Lifeguard Jeon

° T W E N T Y - S I X °

Irene dangles a crystal charm on a thin chain in front of me. It looks like a fist clenched for victory.

"Yoongi dropped this off for you."

"What is it?"

"It's called a figa," she says. "It's a good luck charm from South Amercia that dates back to African myths from the 17th century. It attracts positive energy, they say, and protects you from evil. But it has to be a gift to work. Yoongi said."

I fasten the tiny clasp behind my neck and looked in the mirror. "So now nothing bad can happen to me - ever."

She purses her lips. "I'm not sure it's that good."

° ° ° ° °

I don't usually go out at night. but the air is cooler now and I need to get out and run. The screen door hits shut behind me and I sprint toward the beach. The ocean glows with an eerie haze from the full moon.

I keep going for a few minutes, slow down, then sprint again. Finally I kneel at the edge of the water to wet my face and arms and cool off. Above me is an endless expanse of the night sky. I listen to my own breathing and the lapping of the waves - the only sounds in the uncut stillness that surrounds me.

I get to my feet and tighten my shoelaces. I stretch then take off again, building to a steady pace. My breathing is easier, I'm in better shape. I keep going, happy this outdoor world is mine alone.

Then out of nowhere, it isn't.

I'm overcome with the odd sensation that someone else is out there, nearby. I look around me. Nothing moves. No one makes a sound. I slow my pace.

"Hello?"

No answer and I feel silly. It could be a fluttering bird or small animal, something that belongs here more than I do. The tiny flash of a firefly dances by. Another sparkle to my left. Another past me ear. I swipe it away.

It's safe to be on the beach at night. This isn't a big city, there's hardly any crime.

Still . . .

Is my secret sense forever on alert or am I just paranoid?

The boom of male laughter in the distance shatters the quiet. I jump. It's the kind of laugh that comes with too many beers. I flash to the poker games that went on too late when appa had his friends over. I would lie in bed listening, waiting for them to go home.

More laughter. This time like a crash of thunder. There could be a beach party nearby or a group out on deck. I keep walking and then start to run toward home, anxious, on alert, but I keep going, determined not to let myself get overcome by fear - fear of nothing.

You're not used to being outside, by yourself, I tell myself. It's all in your head.

Only it isn't.

There's something the sand ahead of me.

As I get closer, I make out the outline of a figure. I keep going and see that guy of forty or more is lying with his head back, his long, tangled black hair coated with sand. He's drunk and revolting, his shirt half open, twisted around him. 

"hey," He raises a bottle of beer toward me. "Wanna drink?" He's slurring his words.

I shake my head and run.

"Hey, wait. Wait."

I run faster and faster, my breath coming so hard it aches. I lose track of where I am or how far I've gone, until it feels safe to relax and cool off. I slow to a walk, fixated with watching the water. Off in the distance I spot someone at the edge of the waves.