with some ways to tie in the photography to the Edge’s Facebook page, and Grady looked especially intrigued when I pitched that idea. He said he’d be in touch, but that he was pretty sure we’d be able to come up with something that let me get behind the camera lens more. The meeting had gone so much better than I’d hoped.
I headed down to the beach to see what else I could capture for my portfolio before the crowds left. I knew there was a sandcastle contest for the kids finishing up, and I wanted to get some shots of it.
Jackpot. I strolled around the beachfront, squatting low and coercing the kids to pose next to their creations. Their excited faces shining from behind the wet sand mountains were endearing. The innocent glee of the moment came across well in the pictures. I zoomed in on a fiddler crab caught in the moat of one child’s abandoned fortress. Snapping a handful of quick shots, I panned up with the camera still held up to my eye.
West’s face appeared on my screen, magnified.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, startled, and lowered my arms self-consciously.
“Today? Today I’m driving the parasailing boat. Grady’s regular guy called in sick, and I was free, so here I am. What are you doing? I thought you were a lifeguard.”
“I am. But I’m supposed to be a photographer. I mean, I am a photographer, it’s just hard getting a new business off the ground.”
West laughed. “Yeah, I hear you on that one. Start up’s a bitch.”
I looked at him, puzzled. “You’re trying to break into the parasailing business? I thought the resort owned the boat and the sail?”
“They do, and I’m not. I owed Grady a favor though.” He smirked.
“Okay,” I said, taking a step away. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”
“Ever been up?” He took a step that mirrored mine, keeping even with me.
“On a parasail? Uh, no. And I don’t plan on it.”
“Why not? There’s nothing to it. You just kind of… float. Only, on the end of a rope instead of in the water.”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?” His eyebrows dipped down.
“It’s over the water.”
He looked at me sideways, comprehension dawning. “That’s right. You’re scared of the water. Well, let’s consider this step one in curing you of your phobia. You’re not going in the water. You’ll be going over the water. Way over.”
“What if I fall?”
He turned back to face me and dropped his chin down to meet my wide eyes. “I won’t let you fall. Sometimes, when I take the turn at the end of the island, your feet dip in for a second, but you’re not going to fall.”
“Don’t you have paying customers you should be taking up?” I asked.
“We’re in a lull. And it only takes fifteen minutes. Come on, let me help you. You live by the ocean now. This fear of yours is ridiculous.”
I shifted my weight from side to side. Holding my hand up to my eyes, I scanned the water. The ocean looked calm right now. Non-threatening. Toddlers splashed where the waves rolled onto the beach. Even they weren’t scared of getting their feet wet. “All right, fine,” I said, giving in with reluctance.
I followed him to the border of the resort property, where the hut for the parasailing rides stood, and enormous butterflies took wing in my stomach — whether from my impending doom or West’s presence, I wasn’t sure. I handed off my camera and bag to Josie, the attendant, and then slipped off my shoes before trailing after West to the harness. Josie followed and helped hook me in to all the straps while West ran over the safety spiel. When he explained the emergency release, I looked at him with alarm. “I thought you said I couldn’t fall!”
He sighed. “You are not going to fall. Trust me on this.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re strapped in.” He reached down to where the webbed belts connected around my pelvis, sliding two fingers under the edges and tugging to show me they weren’t loose.
Abhilash Gaur
C. Alexander London
Elise Marion
Liesel Schwarz
Al Sharpton
Connie Brockway
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer
Shirley Walker
Black Inc.