Expansive bright blue skies extended westward far past the sight of his young eyes, over calm, aquamarine almost emerald-colored water. Curling up his tiny toes, he could feel the white powder sand under his bare feet as he looked in the same direction, where the horizon seamlessly met the sea in the distance.
It was beautiful. An incredible scene and nothing short of what his parents promised many months ago when they surprised him with the news of his first big spring break vacation.
Back home, although relatively late in the year, the snow continued to fall, adding to the already ugly mush that had piled way up and persisted for several weeks under gray, foreboding clouds. A phenomenon that was not altogether unusual, but certainly not consistent from one winter/spring transition to the next.
But here, on a tropical peninsula paradise, tons of glowing rays of warm sunshine poured down, bathing his entire body in bold beams of joy. It was almost too good to be true. Barely a cloud floated in the sky and the few he could see were light, white, and fluffy – quite the opposite of the dark, heavy ones his family escaped just a day ago.
The flight down was a very fun one. It was the first he could and would remember, as opposed to previous trips when he was too young. The pilot even let him stand in the cockpit until taxi and even let him flip a few switches and push some buttons. He delighted in the back-and-forth chatter between the tower and aircraft, thinking it was an entirely different language than English. When he told his parents about the experience, his father joked about the “jargon” – a word that made him laugh aloud because it sounded so funny.
The hotel greeted his family with fancy-dressed employees, quickly unloading their rental car and taking all their luggage up to their room, way up on the eighth floor, facing the Gulf of Mexico. What a spectacular view it was, prompting his mom to take picture after picture, while his dad walked down the hall to fetch a bucket of ice.
The room was spacious, yet inviting and quite comfortable. It boasted all the latest amenities, including soft cozy linens and plush bath towels. The pristine space made such an impression on his mother that when his father returned from his quick errand, she described it as “a bit pretentious but perfect,” cupping her hand over her mouth and sighing, while happy tears welled in her eyes. The boy could tell her heart was full and this was a dream come true.
Though the beach was only an elevator ride away and a few hops and skips over the dune, it was far out of reach, due to the late evening hour. A shimmering swimming pool was strategically placed below, surrounded by a big patio, complete with tables, chairs, and reclining loungers. He asked if he could take a late-night swim, but the entry hours had already passed.
“Tomorrow,” his parents promised. In the morning after breakfast, they’d have ample time to enjoy both, they said.
The next day came as a surprise, being woken by the sound of the television and local weather forecast in an otherwise dark room. His dad carefully pulled the blackout shades back a little, letting the sun seep in through a small divide, enough for his eyes to slowly adjust. He could hear his parents discussing various details through whispered conversation. No doubt it was important because they didn’t want him to know what they were saying to one another.
It didn’t bother him, though. They usually did this before giving him a big gift. So, it meant something good, something fun was about to happen. And, his hunch was right. A few minutes later, his mom gave him a basket, filled with pool and beach toys – everything a boy could want for such occasions. A mask, flippers, snorkel, super-soakers, and so on. But even better, a brand-new bodyboard leaned against the wall, adorned with circling sharks, and equipped with a three-foot leash.
Now, he stood on the shore, with his new bodyboard tucked under his arm, waiting for the right moment to jump in and catch a wave to ride. If he did it right, the surf would carry him all the way back, his father had told him earlier that morning. As he entered the water, he could feel the squishy sand under his feet. The low tide also gave him the chance to go further out, a long, long way, onto a distant sandbar.
As he rode the surf back in, he could see his mother unpacking all their stuff, his dad busily setting up a portable, pop-up beach tent. It was exhilarating, putting a big smile on his small face, enticing him back into the water to do it again and again. In under an hour, he’d rode the waves dozens and dozens of times, never tiring of the experience. Though his skin did begin to prune a bit, another coat of sunscreen would be sufficient to satisfy his mother – at least for now.
Hours passed, during which time he bodyboarded, swam, and snorkeled. Lunchtime brought a particularly delightful delicacy, sushi and the obligatory tortilla chips – an odd combination to some. But to him, it was one of the best meals he could eat. It was delicious and light, so he’d only have to wait about a half hour before going back into the water.
As the rush of the white caps crashed against the shoreline, he listened to the Rays’ baseball game intently, knowing every player on both teams’ rosters. Like most boys his age, he loved America’s oldest sports pastime. The smell of the outfield grass, and the tastiness of chili cheese dogs and jumbo pretzels. The excitement he felt while rounding the bases on a triple, showing off his speed and hitting skills.
The season was in full swing and he tried to catch as many games as he could. Someday, he’d be in the major leagues, a real professional player. His hustle is precisely what would matter most in the coming moments after his food had digested. As he listened to the play-by-play, the waves continued to wash onto the beach, providing a very soothing backdrop.
The moment his mom gave him the “okay,” he eagerly grabbed his bodyboard and rushed to the edge of the water, anticipating another couple of hours of play in the surf. But, this time, when he stepped into the water, something felt a lot different – like a mix of sponge and sandpaper. Before he could see what it was, a sudden, sharp pinch hit his leg and it burned and throbbed immediately.
He cried out, yelling for his mother, running out of the water toward her, grasping his leg in pain as best he could. Blood ran down over his foot and something solid protruded from his skin. His mother tried to comfort him, asking him what happened. But, he didn’t know. All he could tell her was how much it hurt as his dad phoned 9-1-1. Minutes later, lying on a beach towel in agony, an ambulance and firetruck arrived, the first responders running right to the scene.
“Stingray!” One yelled to the others. They worked in concert diligently, explaining everything they were doing, carefully removing the fish’s dislodged barb from the wound, while applying pressure right above the bleeding injury, cleaning and bandaging the area immediately thereafter. He could barely keep calm or talk – the pain was just too intense. All he could do was wish he had known to shuffle his feet.
His parents rode with him in the ambulance to the emergency room, telling him how brave he was for fighting off the pain, though it never ceased. Late that afternoon, they treated him to room service and three giant scoops of ice cream with plenty of whipped cream and a healthy dose of hot fudge. By the next morning, he could no longer feel the burn or the sting, it had healed overnight while he slept soundly on the queen-size mattress, cuddled up with extra pillows. The hotel staff sent him a sweet get-well card and a larger-than-life whirly rainbow lollipop, along with a nice assortment of scrumptious chocolates.
But, the incident didn’t discourage or deter him from enjoying the beach again. In fact, a year later, his family returned to the exact same spot. They made an annual trip out of it from there on, going back for several years in a row. It would someday become a story he would share with his own children and eventually, his grandchildren, a cautionary but uplifting tale, he simply called “Rays.”
