Page 35 of Under His Protection
Philip! He’s been down there too long!
I cover my mouth and try to hold back my sobs. The poor mother is wailing. An older couple stands with her, attempting to console her. A small crowd gathers around and stares at the spot where we last saw Philip.
There’s no sign of either of them.
My knees give out, and I drop to the sand, oblivious to the cold surf lapping at my thighs.
How could this have happened?
One minute we were having fun, and then—
Someone begins shouting. “There he is!”
“Do you see the kid?” someone else yells.
“No, I can’t—wait! Yes, he’s got the kid.”
I don’t even realize I’m crying until I have to brush my tears so I can see.
Philip is swimming back to shore, one arm plowing powerfully through the water, while his other arm is wrapped around the boy, who’s floating face up behind him. He’s towing the kid to shore.
I try to stand, to run toward him, but my legs are so numb I remain kneeling where I am, my knees digging into the cold, wet sand.
By the time Philip reaches the beach, carrying the still body of what looks to be a teenage boy, I finally manage to get to my feet and run to him.
When I reach them, Philip is hunched over the boy’s body where it lies on the sand. He tilts the kid’s head back and listens for air coming out of his mouth.
“He’s not breathing,” he says. Philip gives the kid two quick breaths, and then he checks him for a pulse. “No pulse.” Movinginto position, he begins chest compressions. “Someone, call 911!”
“I already did,” a male bystander says. “A squad is coming.”
The boy’s mother stands in shock as she stares down at her lifeless child. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Please!”
I took a first aid class in high school, and we learned CPR, so I kneel on the other side of the boy. “I can help.”
Philip nods curtly. “Count for me. One-two-three-four—like that.”
“One-two-three-four-five—”
An older blonde woman in a bright orange bikini drops onto the sand beside me and tilts the boy’s head back. “I’m a trauma nurse,” she says matter-of-factly. She opens the boy’s mouth and peers inside.
It’s obvious she knows what she’s doing, so I move out of the way and let the two of them work together.
Philip does the compressions, and the nurse handles the breathing.
And all the while, the kid’s mother stands a few feet away and wails.
Philip and the nurse continue without faltering.
An older woman with short, gray hair walks up to Philip and taps him on his shoulder. “I’m an ER doctor. I’ll take over.”
Philip rises shakily to his feet and stumbles back. He rests his hands on his hips and sucks in deep breaths. When he spots me, he holds out his arms, and I run to him.
I can’t speak past the knot in my throat. I just cry, and Philip holds me, his warm palm rubbing my back.
Suddenly, the boy begins to cough up water. The doctor rolls him onto his side so he doesn’t choke.
“Mom?” the boy cries weakly as he continues to cough.
