Maggie's Bluff

Maggie hopped from one foot to the other as she stripped off her clothes to the bathers she was wearing underneath. Her mother and Joe, who seemed to have cast off his grumpiness, did the same. Johnno pulled his hat over his face and pretended to snore. ‘Come on Dad, come for a swim,’ she pleaded, but he amplified his snores and stayed completely still. As Maggie turned to leave, he lifted his hat and warned, ‘Remember to keep away from that rip near the creek mouth.’ Maggie rolled her eyes at him and mouthed, ‘How many times Dad?’ Then she shrugged and ran into the sea. She shrieked loudly and jumped at the initial coldness but then she relaxed as the cool water foamed around her knees. She stood with Joe in the shallows to watch their mother dive neatly under the first wave and then stroke powerfully towards the next set of bigger waves. Maggie held her breath as a huge wave swelled and rose, and then she let out a sigh of relief as she saw her mother push off with perfect timing and stroke strongly until the wave picked her up. With white froth and spume flying, it carried her right back into the shallows as Maggie clapped her hands to acknowledge her body surfing skill. She watched her mother catch another wave, paused to push her hair back, then gave Joe a shove. She said, ‘Our turn now. Race you to get the first wave, Joe!’ The receding water sucked her feet into the wet sand, and her arms flailed as she raced Joe through the shallows. She let him get ahead and ignored him splashing her until they reached the first suitable wave. They both dived under, and when they surfaced Maggie scanned the ocean behind them, hoping to catch a better wave. Wave after wave kept rolling in, and each time she caught one she turned to see who had ridden it the farthest. Usually it was Joe, but then she caught a particularly strong wave right into the shore. She grinned with pleasure and turned to look at Joe and gloat. But Joe stared coldly at her, then waded out of the water and walked up the beach to sit down on the sand beside his father. She lowered her head and sighed, remembering how much fun they used to have together; when they had clapped each other’s skill and quickly headed back out to catch the next wave. Maggie stayed in the water. She swam with her mother for another twenty minutes and then they headed back up the beach to sit on the sand and have their picnic tea. As they ate, Maggie’s father chatted about his day fighting the fire. Maggie lost interest and turned her gaze to three young boys playing with a brightly coloured beach ball. The sun went behind a bank of clouds. Maggie felt the cool southerly wind change arrive. She continued to watch the boys, laughing and playing until a sudden gust of wind caught the ball in mid-air and sent it skittering along the shoreline towards the mouth of the creek. She saw the little boys race after it and jumped to her feet, an image of what-could-be flashing through her mind. She had been warned so many times about that creek. The boys squealed with excitement as their father ran after them. The ball was blown into the rippling brown water and was quickly caught up in a swirling current. The man raced after the boys frantically yelling, ‘Stop! Stop! Leave it!’ but all three kept chasing the ball, the biggest boy leading his brothers on. Maggie saw him stumble as the water suddenly deepened and he was caught by the strong current. He disappeared under the surface, and she heard a shriek as one of the others dived in after him. He vanished as well. There were more shrieks and then the third boy was caught in the rip, and all she could see were three small heads bobbing along as they were carried further and further out to sea. Intermittently, the boys vanished beneath the swirling water and reappeared again, taking turns to wave their arms and call for help. The boys’ father stood paralysed on the shoreline as their screams carried across the water. Maggie’s father had dozed off on the warm sand, but when her mother heard the screams, she leapt up and ran down the beach and into the creek. Maggie watched as her strong overarm strokes carried her to the wildly struggling first boy. She grabbed him and dragged him over to the side of the rip, where the father waited in the calmer water. Then she returned to try and save the other two boys. She grabbed one, but the other one panicked and grabbed her around the neck. Maggie watched in horror as all three were dragged underwater. She heard a strangled cry as her mother’s head re-appeared after the next wave, holding one of the boys with her arm across his neck and shoulder. She dragged him towards the side of the rip and pushed him over to the desperate father who took him from her and waded back to shore, shouting, ‘Thank you - Thank you! But there’s still one more. Please help me! Help me! I can’t swim!’ The sea became rougher as the wind increased. Maggie felt a squirm of fear as a wave knocked her mother over. She ran down to the water’s edge and called out, ‘Mum stop! You look exhausted.’ But Bridie stood up and waded back into the rip. She swam bravely to where the third boy had resurfaced. He threw his arms around her neck and pulled her under the water, but she deftly pushed him off and turned him around. Then holding him with her arm across his chest she began to swim back to the beach. Relief flooded Maggie, but it was short lived, and she stared in disbelief as the panicking boy dragged Bridie under again. The last Maggie saw of her mother and the boy was a hand vanishing into a wave crest. Maggie stared out to sea, too stunned to move. She refused to believe her mother was gone; she felt certain she’d pop up again. But there was no sign of her. Maggie ran up the beach and screamed at her father. ‘Dad, Dad, It’s Mum - she’s drowning! I don’t know what to do...you have to help her!’