“Come on, Ash!” Molly yelled from the porch. A few joggers trotted by. Ash saw something fall from one of their pockets, just another piece of trash for her to collect. She walked over to it. The plastic piece had three arms coming out of its square base and it fit in her hand perfectly. Before she could read the word on the back of it, her mom called again. She put it in her pocket and ran inside.

An idyllic blue painted the sky and fluffy white clouds coasted through it. The water was choppier than normal, the breeze turning up small waves like little mobile tents.

“Darn, we missed the sunrise!,” Molly said.

Ash, her mother, and her brother walked toward the beach. Her dad trailed toting the kayak.

The air smelled of sunscreen. People in swimsuits were lined up and down the sandy shore. One 20-something-year-old man boasted his chiseled abs. His counterpart girlfriend had sculpted quadriceps. The couple abruptly took off sprinting. Another young man jogged by at a leisurely pace. A few locals cast fishing lines into the water. The white lifeguard stand was without a lifeguard. A heavyset white woman of about 50 crawled out from under the bench in the lifeguard stand. Her brown hair was a bird’s nest and her clothing was rags.

The family walked along, all but one of their heads looking in one direction. Ash opened up her beach tote bag and threw a bottle of cold water and a pack of peanuts to the sandy spot just in front of the lifeguard stand.

“Well Steve, we can aim to get the family photos at sunrise on our next wedding anniversary,” Molly said to her husband.

“I’m sorry I made us miss it.” Ash said, truly remorseful.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” her dad responded gently.

Ash hung her head, walking alone. She realized after a while that she was a long way from her family. She saw that there was still no lifeguard, which was odd for this time of the day. Under the lifeguard stand, she saw the blanket she’d seen before. A hand poked out from one side. Ash walked up then peeled the blanket back to see the face of the woman who’d been there earlier. Her face was pale and her body still. Beside her was an empty bottle of water and a peanut wrapper. Ash felt laden with guilt. She closed her eyes but could only see the woman’s lifeless face. She began to collapse when suddenly there was a strong arm around her neck, dragging her backward. Her tote bag fell from her shoulder and crashed into the sand, revealing a pencil box. Ash screamed. She was dragged away into the thick brush of the dunes.

People gathered at the lifeguard stand. In the middle of it all was Ash’s dad, with one hand dipped into the pencil box, the other on the woman’s neck. He pulled out an Epi-pen, the antidote to severe allergic reactions. He popped off its cap, and then placed it against the woman’s thigh. Nothing happened. He opted for the other bottle in the kit, which he wondered where his 12-year-old daughter had gotten. He popped the cap off it and squirted a spray into the woman’s left nostril. Within a minute, her eyes opened. She slowly became oriented. “The girl,” she said. Steve got up and moved from the crowd. He saw his daughter sprinting from one of the dunes. He ran toward her. A minute later a muscular man came running from the same direction after her. “Hold it!” a cop yelled, his gun aimed right at him.

Cops found on the bodybuilder Fentanyl and oxycodone, powerful prescription painkillers. Eyewitnesses revealed that the lady bodybuilder put some substances in some of Margaret’s (the homeless woman’s) water bottle while she’d been asleep. Margaret explained that she had seen the bodybuilder injecting himself with performance-enhancing drugs. He had been hoping to win  an upcoming show. He knew she’d seen him. If Margaret told anyone, it would disqualify him from the show and he would lose his sponsorship from a fitness magazine. It was his only hope in life after injuring his neck (the reason he took pain relievers too). He couldn’t let some young girl try to save this woman.

Ash was relieved to know that the peanuts hadn’t killed Margaret. And her father, a pharmacist, had saved the day by administering the opioid-reversal medication (Narcan) that she’d unknowingly picked up while doing her chores that morning.

The family gathered at sunset for a picture in front of the jetties. “Happy Anniversary,” Ash told her parents. ~