About Boardwalk Baby:
That was her chance. And Izzy grabbed it. She took off, as fast as her little pudgy baby legs would carry her, and ran towards the sea.
A wave crashed against her, nearly knocking her off her feet. But Izzy stood firm. She enjoyed the prickling of the fresh seawater on her skin, the sensation of the sand washing away beneath her feet, the feeling of the sea spray on her face and the salt in her hair. She laughed and whooped with joy, as happy as never before in her short life.
That moment of utter perfection lasted for a second at most, then the wave rolled back and the water withdrew. For a moment, Izzy was stunned. Then she ran after the retreating wave, right into the ocean. And then the water came back, higher than before, bubbling right up to her face and tickling in her nose. And it was bliss, pure bliss.
Her parents later claimed that she almost drowned that day. They said that Izzy tore herself loose (no mention of the seagull, of course, cause getting shat upon by a seagull was too embarrassing), ran into the water and almost drowned, would’ve drowned, if a lifeguard hadn’t pulled her out, all pale and blue.
But that was not how Izzy remembered it. In her memories, the water buoyed her up, until she was shooting through the waves, swimming like she’d been born to it. And the water she’d inhaled didn’t harm her at all. On the contrary, it was like oxygen to her lungs, like fresh sea air, salty and delicious.