“Help……HELP……. HELPPPPPPPPPPP” On the third one, Frankie’s brain finally registered what the sound was. She shot up from lounging and anchored her legs on each side of the flamingo pink floatie. The sun was dangerously bright and hot. As she searched the horizon and waves she couldn’t help but squint till her eyes were basically closed, something her dad often called the “light-eye squint.” She was about to give up; the waves and glimmer of the sun on the water made it nearly im - possible to see. The relentless waves and blinding sun eventually uncloaked a small circular raft floating further and further out from the bay into the open sea. On that distant raft, she could only see a small head bobbing up and down with each wave, one arm would shoot up and give a dramatic shake left to right, but the “helps” were no longer audible. Dream Frankie was just as determined as real-life Frankie. She had to do some - thing. She leaned forward onto her stomach and started to paddle. At first slow, but with every wave she got the timing better and better. Soon the helps were audible again, but she also heard a second word following after. “HELP, FRANKIE…..HELP, FRANKIE….HELP, FRANKIE!!!” Frankie? She thought to herself. They know me? Now her paddles got stron - ger and faster, she had to save them, whoever they were. As Frankie got closer she could see it was a little girl with little ringlets on the top of her lit - tle round head. Frankie couldn’t see much more as the sun had made the little girl’s features just look like a black silhouette. Two more strokes and she would have a hand on the donut-shaped floatie. Even though this was a dream, Frankie was exhausted. She had this heaviness in her arms that made it as though they had weights attached to them; her own arms were fighting against her. Right as she got close enough to touch the floatie, she hesitated in disbelief. Holding onto the red donut raft was a little girl; dark ringlets and ice blue eyes stared back at her. She recognized the swimsuit; lime green with a little ruffle on the hips. Frankie’s mom loved that suit on her, she would recognize it anywhere. With her hesitation came disaster; a wave hit Frankie’s raft just in time to knock her right into the tumbling waves. As Frankie came up for air the red raft was gone, but she could still hear the child’s pleas fading into the distance.
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