Sand Castles

by Alison Tuuk

The sand, coarse and wet grinds through my six ("and a half!") year old hands. I sit contentedly, sprawled upon the beach with the waves creeping and crashing onto my legs. I attentively construct what I call a dribble castle, letting the oozing, half-wet sand drool onto a near patch of dry sand. It slowly builds itself up and becomes my masterpiece of bubble-like lumps and towers of trickled sand. My mom smiles happily from her lounge chair, book and can of cola. I attempt to act like a real artist, tilting my blonde head sideways, and squinting thoughtfully at my castle. But I have only a few fleeting moments to admire my grand work before my older brother (a.k.a. Doctor Evil) gallops up behind me from the water and smashes it. He playfully exhales an evil laugh like the monsters on Saturday morning cartoons. He slinks back into the water...beckoning me with a mischievous smirk and eyes that say, "Gotcha!" I'm devastated for all of one second but quickly lunge towards him like a cat after a scurrying toy mouse. Off I go, into the water; laughing, choking and shrieking with my limbs flopping and flailing like spaghetti. I bob about after him. Before long, I feel my head being plunged into the blue-brown Lake Michigan water. The loud giggles and raucous of the air above instantaneously disappears and a new whooshing, water sound fills my ears...ever so quiet. The water goes up my nose as I flounder and gurgle. It burns as if someone lit a match in my throat and got it stuck in the back of my nose. Gasping, I emerge from the water and slash my arms in front of me, trying to get a hand on him. He effortlessly seizes my arms, picks me up high above the water, and gives a twirl in triumph. I go splashing down from his tight hold and finally resign in the fight. I suppress a grin and whiningly tell him what a mean old brother he is. My once dry, flouncing curls are now plastered to my forehead like a tee shirt that sticks to your skin after you fall in the water. Out of breath, I slide back to my spot on the shore, settling down once again to the rhythm of the waves, the friendly whisper of the breeze and the awkward feeling of sand in your bathing suit.