Its not easy when you're the only one who knows

The sun's heat devoured our desire to move. The young man with the creased wrinkles lingin his face has been standing too long in these hard rays selling cheap sunglasses. I want to hit him, but I know we'll get our price. He has not left. '200.' 'Ok ok, 250, its a deal, yes?' '200' 'Not possible, not possible, give me your best price...' '200.' Supporting Milena, making sure she doesn't up the price when I know he will sell at 200. Her long fingers examine the brown sunglasses which she will lose later, looking askance at me. I start to check their quality but the man interrupts me, pointing down the beach at the water. 'Look.' Flailing arms and a small head appear and disappear through the small waves 20ft out from the crescent shaped shore. Two men, one on a small boogie board head out and drag him in. The crowd gathers as we watch intently from afar. His collapsed form lays inert on the beach. The crowd watches as minutes pass. My friends and I lose interest when people wander away from the scene. One passing Indian casually drops an astonishing fact in a quiet but unexcited voice. 'He's Dead.' 'There's no way, I just saw him in the water!' 'He's Dead.'

My big toe leaves the biggest imprint as my feet direct me to the scene. As I get closer the impassive Indian faces gain detail, their puffy cheeks and dark eyes calmly watching the friend of the man madly pushing on his buddy's chest in a misguided effort of CPR. 'Can't anyone help me?!?' I'm the only person who moves forward, regret over my inaction earlier emptied into giving what I could to this ghostly figure at my feet. 'You can do the air, we'll do a 3:1 heart-breath count.' 'Ok, thank you.' We work. I misplace my hands, misplace the count, but his heart starts beating, he is alive. his eyes are sickening, his lips covered with a greenish yellow paste of beer and seawater. I could not do the breath. The ambulance arrives, but noone will help us carry this fat indian man with the gross mouth and barely beating heart. 'This is someone's life you assholes!!' My cry guilts a couple of them into motion and we drag and carry him to a waiting car half a kilometer away. He was almost alive when we put him in there. I hope he lives. It was his first time on the beach.