so, I want to relate this story.

a friend of mine and I were camping... this great campsite near Ventura CA.
it was sunset and we were watching the last bright morsels of orange disappear beyond the horizon, and the large fluffy wisps of darkening orange-red.

my friend is going through a hard breakup - feeling betrayed and hurt and distrustful and not very confident in herself or "guys" in general. she was just saying that at her base she was doubting the reliability-honesty of men. She is normally an upbeat and self-reliant and real-trusting soul.
I can understand her feelings and would be lying if I said that I had not had the same doubts about my fellow man at times.
She had just got through saying that it felt to her as though guys would just say the things that women want to hear... so that they would appear like nice guys... when we heard a scream.

The scream came from the marsh that was in front of us... part of the bird estuary we were camping next to... beyond the marsh were sand dunes and beyond that was the beach. to get to our campground you would have to walk a mile south on the dunes - there was a trail.

we ran to the edge of the marsh... there were alot of people making alot of noise at the campground it was a friday night at a california beach campsite...

"Help Me!... Someone PLEASE HELP ME!"
It was a child's voice... terrified.
It wasn't a joke, it wasn't a game... this was real terror.

I yelled across the marsh... The breeze was blowing to strong for her to hear me well.
she screamed more and louder and with more intensity now...

"Help Me! I'm lost... PLEASE HELP ME!"

The thought crossed my mind - these were the only pair of long pants I had, and the only shoes I brought... and it was cold. I didn't know how deep the marsh would get. I thought about how far it was around the marsh, how long it would take...

and then I just started crossing the marsh as 20 or so spectators watched. it's deepest part was just a little more that knee deep.
When I got to the other side, I hollered for the kid - where are you... over here- a few times back and forth - I got to her... she was maybe 9 years old in a bathing suit, clutching a towel - it was cold.

what's your name I asked - rachel she said.
I'm Tom - are you ok? I asked
and then she said - I don't know where my little sister is.

my heart sunk...
what is her name I asked as I started my way up the sand dunes for a good vantage point.
Patricia she said.

As I was standing on the sand-dune looking up and down the beach, I saw a woman approaching on a cel phone.

"Rachel, where have you been?" "what's wrong with you - trisha came back an hour ago - you are the older one, you need to be more responsible"

my mouth dropped open and I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job of editing my look at her.
I was pretty pissed, I had just got my only dry clothes wet to save her daughter...
when we were close enough, I spat through clenched teeth - "She was screaming - she was terrified"

to her credit mom saw my wet clothes and did thank me, albeit distractedly.
I did not hear her express concern that her daughter was alright by the time I got out of earshot... I hope she did... I hope her panic, her embarrassment and her self-doubt at being a good mommy abated enough that she was able to have a genuine moment with her daughter - in which she hugged her, and told her that she was worried and that she was alright now.

I slogged the two miles back to the campsite in the darkness.
my friend had a fire going, we ate and sipped bourbon, and an hour later the full moon rose.