The iron maiden

 The sand beneath my feet dared me to keep going, farther from the shore. The sand seemed to go on forever as I ventured deeper. The people on the beach grew smaller. The sounds of the midway fade, then disappear into the sounds of silent waves. The carousel becomes a spinning top, like a child's toy, and disappears into the sand.

The sea now laps at my face, my feet in a scramble with the bottom to see who goes the distance. It's in plain sight now, bobbing to and fro with every swell another inch forward as my lungs begin to burn and fear creeps up.

Another twenty feet and I'll be able to touch the iron maiden as it takes me for a ride on the waves, but remains anchored safely in place as it has a job to do. I climb up on the small platform, waving my arms towards the shoreline, barely making out a small cluster of boys, and I imagine their shouting their approval for my success.

I had to catch my breath and begin my return journey, as the distance was the same and my body was as rested as it would get. I let go of my grip and started swimming until I felt the sand beneath my feet that gently touched down like the first man on the moon.

The sights and sounds of the midway slowly began coming into view through my salt-filled eyes. My boys are still rooting for me, as I was so close to earning my medal of bravery, which was in reality the bottom of a soda can cut off with a dull knife and strung on a piece of old rope. But it was a right of passage and meant a lot to each of us.

I finally reached shore, collapsing on the still warm sand, mostly for effect, as the crowd of young boys vowed to be the next one to swim out to the iron Maden. And back. But today, the bragging rights belonged to me as they hoisted me upon their shoulders, and I proudly showed off my medal for all to see.

Mike 2026