10.
Tori.
It was close to two that afternoon when the sound of screaming woke me up.
Sarah screaming.
It took me a few moments to remember where I was…on the deck of the boat in a hammock. I then tried to determine where the screaming came from. It came from away…far off…shore?
I hopped out of the hammock stiffly, "Sarah?"
The bloodcurdling scream continued.
I ran across the deck and spotted her on the shore a good thirty feet off. She was sitting and holding her foot.
"Sarah!" I shouted. Knowing it was serious since she was on the sand. The dirty filthy sand without her towel. She was obviously in peril. Thinking she was near death I dove from the sailboat and into the crystal clear ocean. Then I swam to shore in my jeans and wife beater.
I ran from the warm water when I was able and to her side, the fine white sand sticking to me.
"What happened Sarah?"
She held her foot, which I managed to wrench from her to see a perfect circle. She cried, "Has it rotted off yet?"
Tears streamed down her face.
The sound of someone else jumping off the boat didn't distract me.
"What'd you step on," I demanded.
Finally she sobbed, "A sting ray!"
A ray?
Dear God. I dropped her foot in the powdery sand and wiped my wet hair from my face. "I told you not to be walking in the shallows without water shoes!" She then moaned and sat up, grabbing her wounded foot. Glaring at me.
Mack dropped beside me.
I looked to the wet man, "She was stung by a ray."
His eyes widened.
"Pee on her foot would you?"
He began to unfasten his shorts and Sarah sat straight up, "There will be no peeing on me! Keep those pants on buddy!"
She was almost as impossible as my son. I rubbed my face and got sand on it. "Sarah. The urine will neutralize the poison. If not I have no clue where the nearest hospital is."
She looked at me as if I had suggested she cut off her leg. "Yeah, that's not happening, fetch the golf cart Mr. Wee-wee."
"Charles and your husband have it, Mouth."
They did have it, they were off filling up air tanks. Who knew where Jeremy and Charlie were, last I knew they were posing as a father and son on vacation to pick up chicks.
My son was now an accessory.
She screamed and fell onto her side again. Rolling in the sand in misery. Mack reached out and grabbed her neck, no sooner had he grabbed it did she slump back completely in the sand, out like a light.
"What was that!"
He began to unlace his shorts, "Pressure point. Hold up her foot for me."
When she woke up she was going to be so pissed off. But I grabbed her foot and held the pedicured foot up. I did turn my head. Unable to watch. "Make it quick Mack, and don't get any on me…please."
She was going to be so pissed.
Literally.
Who knew this was a peril of a vacation in paradise?