The lifeguard was already clutching his red flotation device. I think that is what they are called. Or was that what a seat cushion became, if a plane were to crash? Either way, Woody held it tightly, as if it was his life that depended on maintaining its full control. I certainly had my reservations. The exterior was severely faded and exposed with enough chunks of foam missing, in random locations, that one would have to wonder if the device was capable of keeping itself steady and above the unevenness of the sea. I had been present when it was new, whole and shiny. But we were all different versions back then, and in the moments to come, we would be much better, despite how everything would suddenly seem. That would be a product of hanging on, and being accidentally relevant. The emphasis being placed upon “accidentally”, because I was the one capable of interpreting the women’s movements, while Woody and Jim moved the sweat beyond the front edges of their hair. Yes, Jim was still involved. That was just one of the original conditions. As strange as the two women who were approaching, their arrival deserved nothing less than an uncomfortable sense of calm-which was why Jim was now stripped down and heading for the shore. In his mind, a being in constant motion was far more compelling to the opposite sex. Later he could re-emerge and lecture Woody for collecting a paycheck while just standing there. I straightened my legs and decided there was no reason for any limping. The women were not capable of adoration. I began to wonder if the flotation device had ever been classified as red.