Bryan and Brian: Part 37 of 39

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Augusta Maine, “Stop that man! He has my son!”, Brian Gunnarson, Bryan Brown, Elizabeth Gunnarson, Enrique, Joseph Gunnarson, Mary Brown, Phoenix Arizona, Playa Los Muertos, Puerto Vallarta, Reykjavik Ice Land, Wellington New Zealand, Zach Brown

THIRTY-SEVEN
Zach was out of his beach chair and running hard and fast, intent on saving his son, vision narrowed to tunnel focus, in a fugue where distractions and diversions did not exist. He was almost upon Bryan and his son’s captor when he heard the patter of racing bare feet beside him. In a fury his head turned, fists cocked, adrenaline spiked, ready to pummel whoever dared get between him and rescuing his son.

“Zach!” he heard someone scream. “Zach!” the voice repeated, “What is it?!” Enrique demanded.

Zach raced on, his lumbering form challenging the waves ferocity as his feet smashed step after step as he zeroed in on the man who held his child. “Him!” he roared, pointing at Joseph. “Him! He has my son!”

Enrique surged, running point of the three young men who followed in close pursuit. “Stop him! Stop him!” Enrique called over his shoulder, adding, “He’s got Bryan!” before turning his head forward and screaming, “Bryan! Bryan! We’re coming! Your dad’s right here!”

Joseph looked up from his play with his son and saw the stampede of men rushing his way. He heard voices screaming out his son’s name and saw fury in the eyes of the onslaught. “Beth! Beth!” he screamed, “Get help! Run!” turning his back to the approaching attackers as he lowered the arms that held the burden of his son, Joe flipped Brian midair so he would hit the surf feet first and then sprung into the air, spinning 180 degrees to face the human deluge which seemed intent to pour over him. Joseph, his son dazed and defenseless at his feet, stood at an angle, his body turned to present a minimal area for his attackers to strike and raised his left fist just below chin height as he pulled his right fist back, fully prepared to kill or die in order to protect his son from the deranged mob that was swarmed toward them.

Joe heard Beth’s voice scream over and over but his brain held no comprehension of her words. No matter what happened next he would protect his son or die trying. His head swept right to left, taking in the pack of human curs, his eyes reaching the shore and his head twitching as he saw Beth in front of rather than behind him.

Beth, holding Bryan who Joe knew was at his feet. Bryan who cowered in fear, his son having no comprehension of what had caused his father to throw him to the ground and turn from loving and playful Pabbi to a man ready, willing and able to use maximum force in defense of what he held most dear. Distracted by Beth for a split second he found himself ready to fight the men who split and surrounded him and Joe prepared to deliver mayhem even as he wondered how and when his wife had transported their son to safety.

Focused on the fight Joe heard Beth scream what sounded like, “Zach! No! That’s Joseph!” as the largest of the five dove low and tried to take him out at the knees.

Bryan and Brian: Part 36 of 39

Tags

Augusta Maine, “Stop that man! He has my son!”, Brian Gunnarson, Bryan Brown, Elizabeth Gunnarson, Joseph Gunnarson, Mary Brown, Phoenix Arizona, Playa Los Muertos, Puerto Vallarta, Reykjavik Ice Land, Wellington New Zealand, Zach Brown

THIRTY-SIX
Beth, Bryan and Joe strolled north-westward on Pilitas to the beach where they scanned the columns and rows of beach chairs and umbrellas that dominated the regions of beach farthest from the lapping waves. “Busy, huh?” Joe commented. “It looks as though it was a good idea to come today rather than wait for the weekend, yah?”

“That or we need to get here earlier if we want our choice of where to sit,” Beth replied. “This is like a sea of umbrellas, isn’t it?”

“‘A sea of umbrellas.’ I like that. Very poetic. But I’m not sure what image the words would create if I didn’t have this expanse of oiled bodies beneath the sun to burn a picture in my mind. Perhaps a flotilla of umbrellas being used as pleasure boats?”

“That’s a fun image. Sailboats. With the sails attached to the handles bobbing blissfully along.”

“Blissful bobbing sounds nice but how would we steer? Where are the rudders?”

“Too deep, sweetie. Don’t go so far below the water line. It’s just a picture.”

“Ha! You just said, ‘Don’t go so deep,’ and the subject is sailboats. You’re a genius even when you don’t try. Hey, Brian? Do you know how wonderful your mother is?”

“Uh-huh. Brian knows. Love you, Mama.”

“Well that’s settled,” Joe said with a laugh. “Unanimous.”

“And I love you, sweeties,” she replied, kissing her fingertips and throwing kisses. “Beach chairs or just spread a towel out down closer to the ocean?”

“Sun’s rays are pretty strong right now so we should probably get an umbrella. Shall we reconnoiter first and then we can figure out the best place to land?”

“Good plan,” Beth said with a nod. “Brian? Let’s take off our jerseys so we can get in the ocean,” she added as she laid her bag on the ground and pulled her shirt off.

“Yah. Let’s get wet,” Joe replied, pulling first Brian’s shirt off then his own. “Brian? Want to fly in the sky?”

“Pabbi make me fly?”

“Say the word and you’re a bird!”

“Brian Fly! Fly, Pabbi! Fly!”

Joseph scooped up his son, lifted him high overhead and placed the palms of his hands beneath Brian’s hips as the boy arched his back, outstretched his arms plane like and commanded, “Run, Pabbi! Brian fly!” as he squealed in delight which in turn made both of his parents laugh in appreciation of his joy

“To the ocean, my sweet! It’s time to get wet!” Joe hollered unreservedly as he ran into the ocean kicking sand, making waves and catching the attention of the languid loungers that soaked up the sun’s rays.

Zach opened a single bleary eye and looked up from his state of semiconscious. Peering uncomprehendingly toward the squeals and shouts that wafted up from the surf what he saw made him smile and nod once before his eyes shot open in a terrorizing moment of déjà vu. The man from the hotel again had Bryan in his arms and was running with him away from Mary.

“Stop!” Zach shouted at the top of his lungs as he struggled to his feet. “Stop that man! He has my son!” he added as he sprinted pall mall through the sand and towards the surf.