what she's done tonight

wouldn't count as

an official Senior Week

"Play It Safe" activity.

But Mickey was long past

being saved by safety.

I walk to the edge of the water

where I can still hear their voices

mixed with the ocean.

The lifeguard stand beside me

is empty and bare

except for one thing:

a long black ribbon

faded to gray,

the name Cindy

printed in gold-turned-yellow.

The girl who drowned at spring break.

That's how she'll be remembered-

for her death,

not her life,

as people our age always are.

Did she become a ghost?

Is she standing next to me

right this second?

Has she already passed on?

My own trip to peace,

too long and too strange,

is nearing the end.

Mickey was my last,

biggest,

scariest

detour.

Behind me I hear Krista say,

Something-something "lifeguard stand,"