By Cathy Warner
Jaws is released the summer I turn fourteen, and my friends and I spend every afternoon bodysurfing and reenacting the young woman’s death scene at the beginning of the movie.
We yell, kick, jerk, wave, scream, pretending a great white has hold, dragging us down for the kill. We sputter, shriek, and wait for a lifeguard—glistening and tan—to come running with a lifebuoy as he leaps the surf to save us.
But rescue never comes. No one is fooled by our theatrics.
A wave crests, pitches, pulls us under. Gritty green-gray ocean tumbles against bodies, stings eyes. Slammed to shore, palms scraped, we crawl to our feet sputtering sand, blinking salt.
We stand at the edge of the continent, the Pacific licking our legs, and wade back in, riding waves and faking our deaths. [Read more…]