When I got to the boatyard, Ethan was already at sea. He was paddling a small, red kayak. My heart sank. There was no way he would get to Devil’s Rock alive.
I waved and called to him, “Ethan, I’m sorry. Come back.”
But he just put his head down and kept paddling.
I shouted again, but the noise of the sea crashing onto the rocks hid my cries.
I looked far out at the waves hitting Devil’s Rock. I had to save my little brother.
I ran to the boat hut and grabbed the end of a big kayak. It was big enough for two people.
I dragged it down to the water. The cold sea washed over my feet and up my legs.
I pushed and pulled the big kayak out into the water until it floated. Then I tried to get in, but the kayak rolled over and tipped me out. The icy water made me gasp.
I yelled and banged my fists on the water.
Then, I took hold of each side of the kayak. Slowly and carefully, I pulled myself in.
Once I was in the boat, I sat up and grabbed the paddle. I pulled it through the water, faster and faster I went, on and on until I could see Ethan up ahead.
I didn’t know if it was because I was angry or if I was just frightened, but suddenly I began to cry.
Then, it hit me. I knew why I was crying. I was scared my little brother might drown.