Dreams of Forbidden Love

By Maria Bouchard

Dreams of Forbidden Love is the powerful story of love, the tale of hope, the struggle for peace and the celebration of victory. The many issues it contains of life, death, power, disappointment, guild and faith keep the reader riveted to the story, always rooting for the main character to forge on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aspire Publishing Hub, LLC
• Release date: Mar 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9781962611435

Book preview

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Dreams of Forbidden Love

Maria Bouchard

Dreams of Forbidden Love

Copyright © 2024 by Maria Bouchard

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN

978-1-962611-42-8 (Paperback)

978-1-962611-43-5 (eBook)

In loving memory of Steven, my first and dearest playmate,

Papa, whose love transcended his death, and

Lily Laura Louise, the saintly woman who gave him life.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

Chapter 1

"Getting cold, honey?’ Sean asked. He adjusted the collar of Taylor’s down coat so it stood up around her neck, covering the lower half of her face.

A little, Taylor replied with a smile. She loved the way he took care of her, as a loving parent cares for a child. And yet, when he looked at her, all he saw was pure woman.

Want to head back? he asked.

Taylor sighed. I guess we should. It’ll be dark soon. Once the sun went down it would be too cold to be outdoors.

There had been a short reprieve in the weather and Sean and Taylor seized the opportunity to brave the winter with a short walk through the woods. Small patches of snow still covered the frozen ground. It was early March, but some unseasonably warm weather had drifted up from the southern coast. Long Island’s south shore had been pounded by at least a dozen snowstorms since January. It had been a long, cold season, and the little preview to spring had come as a welcome respite.

Torn branches scattered the forest floor, testimony to their harsh ordeal, their straggly branches arched upward, toward the sun. They pleaded for its warmth, its light. The salvation of spring. Everything would spring to life then, with a glorious invitation to the woods’ feathered friends to make their northern journey. They’d come back in flocks, to the sweet smell of springtime, busily building their new homes, where they would hatch their babies.

I’ll race you back! Sean cried, patting Taylor playfully on the behind as he began to jog.

Taylor laughed. No fair. You got a head start!

Alright, then. He stopped in his tracks. "You go on the count of three. I’ll give you a thirty second advantage.

Okay. Taylor was up to the challenge.

One, two, three! Sean counted, and Taylor took off like a bat out of Hell. She was determined to beat him this time. After all, it was just a short jaunt back to the car, maybe a quarter of a mile, if that.

A minute later she heard the snapping of twigs behind her, and Taylor looked over her shoulder to see Sean racing closely to her left. She sped up the pace.

He’d started out with such a burst that he began to tire at the point that he reached Taylor, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t outrun her. She was giving it her all. They jogged along neck and neck until the last few yards, when he noticed she was kicking in with a burst, and he did the same. As he always did, he reached the car before she did.

Can’t you let me win just once? Taylor whined, in between gasps of breath.

He loved that pout she wore. "I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t just throw the race! Sean said with a mischievous wink. His flushed face brought out the pool water shade of blue of his eyes. Salt and pepper colored hair gave his boyish look an air of sophistication. At thirty-three he maintained an incredible physique, strong arms and broad shoulders. Woman always took a second look.

Taylor huffed and puffed as Sean opened the car door for her. She slid into the passenger seat and he ran around and jumped in behind the wheel. Brushing a straggly hair off her face, he gazed into her big green eyes.

I love you baby, he whispered, kissing her gently on the lips. He loved everything about her, the way she looked, the way she smiled, the subtle fragrance she wore. She’d stolen his heart the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. And he’d given her more of himself than he’d ever thought possible.

I love you too, she murmured. She was so content when she was with him. Life was a fairy tale. She left the real world behind.

He put the key in the engine and she flipped the radio on. She hummed softly to the end of Elton John’s Candle in the Wind.

Now that’s what I call a sweet duet, Sean said with a smile. He reached over and held her hand lovingly, and Taylor rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Tired, sweetheart? he asked. He always concerned himself with her needs; he wanted to know if she was cold, she was tired, hungry. His hope was that she would never want for anything. He always knew exactly what she wanted and needed, even before she did. And when it came to all things that really mattered, he knew the desires of her heart. He felt the cravings of her soul.

I’ll sleep well tonight, that’s for sure! she said with a sigh. She’d had to run her errands in high gear all morning to make room for an afternoon with the man she loved. She treasured their time together, and so did Sean. He had been counting the minutes until she would be in his arms again. Nothing else meant as much to him, or was as important.

She rested her eyes for a few minutes, and then gazed at his face adoringly as he drove. Every minute they spent together was precious. Sean had been thinking the very same thought, and he turned his eyes off the road for a split second and caught the adoring look in Taylor’s eyes. She worshipped him. He loved that about her. She loved him for the man he was, for the simple pleasures he brought to her, not because he was wealthy and powerful. Touched by his kindness, his sensitivity, and his generosity, her love grew more intense with each passing day. She was the first person who had really loved him for himself, Sean Devlin. Taylor was in love with Sean, truly, deeply, not for what he could provide with the huge acquisition of his net worth.

That was the side of his life that had always irritated him. He was driven as a young boy, son of a successful businessman. At an early ago Sean had been groomed for success. He’d worked hard; he’d achieved all that he had set out to achieve. Everything he had done he’d done to please his parents. Yet the end result was not one of self-satisfaction, but of resentment. He had been a source of pride for his parents, leaving his two brothers more than a little resentful. They’d been underachievers. Always were. Always would be. But Sean! He knew how to get ahead in the world. And what if he hadn’t; how would his parents have felt?

Betty and Ryan Devlin had taught him well. Molded him into the successful businessman he was. He wondered why he couldn’t feel more gratitude for that. Maybe it was because once he’d made it to the top everyone he’d met wanted to be around him, wanted to befriend him.

Sean had always been able to see right through them. They wanted something from him. Money, business advice, backing, whatever. There was no one who had loved him for himself. For what was in his heart. Until Taylor. She loved him for the man he was, and always would. Whether he had a nickel or a million dollars, it didn’t matter to her. She loved the way he smiled, the way he walked. In the still of a quiet night she would recall the sound of his voice, a low, sensuous melody. Her heart would almost burst; it was so full of love for him. She would think of the way he looked at her, a treasured gift she carried wherever she went.

The sun had begun to set, and the last of its rays sent a golden trail through the wispy clouds.

Look how beautiful! Taylor exclaimed, pointing upward.

"M-m. Not as beautiful as my woman! Sean answered.

She really was gorgeous. And not just because he loved her, he thought as he pulled into the mall parking lot. Sean had met Taylor behind Macy’s earlier, and she had left her car parked in the lot. They both felt the sad pangs of their wonderful day coming to an end. Some day it wouldn’t be this way, he hoped. But he wouldn’t say that to her. Not today. He would never make promises he couldn’t deliver. He’d see her on Monday, day after tomorrow. It shouldn’t feel so painful!

I had a beautiful day, honey. I’ll miss you, Taylor sighed wistfully. She’d be with him again soon. It was just that every minute apart from him was empty.

I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll dream about you.

You promise? Taylor asked. She eyes grew wide and she sounded like a little girl.

I promise. Sean took her in his arms for one last kiss. All the love, and all the passion, was sealed with the promise, and the hope that they shared with their love.

Chapter 2

Four year old Taylor Michaels and her six year old sister Elaine stood next to each other, horrified at the scene in front of them. Taylor wrapped her tiny hands around her sister’s arm in an effort to free herself from a gripping fear, and fear that head numbed her hands and feet, leaving her frozen in place.

The man they watched epitomized evil. His huge, dark, blazing eyes looked down at the woman who stood before him, trembling. He reached a dark, hairy, arm down towards her bare shoulder and kneaded his fingers into it. Please stop, you’re hurting me, the woman begged.

I’m hurting you? he exclaimed, his anger building. You don’t even know the meaning of the word, you tramp! he yelled.

The terrified young woman turned from him in an effort to get away, but he grabbed her long, wild, bleached hair and pulled her close to him as she shrieked.

Just try getting away from me, he dared, just try!

She stared up at him with pleading eyes, trying to reason with him. Please…don’t hurt me… Please!

I’ll take pleasure in it. He spat at her as his hand came down across her soft cheek. The woman put her own hand up to her cheek as a reflex. The enraged man delivered another blow to the other cheek and his frightened prey covered her face with her hands as she backed away.

Don’t, I’m begging you! she pleaded, sobbing.

Taylor tugged at her sister’s arm. She wanted desperately to run away, but Elaine remained frozen in place, her eyes riveted to the scene that unfolded before them. The true ugliness of the man surfaced in full force as he pounded his fist just over the woman’s left ear. Grabbing her hair again. She gasped for breath and tried to run.

Let’s run too! Taylor whispered to Elaine. She had been clutching her sister’s hand so tightly that Elaine was beginning to feel an uncomfortable tingling I her fingers. They never should have seen this! And yet, the two little girls were so mesmerized by the scene in front of them that they remained riveted to the spot, with Elaine ignoring her sisters scared pleas. Taylor clutched Elaine’s hand.

The woman’s attacker grabbed her by the throat and easily spun her around to face him again. The assailant’s back now faced the girls, which spared them the sight of the gruesome finale. With one hard blow, his hand came down across the woman’s nose, and there was a loud sickening sound of breaking bone, as the blood splattered over her face. She staggered backwards and began to fall to the ground as the madman unmercifully continued to pound his fist into her face. She lay on the ground moaning, semi-conscious.

Taylor was too terrified to speak. She whispered into her big sister’s ear. Let’s tell Mommy! she pleaded, trying to quell the queasy feeling in her stomach.

Sh-h-h! her sister whispered back, as she put her finger over her lips to silence the younger sibling., obviously The girls suddenly sensed another presence behind them, and they jumped as they turned around to face their father, who had a disgusted look on his face.

What kind of garbage do they show on this thing! he demanded obviously annoyed as he walked across the room to change the channel on the television for his daughters.

Gregory Michaels was a non-violent man; in fact he was a man who was repulsed by violence of any kind, or any sort of fierce verbal altercation, for that matter. His well-mannered upbringing, which had been instilled to him by his British parents, was reflected in many of his personality traits. He called to his wife, the master of the house, who was preparing dinner in the tiny kitchen of their apartment.

Mitzi! What the heck are these girls watching?"

They’re supposed to be watching Captain Kangaroo, Mitzi called from the next room. I just turned it on for them.

Did they change it?" She didn’t wait for an answer.

I’ll be right there, Mitzi called as she stirred the gravy on the top of the stove and put the cooking spoon down on the spoon rest on the counter top.

He’s too helpless to even find the right channel, she thought, amused and annoyed at the same time as she walked into the living room waving a stern dishtowel. It was a typical day in the Michaels household, and Mitzi was the one in charge of everything.

Who changed the channel? she demanded.

Taylor did it! Elaine was quick to reply. Her little sister had indeed flipped the channel just minutes ago.

Bad girl! Mitzi’s eyes were cold and stern. Taylor, barely able to comprehend what had happened, started to cry.

Let’s get Captain Kangaroo back. Mitzi flipped the channels back until the Captain’s smiling face came back into view on the little black and white set.

Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Mitzi announced., doing an about face as she marched quickly back to the kitchen.

Taylor’s brief crying jag ceased, and the girls’ father, Greg, sat down in his old familiar spot on the couch, pickup up the pack of Camels that were lying on the end table, and lit up a cigarette. He perused the newspaper, which had been neatly placed in the magazine rack next to the sofa, and carefully read the local section, which ha hadn’t gotten to finish that morning. Elaine looked carefully at the front page of the paper, which was facing her now, as her father held it up to read something on the back page he’d missed. She was still trying out hew new, thick lensed pair of glasses her parents had just discovered she desperately needed.

The New York Times, Monday July 17, 1955, she read out loud, very slowly and proudly, as she pointed to the lettering at the top of the newspaper.

Very good! said her father, always generous with his praise and encouragement. Too generous, in Mitzi’s opinion. Elaine went back to watching television with Taylor. Greg finished reading, and looked at his two contented girls sitting on the floor in front of him. They certainly were adorable and the best-behaved girls you could ever want. They had to be. Mitzi ruled with an iron fist, and they were taught to walk like soldiers even at an early age. Their father enjoyed being at home with then, but he had a propensity towards leaving most of the child rearing, family plans and decisions up to the girls’ mother. He figured it was easier to concentrate on his job in New York City and its commute, and leave all of life’s other details to Mitzi. Besides, he’d never have the audacity to overrule her.

A Senior Insurance Underwriter for the Prudential Insurance Company, he had relocated from Canada two years ago, when the position had opened up and had been offered to him. Mr. Michaels, a kind man, was well liked by everyone who met him. He had a great sense of humor and a knack for making those around him feel at ease.

He was tall, just over six feet, and very thin. His strawberry blonde hair had balded in a wide circle at the top of his head. Tiny freckles dotted his fair, ruddy skin. His big green eyes seemed too large for his small face and were framed with blonde eyelashes and eyebrows that were almost invisible. But his eyes were kind; his smile always sincere.

His youngest daughter, Taylor, had inherited the strawberry blonde hair and light skin coloring, and those big, green eyes. Elaine had the same green eyes as her father. And now, she had the large, thick glasses Her coloring she’d inherited from her mother, the straight chestnut hair, and the olive skin. The girls were rail thin, just like Greg, but Mitzi, being from German stock, was short and solidly built.

Dinner’s ready! the matriarch called from the kitchen. Elaine scampered over to the television and snapped it off, and the three of them went in to eat. They had a quick meal together, and when they had finished eating, Mitzi ordered Elaine to help her clear the dishes and put them in the sink to be washed.

Why doesn’t Taylor help? Elaine asked.

‘Cause she’s too little, and she would break things, her mother explained.

When will she be big?

Soon, her mother answered, as she scraped the plates and began to rinse them in the sink. You and Taylor go to your room now. Keep your sister busy with a game.

Elaine followed her mother’s instructions obediently, leading Taylor by the hand and taking her to the small bedroom the girls shared.

Greg chain smoked as he watched TV.

That’s six in the past forty minutes, Greg! Mitzi scolded, glaring at the dirty black ashtray filled with butts.

Minutes later Mitzi called for the girls to get ready for bed and kiss their Papa goodnight.

Goodnight, Papa! they cried as they kisses and hugged their father. Holding on to Mitzi’s own familiar name for father maintained her sense of old world Austria where she was born, She would bu no means let Taylor and Elaine Americanize their father into Daddy.

The girls’ mother tucked them in, giving them a quick peck on the cheek. Taylor wished her mother hugged them the way Papa did. Why didn’t she, Taylor wondered as she crawled under the sheets? Why don’t you give us a big hug and kiss like Papa does? Taylor asked her mother.

Don’t be a baby! her mother answered angrily. How demanding could one child be?

And what would be the sense in coddling them, demonstrating that weakness could prevail. The world was not weak and one had to be strong in order to stand up to the harshness of life. No kisses!

It’s supposed to be a nice day tomorrow, so we can go down to the beach, Mitzi toldthe girls.

Goodie! Elaine said smiling widely.

"Goodie! Mimicked her little sister, as their mother turned out the light.

The next morning Mitzi was still dozing when she heard Taylor and Elaine talking in their bedroom. Greg had long since left for work.

Mitzi got up, put on a robe and went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. The weatherman had promised a beautiful, sunny day, and he had been true to his word.

Once breakfast was out of the way the girls adorned their bathing suits and grabbed their pails and shovels. Mitzi grabbed the beach towels out of the tiny linen closet and they headed for the beach.

The Michaels had lived in Far Rockaway, a town on the south shore of Queens County, New York, for two years now, and they loved it. Their five year apartment was beautifully maintained with a courtyard and playground embraced and protected by the four complex building that also guarded the sea and the crystal like beach behind it.

Next door to the Michaels lived Eric and Steven Grier, who played endlessly with Taylor and Elaine, Sand boxes.

Jungle gyms. The sliding boards and sea saw were never far from their imaginations.

And on this morning the girls stayed close to their mother as she led them across the courtyard to the beach, through the chorus of beach chairs and umbrellas.

Mitzi had always been a sun worshiper, and it had practically been a trait that was ingrained in her daughters. It was a treat to be able to slip their bathing suits on and walk down here in the summer, any tine the sun was shining, In the late spring and early fall, Mitzi would often bundle up the girls and walk along the beach, a thermos of hot chocolate in tow. Papa, with his ultra sensitive fair skin, usually avoided the beach, no matter what the season. A horrible second-degree sunburn he had gotten years ago instilled in him a permanent fear of the sun.

The long beach stretched down to the west at least a mile or two. Several hundred people were already there enjoying the sand and surf. Brightly colored, boldly pattered umbrellas lined the beach. Three lifeguards ‘ chairs were perched high above the sand at different locations. The rays of the sun flitted along the water like diamonds. The large waves rolled in to shore one after the next, crashing as they tumbled and became white foam.

Mitzi led the girls toward the water like a mother duck leads her ducklings, and then stopped halfway down to the surf. This is goo, said Mitzi, as she opened up her small beach chair, set it down in the sand, and then spread out the girls’ blanket.

Elaine began digging in the sand with the shovel as Taylor watched. Can we go down to the water? Elaine asked. It’s better there."

Fine, but let me come down with you, Mitzi replied. The girls ran down to where the waves were dancing on the shore, as Mitzi marched behind.

Elaine and Taylor began digging into the wet sand, filled up their pails with it and carried it to the drier sand about twenty feet inland.

We’re making a castle, Mommy! Elaine shouted to her mother, who was wading in the shallow water.

Good, their mother replied, as she watched the little girls work on their creation.

Elaine began to mold some of the wet sand together as Taylor attempted to help. Bath and forth Elaine ran, scooping, filling, dumping and building. She thought it would have been better if Taylor wasn’t around to mess up her work. She had to keep stopping to tell Taylor not to touch the walls she had created. Taylor’s job was to take a shovel and make curving roads around the outside of the castle, but sometimes she got confused, and her efforts were counterproductive to the construction.

Mommy! Taylor’s messing it up! Elaine whined.

You have to show her how to do it! Mitzi called from the water’s edge.

Before too much time had gone by, Elaine had finished her castle.

Look, Mommy! Look at the castle! Elaine shouted proudly.

I helped, too! Taylor added.

Nice, said their mother unenthusiastically. Let’s go for a dip now.

Mitzi took their tiny hands, one on each side of her, as they waded into the foamy water, the waves crashing at their knees.

It’s rough today, so we’re not going in too far, Mitzi told them.

They frolicked for just a few minutes, until Mitzi signaled to them to get out of the water. They usually stayed in longer, but the strong undertow today was fierce and exhausting.

Emerging from the water, they passed Mark Moskowitz, one of the little boys who lived in their building. He was Elaine’s age, and they played together at the playground. But he especially intrigued by her younger sister, with her mass of wild, curly red hair.

Hi, Taylor! Mark called out wit a happy grin. They lingered together in the shallow water near the breaking, foaming waves. Elaine had been anxious to come out of the water; the bottom of her foot had begun to sting.

Mommy, I cut my foot, she whined.

Let me see, Mitzi said, leading her out of the water towards the sand. It was probably nothing, just a little scrape from a tiny shell. Elaine leaned against her mother and showed he the injury. It’s just a tiny boo-boo, said Mitzi as she rubbed her daughter’s foot. See, all better.

Taylor frolicked in the shallow water with Mark for another minute. They laughed with joy as a giant wave broke across their small chests. I know how to swim! I learned how at the YMCA. Mark said proudly.

You do?" Taylor asked, impressed with this knowledge.

Want to see? Mark asked."

Yes, show me! Taylor replied.

Watch me! he cried, as he went out into the water, which had become crowded with swimmers, seeking relief from the blazing summer heat. He turned around to face Taylor at the shoreline, watching him with a happy grin.

I watching! she cried gleefully.

Mitzi turned towards the water again. Taylor! she yelled. I told you to come out of there! She would not tolerate this kind of insubordination. Right now! she called firmly.

Taylor glanced at Mark one more time. He had already begun swimming out to where the older children were bobbing around, thrashing through the water at awkward angles.

Taylor ran to the spot where Mitzi waited impatiently. But Mark had asked her to watch him! "But…said Taylor. She was torn between her promise to watch Mark and the fear of her mother, and she looked back towards the water, but she had already lost sight of him in the sea of swimmers.

No ‘buts!’ I said now! Mitzi scolded. One more second and she’d get a good, hard spanking right here and now. Taylor quietly followed her mother, as she led the girls to their blanket in the sand.

The girls ran to the blanket just ahead of their mother and reached for the small cooler. Can we eat lunch, Mommy? Elaine asked.

Wait fifteen minutes, said Mitzi. They certainly were demanding! She needed a little break.

An acquaintance of Mizi’s, May Gleason, strode by their blanket, carrying her one-year-old girl, whom her mother was watching while she was at the beach with the boys.

Oh, hello, May! Mitzi called.

Hi, Mitzi, May responded. She paused at Mitzi’s blanket to chat.

How are you feeling? Mitzi asked. It had to be brutal being pregnant in this heat! But she wasn’t the least bit sympathetic, really. Why should she feel sorry for May; she made her own choice in having a fourth baby. What a stupid woman! Didn’t she realize she could get an abortion in Puerto Rico? Her friends certainly must have told her that! May had to be a glutton for punishment to be adding a fourth child to her presently overpopulated brood.

Mitzi wondered if she and Greg night try for a boy one day, but that would definitely be her limit. Three would be more than enough! She could have stopped at two, if Taylor had been the boy that she and Greg had hoped for!

The heat’s gotten me very swollen! May said, but it will be over in six weeks, thank God!"

Oh, no, don’t start with that ‘God’ thing, Mitzi thought. Let’s talk Santa Claus and Easter Bunny. Mitzi was a staunch atheist, and that God and Heaven was nonsense. The people who needed it were too weak to depend on themselves, and, in Mitzi’s eyes they needed a crutch.

Well, it’s pleasant down here by the water, anyway, Mitzi said with a polite smile.

Yes, yes it is, May said. The boys had begun to tug on her legs impatiently, one on either side of her. You enjoy your day, she said as she turned and proceeded with her walk down to the water with the boys.

Yes, you too, May! Mitzi responded.

Mitzi took out her tiny eye goggles, covered her eyes and lay down on the blanket comfortably for another ten minutes.

Mommy, is it time for lunch? Elaine asked timidly.

Acknowledging lunchtime, her mother opened the cooler and took out the sandwiches, handing them to her daughters. Mommy’s going to rest for a few more minute, Mitzi said lying down on the other side of the blanket, and closed her eyes.

Elaine was humming a jingle she had heard on Captain Kangaroo, and Taylor was trying to imitate her. Taylor noticed a group of people gathering at the ocean’s edge, and saw a woman crying, then two men were running off the beach towards the playground.

Mommy, dat lady cryin, Taylor said. The sun glistened off her jellied face.

Mitzi was enjoying the warm rays on her skin. She must be sad, Mitzi answered.

Dose men are running, Mommy! she said, hoping to get her mother’s attention. Elaine and Taylor had the feeling something was wrong. Elaine licked the peanut butter off her hand, and then wiped her sticky hands across the front of her bathing suit.

The lifeguard began to blow his whistle and signaled the swimmers to exit the water.

What? Mitzi asked, sitting up quickly, jolting herself out of her relaxed state.

Over dare, Mommy, see? Taylor said, pointing towards the crying woman.

"Mitzi took a quick glance in the direction that Taylor was pointing and recognized Anita Moskowitz, Mark’s mother, and a close friend of May Gleason.

The little boy, Mark, who they’d just seen just a few minutes ago, played with the Gleason twins.

Anita had been crying, and was now being led toward a blanket on the sand where she collapsed, wracked with sobs. A circle of people gathered around her in an attempt to comfort her.

Seeing May Gleason in the circle Mitzi stood up and walked over to May hastily. As Mitzi approached the group, May stepped out of earshot of Anita. Oh, Mitzi, this is horrible. Mark was playing in the shallow water, Anita turned her head, and he was gone! That was twenty minutes ago, May despaired.

He probably walked farther down the beach. Mitzi was not one to worry.

But everyone fanned out and walked down for a least a mile, looking all over the beach, as well as the water. The lifeguards radiod each other to evacuate the waters, and Mark still hasn’t been found. This is horrible, just horrible, May said desperately. Every minute that goes by makes it more hopeless. A very pious woman, she gripped Mitzi’s hand. Say a prayer, Mitzi, she implored, and left her go back to her friend and the circle around her.

No, it was no time to pray, but Mitzi did continue to hope for the boy’s safe recovery, of course.

What happened, Mommy? Elaine asked. She’d never seen people looking this anxious.

Mark Moskowitz is missing, her mother said. Oh dear, Mitzi sighed as the reality of the situation began to set in.

My friend, Mark? Taylor asked.

Yes, I guess nobody was watching him, Mitzi said.

Waves of shock and despair buckled Taylor’s knees like a lead weight driving her into the sand. I told him I’d watch him. I told him…

The crowd on the beach seemed to have grown in size; everyone now gathered along the shoreline and called out the boys’ name.

A couple of minutes later the first aid squad truck appeared at the edge of the playground and several men jumped out of the vehicle and dashed toward the water, slowed down by the weight of their heavy shoes in the soft sand.

An ambulance and two police cars raced onto the macadam, their sirens blaring as the red lights on their roofs spun around in circles.

The lights on top of the ambulance continued to flash, as people waded up and down the water’s edge, some frantically called out Mark into the now empty waters. People were crying everywhere. The heartbreaking scene etched itself into the memory of Taylor and Elaine forever, and would remain the first recollection Taylor had of her childhood.

The lifeguard on the stand had blown his whistle repeatedly and the remaining swimmers had been evacuated. The other guards jumped into the rowboat at their station, and rowed out into the deep sea. One of the men remained in the boat, rowing gently, while the others searched the waters.

The additional four lifeguards at the other two stands to the west of them followed suit, and had also radioded the entire beach, clear down to the next town to begin a search. After probing the water for another forty minutes, they were ready to give up the search and call in the back-up team for a recovery effort. There would be no rescue now. No tears of joy and gratitude. Too much time had lapsed. One of the lifeguards, about to get back into the boat, felt something brush against his leg.

I felt something! he yelled as he plunged his body underwater and spotted the small, lifeless body. He listed the young boy onto the boat, and checked for vital signs. There were none.

He began CPR on the boy while the other lifeguard rowed furiously to the shore. The limp little boy was immediately taken by the first aid