I am the novice rank

My whistle is red and my cord is red

But strung around my new guard’s neck

I am primed to save lives

If I can do that 

What’s so wrong with being red?

 

When we sit on stand 

It’s her eyes that watch for danger

But my voice when she speaks

One whistle to warn a patron

Two to speak to a lifeguard

We’re one in the same

 

But as summer slowly wears down my guard

As heat drains her of energy I cannot replace

I see her eyes drifting to guards in blue

Working cooler stands

And guards in yellow on their hour long breaks

I cannot seem to cry out to her

“What’s so wrong with being red?”

 

Then the day came

It’s her eyes that see the girl

And my voice that announces the save

Then both our bodies are in the water

Pulling the victim to dry land

 

As we walk back to our stand, I feel her racing heart

and her grip around me in a joyous embrace

Praising me, “Our first save!”

 

Then a white bead is strung on my cord

My red cord

The first of my save count

As bright and beautiful as a guardian angel’s halo

My guard holds me up for the world to see

And I am content as she whispers in my ear,

“What’s so wrong with being red?”

 

Lydia Le- Red Lifeguard Whistle