Aura Of Authority

Aura of Authority by James Fox
Cool lake waters, hot beach sand, and a powerful red whistle

We have a magical red whistle on our stairway landing. It is a keepsake from Melanie, our daughter. Many families have traditions and keepsakes that they pass along to their children. However, sometimes it is the children who establish a tradition or add a keepsake to the family lore. Such is that red whistle of our daughter’s.

I have to smile whenever I see the whistle that Melanie left behind as she headed off to find her way in the world. It is a red lifeguard’s whistle on a lanyard. It is now draped about the neck of a garishly outfitted antique dress-form on the landing of our stairway. Although Melanie has gone away to college, Marsha, my wife insists that we leave the dress form alone, just a bit longer.

So, the dress form stands sentinel above the stairs. It is uniformed in red and white feathered boas from high school spirit rallies—also assorted scarves and long, dangly, costume jewelry necklaces. Sitting on top is a cowboy hat creased “just right” for line dancing. But it's the whistle that brings a smile to my face. It reminds me of how our daughter has grown into a young woman who faces the world, full of poise and with an “Aura of Authority.” An “aura” forged under the summer sun, on the hot sand alongside the cool waters of our local lake.

On a spring day several years ago, Melanie rushed home excited about some news. She had qualified for an interview for the summer lifeguard staff at the local lake. That had been a goal of hers for quite some time. Our daughter is petite and was usually the smallest in her classes during her school years. So, Marsha and I feared her slight stature might be a disadvantage during the lifeguard tryouts. But Melanie is a good swimmer and enthusiastic about any task she tackles, so we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best.

Melanie had learned to swim early and had quickly taken to the water. We live just a few blocks from the lake, so we always had a rubber dinghy and a canoe available for the kids to use. Melanie was also on the summer league swim teams. As both of her older brothers had played on the water polo team in High School, Melanie tried out for the girls’ team.

She had been coached by her brothers in maneuvers that might make her stand out in spite of her small size. And both had encouraged Melanie to develop a “game face,” the fierce-some expression the team players adopt, fighting for possession of the ball. But she was passed over when the team was selected. While the rest of the family felt disappointment for her, Melanie, undaunted, had decided to work instead toward that coveted summertime position of lifeguard at the lake.

Melanie attended all the training sessions the Parks and Recreation Department had offered and was also certified in First Aid and CPR. But getting certified as a lifeguard and getting hired are two different things. When the day finally arrived that Parks and Rec posted our daughter’s name among those of the summertime staff, we were all excited that Melanie made the cut!

However, Melanie discovered this was literally just the baby steps in her pursuit of the lake staff position, for she was assigned to teach swimming lessons in one of the children’s pools at a city park. Still, Melanie accepted the job with enthusiasm and worked hard, believing that she would eventually be sitting in that tall chair overlooking the beach at the lake.

By the next year her fortunes had changed! Melanie had attended all the training sessions and landed an interview. She was excited to learn that her summer lifeguard duties would include rotating to the lake. Her first few weeks were uneventful, until the day a little girl stumbled and fell, sliding under the water, not resurfacing. Melanie had immediately jumped from the stand and sprinted into the water to rescue the child. “It was just my training kicking in,” our daughter modestly insisted.

In spite of all of her training Melanie still worried that her petite size might be a factor if teenaged rowdies at the beach decided to test her. “Just project an aura of authority,” her supervisor counseled. Melanie took this advice to heart.

Before leaving for work each day, Melanie would slip the whistle lanyard around her neck, tug on her lifeguard visor, adjust her stylish dark glasses and ask, “How do I look?” She hoped she was projecting an aura of authority that would keep her in control of the swimming area. One day the challenge came, and that evening Melanie related her moment of truth to us.

Earlier at the lake Melanie had been in the raised lifeguard stand at the beach when two boys began pummeling each other over some argument. Melanie had given a quick blast on the red whistle that hung from the lanyard around her neck. However, the boys continued to fight, so she had jumped down and run across the sand giving several more blasts of the whistle.

Running up to where the boys were fighting, Melanie had given a loud, long blast on the whistle, set her features into a fierce game face, propped her fists on her hips and bellowed as gruffly as she could for the boys to "stop fighting!" The boys glanced up and then with startled looks they immediately released their grips on each other. Melanie was surprised at how easily she had gained control.

“You know I could kick the both of you right off this beach,” she had chastised the two and they’d meekly nodded their heads. Then Melanie had warned, “It could be for the day or even all week, do you understand?” Again, the boys had nodded their heads in unison. “Listen,” she had ordered, “I don’t want any more fighting; so, you,” she had pointed at one, “go sit over by the beach chairs for the next ten minutes!”

She had pointed at the other boy, “And you go over to the picnic area and sit there. I’m not going to have any more trouble from either of you, am I?” To Melanie’s amazement, the boys had shaken their heads vigorously and each had rushed off to his designated time-out spot.

Melanie had run her thumb down the lanyard around her neck, amazed at the ease at which both of the boys had complied after her final blast of the whistle. She had used all of her training skills, yet she was still surprised at how obedient these two boys, who physically towered over her, had become.

Filled with confidence and empowerment, Melanie had given the whistle a jaunty flip and turned to head back to the lifeguard stand. It was then that she discovered the park patrolman standing right there behind her, one hand resting on his radio as the other idly fidgeted with his handcuffs case. He had grinned at Melanie and said, “You handled that perfectly. There won’t be any more trouble from those two!”

As she recounted that twist to the story, Melanie rolled her eyes and admitted that she had been both surprised and chagrined to discover the patrolman had been standing behind her the whole time! She had burst into laughter and I couldn’t help but tease her with a phrase that has made that whistle a lasting part of our family lore; “There is nothing like a powerful red whistle and... the police as backup to give you an aura of authority!”

Published in Phyllis Scott Publishing's 2011 Anthology 'Far and Cursed Shores'
Republished in Ulu Review October 2023