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. Sometimes, however, it is the children who establish a tradition or add a keepsake to the family lore, and such is that red whistle of our daughter’s.

I have to smile whenever I see that whistle left behind by Melanie, as she headed off to find her way in the world. Draped about the neck of a garishly outfitted antique dress form on the landing of our stairway is that red lifeguard's whistle on a lanyard. Although Melanie has gone away to college, Marsha, my wife, insists that we leave the dress form alone just a bit longer. So, it stands sentinel above the stairs, uniformed in feathered boas from High School spirit rallies, assorted scarves and necklaces, and a cowboy hat creased “just right” for line dancing.

But it is that red whistle that brings a smile to my face and 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” that had been 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 had rushed home, excited with the news that she had been interviewed 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 try-outs. But Melanie was a good swimmer and enthusiastic about any task she tackled, so we had 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, 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. But 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 interviews, and 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. However, in spite of her training she still worried that her petite size might be a factor if 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?” We knew she hoped she was projecting an aura of authority that would keep her in control of the beach. One day the challenge came, and that evening Melanie related her moment of truth to us.

Earlier at the lake Melanie was 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 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 right 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 red whistle and... the police as backup to give you that aura of authority!”

Published in Phyllis Scott Publishing's 2011 Anthology 'Far and Cursed Shores'
Republished in Ulu Review October 2023 https://www.theulureview.com/james-fox-aura-of-authority.html