//|\\ allison scholz \\|//

Turtles in the Waves

My sister always said life is like digging for worms.
She said that sometimes all you find is plain old mud
and dirt, but other times you are able to pull out a
big fat juicy worm. I say my sister is just
disgusting. She is a tall, brown haired, brown eyed 15
year old girl, with freckles everywhere. I look
exactly the same. We are twins. Even though we look
the same down to the last freckle on the outside, on
the inside we are completely different people. She is
adventurous and spunky. She will do any dare, no
matter how stupid or embarrassing. I am shy and
boring.

My sister is always telling me, “Maggie you have to
have fun in life, it doesn’t last
forever.” I wish I could live by that, but somehow I
am different. I can’t just relax and go with the flow.
I always have to be the worry wort.
It was a scorching hot summer day last June. It was
so hot, our dog, Khaki, instead of running around and
playing, was laying on the porch with his tongue
sticking out. Mom got us mixed up again, just as we
headed out the door to get ready for the beach. She
hardly never mixes us up like our Dad does. That’s
probably because he only gets to see us on weekends
because my parents are divorced. As we were waxing our
surfboards, our little sister Missy came running out
screaming and crying. This was a daily routine for her
because Mom said she wasn’t old enough to come to the
beach with us. Missy is only six so I can see my mom’s

reasoning, but I still fell bad for her.
Missy ran to Molly’s side and begged through sobs,
“M..M..Molly, please take me with you!” Then she
turned to me with those big sad blue eyes. She is the
only one in our family with blond hair and blue eyes.
Missy gets it from my dad, though. When Missy was a
baby, Molly and I were envious of her. We both wanted
to have clean skin, we thought our freckles were blobs
of dirt that would never come off. So every morning
and before bed we would scrub our faces with Dove soap
until our checks were bright pink. Then our mom got
worried because of our continuous washing so she took
us to Dr. Kliff, who told us freckles weren’t blobs of
dirt. They were kisses from angels. When we were good,
the angels would fly down and give us kisses. For the
next two weeks we were on our best behavior so we
could get more angel kisses.
My mom came out to the driveway and tried to detach
Missy from Molly’s arm. When she finally yanked Missy
away we darted off so she couldn’t catch up. We ran
down hill,
turning and twisting through our winding shortcut
toward the beach. We finally reached the burning
gritty sand. We kicked off our sandals, and ran toward
the water. One thing I am not scared of is surfing. I
have been doing it for practically forever.
“Brrr, the water’s like ice!” Molly giggled as we
jumped into the waves. The water was pretty cold for
June. We paddled out to the sand bar and sat on our
boards waiting for the
perfect wave. It came a lot faster than I expected, so
I almost missed it, but we both got up. The wave, the
wind, the water spraying in my face made me forget
about everything going bad in my life. I even forgot
about my parents splitting up. I was on top of the
world. I looked over at Molly, and of course she was
being her show-off self. She was trying to scoot out
so she was standing on the very end of her board. She
started to gain speed and got ahead of me on the wave.
She turned her body and waved at me, but she lost her
balance and plunged into the water.
“Serves her right,” I muttered to myself. “That’s
going to hurt tomorrow!” I said out loud, because her
body slammed against the water pretty hard. I finished
the wave and expected her to be sitting in the sand
laughing at herself, but when I reached the shore she
wasn’t there. I looked over my shoulder and saw a
board with a green turtle painted on it. It was
Molly’s. She loved turtles ever since I can remember.
She always drew turtles in art class, watched the
turtles

at the zoo, and her first word was even turtle. When I
saw the abandoned board I knew this meant trouble. I
automatically sprinted toward the lifeguard stand, my
feet and heart
pounding. My eyes were watering and my mind was
racing. The white paint was peeling off the splintered
wood of the station.
I felt like a fish out of water gasping for air as I
cried, “My sister...she’s...in....water!” The
lifeguard on duty jumped down and grabbed his bright
red life saving aid. He ran toward the water, blowing
his whistle every two steps summoning for the other
guards to help. He dove in the water and started
paddling out to the sand bar. After this everything
seemed to go in slow motion. It was like I was someone
else watching. It was like the beach was a blueprint
and I was the architect looking down on it. I decided
to try to help by running up and down the shore
screaming my sister’s name over and over. My voice
started to go hoarse as I saw them dragging Molly out
of the water while another lifeguard called 911 and
then my mother. After this I finally realized how
scared I was. Molly wasn’t herself. You couldn’t even
see her freckles because of the blood. The ambulance
showed up right as my mom’s turquoise mini-van pulled
into the beach parking lot. I began to feel dizzy when
Mom and Missy ran up to me. The last thing I remember
was the look of horror on my mom’s face.
I woke up two hours later to the itchy feeling of
sand still on my arms and legs. The smell of sickness
filtered around the room. I looked up, finding myself
in a scratchy armchair in a very overcrowded room. I
had a blanket over me, the kind you get when you go on
an
airplane. There were all kinds of people in the room
with me. I didn’t recognize anyone. There were women
and men crying, or reading as they sipped on diet
soda. There were little boys and girls sitting on the
stiff carpet playing with whatever they could find in
their mother’s purses while nibbling on mushy gram
crackers
Then I remembered the look on my mom’s face, I jumped
out of the chair and let the blanket hit the floor. I
ran out of the room and sprinted down the long
hallway; even though, I had no idea where I was going.
I think I passed the same bathroom three times, but i
eventually found my mom in the cafeteria eating a
small salad. I sat down and listened as she told me
what happened after I fainted. The emergency medical
technicians put me and my sister on stretchers. Which
must have been embarrassing because I wasn’t really
hurt.
“Is Molly alright?!” I blurted out.
“ I really don’t know hunny,” she replied with an
unusual tone in her voice. She told me she had to go
to a meeting with the doctors, but before she she left
she gave the me the
directions to get where Molly was so I could visit
her. I followed her instructions, and found the
entrance to the intense care unit. I went to the woman
sitting at the desk who made me sit on a sofa which
was very hard and bumpy. It wasn’t nearly as
comfortable as the chair I had been in earlier. Then a
very pretty lady came out from the back room and she
explained to me that it would be very scary seeing
Molly because she would look completely different.
“I won’t be scared,” I told myself. Nothing could be
more scary than seeing Molly come out of the ocean
covered in blood. Another nurse then came out and
signaled to us that we could come in. As we walked
into another hallway, I got the chills. Somehow it
seemed colder than the rest of the hospital. We walked
passed a bunch of small rooms where the people inside
were hooked up to so many wires and machines it looked
like they were machines themselves. I almost ran into
the the woman as we stopped in front of room 14B. She
opened the door and let me inside. My eyes opened wide
with fear when I saw my sister. Her hair was not even
visible because off all the different colored wires
sticking out of her head. Her face was pale, her hands
were white and clammy, her eyes were closed, her mouth
was hanging open, and she had a deep cut that was
swelling, all along her forehead and the left side of
her face. She looked terrible, even worse than the
blood-covered Molly I saw this morning. You couldn’t
even tell we were

twins anymore.
The woman came up behind me and whispered in my ear,
“ A lot of doctors say if you talk to her, even though
she can’t talk back, she can hear you.” With that she
left me alone with my sister.
I must have stood there for a while just looking at
her, until I finally said, “ Hey Molly, why do you
have to be such a show off?” Of course there was no
answer, but I kept going, “Come on Mol, wake up and
let’s get out of here!” Somehow I got up the courage
to give my sister’s hand an encouraging squeeze, and
then I left. It was six o’clock, and I wanted to find
my mom.
When I walked into the cafeteria, Mom and Missy were
sitting at a table eating dinner. After we ate, Mom
told me she was going to spend the night at the
hospital, and she wanted me to take Missy home, and
spend the night there. This isn’t the solution I
really wanted, but under the circumstances I didn’t
complain. So Missy and I took the taxi back to our
house. Missy fell asleep on the way so when we got
there, I put her to bed with her clothes on. I took a
shower, and went into our bedroom. I shut the door and
started to cry when I saw our dog Khaki sitting on
Molly’s bed, waiting for her to give him a hug and a
treat, like she does every night. I ran over to
Molly’s bed being careful not to trip over her clothes
that lay all over the place. I gave Khaki a hug as I
cried into his dirty blond fur.
About an hour later, Khaki and I went for a walk. We
walked down to the beach that was now cold, except for
when you walked past a family huddling near an open
fire roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. I looked up
at the stars, spotting the Little Dipper, Molly’s
favorite constellation. I wished somehow that today
never happened. I wanted Molly to be at home reading a
book to Missy, or trying to finish a book report at
the last minute. But no, she was at the local hospital
lying in a cold lonely room with Mom sitting beside
her listening to all the
monitors beeping, and the machines humming. The wind
began to blow, and it got chilly so we headed home.
The next morning we got to the hospital early, and as
I walked toward room 14B, I saw a girl about my age in
room 12A. She looked really scrawny and fragile like
glass. It looked like if I touched her she would break
into a thousand pieces. She wasn’t hooked up to any
monitors, but her face was very pale. I knocked on the
door, and she let me in even though she seemed timid.
We introduced ourselves, and her name was Tabitha. She
had been in and out of this
hospital for one and a half years. She had a tumor
growing very slowly inside her kidney. She needed a
transplant. We talked for a while, and I told her
about my sister. Then I realized it was getting late
in the afternoon, and I had to go visit Molly, but I
promised Tabitha as long as my sister was in the
hospital I would visit her.
For the next few days, it was the same routine. Missy
and I would spend the night at home. We would go to
the hospital early. I would visit Tabitha, then Molly,
eat dinner in the cafeteria, and go home in a taxi.
Every time I asked how Molly was doing, all they said
was, “No change.” Everyday they could do a CAT scan on
her. Missy always thought this was funny because she
pictured a kitty cat giving Molly a check up. This and
Tabitha were the only things that made me smile
throughout the visits at the hospital.
One day when I went to visit Tabitha, she was really
excited, and the reason seemed very strange to me. But
if I were in Tabitha’s shoes I would be happy too.
Someone died in a car crash, and they might have to
right kind of kidney for Tabitha. When she told me the
news she had an enormous smile on her face, and when I
didn’t smile back, she gave me a puzzled look. She
looked a lot like Molly when she gave me that look,
and that made me even more depressed. I didn’t really
like the idea of having someone else’s kidney inside
her so I decided

to go visit Molly.
When I reached Molly’s room it was different. It
wasn’t just the sound of monitors
beeping. There were many people inside, doctors
mostly. They were talking very fast, and in
terminology I didn’t understand. I stood on a chair
behind them so I could see Molly better. My mom was
standing in the corner looking very pale and
frightened. The first thing that went through my head
was Molly’s dying! When I looked over at Molly, she
was sweating and face looked like she was in pain. My
mom’s eyes met mine, and she started to cry. I jumped
down from the chair and ran! I ran down the hallway,
past Tabitha’s room, past the woman at her desk, past
the ICU waiting room, past the crowded cafeteria, past
the gift shop, past the front desk, and out the door
into the pouring rain. I should have gotten a taxi,
but I kept running. I ran down Maple Drive, turned
left on Cherry Mill Road, and continued running all
the way down Crystal Lane until I reached the beach.
It was deserted-no children splashing, no frisbees
flying, no seagulls squawking, no fires crackling, and
no surfers surfing. I sat down in the mushy wet sand
looking out at the water. Even though no one told me,
I knew that Molly was in the
hospital right now, dying. I no longer had a twin
sister. I didn’t just lose my sister, I lost my best
friend. We would never be able to surf, laugh, or talk
together ever again. She was gone, gone forever. Then
I started to cry as I watched the whitecaps form on
the dull gray waves.
The next morning I had a terrible cold because I was
outside in the rain so long. I had to carry a box of
tissues around everywhere I went. When I went to room
14B, Molly was still there. They took her off the
machines, but her body was still there. They were
going to take her away this afternoon. I couldn’t just
stand there and look at her body, so I went to find my
mom. She was in a room talking to a lady with a
briefcase. She was telling Mom that Molly’s organs
could be donated to an organization. My mom was
actually thinking about signing the contract.
“Mom!” I yelled, “We can’t just let Molly be chopped
up, like vegetables!”
“Hunny, please,” my mom said trying to calm me down,
“Don’t you think something good should come out of all
this? If Molly is going to die, shouldn’t someone else
live?”
“No!” I blurted out without thinking.
“Maggie, you are being selfish.” my mom scolded,
“What would Molly have wanted?” I stopped. All the
anger and rage seemed to seep from my body. I thought
about Molly, She was always giving to others before
herself. She would have wanted to give up her organs
for
someone else. Even though that’s what Molly would have
wanted, that’s not what I wanted.
“No,” I cried, and rushed out of the room. And I was
considering running to the beach again, but as I
passed Tabitha’s room I realized she seemed even more
pale than usual. She had been crying because her eyes
were all red and puffy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I entered the room.
“The lady who died in the car crash didn’t have the
right kidney.” Tabitha explained, “But that’s not the
really terrible news. The really terrible news is that
these people are so cruel and selfish. Their daughter
is already dead and her kidney matches mine, but I
can’t have her kidney because they don’t want to ‘chop
her up’. Isn’t that the most awful thing you have ever
heard?” I slumped down in the chair next to her bed. I
was shocked. How could I let Tabitha go on suffering
when my sister was already dead? I dashed out of
Tabitha’s room, and sprinted back to my mom and the
lady who was getting ready to leave.
“Do it!” I sobbed practically screaming. “Let Molly’s
kidney be given to Tabitha!” My mom gave me a hug and
told me I did the right thing.

Sorrowful music was still playing as the breeze blew
through our hair. Tabitha and I were sitting on the
beach right after Molly’s funeral. We just sat there
looking at the transparent

clear water.
“ You know,” I suggested, “today would be a great day
for surfing.”
“Oh I don’t know how,” Tabitha answered looking down
at the sand.
“Oh it’s easy I’ll teach you.” I said as we got up to
climb the hill back to my house to get changed. I saw
a glimpse of something green over by the rocks so I
told Tabitha to go on ahead. I went over to the rocky
part of the beach, trying not to cut me feet on the
sharp
pebbles. I looked down and saw a surfboard covered
with sand. Somehow it looked very familiar. I tried to
brush it off as best I could and saw that painted on
it was a green turtle! A smile spread across my face.
I still wish Molly was here with us right now, telling
me a funny joke, or trying to teach me to stand on my
head. But I see Molly everyday, when I see a group of
turtles swimming, through Tabitha, and in the ocean waves.

back