It was late in the day, the low sun sweeping the beach. But the water was still blue. On the sandbar off shore, heavy waves rose, falling as if exhausted. A man in hip boots was surf casing. A boy and girl, almost teenagers, were playing catch. I had been reading and was thinking of going home when the woman walked by. She wore a dark raincoat and carried high-heeled shoes in her hands. Her short, blond hair was greasy looking. She glanced at me. Her thin face had a feline look.

She headed straight for the water, dropping her coat and shoes on the sand. She wasn't wearing a bathing suit, just black underwear. I knew what she was up to. I jumped to my feet and ran after her. She was wading in, raising her arms, shocked by the cool water. Wait! I cried. She turned around. Get away from me! Her voice was thin, almost child like. Look, I said, making a calming gesture. Whatever it is, it's not hopeless. Believe me! I'm a psychologist. You're a shit! she cried. I grabbed her arm. She fought furiously, slapping and kicking me. She bit my hand. I let go. She dove through a wave and begin swimming. She was a strong swimmer, rising over the waves, falling into the troughs and appearing again. I didn't know how to swim She was heading out to the sandbar.

The fisherman had walked over. He had a round, sunburned face and round eyes that made him look vaguely surprised. What was that about? he said. She's committing suicide, I said. My voice was quavering. He glanced out at the water. Oh my God! He took a cell phone from his back pocket and called the police. The girl climbed onto the sandbar. She's so young, the fisherman said. She dove off the sandbar and began swimming out into the ocean. The wind was throwing up whitecaps.. Man, that water's cold, the fisherman said. It was hard to follow her. I thought I saw her and then I didn't. I picked up her raincoat and shoes. The kids had stopped playing catch and stood holding hands and looking at us.

Two policemen came along the beach in a dune buggy. The sergeant had a thick, red mustache. His partner looked nervous. I told them the story. The sergeant scanned the water with binoculars. His partner picked up his radio. We heard a lot of static, a lot of voices talking at the same time. What the hell are you waiting for? the fisherman shouted, pointing at the ocean. Call a helicopter! Call the Coast Guard! They're sending a launch, the young cop said. To hell with a launch! We need a helicopter! The only copter is down, the cop said. This isn't a movie, mister. I handed him the raincoat and shoes and he put them in the back of the buggy. You know her name? the sergeant asked. I shook my head. I never saw her before. The fisherman started pacing. This is terrible! This is depressing! You want to give a statement? the sergeant said. No, he said, suddenly defensive. I didn't see anything. He pointed to me. This guy did. I'm going home. He walked away. The kids had disappeared too. Finally, a Coast Guard launch, appeared, white hulled like a large rowboat, two sailors looking out at the water. She sees them, maybe she'll change her mind, I said. They do, the sergeant said. Sometimes it's too late. Holy hell! the young cop said. I saw it too: something flashing in the water. The sergeant peered through his binoculars. A swimmer! Yes! Now I could see her arms catching the light. Is it her? I asked. Yeah, a female. The boat's going to miss her, his partner said. He called on his radio. More static, more voices. She climbed onto the sandbar. She'll never make it, the sergeant said. She dove in and began swimming to shore. The cops took a resuscitator and a blanket from the back of the buggy and we ran down to the shore.

She was struggling. Every throw of her arms seemed to be the last. Come on, come on, I whispered. Finally, she stood up and began wading. She fell down and got up. The cops ran to her. She put her hands over her face and fell into their arms. Her body looked blue. I hadn't realized how thin she was. The cops wrapped her in the blanket and started walking her to the buggy. She collapsed and the sergeant carried her. I followed. She tried to smile. I changed my mind, she said in that little voice. Good, I said, very good. A fish looked at me and I changed my mind.