The Sandbar Walk

Hugo lived in a small house by the sea. One Saturday, his niece Cleo came to stay.

"Can we see the seals today?" Cleo asked.

"Yes," said Hugo. "But we must go at the right time."

He took a paper from the kitchen table. It showed the times of the tide. "The sea goes out at ten," he said. "Then we can walk to the sandbar."

"What is a sandbar?" asked Cleo.

"It is a long road of sand. It goes to a small island. The seals sleep there."

"Does the sea come back?"

"Yes. At noon it comes back fast. We must leave before twelve."

Cleo looked at the clock. It was nine thirty. "Let's go now," she said.

They put on old shoes. Hugo put water and bread in a bag. Cleo took a small notebook and a pencil.

At ten o'clock, the beach was very wide. The sea was far away. The sand was wet and hard. Little shells lay everywhere. A white bird walked in front of them.

"The road is open," said Hugo. "Stay next to me."

Cleo found a blue shell. She held it up to the light. "Can I keep it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Hugo. "The sea gives us many gifts. But only take one."

She put the shell in her pocket. It felt cold and smooth.

They walked for twenty minutes. The sand was cold under their feet. Cleo stopped many times. She looked at the crabs in the small pools. She drew them in her notebook.

At last, they came to the island. Hugo put a finger on his mouth. "Now we are quiet," he said.

Behind a big rock, six seals lay in the sun. Two were big and grey. Four were small and brown. One small seal looked at Cleo. Its eyes were round and black.

Cleo did not say a word. She sat down and drew the little seal. Hugo ate some bread and watched the water far away.

After an hour, Hugo looked at his watch. It was eleven fifteen. "We need to go," he said.

"Five more minutes, please," said Cleo.

"Five," said Hugo. "Not six."

He laughed, but he looked at the water again. It was still far away. But it came closer.

Cleo drew one more seal. Then she closed her notebook. They said goodbye and walked back to the sandbar.

But the sea came faster than Hugo thought. Water ran over the sand in thin silver lines. Soon the sand was wet and soft. A small wave touched Hugo's shoe.

"Walk fast," said Hugo. "Do not run."

Cleo took his hand. They walked and walked. The water reached their ankles. It was cold, and it made Cleo shout. The beach was only fifty steps away.

"Forty," said Hugo. "Thirty. Twenty."

At last, their feet touched dry sand. They sat down and laughed. Their shoes were full of water.

"We were lucky," said Hugo. "Next time we leave at eleven."

"Next time I draw faster," said Cleo.

She opened her notebook and held it up. On the page, the little seal held one flipper up. It looked like a wave goodbye.