The Hairy Arm

It was Summer, 1969. I was eight years old. My parents took the family to a tiny motel on Martha's Vineyard. I remember playing in the pool and accidentally slipping into the deep end. I sank slowly, swallowing water. Then, I spotted a tanned, hairy arm, and it pulled me up out of the water.
I almost drowned! The lifeguard saved my life! I said, running to my mother.
My mother was distracted, talking to her friends.
I almost drowned! He saved my life!

She kept chatting.
I never forgot the hairy arm.