I was going to die. I could see the light of the surface two feet away, but I was going to die down here.
My swimsuit was caught in the screws of the boat, and there was no way I was going to pull it out. I was completely running out of air, there were black spots in my vision, and I didn’t even know if there was someone that could help. I mean, it’s not like I could call for help anyway.
***
I was sitting on the dock at our family cabin, my feet dangling in the chilly water, swishing them around. From afar, the water looked like a beautiful blue, so light it almost looked like the ocean. Close to the lake, it was a murky brown, the color of rootbeer. I turned up to face the cabin. It sat on top of a huge hill, with two beautiful granite rock faces staring back at me. My god-brother Jeff came up next to the dock, sitting in a blindingly bright green kayak and holding two water bottles and his paddles.
“Ready to go?” he asked. I jumped in the water beside him, hitting my feet on the squishy mucky bottom.
“Let’s move, then Kayak Boy,” laughing to myself as I swam away.
Halfway through the swim, Jeff started complaining.
“I’m tired, can we stop?” He whined.
“I want water.”
“How much longer.” Finally, I was done with it.
“We will get there in less than five minutes if you keep moving, let’s go,” I was seething. Why could he not just be quiet?
We made it across the bay in no time at all; Jeff’s watch told us it had been thirty minutes, but it felt like five. I clambered out onto the rocks, shaking off like a wet dog. The entire hill we landed on was full of blueberry plants. The blueberries were so ripe they were practically falling off. I pulled my shoes out of the kayak and started munching my way through the blueberry plants. Swimming made me hungry, I guess.
“Time to head back?” I groaned.
“Probably,” Jeff shrugged.
We made the slippery way back to the water's edge, and I jumped in a deep part while Jeff carefully climbed back into his tippy kayak. You would think that kid would have an easier time, considering it was an extra-large, designed to be not tippy, kayak. He had gotten in and out of it about a hundred times.
We started at a good pace, and the water was still nice and cool. Which was perfect because then I wasn’t getting hot, sick, or both, they tend to come hand and hand for me. We stopped a while later, so we could drink some water. I hung onto the side of the boat and drank from my water bottle with the other hand. I was starting to get tired, but I made it there just fine, so now I just had to get back, right? Plus, we were only a couple hundred feet away, so I could probably beat Jeff there. At this point, I was still swimming competitively, so most 50 yard races took easily under a minute. I was in good swimming shape, especially considering I was only 12.
“Wanna race?” I asked, already swimming away smiling.
“No fair,” he threw his water bottle in the boat and started furiously paddling after me. He was really competitive, so I knew this would get him moving.
I hit the dock first, slamming into the pontoon with my hand and bolting up to see Jeff less than 5 feet behind me. I thought he was going to hit me, so I ducked under the dock laughing.
“How was the swim?” My dad asked, stomping on the dock above my head.
“It was fine, I could do it again if Jeff wasn’t a wimp.”
He had been complaining about his arms since we got halfway across the first time. I wanted to be in the water still, so I carefully swam around the kayak. I knew from experience that those things f*cking hurt to get hit by. My brother had accidentally rammed one into my ribs a year ago. I had a bruise for weeks. I got around the kayak and swam out twenty feet. I wanted to keep everyone safe down in the lake, although you don't always get what you want. I laid back, closing my eyes and warming up in the sun. The sun was bright, and it warmed the water around me. Behind my closed eyes, I could still see the golden sun because they weren’t thick enough to block out the sun. I’ve always been comfortable in the water, or at least as long as I can remember.
After relaxing for a little bit, I sighed and sat upright, slowly touching my feet to the mucky bottom. For a moment, I forgot I existed laying back like that. I looked around, noting that Jeff had disappeared and that my dad was sitting on the bench we had just put on the dock.
“What's up dad?” I asked, standing up to face him.
“I dropped a couple nails down the side of the boat and I was hoping you could pick them up for me.”
“Sure, will you hold the boat away?”
“Of course.”
He pushed the boat away, and I wiggled in between them. I floated on the surface for a minute, letting the musk settle before diving below the surface. To be fair, it was only three or four feet deep, but I had to get to the very bottom to see these tiny nails. I scanned the ground within three feet of where my dad said he dropped the nails. I saw the first two about six inches in front of my eyeballs, and the third one was way off to my right, under the boat. I picked up the two right next to me before standing up to breathe before trying to reach the third.
“Those easy enough to find?”
“Yeah, these ones were no problem, but the third one is in a funky spot though. I can get it no problem, I just need more air.” I took a couple more deep breaths and then looked back over to my dad.
“You ready to grab that last one?” My dad asked, looking at my mud-covered hands.
“Yep!” I smiled.
I dove back down, trying not to stir up the muck as much as possible. If you stir up the muck, everything goes midnight black. As I always do, I completely 105% failed. You couldn't see which way was up or down by the time I got to where I thought I saw the nail. Now, time for the waiting game; how long can I wait, and how long will the mud take to settle. After counting to ten, all the muck had settled. I saw the nail because it was right where I thought it would be. The slippery little nail seemed like it was swimming away from me; although that didn't matter because I clawed it out of the muck, it was half-buried in as my back tapped the boat. I started to swim away before I felt a tug. I looked around to see if it was my brother or one of my god-brothers trying to play a prank on me, but no one was there.
Panic set in as nothing that could be holding on to me was in sight. I had just finished reading a part in my book about this girl who gets stuck under water because a hand grabs her and holds her there. The vivid description the author wrote made you feel like you were it that moment, and it was terrifying. Now I might feel it, so why did this have to happen now of all times?
I tugged on everything, the boat, the ground, my swimsuit. I pushed the boat away, trying to see what I was stuck to. It was my swimsuit, stuck to the boat. I was stuck, very stuck. The word stuck repeated over and over in my head. All I felt was blinding panic and terror. I tugged on it, and I twisted my body until I felt a release. My lungs were on fire, my eyes felt like they'd explode if I kept them open for longer, and my muscles felt weak like I couldn't stand even if that's all it would take. I pushed off the ground, clutching the nails to my chest. I frantically clawed my way out from under the boat while black spots danced in my vision. I frantically stood up; almost, hitting my head on the edge of the boat, and doubled over hacking.
The black spots of my vision gradually faded, my muscles felt stronger, and my lungs didn't burn anymore. The terror was still there, and I was shaking with all the emotions I was feeling. I was so grateful I got out of there but still terrified of the what-if. As I came back to the moment, and very very slowly, I noticed I was shaking, and that the water was ice. I climbed out of the water, dropped the nails in my dad's workbox, and curled up on the bench with my towel. It was warm out here, and the air was nice, with a little breeze. It sort of smelled like it might rain.
That was terrifying, but I don't have emotional permanence. I'll be ok, although I think I'll always have a fear of being underthings in the water. But it could be worse; I could’ve not made it out, then I wouldn’t be here to tell this story. I want to tell you that I now preach water safety or that I’m overly cautious in the water, but that would be a complete lie. I’m still a little stupid when I’m swimming, but I avoid boats like nobody else.