Taken by Storm (9 page)
Authors: Angela Morrison
Tags: #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Christian, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Sports & Recreation, #General, #Religious, #Water Sports, #Death & Dying
Hey Michael,
You okay this morning? Sorry if I overreacted at the lake. I usually don’t scare that easy. It started out nice. I hope you aren’t sick. Thought you might like to read this—one writer to another. I like it better with your word. Thanks for the inspiration.
Later,
Leesie
SHE COMES TO ME
I lie in darkness,
spent of tears,
tired of sleep,
close to soft memories,
alive in her fuzzy sweater
draped on my chair.
I wrap my heart
in pastel patchwork
pieced by her hand,
my tired mind, empty,
open—
spent of tears,
tired of sleep,
close to soft memories,
alive in her fuzzy sweater
draped on my chair.
I wrap my heart
in pastel patchwork
pieced by her hand,
my tired mind, empty,
open—
The night erupts into flowing
white glory:
white glory:
She comes to me,
a pure and shining presence,
knocking on my soul,
defogged, unfuddled,
reveling in perfection,
spilling joy that
embraces my sorrow,
she smiles
and waves
farewell.
a pure and shining presence,
knocking on my soul,
defogged, unfuddled,
reveling in perfection,
spilling joy that
embraces my sorrow,
she smiles
and waves
farewell.
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 10/04 8:32 A.M.
chapter 11
POOL DIVE
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
i walk up to the pool from Gram’s. Thinking about diving—really getting off somewhere, strapping on tanks, and sinking a hundred feet—makes my heart pump warm blood all through me. Lukewarm? For the first time in this dreary wasteland, i actually feel hot.
Tonight’s a test. If this works, i’ll cut school and take off for a week. It’s still warm enough in the Keys. October diving is great there. The place is always next to empty. We loved that. But now—empty? i don’t know. It’s not just off-season. Maybe i could go, fool myself that the missing divers are all back home at work. But my mom and dad? Our condo sitting there full of all our best memories?
i better make it Cozumel, where i can lie back and drift on the currents, let them carry me back to the world Isadore stole. Silent Peaceful. Carefree as juvie fish flitting over the coral. Majestic as an eagle ray spreading its wings and flying through a canyon. Blue so true it sinks right through you. A load better than huddling under the pants quilt, holding my breath while Isadore shrieks at me. Freak—it’d even beat out my pills.
The lake yesterday. Huge mistake. I’ve never felt that freaked underwater. This time i’ll be in a safe, controlled environment. i’ve even got a buddy. She’s there already, pacing around her country girl white pickup that glows under a streetlamp.
Leesie meets me at the edge of the light. No smile. Arms folded. Hair pulled back. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Thanks for coming.” i feel so dumb. “Sorry for yesterday.” i kick a piece of gravel and then look back at her. Her eyes are blue tonight, fill her face. “Truce?”
She falls for that. An echo of her smile hints. With a little encouragement she’d fall for a lot more. She’d probably be better than diving in frozen lakes and swimming pools. But she’d have to be pretty good to top a week drift diving Cozumel.
i close in on her, whiff her trapped hair and hip suede, and almost ditch the dive test and go with the hormones she’s sparking. Maybe i’m not completely numb to chicks. Thawing? In the Ice Queen’s realm?
She backs off, turns toward the pool. “Let me show you the way in.”
We climb over the counter and drop into a room full of chewed foam noodles, lifeguard rings, and broken kickboards. A blow-up dolphin sags in the corner. i follow Leesie through an empty doorway out to the pool. i take off my jacket and slip off my track pants. i’ve already got my wet suit on.
She slaps her hand over her eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d be stripping again.”
“i’m not. Look, fully clothed.”
She peeks through her fingers. “That’ll keep you warm?”
i hold out my arm. “Warm enough.”
She comes over to me and touches the neoprene sleeve. “Poor DeeDee.” She tips her head back. Our eyes connect.
“What?”
“She’s missing a show.”
“Come off it.” i look like a string bean in a wet suit.
She eases away and perches on a picnic table.
i turn and stare at the water. “This is my thickest suit. i lost my three mil in Belize or i’d double up.”
“Belize?”
i ignore that. “Those are heaters, right?” Round plastic disks with black cords snaking out of them bob in the water. “They won’t electrocute me, will they?”
Leesie shakes her head. “You’re safe. They just keep the water from freezing—that’s it. You ready for another swim in ice water?”
i whip my weight belt around my waist and buckle it. “Be back in a minute.” i take two strides to the pool’s edge and dive in. It’s not painful like jumping into her lake. It’s cold, even with the seven mil, but i can hack it.
“Be careful.” Leesie’s pacing the pool’s edge. “What are you doing?”
i zone her out, kick my legs up, and fall through the water. i relax on the bottom, facedown, eyes shut. Everything’s sunlit blue. No black, dark lake. No quarry vis. i’m actually warm. My final dive with my parents, Mom in the lead, Dad and me lagging behind with the camera, replays in full color. We find a barrel sponge with a party of hermit crabs packed down its tube and shoot video of a pair of queen angelfish. Dad films Mom, and she pushes away the camera.
Lying on the bottom of that pool, i feel like i can open my eyes, and they will both be there, hovering inches above me. Just like Leesie’s poem. i want my parents. Come to me. Now.
My eyes stay shut. i know there’s only empty water and an ugly patch. My parents are gone. i hold my breath and swim with memories. The cold turns into a drowsy warmth, and my dream parents dissolve.
Then i’m trapped. Isadore has me. She sucks me deep. The pressure pains sharp in my ears. i manage to equalize before the drums rupture but use air. i slam into something hard, big rock, maybe a wreck, fight to the surface, think i’ve made it. Breathe and get seawater. Choke. i break the surface again and inhale through teeth clenched to keep the salt water out, packing like crazy. Isadore pulls me under again. i fight her, claw through the water trying to find the surface, holding my breath. i will myself to relax and float with the storm surge. The storm gets quieter and quieter, fades into shimmering Caribbean blue.
My parents are there—just through that canyon. i’m swimming as fast as i can, but i can’t catch them. They’re ahead of me. Caught in a current that won’t take me. Please. Wait. i’m almost there—
Leesie’s in the water, grabbing my weight belt, wrenching me away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” i shout at the surface.
“S-s-saving your l-l-life!” i don’t need her screaming in my face.
We swim to the edge of the pool. i climb out. She tries to pull herself up but can’t, so i grab her arms and yank her onto the pool deck.
“You’re saving me?” The cold air hits my wet suit, and i start to zip out of it. “Good one.”
She drags herself upright. “You don’t have to be a snot about it.”
Goose bumps rise on my chest. “i didn’t ask for a rescue.”
The glow of the streetlamp makes her face look bluish white. She pulls off a dripping fleece. Her skin shows through her soaked T-shirt. Her bra keeps her decent, but it’s made of thin stuff. As i peel my wet suit down to my waist, i can’t help noticing she isn’t totally flat-chested. Small, sure, but enough’s happening there to make me stare.
She gives me a lesson in Disgust 101 and crosses her arms. “You were down there for like four minutes. What was i supposed to think?” Her teeth chatter as the night air super-chills her wet clothing.
i put my hands on my hips. “i told you i free dive.”
“That means you don’t have to breathe like normal people?” Hysteria plays at the edge of her voice. “We had a deal.” She’s screaming.
“Shut up.” i glance around—expecting sirens or at least a night watchman. “You should have left me alone.” i keep my voice low and cold.
Her face draws up tight. “If that’s what you want.” She takes off, manages to get over the counter despite her soaked jeans and wet tennis shoes.
i pick up my duffel bag and follow her to the pickup. “You better get out of that wet stuff.” i hand her my towel. “You can use this.”
Her mouth drops. “Here? No way.” She pushes the towel back at me. Guess she doesn’t change much on boats.
“At least get in the truck. You’re going to freeze.” i push her into the passenger’s side, slam the door. i get dressed behind the truck, throw my bag in the back, and get into the driver’s side. “Keys.”
She points at the ignition where they swing, lets me try to start it a couple of times, then reaches over, slaps my hand out of the way, and turns the key. She jams her sopping shoe on my foot and pumps the gas pedal twice, holds it down halfway: the motor roars to life.
i back up, swing the truck around, and drive up the hill. Left, right, right and we’re in Gram’s driveway.
“Just leave it r-r-running.”
“You can’t go home like that.” i’m steamed at her, but she’s too cold. It could get serious if she doesn’t change fast. “You looked after me yesterday. My turn. Come in and get dried off.”
“Your grandmother will freak.”
“Asleep, remember?” i try to add something calm and reassuring to my voice. “Come on. Let’s get you into something dry.”
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