Wet: Part 1

by Rivera, S. Jackson

  This time he put his hand over his own chest and pumped it slowly, simulating his heart beat. Then, he put his hand to her chest but stopped before making contact, asking permission with his eyes to touch her. He patted her chest rapidly hoping to tell her to relax. She nodded with understanding and closed her eyes. He watched her take another deep, calming breath, and it made him grin.

  “You’re too cute for your own good!” he said into his reg, knowing she wouldn’t hear him. “But you’re wasting our air.”

  He took her by the shoulder strap again and started upward, careful not to ascend too quickly. After what seemed a lifetime under the circumstances, he pulled her onto the shelf and headed toward the extra tank he’d left. He checked their air pressure . . . almost gone.

  He knew it wouldn’t hurt to stay at eighteen meters for a moment to off gas a little and clear their heads after going so deep, even if they were only at depth for a minute or two. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been down there. He tried to calculate it in his head while he adeptly switched her spent tank out for the extra one without having to remove her BC.

  Next, he gave her BC a thorough inspection and found one of her dump valves tangled in a D ring, holding it in an open position—the reason her BC wouldn’t hold air. It took some manhandling but he managed to remedy the problem. She dazedly watched him going through all the motions, allowing him to do what he needed.

  He gave her the OK signal by forming his fingers into the shape of an O, but with a question on his expression. Scuba masks and regulators didn’t help when trying to convey facial expressions but he’d never had trouble saying what he needed with his eyes.

  She nodded, but he repeated the signal again, still trying to teach her. She finally responded with an OK signal of her own. He checked her air pressure, full. He checked his own. He knew he only had a few minutes left and he would have to switch to the octo on her fresh tank. He glanced up, wondering if they would make it on one tank.

  To be on the safe side, he wanted to make a slow ascent, since he wasn’t sure exactly how long she’d been down. A full tank would normally be sufficient and not an issue, if it weren’t for her state of mind. She still sucked through the air too fast.

  His eyes dropped from the water’s surface, still sixty feet above, to look at her. When their eyes met, she lunged at him and threw her arms around his neck. The movement in the water knocked him backward, and he sat in the silty sand with her practically in his lap. Initially he thought she was still afraid, but when she didn’t let go, he realized it must have just hit her how lucky she was to be alive. He hugged her back and didn’t let go until she was ready, relieved himself.

  Thank you, God, for sparing this beautiful person. The world is a much better place with her in it. He took a deep breath, but before his lungs could finish their draw, the air was gone. She noticed and pulled back to see what he planned to do next. He put her octo in his mouth and gave her the thumbs up, time to ascend.

  He took hold of her inflator hose, raised it, and to her horror, let the air out of her BC. He started up, dragging her with him. She held perfectly still as if she didn’t dare move for fear of doing something to kill them both. He repeated the procedure on his own BC.

  As they rose, she must have noticed how he struggled to wrestle with both of their inflator hoses and watch his computer and air pressure while keeping a hold of her. She grabbed his BC strap and pulled herself into him as she watched his eyes. She held on like she never planned to let go. He smiled and let go of her so he could use both hands to manage everything. He’d stopped trying to signal to her to calm down because every time he did, she took a deep breath. It made him smile, even though there was no humor in the situation.

  They reached six meters, nineteen feet, and he stopped to off gas for a few minutes. Their air supply was in the red. Damn! I wanted to do two safety stops, just to be sure. There’s no way.

  Just as he thought they would have to take their chances with the bends, a tank magically appeared a few feet away. Randy must have figured they might need more air. He’d moved the boat to their bubbles and dropped a line at twenty feet with a fresh tank tied to the end and fitted with a set of regs.

  Paul took the regulator out of his mouth to show her his overly accentuated, relieved smile as he moved them to the fresh tank. He slipped his arms around Rhees, a little lower on her waist, because of her BC and the tank on her back. She threw her arms around his neck and held on as closely as she could the duration of their safety stop.

  Chapter 12

  Everyone scrambled to help them back on the boat. Paul motioned for Rhees to go first, but she was so spent, she couldn’t pull herself up the ladder with all her gear on.

  “Just a sec,” he said patiently and helped her remove her BC. He handed it up to Mitch, who took it and quickly handed it off to someone else. Paul put her hands back on the ladder. “Hang on.” He dived down just far enough to remove her fins for her, tossing them onto the boat and guiding each foot to the lowest rung on the ladder so she could stand. She still labored to pull herself up.

  “Mitch. Get her out of the fucking water!”

  Mitch obeyed and took one of her arms. Christian hopped to his side and grabbed the other and they hoisted Rhees onto the boat. They set her down on the platform at the back of the boat, and she collapsed backward, taking the deepest breath of the freshest air she’d ever breathed.

  Ulla handed her some water and told her to drink it. “Do you guys need oxygen?”

  Paul climbed onto the boat just seconds after Rhees. “I don’t think so, but keep an eye on her. Mitch. Shanni. Gear up. Go get my tank. My bottom time is fucked for the day.” He saw them give each other a quick glance. “Wait, you two, together, all alone down there? I don’t want to be here all fucking day. Christian. Go with Mitch.”

  Shanni frowned but she didn’t want to challenge Paul when he was in an obviously bad mood. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing by the look on their faces. Shanni and Shelli helped Mitch and Christian into their gear and over the side.

  “Shelli! Why didn’t you do a buddy check?” Paul boomed as soon as the two men submersed. His expression raged fierce and everyone took a step back.

  Shelli froze. “I—I did.”

  “Her dump valve was tangled. Her BC wouldn’t hold air. Not only should you have noticed that as a buddy, but you’re her instructor for heaven’s sake. You should have noticed her missing!” The volume of his voice escalated and he yelled by the time he finished.

  Shelli stood silently, torn between feeling remorse for her gross error and angry that he would treat her so harshly.

  “How much weight did you put on her?” he managed to ask in a quieter tone.

  Shelli hesitated to answer. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, taking a minute, realizing it was going to be bad. “Twenty-four,” she whispered.

  Paul’s eyes grew cold and his jaw set. His cheek twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Shelli!” Ulla, Shelli’s closest friend, gasped. “Did you do that on purpose . . . because of . . .”

  Paul’s eyes grew wide. It had never occurred to him Shelli could try to hurt Rhees because of him. Shelli jumped to her own defense.

  “Ginger told me it was best to weigh the newbies down until they learned to control their buoyancy. She said it was easier to put a little more air in the BCDs than to have to pull them back down every five seconds.”

  Paul’s brow furrowed in disbelief and fury. “Twenty-four pounds?” he asked incredulously. “Look at her! Even if—”

  “She’s got boobs!”

  Paul closed his eyes, unable to comprehend what Shelli could have been thinking.

  “Ginger was your favorite. She trained you . . . I thought, if she did it, everyone did?”

  “You’ve been doing
this to all the newbies?” The words came out hoarse. He had to work to keep it steady, but everyone recognized a ticking bomb. “Has anyone else been doing this?” he snarled as he glanced around the boat at the others.

  Shelli dropped her gaze. Paul’s mouth tightened into a straight line and he closed his eyes again. He had to bite his lip from the inside in an attempt to stay calm. He finally turned away from Shelli, glanced quickly at Rhees, who appeared to be asleep, and then hopped up onto the side of the boat. He stood there for a few seconds, looking at the horizon, and then he dived into the water.

  oOo

  Paul swam away from the boat and kept swimming until they could barely see him in the swells. They watched, keeping an eye on him, but they were relieved to have a break from his extremely foul temper. No one had ever seen him so angry before.

  He didn’t get back to the boat until the divers had returned with the empty tank and were on the boat. Paul climbed in.

  “Get us home, Randy.”

  Paul watched Rhees jump slightly as the boat’s engine roared to life. She lay on her back with her arm draped across her face. Everyone thought she was asleep but he knew better. He climbed onto the back of the boat, next to her. He lay on his stomach, propped himself on his elbows, and looked down at her.

  “I thought you were sleeping. Are you all right? Any pain? Itching? Headache?”

  She sniffed and shook her head but didn’t speak or remove her arm.

  “Don’t cry,” he said in a soft request. She didn’t move and he finally leaned over and bumped her shoulder with his own. “So . . . what did you think of your first dive? Didn’t I tell you you’d love it?”

  Her body convulsed with a quick laugh, a bit strained, but a laugh all the same, and he couldn’t believe how relieved it made him feel.

  “Come on. Let’s get you into the boat. I wouldn’t want you getting thrown back into the water . . . not until tomorrow, anyway.”

  She finally moved her arm and glanced up at him to judge his seriousness. His eyebrow cocked, waiting for her response. He laughed when she groaned.

  oOo

  As soon as everyone finished putting the gear away, Paul made an announcement over the speaker. He asked Dobbs to take care of Rhees’ gear and kept her in the office to protect her from being bombarded with questions.

  “I want everyone at the gazebo in five.”

  It took a little longer than five minutes, but everyone finally gathered, jabbering speculatively about what Paul had to say. The news of what happened had already spread so the people who weren’t on the boat were alerted to Paul’s unpleasant mood.

  “I want everyone to go home, now. There’s no point in waiting around for tomorrow’s schedule because there isn’t going to be one.” There was a collective gasp and that only made him angrier.

  “I’m fucking pissed!” he said with great emphasis. “And I don’t think anyone wants to be around me any more than I want to be around you right now. I want you all to read the chapter on buddy checks and be here, on the deck, tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. There’ll be no move dives scheduled until I am sure everyone understands how to do a proper fucking buddy check.” He glared at Shelli when he said it. Shelli glared at Rhees.

  Rhees mouthed, “I’m sorry,” but Shelli extended her middle finger in an obscene gesture before turning her back.

  Paul saw the exchange and it blew him away. Rhees had nothing to be sorry about, but her empathetic nature made her feel bad for all the flack everyone seemed to be giving Shelli over the accident. He shook his head. Unbelievable.

  “If anyone is missing tomorrow, we’ll wait until the next day and the next, until everyone is here, so pass the word. I’m only going to do this once and there will be no dives until it’s done.” No one answered. He finally yelled, “Understand?”

  When he finished, everyone stood around talking about the accident, the lesson, and the cancelled dives.

  “Get the hell off my deck!” he roared and everyone finally scrambled to leave, except Dobbs and Claire, who stood in disbelief. Rhees moved to leave too—slowly. She was exhausted and could barely move. Paul gently took her by the arm and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Not you. Please stay.”

  Her guard went up. She could think of only one reason he would want her to stay. She prepared herself for a lecture about the accident. At least it’ll be in private—one consolation, to know she wouldn’t be publicly humiliated any further, but she was so tired. She didn’t have the stamina to deal with his mood and had to fight the urge to cry again.

  The deck finally cleared except for Paul, Rhees, Claire, and Dobbs. Once they were alone, Claire put her arms around Rhees and held her. It was Rhees’ undoing. She burrowed herself into Claire’s embrace and broke down into full sobs. Dobbs and Paul looked at each other, relieved that Claire was there to handle the emotional outburst.

  “You’d better not be planning to berate this poor girl.” Claire scowled at Paul.

  He looked wounded. “No, it’s not like that between us anymore.” Claire didn’t stop glaring. “Danarya, tell her.”

  Rhees stopped crying to glare at him with fire in her eyes.

  Paul put his hands over his face and exhaled as he rubbed his eyes, sliding his hands to the side of his face, pulling on the skin around his eyes. He pressed on his temples like he had a headache. He grabbed his left shoulder with one hand and his elbow with the other.

  “Are you bent?” Dobbs asked.

  “No.” Paul seemed confused. He sucked in a breath. “I just thought . . . I was protecting her. Think about what would happen to her out there tonight—after my outburst.”

  Claire and Dobbs both agreed in unison.

  oOo

  The four of them spent the entire evening together on the deck. Claire ordered pizza and Paul paid a generous tip to have it delivered, since the restaurant didn’t normally deliver. They sat around one of the tables in the gazebo, eating and drinking the wine Paul had grabbed from his stash at his apartment.

  “So what happened?” Dobbs finally asked, directing the conversation back to a more serious topic. All eyes zeroed in on Rhees.

  “I thought it was just me. Everyone looked so comfortable hanging out on top, but I kept kicking and filling my BC. I looked down at my gauges for . . . just a second, and the next thing I knew, I was under water and falling. It’s like, once I completely submersed, I couldn’t stop.” Shame crept across her expression.

  “I didn’t think to dump my weights. It was one of the first things Paul did when he found me. I should have . . . I just didn’t think of it.”

  “I guarantee you’ll never forget again,” Claire said.

  “I’ll buy you new pockets. You can dive with a weight belt until then.” Paul reached for her hand on the table and squeezed.

  Rhees’ expression caught. She didn’t understand how they didn’t know, how they couldn’t know, but she didn’t intend to dive . . . ever again.

  “You’re not giving up because of this.” Paul leaned down, looked straight in her eyes. He shook his head resolutely, showing her he wouldn’t accept anything less than her accomplishing what she’d come for. “You can’t give up now. I won’t let you, not after everything—I won’t.”

  “Then what happened?” Dobbs jumped in, obviously hoping to spare them all another argument between Paul and Rhees.

  “Um.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember where she left off. “I kicked like crazy, and I made progress, but kicking made me breathe harder, faster. Then my breathing scared me, I knew I’d use up my tank too fast. I knew I needed to rein it in, and I told myself not to panic. I tried to stay calm even though I was sure I was going to die.” Her voice tapered off.

  “That’s what I want to know. How did you survive?” Dobbs asked.

  “I
thought I’d wait on the shelf. I thought they’d notice I was gone, and they’d find me on the shelf. The next thing I knew, the shelf was there but I wasn’t. I just kept falling. I kicked to the wall, but it took forever. I swear, the wall repelled me . . . like the wrong pole of a magnet.”

  “Down current,” Paul said. Claire and Dobbs nodded in agreement.

  “I finally made it, and I grabbed on to the first thing I could. I was so scared, I just hung on for dear life, afraid to let go but I knew I couldn’t stay there. I started climbing with my hands. Every time I let go, I’d sink again. So I climbed, concentrating so hard on keeping a hold. I couldn’t tell if it was doing any good or not. My instincts just told me to keep climbing. The next thing I knew, Paul grabbed me from behind.” She glanced at him and felt a strange energy pass between them. “After the initial shock, I just knew . . . I was going to be all right.”

  “You were deep. I’m surprised your air lasted, with you filling your BCD over and over, the panic, the depth. How did you have any air left?” Dobbs asked.

  “Her tank was empty when I reached her,” Paul chimed in. “I don’t know what she was breathing.” The thoughts that went through his mind when he thought he’d never find her were uncomfortable, so he joked about it.

  “I think God saw her coming and said, ‘Hell no. I don’t want that stubborn girl up here yet. Paul’s an ass, let her bust his balls some more’.” Paul tried to stifle his grin. He didn’t mention the prayer he’d said when he found her alive.

  They all laughed but suddenly fell silent as they thought how differently it could have turned out. The conversation moved on to what Paul, Claire, and Dobbs liked to talk about the most—the shop. Rhees rested her head on her arm across the table. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but it took the other three a while to notice.