Skinny-Dipping at Monster Lake

by Bill Wallace

  Then another sound came to my ears. It was a siren. Glancing toward the dam, I saw the second ambulance racing across.

  “Emma.” I could barely hear Dad’s voice. “Come on, hon. Wake up.”

  There was no response. Just the scream of the siren, howling in the distance.

  “Emma.” His voice was louder now. Determined and almost angry. “Open your eyes, Emma! Wake up!”

  We’d tried so hard. Everyone. We had worked together. We’d done the very best we could. But what if all we’d done was for nothing?

  What if we were too late?

  25

  Eyes squeezed so tight that it made my head ache, I could hear the words inside my skull:

  “Please let her be all right. Please don’t let her die.”

  I blinked and looked up. I could hear Dad’s voice. I treaded water. Please. And waited. Please help her. And watched. And suddenly Greg straightened up. He looked down at me and smiled.

  With him out of the hole, I could hear Dad talking to Mrs. Baum.

  “No. Don’t try to get up. You’re safe. We’ve got you. Just sit there for a moment. Let us help you.”

  Feet kicking and struggling, Dad backed himself out of the hole.

  “Oxygen,” he whispered.

  Greg leaped from the back of the sub and sprinted to shore. There was a whole lot of movement on the bank that I hadn’t even noticed before. Mr. Aikman had ridden Duke to the gate and was leading the ambulance through the pasture. The guys were off their horses, leading them out of the way while their dads moved the ropes.

  Greg was in the back of the ambulance before it rolled to a complete stop. By the time they turned the siren off and hopped out, he already had the little green oxygen tank and was racing for the lake. The two men followed him, but about halfway to me, one doubled back to get the ladder.

  I swam out of the way and sloshed up to join my friends.

  We all watched as Dad took the oxygen tank and squeezed down into the sub. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure how. The thing looked barely big enough for one person to fit inside, much less two.

  While we waited, a flash of light caught my eye. I glanced to the dead-end road that led to Mrs. Baum’s house. Three more cars drove up and stopped beside where the men had parked. It was hard to see past the floodlights on the generator. But when one of the doors opened, I saw someone with long hair. When she stepped out, I could tell it was a woman wearing a dress.

  “Looks like Samantha’s wedding shower is over,” I told Ted. “Guess our moms are coming to see what’s going on.”

  The men must have noticed, too. They scurried over to where they’d left their clothes and started trying to sort things out and find their trousers.

  By the time we all gathered by the base of the fallen cottonwood tree, it was probably one of the weirdest-looking groups anyone could imagine. There were eight boys in their bathing trunks. Eight women in formal dresses—who still had on their makeup and jewelry. And seven gentlemen wearing dress slacks with no shirts or shoes.

  If some stranger had happened on to the scene, without any idea of what was going on, the poor guy would have probably fainted, just from the sight.

  Mrs. Baum’s head finally appeared from the hatch. Slow and careful, they helped her out. Greg held on to her until Dad climbed out. Then they lowered her to the other two firefighters. They carried her to shore, where Pete and Mr. Bently had the stretcher waiting.

  “I’m fine,” Mrs. Baum protested when they carried the stretcher toward the ambulance. “I’ve just got a little headache, but other than that I’m fine. Let me off this fool thing. I just want to go home and rest. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, but—”

  “Emma!” Dad’s voice was kind yet firm when he caught up with them. “We need to have a doctor check you over. Make sure you’re all right.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You’re going to the hospital. They may even keep you overnight.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll watch the house. Make sure nobody bothers anything.”

  “But—” She tried to sit up.

  Mom came to stand beside Dad when they put her into the back of the ambulance. “Emma. Just calm down and quit your fussing.”

  Greg leaned over and whispered something to Dad. He nodded and whispered to Mom. She smiled.

  “Tell you what, Emma. Why don’t I ride with you to the emergency room,” Mom said. “There’s enough space back here. I’ll just go along for the ride. Make sure they treat you right, while you’re there.”

  The old woman’s eyes kind of lit up. She leaned back on the stretcher and seemed to relax a bit.

  “Still think it’s a bunch of nonsense,” she muttered. “I don’t need to go to see no fool doctor. But if you’re going with me . . . well, I guess . . .”

  Mom climbed in the back and sat down on the bench next to her. One of the other paramedics climbed in next to them. Greg and Dad told Pete to ride in front with the driver. At the open doorway he hesitated.

  “I don’t need no fool doctor to tell me my arm’s broken,” Pete teased.

  Both men glared at him. They looked at each other, smiled, and shoved him into the ambulance.

  “Oh, sit down and shut up,” both said with a chuckle.

  Greg closed the door. “Might call dispatch. See if Captain Miller can send a wrecker or two to get the truck out that you messed up.”

  “I messed up?” Pete yelped. “Hey, that wasn’t my fault.”

  Greg shrugged. “You were driving.”

  Pete kind of sneered at him and gave a quick gesture with his good hand. Then he leaned to the side so he could see around Greg and Dad.

  “Hey, where’s Kent?” he asked.

  “I’m right here, Pete,” I called.

  He waved me over. I trotted over to them. Pete reached out with his good arm and ruffled my hair.

  “Good job, kid. If you hadn’t come up with the idea of using the horses, we might not have gotten her out of there in time.”

  “Thanks, Pete.”

  As they drove slowly up the hill, so as not to jostle Mrs. Baum too much, Dad, Greg, and I walked back to join the rest of our group. Before we reached the others, Dad stepped in front of me. He turned to face me and stuck out his hand. Not quite knowing what to do, I put my hand out, too. Dad shook it.

  “I’m proud of you, Kent,” he said softly. “I know that was your first night dive. It’s pretty scary for most people. But you acted like an old pro. You did a good job, son.”

  I don’t know what made me prouder—what Dad said, or the way he shook my hand and smiled at me.

  Greg looked down his nose at me. He arched an eyebrow and shook his head.

  “Hey, punk. Don’t expect me to go braggin’ about how brave you were. You didn’t do nothing more than what I expected from you, all along. Ain’t no big deal.”

  He stood there and glared at me a second. Then a smile curled the corners of his mouth. All of a sudden those big arms of his wrapped around me. He gave me such a hug, I thought he was going to squeeze the air clean out of me.

  All three of us—side by side—strolled up to join the others.

  Everyone stood around and visited for a time. We took turns explaining to the moms all that had happened. Told them about Jordan hearing the SOS, and how we located the sub. Then there were theories and guesses about where and how Mrs. Baum got the submarine and why she was out in the lake in the thing . . . and so much noise . . . well, all I could think about was how quiet and peaceful it was when I was underwater with Dad.

  After a time we got the rest of the flashlights from our fishing camp and showed the moms the boathouse and the trench that led to the lake. Then everyone wanted to inspect the submarine. Dad handed Ted one of the big underwater lights. The women, dressed in high heels and fancy dresses, decided not to go sloshing out into the lake. They headed back to the cars and went home. Our dads stayed with us. Once the women left, the men strip
ped down to their underwear. Ted and his dad went first. They circled the submarine, then took turns climbing through the hatch to check out the insides. Everyone else sort of paired off and waited his turn. It was almost time for Jordan and me to go look it over when the wrecker showed up.

  The dads were worse than us kids when it came to watching the wrecker. Not even bothering to put their slacks on, they trotted up the hill. The guy in the wrecker said he was afraid to drag the truck out because it might bend the driveshaft. Then he aimed his flashlight down into the trench and looked underneath the EMS truck.

  “Already bent,” he announced. “Might as well drag ’er out of there.”

  Only his truck wasn’t strong enough, so he had to call for a second wrecker to come and help. By the time they were done, it was almost light enough to see without the generator. There had been so much going on, I didn’t even feel like I’d been up all night. I wasn’t the least bit sleepy or tired.

  Now that all the excitement was over, the men helped us break camp and load our things to take home. We’d try the all-night fishing trip another time. Mr. Aikman told Ted and me to go check the bank poles.

  “Not right to leave fish dangling on a hook,” he said. “Any worth keeping, we’ll clean. Otherwise, make sure all the bait is off and the hooks are tied so they won’t snag anything.”

  When we got back, most everybody had gone. Greg, Dad, and Mr. Aikman were still there, gathering up our ropes.

  “We’ll put these back in the garage,” Dad said. “Then we’ll have Greg drive us home. Soon as I take a shower, we’ll go check on your mom and Mrs. Baum. Kent, you want to grab that last rope over there?”

  Beside the dirt-covered ball of roots at the base of the big cottonwood, I picked up the rope and started wrapping it around my arm.

  A little orange sliver of the morning sun peeked above the oak trees on the back side of Mrs. Baum’s house. If I hadn’t been standing right there at that very instant—if I hadn’t bent over to pick up the rope, just when I did—I would have never seen it.

  A bright flash. Less than an inch around. It glistened and sparkled at me from the dirt. Hit me smack in the eye.

  26

  Dad and I both took showers. He had me go first so he could shave. When we finished and dressed, we dropped Greg off at the fire department. Then Dad and I drove to the hospital to check on Mom and Mrs. Baum.

  We could hear Mrs. Baum’s fussing before we even opened the door to her room. “Isn’t this just like a hospital. Doctor finally says it’s okay to go home, then you sit around and wait for three hours. Takes them forever to get the paperwork done. If I had any sense, I’d just up and march out of this place and let them hunt for me. I’d just . . .”

  Dad shoved the door open and walked in. Mrs. Baum sat in a wheelchair beside the hospital bed. Mom was in a straight-back chair beside her.

  “Hi, Emma,” Dad greeted. “How you feeling?”

  “Oh”—she smiled—“I’m fine. Told that fool doctor there wasn’t nothing wrong with me. Young whippersnapper still made me sit here for three hours. Said he wanted to watch me.” She shook her head. “Don’t know what he was watching. All I was doing was sittin’ here, waitin’ to go home.”

  Mom smiled and shot Dad a quick wink. Mrs. Baum kind of leaned to the side so she could see who was following Dad into her room. When she spotted me, a smile lit up her wrinkled old face.

  “Hello, Kent. Your mom says you and Jordan were the ones who found me. Saved my life. I almost made it back to the dock, when whack. That old tree pounced on me and pinned me to the bottom. I surely do appreciate you and those other boys. I’d still be sittin’ in that submersible if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “Talking about the sub . . .” Dad sat on the edge of the bed. “Where in the world did that thing come from? And why were you in it? And . . .”

  • • •

  It was at least another hour before the nurses came and finally told Mrs. Baum she could go home. After an hour of talking and answering questions—that, plus the drive home—I learned a whole bunch about Mrs. Baum and the submarine and mining.

  Mr. Baum was a miner. I remembered her telling us that, the day Mom made me go with her for a visit. But I always figured he was a coal miner. Only Mr. Baum wasn’t really a miner. He was what they called a troubleshooter—a guy who solved problems they had with mine-shaft construction, poisonous gas, or flooding. He must have been good at it, too, because he worked for a number of big mining companies all the way from California and Nevada to Alaska. They weren’t coal mines, either. They were gold mines.

  About a year before he was to retire, one of the big mines in British Columbia, Canada, started flooding. The geologists decided it was from a nearby lake and called Mr. Baum in.

  The mining company bought the submarine from the Canadian government. They got it for practically nothing. That’s because it was an experimental two-man sub. Trouble was, with two people in it, a gas-operated engine, and oxygen to breathe, they could only carry enough gasoline to stay down for about fifteen minutes. They were getting ready to turn the thing into scrap and start over again when the mining company bought it.

  Mr. Baum took out the gas tank and motor and replaced it with a smaller electric engine. The marine batteries could go for twelve to twenty-two hours without being recharged. Making it a one-man sub instead of two, left room for enough compressed air to stay down for eight hours or more.

  After Mr. Baum found where the mine shaft was leaking and showed them how to repair it, he asked if he could have the sub.

  • • •

  “But why?” Mom asked as we drove across the dam. Mrs. Baum rode shotgun, next to Dad in the front seat. She turned a bit so she could see Mom and smiled.

  “As soon as we get to the house, I’ll show you.”

  Even from behind her, I could see her stiffen when we turned off the road and into our driveway, instead of taking her straight home.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “Kent found something you might like to have,” Dad said. “He’ll hurry.”

  I leaped out of the car, and Dad tossed me the keys. Once inside, I turned off the alarm, grabbed my backpack, and raced to the car.

  “What’s in the pack?” Mrs. Baum asked.

  “I want to see what you’re going to show us, first,” I said.

  We heard the table saw as soon as Dad pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. Mrs. Baum hopped out and toddled around to the front of her house to see what was going on. We followed her.

  Ted and his dad were just putting the finishing touches on the door frame. The new door leaned against the wall.

  “Rowdy, what are you doing?”

  Mr. Aikman explained about busting the door open the night before, when she didn’t answer. He said that since he was the one who broke it, he thought he should replace it. Mrs. Baum told him the thing was old and about halfway rotted, anyway, and that she intended to pay for the door and his time.

  I guess they would have argued, back and forth, for the rest of the day if I hadn’t stepped between them.

  “Mrs. Baum?” I said politely. “Wasn’t there something you were going to show us?”

  She blinked. “Oh, yeah. Come on in the house.”

  “Can Ted come, too?”

  She shrugged. “Might as well. I promised my husband, Jeb, that I would keep it a secret. After last night everyone’s seen the submarine. Ain’t a secret if the whole country knows about it. Come on.”

  We all followed her through the house and into her kitchen. Mrs. Baum opened the freezer and dug around inside. “Sorry I don’t have any pie or cake to offer,” she said over her shoulder. “If you boys will drop by this afternoon or tomorrow, I’ll have some chocolate chip cookies baked up for you. Y’all take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  We sat in the chairs around the kitchen table. Mrs. Baum set a tin container full of flour on the counter.

  “She going to fix the
cookies now?” I whispered.

  Ted shrugged. Mom shushed me.

  Mrs. Baum dug deeper into the freezer and pulled out another tin. Then she got a bowl from the shelf and carefully dumped that container into it. It didn’t sound like flour when it hit the metal bowl. I could hear it clink and clunk. Then she started digging through it with her hand, pulling something out of the flour.

  “My father found these, down in the Bottom, just about the time they were finishing construction on the lake dam. Family farm was six hundred and forty acres. Went from the eighty up behind the house, down across the valley, and halfway up the Point. County bought the front part of the place for the lake. Dad had more or less retired from dairy farming and didn’t need the land. But the farm had been in the family since his grandfather homesteaded the place.

  “Guess Dad was taking one more look at that part of the old farm before the lake covered it up. That’s when he stumbled on to this.”

  She turned on the faucet and started rinsing whatever it was she’d dug out of the flour. When she was done, Mrs. Baum turned around and handed each one of us a piece of shiny rock.

  The one she gave me was about the size of Dad’s thumb. Mom held one that filled her whole hand. I looked at mine. Twisted it between my fingers. It was bright and sparkly, like light bouncing off ripples on the lake.

  Mr. Aikman gasped. “Silver.”

  “Your dad found a silver mine?” Mom asked.

  Mrs. Baum shook her head. “That’s what Dad thought. He put a little piece of it in a box and mailed it to us while we were in Alaska. Jeb knew what it was right off, but he took it in to have the assayer make sure.

  “It’s platinum. High-grade platinum, at that. What you’re looking at isn’t even ore. Those are pure platinum nuggets that my father found.”

  The grown-ups gasped. I looked at my chunk again. It was pretty, all right. But I still didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I leaned over toward Mom.