Gordy was in fine form. “Tomorrow we’re pranking the mail-boat!” He sounded like it was a done deal.
“Count me out.”
Gordy angled his skis and sprayed him.
Cooper wiped the water from his eyes and shot over the wake. Gordy followed. Cooper leaned and gave Gordy a face full of his own medicine.
Laughing, Gordy cut back, jumped the wake, and landed with a clean splash.
Cooper swung out a little wider. Lunk was driving again. Dad stood beside him, but he faced the back of the boat to work as spotter. He motioned to Cooper to jump the wake.
Cooper nodded, angled for the wake, and pulled hard — just as Gordy changed direction and crossed to meet him.
Cooper tried to veer away, but it all happened too fast. They collided — not so bad for either of them to get hurt, but way too hard for either of them to stay up on their skis.
Cooper hit the water headfirst and went deep. Dark. Black. He couldn’t breathe. Something was there. Evil. Grabbing for him. Cooper kicked. Clawed. Screamed.
Lunk held the wheel steady.
“He’s down,” Mr. MacKinnon said.
Lunk throttled back and spun the wheel to make a U-turn.
“Perfect,” Mr. MacKinnon said. “You learn fast.”
Lunk felt bigger. Stronger. Better about himself. Somehow that simple comment did all of that for him. And he wanted to hear it again.
Gordy bobbed on the surface, his skis floating away in different directions. Coop broke the surface like he’d seen a shark. His arms were swinging; he elbowed Gordy in the face and kept thrashing.
Lunk gripped the wheel.
Mr. MacKinnon sprung into action. “Drop her into neutral and cut the engines.” Without hesitation, he dove over the rail and swam toward Coop.
Lunk killed the motors. The boat drifted closer to his friends. Lunk rushed to the stern.
Coop’s dad was lifting Cooper higher in the water than the lifejacket was already doing. “It’s okay, Cooper. I’ve got you.”
Cooper swung and hit.
What was wrong with him?
His dad didn’t let go. “You’re safe. Dad’s got you.”
One arm around Coop’s chest, Mr. MacKinnon used his free arm to stroke his way to the boat.
Gordy looked scared. Confused. Blood trickled from his nose. He kept his distance from Coop and swam after the drifting skis.
Lunk vaulted over the rail and landed on the swim platform. Cooper wasn’t swinging his arms anymore. He looked limp, like all the fight was gone from him, and let his dad tow him in.
Once they’d pulled him onto the platform, Coop looked dazed. Spent. Scared. It spooked Lunk a little bit.
“Help me get him into the boat,” Mr. MacKinnon said.
“I’m okay,” Coop said. “I got it.” He reached for the rail to pull himself over. His hands were trembling.
What happened to you down there? Lunk wanted to ask — but didn’t dare. He glanced at the water, half expecting to see a shark’s dorsal fin cut the surface.
Coop climbed into the boat, and his dad was right there beside him.
By the time Gordy handed Lunk the skis and joined them at the stern, the color was back in Coop’s cheeks.
“I-I got dizzy. I couldn’t figure up from down. I felt like . . .” Coop’s voice trailed off.
His dad checked Coop’s ears. “Could be a ruptured eardrum from the fall. That would make your equilibrium go berserk. Did you smack hard?”
Cooper shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
His dad frowned. “There’s no blood. If your eardrum ruptured, I’d see a trace.”
“Gordy,” Coop said, “your nose is bleeding.”
Gordy touched it lightly. “Yeah, maybe I ruptured it.”
He didn’t look happy.
Cooper looked confused. “What?”
“You hit me.”
“When I fell?”
He really didn’t know what he’d done. It was like he’d blacked out or something. But it was worse than that, wasn’t it? Instead of being unconscious, he just wasn’t conscious of what he was doing. He’d blanked out.
Coop’s dad took a look at Gordy’s nose. “Doesn’t appear to be broken.”
“When did I hit you?” Coop asked.
Gordy stared at him in disbelief. “It was just like before — except this time you swung your elbows. What are you going to do next — bite me?”
Coop’s dad looked from Cooper to Gordy. “This has happened before?”
Gordy went through the whole story. Lunk listened but could hardly believe what he was hearing. Coop was like a fish in the water. He absolutely loved it.
“It’s like sometimes when Coop goes underwater, he hits a ten on the ol’ panic meter,” Gordy said.
“Sometimes?” Coop’s dad said. “But not every time?”
Gordy shrugged. “When the towrope got caught under the boat, Coop had no problems being underwater. Oh, and I’m sorry about that rope, Uncle Carson.”
Cooper’s dad waved him off. “If your eardrum was ruptured from an earlier fall, you’d feel that disorientation whenever you went underwater. Every time. No exceptions.”
Which meant a ruptured eardrum wasn’t the issue.
“If it’s really light — the water, I mean — and I can see the bottom, then I’m okay,” Coop said.
“But if the water is dark or you can’t see the bottom?” Coop’s dad let the question hang there.
Coop swallowed. “I don’t know. I-I feel like I’m going to die.”
Gordy touched his nose again. “You almost killed me.”
“Sorry, Gordy,” Coop said. “I don’t remember doing it.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
It was a scary thought — that Coop had no idea what he was doing. Lunk looked at his friend and reviewed the water scene in his mind. Panic wasn’t a strong enough word. Terror was more like it.
“Sooo,” Lunk said, “this doesn’t always happen — but it isn’t exactly random either.”
Mr. MacKinnon nodded. “And it never happened before this summer — right?”
Coop nodded.
Mr. MacKinnon looked out over the water. “How’s this for a theory?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “This has something to do with being in that flooded basement last May. You’re okay underwater when you can see, but if it’s dark, it triggers something in your mind. You’re suddenly back in that basement, trying to get out.”
A chill flashed down Lunk’s back and arms. That made total sense.
Cooper seemed to be processing that theory. “Gordy has no problem underwater. Why wouldn’t it affect him the same way?”
“No idea,” Mr. MacKinnon said. “Everybody’s different. But Gordy was fighting hypothermia, and he was only half there mentally.”
Lunk studied his friend. Coop wasn’t denying the possibility that his dad was right.
“So what do we do?” Coop said.
Lunk liked the way he said that. What do we do? They were all in this together. Lunk had always had to work things out for himself. He had his mom, sure. But sometimes he didn’t want to worry her.
Coop’s dad put his arm around his son. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, let’s head back to the mooring. We’ll be meeting the girls for dinner soon.” He fired up the engines and eased them into gear. But it didn’t look like his mind was on dinner at all.
Lunk didn’t have Hiro’s gift for reading people, but he could guess what Coop’s dad was thinking about — how to help his son. What would it be like to have a father who cared like that? He pushed the thought away.
Minutes later, the boat was up to cruising speed. Lunk squinted into the wind. He liked the feel of the wind rushing against him but not moving him.
“It really drags the lake, doesn’t it?” Coop’s dad jerked his thumb toward the stern.
The wake was huge, and the boat appeared to be digging into the lake, ripping it open, d
ragging some of it along. Lunk glanced at Mr. MacKinnon. Coop’s dad seemed to have been ripped open too. That’s the way a real dad was supposed to be. If one of his kids was hurting, a real dad felt his child’s pain.
Coop was standing at the stern rail, holding on and staring into the water. Was he thinking about the basement? Sure he was. It was like an invisible chain was still holding him there.
Lunk wanted to free him. He wished he could. But how?
The Getaway slowed down. Cooper glanced forward. They were still several hundred yards away from the mooring.
“I have an idea.” Dad slid the throttle into neutral and cut the power. “The ordeal in the basement was totally traumatic. So horrifying that every time you get underwater, when it’s too dark to see, it works like a trigger. It shoots you back to the near-death experience in the basement.” He shrugged. “So naturally, you panic. But the good news is that it’s all in your mind.”
Oh, great. So now he was a nutcase. “Dad, I felt something down there. Really. Like something evil was trying to get me. Like it was trying to keep me from reaching the surface.”
Dad tapped his head. “But it was in here. Not in the water.”
That didn’t make Cooper feel any better.
“We’ll retrain your brain.”
Cooper stared at him. “How?”
“He’s going to flood a basement,” Gordy said. “You know, the whole thing about climbing back on the horse or bike — or whatever.”
Cooper shot Gordy a look. “There’s no way he’s doing that.”
Dad climbed over the stern rail and dropped onto the swim platform. “We’ll do it together. C’mon down here.”
Cooper hesitated. Whatever happened to him in the water was too fresh to experience again.
“Cooper.” Dad sat on the edge of the platform, his legs dangling in the water. “I’ll go in with you. We’ll go slow.”
With Gordy and Lunk watching? Was he kidding? He glanced at Gordy. He actually looked a little scared himself. Lunk stood next to him, still wearing his lifejacket. Lunk’s face said something different, but Cooper couldn’t quite read it.
“Do it,” Lunk said. “Your dad is right.”
Cooper climbed over the rail and glanced toward shore. They were way out. The water was too deep. He couldn’t see the bottom. Not out here.
“Okay,” Dad said. “Sit on the platform.”
Cooper did.
Dad slipped into the water. “Okay, nice and easy. C’mon in.”
Cooper glanced west. The sun was nearing the horizon — so the water would be dark. “I don’t know, I — ”
“I’ll be with you, Cooper,” Dad said. “I won’t leave you.”
Cooper didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be in the boat with the others. He looked up. Both Gordy and Lunk were watching from the rail. Gordy swallowed hard.
Lunk looked like he was in awe of what was happening.
Dad held out his hand. “Just slip into the water. You don’t have to put your head under until you’re ready.”
Cooper nodded and dried his sweaty hands on his swim shorts. Which was stupid because his shorts were still wet, and he was going back in the water. He scooted off the edge, careful not to go completely underwater. He held onto the swim platform with one hand and pedaled hard with his legs like he was on his bike. He had to keep his chin above the water. Something was in the deep below him. He felt it. It was just waiting for him to put his head under. Planning to drag him down. He kept his knees high, trying not to let his feet go deep.
“Coop,” Dad said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here.”
Of course he was right. In a perfectly logical world. But fear was not logical. After the horrors of being chained in the black, flooding basement, Coop had had his share of nightmares. But Fudge had always been there. Sometimes in the middle of the night, Cooper curled up on the rug next to her.
Dad gripped his free arm. “Put your face in the water. But keep your ears above so you can hear me, okay?”
Cooper nodded.
“You better back away, Uncle Carson,” Gordy said. “If he starts swinging, he’ll clock you good. Give you a bloody nose.”
“Shut up, Gordy,” Lunk said. “His dad knows what he’s doing.”
The thought of hitting his dad seemed unreal to Cooper. But he’d hit Gordy, hadn’t he? What if he did hit Dad — and knocked him out? Then they’d both need rescuing.
“I’ll be right here. I won’t leave you,” Dad said.
Cooper took several slow, deep breaths and put his face in the water. His heart settled into a rhythm of heavy thumps — like his blood had turned to sludge.
“Your eyes open?” Dad said.
Cooper shook his head.
Dad gripped his arm. “Open them.”
Cooper wanted to. Sort of. But if he looked down into the blurry depths, he would see the blackness. Terrifying blackness.
“They open?”
Cooper lifted his head out of the water. “I can’t do it.”
“Okay,” Dad said. “You’re doing fine.” He looked up at Lunk and Gordy. “Would one of you give us a hand?”
Gordy stepped back from the rail and reached for his nose, as if he thought Cooper would hit him again.
Lunk vaulted over the rail and landed on the platform. “What can I do?”
“Get in with us. One on each side. We’ll go under with him.”
Lunk nodded. He hesitated for just a second, then unbuckled his lifejacket and threw it to Gordy. He glanced at Cooper’s dad and then eased himself into the water. He gripped Cooper’s arm, just above the elbow.
“We’re going to bob once,” Dad said. “Down and up. You just relax. Lunk and I will take you down a foot — and we’ll lift you right back up. We’ll all keep our eyes open.”
“I don’t know, I — ”
“Nothing’s going to happen. We’re with you. Right, Lunk?”
“Absolutely.”
“Down and up,” Dad said. “Ready? On three.”
Relax. Relax. Trust them. Nothing’s going to happen. Cooper took a breath and nodded.
“One . . . two . . . three.”
The three of them went down together. Dad’s face was blurred, but Coop saw him. With a tug on his arms from Lunk and Dad, Coop was on the surface again. He wiped the water from his eyes.
“You okay?” Dad said.
Cooper nodded. “I felt . . . fine.”
“Excellent,” Dad said. “Let’s do it again.”
Cooper took a deep breath. They bobbed again. He opened his eyes and was okay — but he didn’t look down. Twice more they did it. Now Cooper was beginning to feel stupid. This bobbing thing was probably something Dad had done with him when Cooper was two years old.
“Still okay?” Dad searched Cooper’s eyes. He must have found his answer there. “This time don’t look at me. Look down. Lunk and I will still be on either side of you.
Do it. You can do it. You have to do it. Cooper went under again. He opened his eyes — tensed — and looked down. The water faded to black. Nothingness. What was down there? Dad and Lunk still held his arms. He stared into the depths, looking for something to rush up at him from the darkness.
But the panic didn’t come. No pain or dizziness, so the idea of a ruptured eardrum wasn’t likely. That meant only one thing: Dad was right. At least on some level. Cooper’s heart was still thumping, but he felt no straightjacket of fear. They lifted him to the surface, and he wiped his eyes.
“Okay?” Dad looked at him.
“I’m good,” Cooper said. What was going on here? Were the panic attacks just a fluke? Was he over whatever had been bothering him?
No. But obviously he had more control than he had thought. Somehow the fact that he wasn’t alone — that Lunk and Dad were there with a firm grip on him — made all the difference.
Dad looked relieved. “Again?”
Cooper nodded. They went down again. And two more times. With each dive,
Cooper felt more relaxed.
“Okay,” Dad said. “This proves you’re going to beat this thing.” He hoisted himself onto the swim platform.
Cooper and Lunk followed.
Dad stared into the water. “Ready to take it one more step?”
Cooper nodded, hoping he looked more confident than he felt.
“Wait here.” Dad climbed over the transom rail and returned with his scuba tank.
Cooper’s stomach sank. Did Dad expect him to go down there alone?
Dad handed the gear to Lunk and stepped down onto the platform.
Normally the thought of using his dad’s tank would totally fuel Cooper. Now all he felt was a sickening dread. “I don’t know, Dad.” He stared at the water.
Dad looked Cooper in the eyes. “Trust me. We’ll do this together. I won’t leave you.”
Cooper nodded and glanced at Lunk, who gave a single nod back.
Dad opened the chrome valve for an instant, letting off a blast of air. He screwed the regulator in place. Four black hoses split off. Two for the mouthpieces. One for the gauges and compass. One for the missing buoyancy compensator vest.
“Gordy,” Dad said. “Grab me a dock line, would you?”
Dad handed Cooper a mask. “Slip it on. I’ll wear the tank. But we’ll each have our own mouthpiece. We’re going to put our heads underwater. Get used to that for a minute. We’re in twenty feet of water here. Maybe we’ll drop to the bottom. Together.”
Cooper felt himself breathing harder. Faster. But he nodded.
Gordy was back with the rope, and Lunk tied it to the swim platform. Dad swung the tank over his head, adjusted the shoulder straps, and buckled the waist belt. He added the weight belt and handed one to Cooper.
Cooper wrapped the belt around himself. Clamped the buckle. Swallowed hard.
“Uncle Carson,” Gordy said. “Do you think you ought to strap this on?” He held up the dive knife.
Dad shook his head. “We won’t need a knife to protect ourselves. There’s nothing but weeds down there.”
Cooper wasn’t so sure about that. Gordy didn’t look convinced, either.
Dad held up the gauge cluster. “Depth. Compass. Air pressure. It’s a full tank.” He ran through some basics on each and slid his mask in place. “Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he slipped off the platform and into the water.
Below the Surface Page 17
