Perspective (5)

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Fifth Installment

Meredith strode into the cabin with her usual quick, in-charge stride. She carried a large pot containing potatoes, beans, peas, and carrots that she would boil and add cream to, making the local dish called “hodgepodge,” a family favorite. She went straight to the stove, added water, and turned on the burner, not even glancing in her sister’s direction, but knowing Deborah was standing immobile in the bedroom doorway.

She heard Deborah’s unsteady voice start, “I’m sorry…,” and commanded evenly but firmly, “We won’t talk about it now or at dinner. We’ll focus on the meal and being together as a family. We will talk about this later.”  Inside, Meredith was barely holding it together, but outside, she was in charge of the situation—her jaw set, her back straight, her eyes focused. She was intent on containing her anger, but how could Deborah have been so self-absorbed and clueless about the impact of her reckless actions? Meredith’s overwhelming fear of Deborah drowning had immediately transformed into rage the moment she heard her sister was safe.

**********************

Deborah knew better than to fan the flames of Meredith’s anger. She felt both relief and a sense of absurdity when her sister said they would talk later, but she did not argue.

***********************

Trish hugged Jason, asked if he was okay, and received a simple “Sure!” in his big boy voice. She exchanged a cautious glance with Alex, who, without a word, went out to unload more food from the car, while Meredith started the grill. Trish predicted that she and Alex would be up late that night, processing everything in whispers behind the door of their bedroom on the second floor of her in-laws’ house. Alex would need lots of calming before either of them could get any sleep. She could well imagine what he must have gone through in the half hour or so that Deborah was missing.

**********************

Deborah busied herself setting the table as she was instructed. She felt calm and quiet inside. They would all pretend nothing had happened and that everyone felt happy and “normal.”  They would be polite, laugh, make jokes, focus on Jason, and enjoy the hodgepodge, grilled steak, and hamburgers. It was 5 p.m., and a glint of sunshine was peeking through the clouds. Soon her brother-in-law would arrive, his hip-mounted firefighter radio crackling, and they would sit down at the table. Roxy would get up from her nap, and Deborah would be gentle and attentive to her. Everything would, indeed, be normal for this family.

It was two days before Deborah and Meredith talked. In the intervening days, no one from the family dropped in at the cabin to visit. Roxy read and slept, and Deborah took refuge in meditation and solitude. She sank into her sadness and loneliness rather than pushing them away or blaming herself for them. She carefully reflected on her own motivations and tried to understand the others’ feelings and reactions. Her depression gradually lifted. The sadness also eased, and her resentment that no one took care of her after the ordeal receded, as she had known it would as time passed. She felt calm but guarded—buttressed against the anger she expected Meredith to express. Her sister had a temper, and Deborah had been surprised that no explosive outburst had yet occurred. Meredith had some errands in the village, so Deborah offered to drive her to the post office and elsewhere. They bantered in the car as they went. After the post office, Deborah pulled into the United Church parking lot. Meredith was puzzled, “Why are you stopping here?” 

“I wanted to give you the opportunity, since we are alone, to tell me how you felt about my swimming in the storm the other day.”

Meredith took a deep breath. Here it comes! Deborah thought.

to be continued tomorrow

Perspective (4)

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Fourth Installment

Roxy’s eyes registered Deborah’s blue suit and green bathing cap striding through the shallow water toward the pier. She saw the living, moving body, but her brain did not process the reality that Deborah was alive. Crippling sadness and overwhelming loss still gripped her. The rain had plastered her short hair to her head; soaked clothing clung to her shivering body. Her face was expressionless, and her eyes were black and empty. She watched blankly and numbly as Deborah climbed onto the dock and came towards her, making soothing sounds. She could not recognize the words.

*******************

Lifting her goggles and wiping the water from her face, Deborah saw right away that Roxy was in shock. Alex was nowhere to be seen. She walked slowly toward her shivering partner and put her dripping arms around her, murmuring, “It’s all right. I’m fine. Don’t worry; everything will be all right.”  Roxy was like a statue in her arms; rigid and cold. She needed to be warmed as quickly as possible. With an arm around Roxy’s shoulder, Deborah led her across the lawn and into the cabin. Jiffy bounced along behind them, trying to get Deborah’s attention, then, just inside the door, shook himself happily, sending spray flying everywhere. Alex was standing in a puddle holding his phone, and Jason was still playing with his iPad.

“I need to get Roxy dry and warm first, and then we can talk,” Deborah said hesitantly.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Did you call your mom to let her know I am okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to worry you so much, Alex. “

“Why didn’t you come right in when the storm started?”

“By that time, I was far enough away that I couldn’t see the shore through the rain.”

“Well, you just wait until Mom gets here. She is going to be furious with you.”

“I know. I’d better get Roxy dry.”

Deborah led the still-shivering Roxy into the bedroom and began removing her clothing while Jiffy hopped on and off the bed. She toweled her off, found warm, dry sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, and tugged them over Roxy’s limbs, then led her to the bed and covered her with a warm blanket. “You’ll feel better soon, once you warm up,” she soothed.

“I thought you were dead,” Roxy spoke for the first time in a dull monotone. “I thought that was it. Dead.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Deborah apologized, touching her face and kissing her on the lips. A tear rolled down Roxy’s cheek.

Outside, Deborah could hear a vehicle approaching. Through the window, she saw a flashing light, visible against the still-dark sky. Jason woke from his iPad trance as a search-and-rescue truck pulled into the driveway.

Deborah, still in her wet bathing suit, hair askew, and Jiffy at her heels, went out to the porch to see who was on the rescue team. Jason, with his love of fire and rescue trucks, was already there, mesmerized by the flashing lights. Her brother-in-law, Tony, climbed down from the driver’s seat and smiled at her, then ruffled his grandson’s hair.

Again, Deborah started with apologies. “I’m sorry to trouble you and the fire department,” she said. “No worries,” Tony responded, with a slight chuckle as a stranger emerged from the other side of the truck. Deborah explained the drama that had unfolded only half an hour before. “As you can see, I am perfectly all right and not in need of rescuing.”

“That’s a happy ending,” Tony quipped. “We were on another call and couldn’t get here right away, but that one had a happy ending, too. Well, we’d better get this truck back. See you later.”  Deborah waved as they turned off the flashing light and pulled out of the driveway. Jason stood beside her on the porch, also waving goodbye to his grandfather.

Inside again, she found some dry clothes, dressed, and took the wet things – hers and Roxy’s – out to the line to hang. Having done all that she could to ease the effects of her selfish miscalculation, she noticed her depletion. Not just physical but mental. She felt lonely and depressed. Roxy was incapable of offering her any comfort. Alex was silent and angry, again absorbed in his phone, while Jason stared at the iPad. Meredith would return soon. With dread, she anticipated the sound of her sister’s car. She crawled under the spread on the bed next to Roxy, with Jiffy snuggling between them, and, closing her eyes, gave in to her sadness.

No one had expressed relief at her survival. No one had given her any credit for her level-headedness and strength in the ordeal. No one had “taken care” of her in any way once she was onshore, except for that small smile from her brother-in-law. They all seemed absorbed in their own take on what had happened and how it had affected them. She felt profoundly tired and alone. Automatically, she began breathing deeply and slowly. Eventually, she felt sleepy.

But before she drifted off, she heard a car approaching the cabin. It would be Meredith with the family’s supper fixings, and Trisha, Jason’s mother. She lifted her heavy body from the bed, sighed deeply, and, straightening her shoulders, opened the bedroom door.

to be continued tomorrow

Perspective (3)

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Third Installment

Meredith speed-dialed her husband, Tony, a senior firefighter in the local volunteer fire department. He picked up immediately, “What’s up?” 

“You need to get to the lake right away. Deborah went swimming in the storm, and they can’t find her.”

 “Okay, who’s there with her? Where are you?”

 “Alex and Roxy are there, but they can’t swim well enough to look for her. I’m at home.” 

“I’m on another rescue call right now, but I’ll get there as soon as I can,” Tony responded.

“Damn it!” thought Meredith, but Tony hung up before she could argue.

She dialed Alex back, “They are on their way.”  She put down her phone, gave in to her fear, and began to cry.

*******************

Roxy stood like a statue at the end of the dock, frozen, drenched, her mind filled with darkness. Her only thought was, “I’ll never see her again; she’s dead.” Each time these words cycled through her brain, a gushing torrent of sorrow denser than the sheets of rain around her washed through her. Though she remained upright, she was completely unaware of her body.

*********************

Alex paced back and forth on the porch, cell phone in hand, mumbling to himself, “Hurry up, hurry up.”  Minutes were like hours. Jason took out his earbuds and played the cartoon on his iPad’s speaker. Silly, childish tunes filled the cabin.

**********************

Deborah stroked steadily, stopping every minute or so to look around. Sometimes she felt closer to the flag, and at others, she could see she had veered to the left or right. She needed to touch shore on the small stone beach beneath the flag. On either side of that beach, she knew, were trees and large rocks at the shoreline—no place to climb out of the water. She checked her direction and swam forward again. Stopping to look around broke her rhythm and slowed her progress. But gradually, stroke by stroke, she neared the dock with the flag at its tip.

Twenty feet from shore, she gingerly lowered her foot to test the depth, and it sank into the muck on the bottom of the lake. A few more strokes and she touched coarse sand. She pulled her tired body up from the water and waded slowly toward shore, larger rocks on the lake’s bottom bruising her unsteady feet.

Through the rain, she saw, with a sinking heart, a man who was standing in the doorway of the cottage withdraw inside and close the door. A flicker of confusion flared in her mind. She refocused on breathing deeply, slowing her pulse, and relaxing her tense muscles. The downpour had let up enough that she could dimly see her sister’s cabin on the opposite shore. Imagining that Alex and Roxy might be able to see her, especially her bright green bathing cap, she turned and waved both arms in hopes they would see she was okay.

As she rested in the lighter downpour, Deborah considered her options. Why had the man gone inside instead of coming to the shore to help her? Did he not see her? Should she knock on his door? She felt physically exposed in her dripping suit and shy about knocking on a stranger’s door. If the man opened it, would he help, only to later broadcast the incident throughout her sister’s small community?

Her sense of independence and self-reliance asserted itself. This was up to her. She had never been able to rely on anyone else, anyway. When she tried, they’d let her down. So, if she couldn’t seek help from the man, should she try to walk barefoot, on the muddy woods road, out to the highway to flag someone down? Did she have enough energy to swim back across the lake once the storm let up? The answer to the last question was clear. Already, after just a few minutes of rest, she felt alert, renewed, and confident.

For a short while, Deborah stood, resting in the shallow water. From time to time, she waved at the opposite shore but could see no movement there. The thunder and lightning had ended, but the rain had only diminished slightly. She knew the longer she was gone, the more worried they would be. Soon she felt ready to start back. She waded out to the edge of the mucky bottom and lifted her legs, surging forward with strong arms. “Take it slow,” she said to herself, “you can do this.”

Minutes passed, and she frequently stopped to get her bearings, but each time she checked and reoriented, she was nearer home shore. About halfway across, she could see Roxy standing stock still on the pier. A few seconds later, Alex appeared beside her. Deborah shouted and waved. No response from Roxy, but Alex’s angry voice boomed across the waves. “You get in here, right now!”  A flicker of dread rose in her chest. She had been right; they were mad at her. Alex shouted again. Deborah called out that she was coming as fast as she could and strained to pick up her pace. What would she face when she reached shore? She almost wanted to stay in the water, but that was not an option. Soon, she put her feet down on the pebbly bottom of her sister’s beach and dragged her utterly exhausted body out of Concord Lake. The rain had finally stopped.

To be continued tomorrow

Perspective (2)

Posted on by respectful.com

Second Installment

Roxy’s shout penetrated Alex’s absorption with his iPhone. Next, he heard a loud clap of thunder and immediately glanced at his son, who had his earphones in and was listening to a cartoon on his iPad. Jason was terrified of thunderstorms, but could not hear the rain or the noise above the voices and music in the cartoon scene in front of him. He was okay. Roxy’s cry had sounded hysterical, though. Alex slammed his phone down on the coffee table, jumped up, and pulled the baby gate from the door. Jiffy slipped through, dashing toward Roxy and the lakefront.

From the porch, Alex could see Roxy standing on the dock, drenched, staring at the lake. But where was Deborah? A current of fear shot through him. He started to run and reached the dock in a few strides. It was clear from Roxy’s terror and from the storm surrounding them that Deborah was in danger of drowning. He couldn’t see anything beyond a couple of feet. The rain was a dense curtain, the waves churned, the thunder was deafening, and the lightning sizzled. Jiffy ran frantically along the edge of the water, then forward and backward on the dock, barking hysterically.

Alex turned to Roxy and shouted, “Call 911!” He heard the flatness in her voice as she responded that her mobile did not have international service. “Use my phone!” he screamed. “I don’t know how,” she stammered as if in a trance. “Well then, at least get that damn dog back in the cabin!” Roxy noticed Jiffy for the first time. He was pawing at her wet pant legs, trying to get her attention. While he scanned the roiling water in front of him, out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Roxy take hold of the dog’s collar and drag him back to the cabin, closing the glass door on him. He could hear the Jiffy whining pitifully, as Roxy, with blank eyes, joined him on the dock again.

“I’m alone,” Alex thought, “there is no other responsible person here. Roxy is in shock and useless. It’s my job to save Deborah, take care of Jason, Roxy, and Jiffy, too.”  He was terrified and confused. What should he do first? His mother would never forgive him if her sister drowned and he had not tried to save her. What if Jason suddenly heard the thunder and, seeing that his father wasn’t next to him, freaked out? Trisha had left him in charge of their son. She would be furious if anything happened to Jason. Two demands battled within him. Save Deborah, protect his son. Alex could swim, but he wasn’t a trained rescuer. Besides, he could see nothing through the rain. Finding Deborah in this downpour was impossible, and what if he drowned trying? Despite the confusion of his thoughts, he shook off his sandals and strode into the water. Tearing off his T-shirt, he dove in and flailed away from shore.

Thirty seconds in, Alex knew it was hopeless and turned back, dragging himself, soaked, across the lawn and into the cabin. As he opened the door, Jiffy darted through and returned to Roxy’s side on the dock, whimpering and staring out into the storm. Alex retrieved his mobile and automatically dialed his mother’s number instead of 911. She picked up on the first ring. “Call Search and Rescue. Deborah went swimming and is missing,” he gasped. Meredith was silent, but Alex knew she was not falling apart. Her competent, hyper-organized mind would be rehearsing the most practical steps before she flew into action. She would stay calm, call his father, who was a member of the local volunteer fire department, and help would come quickly. But would it be too late? He had done what he could.

The line clicked as Meredith hung up. Alex looked over at Jason, who, addicted to his iPad since he was three, sat placidly in front of it, not even noticing that anything was wrong or that his father was pacing back and forth, dripping water everywhere.

*************************

Deborah stopped swimming and, treading water, peered around her. She couldn’t see a shoreline in any direction. Instead, she saw rain slapping the water on all sides. A lightning spear shot toward the lake, and thunder boomed, vibrating in her ears. She wasn’t afraid. A fleeting thought that water is a superconductor of electricity passed through her mind, but she said to herself, “Oh well, I can’t do anything about that.” 

As she circled in place, looking for a glimpse of a shoreline, any shoreline, Deborah did not feel in danger. The lake was small, and she knew she had become a strong swimmer during her year of training at the community pool. When she began lessons, she had not swum for 40 years. Work and other responsibilities had intervened, and there was no nearby lake or pool. When she and Roxy retired and moved to New Hampshire, their town had a YMCA pool, so she started swimming again. Characteristically, she didn’t do so casually. She set goals, pushed herself, and gained back her strength and technique.

Her stamina had increased dramatically in the last year. She could easily reach some shore, any shore of this small lake, if she could see one. She felt confident in her ability to survive the storm. Her primary concern was those she had left back at the cabin. Roxy would be terrified. Alex might put himself in danger trying to rescue her. She hoped they would stay rational and do nothing foolish. Surviving this was up to her, and it was a challenge she felt she could meet, even welcome. A niggling worry crouched in the corner of her mind. They would be angry with her. They would see her determination to swim in dangerous weather as reckless and would blame her for frightening them.

“But I need to focus!” she thought. So, pushing this worry further back into her consciousness, she circled again, looking for shore. A slight slowing of the rain revealed a Canadian flag in the distance. It was blowing frantically, but the pure red and white maple leaf was a beacon. She knew from previous vacations that there was a dock beneath that flag and that a couple who lived in her sister’s village owned a cottage there. She took a deep breath, relaxed, and started stroking slowly and rhythmically toward the flag. As she did so, she felt the joy of swimming surge within her.

To be continued tomorrow