Edward leads us down to the resort dock and right to the end of the pier. The lake is flat and gray, a reflection of the clouds above. On the other side of the lake, some of the trees still have red and orange leaves on them, forming a bloody slash on the horizon. Small waves ripple across the surface of the lake as a cold wind blows across it. I’ve avoided coming down here all summer. Being close to the lake makes me nervous and tense, even though I know it’s not the same as the river in my dream.
“There,” says Edward, pointing at the raft. It’s a wooden platform, floating about a hundred and fifty feet offshore. “Swim out to the raft and untie it. I’ll bring the boat around, and we will pull it to shore.” Josh looks at the dark water. He doesn’t say anything.
“Why not just drive out together?” I say, and I point to the hotel boat, a little inflatable rubbing gently against the pier. “The water’s pretty cold.”
Edward spins to face me.
“Did I ask for your opinion? I said that I wanted proof. That Josh is willing to work hard. He needs to learn to do what it takes,” he says. “Perhaps you would care to join him in the water?” I look away from Edward and out across the lake. My stomach clenches. I shake my head.
“It’s okay, Dylan. I’ll go get my swimsuit,” says Josh. He starts to walk back toward the Swamp, but Edward puts a hand on his chest.
“No time. You heard Harvey. We have a great deal to do,” says Edward.
“In my clothes?” Josh looks to me, then back to Edward. He looks scared, confused. We both know that Edward has a reputation for being mean. For humiliating staff like this. But nobody objects because they don’t want to lose their job. Same with me. I don’t want to make myself a target. So I shut up.
“Quickly,” repeats Edward, his voice a little louder. “Now, Josh. Do as I say.”
Josh flinches, then pulls off his sweatshirt. He carefully takes off his glasses and puts them on top of the sweatshirt. Then he kicks off his shoes and, leaving his jeans on, clumsily leaps into the water. I hear him gasp as the cold water closes around him. For a moment, he hangs on to the side of the dock. He looks at me, blinking nearsightedly. I think about just reaching down and pulling him back up. Ending this. But then he starts to swim out to the raft.
A minute later, I can tell he’s in trouble. He’s obviously not a strong swimmer to begin with. The weight of his jeans, the temperature of the water—they’re both dragging him down. He’s maybe a third of the way to the raft when he goes under.
I wait for him to come back up. He’ll come back up. Josh said he could do this. He wouldn’t get in the water if he didn’t think he could do this. My heart is slamming in my chest. Josh’s dark hair rises up and breaks the surface of the water. I can see him gasping, thrashing. He turns to look back at the dock. At us.
And I swear, for a moment, I see Sammy in the water. Not Josh.
I blink and he’s gone again. There are only waves where he was a second ago.
I can’t let this happen again. But I can’t move my feet. I’m frozen in place, unsure. Terrified of getting in that cold, dark water.
I turn to Edward, shouting, “Go get him! Get the boat! Don’t you see? He’s in trouble!”
“In a moment,” says Edward quietly, staring steadily out at the lake. “This is a test of character.” I realize that he’s enjoying this. He’s got a weird look in his eyes, like he’s hungry. Like he can’t wait to see what happens. And I suddenly know that Edward wants to see Josh hurt. I don’t get why—I don’t get what sick game he’s playing. But if I don’t make a move, Josh might not make it.
It’s up to me.