The water’s green-brown color doesn’t look as menacing as I sit against the side of the tree facing the lake. I don’t know how long it would take Kai to check those sunken ships, but I start to worry because, by my estimate, he has been underwater for five minutes straight. Silently I try to calculate how long the average person can hold their breath underwater and none of the numbers I remember are good. I tell myself to wait one more minute and if he does not show up by then, I am going in.
Just being this close to water makes me want to run, but I can’t leave him. Rusty nails and wooden planks warped dark gray by water makes the dock creak and sway as I walk to its end and look over the edge. The lake’s gentle waves show no sign of disturbance and the murkiness of the water prevents me from seeing much under the surface. For a moment I can sense the walls of the aquarium, but the bright light from the suns jars the memory away.
“Come on,” I say out loud, as if by the sound of my voice he would hear and rise to the surface.
Then, because I cannot stand the silence, I dive into the water. It difficult to see very far, but my body responds immediately to being in the water again and I strike out diving deeper. I swim in a circle to get a hold of my surroundings. The water is thicker, heavier than the water I am used to swimming in. It is only after being underwater for a few strokes that I realize I don’t feel claustrophobic yet. My heart beats faster than normal, but I can think rationally and plan.
There are no wreckages under the dock. Kai did mention sunken ships so I change to a zigzag motion away from the dock. I see a rotting rowboat and swim beyond it hoping other wreckages will follow, however, after staring at nothing but rocks and mud for a full minute I turn back. My arms whip past my head as I make up for time lost. I try to calculate how much time has passed by now and I figure at least ten minutes. Unless I missed him, or we crossed paths with him on his way up and me on my way down, I’m afraid I will find him dead.
The ground takes a sharp drop down and I follow it. Then in the distance I see a shadow. The shadow separates into three smaller boats and one larger shadow hardening into a ship as I swim closer. This has to be what Kai was talking about. I swim faster and circle the first boat, then the second. I am about to swim on to the third when I see something white on the lake floor. It is lying in a rocky section of ground between the boats and the ship and looks like a pile of debris. I dive for a closer look.
The white thing moves with the water in slow motion and it take me a moment to realize what it is: an arm. I can make out the fingers. My heart thuds and I taste fear. I want to look away, but I force myself to swim closer. He might not be dead, I keep telling myself. Then I see his face and any hope I might have had about the arm belonging to someone else vanishes. Kai’s eyes are closed and so is his mouth, which I take to be a good sign. It looks like he wrapped himself in a net and I quickly grab an end and pull. The net catches on a box by Kai’s feet and won’t budge. I swim over to the box and grab at the edges. I can feel splinters stabbing into my palms but I manage to pull it loose. In one swift movement I yank the net free and wrap my arms around Kai’s chest towing him toward the surface. I see the light as the water thins and kick harder. We break the surface and I hold Kai’s head above the water.
I dig my fist into his ribs with each stroke hoping to knock out any water he may have swallowed. I hear water splash, but Kai hangs from my arms like a doll and the sound I hear is from my own kicking. Even though I am not used to swimming while pulling someone else, I am used to swimming with extra weight and my muscles are more than ready for the challenge. I kick in short, quick bursts of speed and soon feel the rocks of the shore scrapping on my back. I drag Kai high enough on the shore so his face is not in the water and then I press on Kai’s chest. Almost immediately to my relief, a fountain of water bubbles out of his mouth and down the side of his face. Then Kai coughs and more water spurts out. I sit back waiting.
“What happened?” he asks when he stops coughing. His dark hair is matted around his face making him appear younger.
“You were tangled in a net and nearly drowned. I found you and pulled you out,” I say. I lean back as he struggles to sit up.
He looks out at the lake, his dark eyebrows pulled together in a perplexed frown. Then he shakes his head, whether to remove the water from his ears or to clear the fog that descends upon an oxygen-deprived brain, I can’t tell.
“Why’d you do that?” He flicks bits of gravel and small stones from his pant leg and is too intent on where they land to look at me.
“I was worried when you didn’t come back.”
“But why?” He coughs again and spits at a ripple of water rolling around the rocks by our feet.
“I--I wanted to make certain you were safe.” I squeeze water out of my hair and brush the stray strands out of my face.
“I didn’t ask you to....” Kai says, but his voice becomes so quiet I’m not certain I heard everything.
“What?”
“I didn’t ask you to worry.” Kai picks up a stone and throws it, hard, at the water. The frown on his face comes out in his tone. “I don’t need someone to worry about me, to--to rescue me.” He spits the word out like it is poison. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” I say. I have seen how capable he is and how much he knows about city life. He even carries himself in a way that is confident and in control.
“I don’t need help,” he says, but his words aren’t as sharp as they were. He stands with a slow, measured pace, as if he wants to make sure the act is possible.
I refrain from reaching out when he leans too far and almost falls, but he straightens in time and walks in a firm line back into the lake.
“Where are you going?” I can’t keep the alarm out of my voice.
“I need to wash off.” He throws the words over his shoulder. Then he waves for me to join him. I watch him until he is waist deep and almost gasp when his disappears under the water. My heart pounds as I wait for him to surface. Silently, I give him two seconds before I wade out into the lake. Once the water is at my waist I can see him crouching under the water his face is pointed up at me and he is smiling. He raises an eyebrow, taunting me to join him.
“Fine,” I say and taking a deep breath, I sit next to him under the water.
My lungs stretch with air and settle into conservation mode. At the Compound we are taught to hold our breath without the aid of breathing oxygen until we reached the 17.4 minute mark. Since the air inside the Compound does have a higher concentration of oxygen than the natural air, and because of our genetic makeup and the shots the scientist give us, reaching the 17.4 minutes can be done by most candidates in their tenth year after several months of training. Then we were given masks of pure oxygen to breathe an hour before training. The extra oxygen packs inside the lungs and can increase the length we can spend underwater before we need air again.
I look at Kai through the water and raise my own eyebrow with a smile. Even though I have not had a dose of oxygen in two days, I know I can do twenty minutes without breaking a sweat. If he wants a race, he doesn’t know what he is getting into. After all, I was picked because I am the best.
I sit down and place a rock in my lap. Kai raises his eyebrows and does the same. The minutes tick by, five...ten...thirteen. I have to admit I am impressed by how long Kai has stayed under. His face turns red and he closes his eyes. His hair floats around his face with the incoming current. Then his eyes flash open and he takes one look at me before he stands, his rock tumbling to the floor. I hear him gasping for breath and I wait another seven minutes or so before I stand. I can’t help laughing at the surprise in his eyes.
“How did you do that?” Kai asks.
I raise my shoulders and say, “I spend most of my day underwater.”
“I’ve never known anyone else who could hold their breath as long as I can,” he says and he looks down at the place where I sat.
“Now you do,” I say. I wonder if I may have shown off too much, but seeing the appreciation in his gaze makes it worthwhile. It feels good to be underwater again. I never considered that I might miss it. I even find myself itching to swim and I ask, “Would you want to have a swimming race?”
“Sure,” Kai says, jerking his head up, his eyes interested. “Where to?”
I scan the water looking for a spot to aim for. “How about that blue float-thing?”
“The far buoy?” Kai asks and I see the corners of his mouth frown for a moment then the smile returns and he says, “Okay.”
“You call it,” I say.
“Ready?” Kai says and I hear the laughter in his voice, but he doesn’t say “Go.”
Instead he dives into the water without a warning. He’s over ten feet ahead before I dive after him. It is not long before I feel myself moving ahead so I pull my arms through the water at a slower pace. Even going slower I advance faster than I want, but Kai does not give up or slow his pace and before I realize it he passes me. I start swimming harder and I pull level to Kai’s feet. Kai feels me coming and swims harder. What I thought would be a way for me to let off some steam and use my muscles, now becomes a serious race. I kick harder and push all my muscles to the limit and pull even with him.
Kai’s hand touches the buoy several seconds after my own and his chest creates ripples as he exhales.
“Good job,” I say.
Kai is breathing air like he eats food. It’s barely in his lungs before he is adding more. I give him a minute to rest and to let my muscles relax. All the added oxygen I have been exposed to makes it easier for me to swim long distances and to swim fast spurts without becoming winded. I can tell a difference though between how I feel today and how I felt after my last swim at the Compound. Breathing the normal air makes me tire sooner. When Kai lets go of the buoy I smile and say, “I’ll race you back.”
“You’ll win again,” he says. “But I’ll give it the best I’ve got.”
“We can wait longer, if you need to rest,” I say.
“No, we can go soon,” he says and he lets his head sink under the waves. At first I think he is only trying to wet his hair back so it won’t get in his eyes, but then I see his gray shirt shoot off toward the shore with his legs kicking as hard as they can. I wonder if I am some kind of idiot to be fooled by him again. Is there a rule or understanding that everyone else knows and lives by? Am I being stupid to trust that what a person says is what he will do?
I take off hard and my muscles are starting to respond to the strain. I ignore them and push even harder. Kai is definitely swimming slower than he did before and by the halfway mark I am almost even with him. No pity, I tell myself and I pull ahead. I reach the shore a full minute before Kai and my legs and arms are tired. Kai doesn’t come out of the water, but rests in the shallows. Being out of the water I can smell pieces of algae still clinging to my clothes and the suns make my hair dry in clumps. I try to comb through my hair with my fingers, but they get caught in knots.
“Would you want to go back to the hotel and get our clothes dried?” I ask after wringing my shirt for the fifth time.
“You’re the boss,” Kai says and he stands and walks over to our stuff by the tree.
The water dripping into my shoes bubbles over the side and creates mini puddles with each step I take. Kai turns down first one street and then another. We receive several stares from the people, including one slightly disapproving middle-aged woman who shakes her head, but they are not staring at me only. Our wet clothing and hair is what makes us stand out and it makes me feel like a normal person. Perhaps for the first time in my life.