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The next day at school, Skye struggled to focus. Her broken nights were taking their toll. She could happily have used her desk as a pillow if she didn’t mind risking another nightmare and undoubtedly a detention.
That afternoon might be an improvement, though. Not usually a fan of P.E., today they would travel by bus to the Olympic Pools in the city for kayak safety training. With the likelihood of a camping trip involving a river and kayaks the following year, the entire class would learn how to fall out of a kayak and save themselves. Thanks to Uncle Mike, she already had this down, having learned when she was seven, not long before...
She pulled her thoughts away from that summer, and how it ended, her shattered family going their shattered separate ways. Instead, she focused on recalling what Mike had taught her, hoping it would be like riding a bike, coming back to her on the water. On the water... It was a swimming pool, not the sea. It would be fine.
By the time the bus pulled into the swimming pool parking lot, her stomach was fighting hyperactive butterflies. Brent was on a different bus, but the girls who had been friendly in art class had included her in their group. No one had kayaked before, and Amy was terrified of the lesson. Skye’s nerves kicked into high gear as she changed into her swimsuit and headed out into the indoor complex of swimming pools.
Her class gathered at the tiled edge of the pool. Skye expected to hear the distant roaring of waves in her head, and the sky to darken, and the sound of her blood pounding in her ears. All she heard was echoing splashes of water, and squeals and shouting laughter of her classmates. Slipping into the warm water, she sank below the surface, turning and spinning for pleasure. She loved to swim. On her next turn, she almost collided with someone and surfaced. Brent, minus his glasses, smiled at her.
“Hey.”
“Hi Brent.” She rubbed the water out of her eyes, feeling self-conscious.
“Did you have a good time yesterday? At the exhibition,” he clarified when she looked at him blankly.
“Yeah, it was great. Amazing work.”
“I’m glad you came with me.”
“Me too.”
“So, um... We have to pair up. Wanna...pair up?”
She looked around and realised that everyone else had formed into pairs. Once again she’d missed a step, lost in her own world.
“Everyone has a partner?” the instructor called.
“Yes,” she chorused, and grinned sheepishly at Brent. He beamed. He looked boyish, younger without his glasses, and his enthusiasm at partnering with her for the exercise made her feel a little awkward. Guilty perhaps? Because she didn’t feel...what? Her thoughts darted away from confused emotions and she concentrated on instructions.
“How many of you have kayaked before? You’ll need to swap partners if one of you hasn’t kayaked before. Show of hands, please.”
Brent glanced at her as she raised her hand, raising his too.
“Everyone who raised hands, go to those kayaks.” She pointed. “The rest of you stay put, and Mr Quentin will work with you here .”
The twenty students who raised their hands crossed the pool to receive life jackets and instructions.
Skye went first, belting on a life jacket and climbing carefully into her kayak, too focused on not overbalancing before she was supposed to, to feel self-conscious with Brent’s silent help. The whole cavernous room echoed with a volume of ten times the actual participants, and concentrating on the immediate precarious task was challenging enough.
Skye had loved kayaking, and with her experience doing this same exercise with Uncle Mike when she was little, she launched fearlessly forward, hearing Brent’s shouted encouragement over the clamour. There was a lot of laughter from everyone, including her. Paddlers trying to stop at the marked point seemed to have no control. One overly energetic boy capsized. They all watched as his hands slapped the bottom of his kayak, and she held her breath, willing him to make it, and cheered with everyone else when his smiling red face emerged above the surface.
Now it was her turn. For a moment she hesitated, anticipating the strangling fear that being submerged in the ocean roused. Nothing. Just her and a kayak in a pool of chlorinated water. She took a deep breath and rolled.
Through the entire fleeting operation – blowing air out of her nose, squinting through the bubbles, keeping calm about which way she was pointed – part of her mind watched for black waves, listened for the rolling of breakers. But, still nothing. Just the dully muffled sounds of movement and her own steady heartbeat thrown back to her in her gurgling eardrums. And then she was free of the kayak, her head above water, blowing out a spluttering breath and smiling at Brent’s hearty congratulations.
It took longer to get the kayak ready for Brent than the whole exercise had taken. Throughout, he looked increasingly nervous. And when he stepped from the side of the pool into the kayak for his turn, the vessel wobbled dangerously beneath his shaky feet.
“Are you all right?” she asked once he had awkwardly got his knees low enough to straighten his legs.
His reply was a tense nod, and she could see by his white knuckles how tightly he was gripping the paddle. He turned the kayak without a problem and she swam out to wait for him, reasonably confident he’d be okay. But when he reached the ‘capsize’ mark, his expression was one of dread.
She remembered how scared she’d been the first time she’d done this. Only her trust in Mike and her confident swimming had made her attempt it that first nerve-wracking time. She put her hand on the kayak.
“You’ll be fine. Wanna go over the steps again?”
“No, I got it.” His voice sounded croaky with tension.
“I’ll be under the water with you,” she reassured. “I’ll keep my eyes open and help if you need it. Okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He sounded relieved, and managed a small smile, although his eyes were still a little wild. Holding her gaze, he took a deep breath and rolled, the whites of his eyes visible around his pupils. She ducked below the surface and put her hand on his shoulder for moral support as he groped for the edges of the kayak opening and pushed himself free.
He wasn’t a big guy, but his longer legs made it more of an ordeal to get out. But in seconds, he was gasping for air above the surface and rubbing his face with trembling hands.
“Good job,” she assured him. They returned to the side of the pool in silence. They had to do it twice, and his second time wasn’t any easier. He took in some water, coughing and choking, when he surfaced. When they emptied the kayak for the last time, handing it over to a waiting pair, he was shivering despite the tepid water and humid air.
They retrieved their towels. As he wrapped his around his waist, he shook his head solemnly. “Never again. Nope. Never again. Ocean or pool, water anywhere, I’m out.”
She couldn’t help grinning at his tragic tone and he broke into a reluctant smile before sheepishly chuckling.
“You were fearless.” He sounded awed, and she smiled, sort of proud of herself. “How do you get that confidence?”
“Unfair advantage,” she admitted. “My uncle taught me how to fall out before he even taught me to paddle.”
“That’s right. You come from somewhere by the sea. Unfair advantage, all right.” He paused. “You don’t want to go back?”
“I do. No. It’s complicated.” She felt suddenly overwhelmed by her history. No way could she share it.
After a pause he said, “Fair enough. I’m what you’d call painfully uncomplicated. I just stink on the water full stop. Probably shouldn’t have put my hand up.” he added.
“Then why did you?”
He didn’t answer, concentrating on shaking his hair dry and hunting for his glasses amongst his things. The girls from her art class joined them. It was a welcome reprieve; she had no clue how to respond to his silence.
Brent was on a different bus again on the return trip to school, and Skye’s bus pulled away first. When she reached the school and alighted, she walked swiftly away, waving goodbye to the voices that followed her off the bus. The second bus pulled to a stop, its doors opening with a hiss as she went. She hoped she would be too far to hear any other voice call after her.
