Page 143 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
Materials: Scuba gear, DARAVOC® underwater speakers, mp3 of whale mother emergency call loop
Experiment: An examination of how beta Homo sapiens can exhibit alpha characteristics when prompted by emotional duress.
We all gather around the captain of the San Fernando, our fishing boat turned research vessel, in various states of undress. We’ve ditched our cold-weather gear in favor of black wetsuits which are being covered up by eighties-style neon dry suits complete with webbed gloves and booties. People are hopping on one leg, struggling half naked, as Jack Frost nips at any exposed skin waiting for our mixed Spanish and English address. I see Jewels out of the corner of my eye struggling to zip up her dry suit. I’ve been diving with my parents for years. I know a thing or two about slipping into spandex, so I rush over to help her out.
That’s what teammates do, right? It’s not like I’m trying to get a view of what may or may not be underneath her suit. Of course I’m not.
“I think this zipper is broken,” Jewels says, turning around to show me her back. It takes me about two seconds to seal her up. “Thanks, Luke.”
“No problem, let me know anytime you need help.” Oh God, that sounded bad, didn’t it? “You know . . . with a zipper.”
Oh boy . . . even worse.
She smiles at me. “I will for sure let you know.”
Was that some kind of invitation given in girl code? Where the hell is Bobby when I need him?
“Um . . . okay, then.”
With the commotion dwindling to a low roar, the grizzled captain finally starts his address. “¡Cállate! Soy el capitan de este barco y cuando estamos en el mar soy, Dios porq—”
“WE DON’T SPEAK SPANISH!” someone yells from the back.
“Oh, right . . . puta, estupido. The wind is muy fuerte today so we are going to be a little frio out there, but as they say, ‘Calm seas never make skillful sailors.’ If you need to vomitar do it in the ocean because we lost la fregona.”
Jewels walks toward me, looking petrified. “What if the boat crashes and sinks?”
“The boat’s made of polyurethane foam. It has positive flotation so even if it got a hole in it, it would still float.” Too much nautical jargon. I’m being a total know-it-all. I need to ease her apprehension.
Her forehead wrinkles. “I don’t really have much experience in the mar.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side.” Come on, that was smooth. I can be macho, right? A grin springs across her face and I know that I said the right thing.
As we all gather up our gear and set out bearing farther and farther eastward, I find myself perfectly at ease. The cold lashes of windy seawater splash up in my face, while my nose is met with that fresh familiar smell of fishy salt. Being on the water reminds me of home, of family and friends, BBQs, fishing, wakeboarding, tubing gladiator battles where no one ever wins. Unfortunately, that warm and fuzzy feeling quickly dissipates when we’re hit by a huge wave of water and a deafening blast of the air horn.
“¡HOMBRE AL AGUA!”
“What does that mean? Man overboard? Who?” I run to the edge of the boat and see someone desperately struggling to entangle themselves from the cord on their lifejacket. It’s Jewels. And she’s panicking. If she doesn’t calm down, she’s gonna drown. My heart pounds, roaring louder in my ears than the wind and the waves.
I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen.
Apparently, I suck at promises.
Without thinking, I jump off the edge of the boat with two other crewmen. The water hits me like a ton of bricks, the ice working its way up my veins. She’s right in front of me, but I know from lifeguard training that if I go right up to her, she’s bound to drown us both, panicking like that.
“Jewels, it’s okay. I’m going to hand you the float, just reach for it.”
“I can’t! The water’s too strong. My head’s about to go under.”
“No, it’s not,” I say firmly. “You’re floating, you have a life jacket on, just grab on to the float.”
She’s not grabbing the float. And my limbs are starting to seize up. Knowing that she’s not thinking straight, I swim right behind her, put my arms under her armpits, and grab on to her shoulders. She’s kicking and flailing uncontrollably.
“I got you, don’t worry, everything is going to be okay,” I say as calmly as I can muster after being pounded with a few flailing fists. I swim backward toward the boat, which is a bit farther off because of the rough water and wind. As they lower a ladder into the water and collect Jewels from my arms, I feel something brush up against my leg.
I rush up the ladder of the boat before I start screaming like a girl. The captain leans over me, laughing.
“Looks like our joven héroe rescued the princess and found the whales!”
