All around me girls dove hands
first, head second, followed lastly by the feet, all creating a smooth, arching
slice through the air and into the dark water. Their feet took them up and off
the dock, propelling them into the coolness beneath us. Sunshine walked across
the dimpled surface that their heads broke through when they finally came up
for air. Each time someone dove, from the moment they bent their legs and
thrust themselves deep into the lake, until the moment they surfaced with a
gasp and a shake of their hair, I held my breath in anxiety.
The water didn't scare me. I had
slid from my sitting position on the dock many times, first slipping a toe in
and then pushing myself carefully off the wood and lowering my torso into the
water. There were salamanders in the water, and sticks that sometimes cut my
feet. I spent hours moving through the shallows, playing in the canoes, and
floating slowly across the surface, dipping my ears just below the waterline to
block out the noise. The water didn't scare me.
When I was five years old, or
somewhere around that age, I stepped off the edge of a pool, jumping in
eagerly, without reservation. Five feet of chlorine and water closed over my
head, four feet of water below. And I just kept sinking. My little thighs
worked with all their might, picking me back up towards the surface until I
frantically came through and opened my mouth. My lungs filled to their breaking
point with the air around me, causing coughs and sputters and general movements
of relief.
At some point in my childhood I
read a scary story—the kind your parents don’t let you read but you get in an
under-the-table manner from the kid at school who wore the same sweatpants every day and
always looked defiant. A high school boy in the story told a girl he loved her,
and later that night she came to his house. He was outside by the pool, waiting
for her in the dark. “Jump” he told her—and she obeyed him. She dove into the
pool, and hit the empty floor with a crack. Unsuspecting and now dead on the
floor of a pool.
Camp only lasted a week. At times
it felt like an entire glorious summer, stretching forth forever. Other times I
could feel the seconds slipping by, and I wondered how time could move so
quickly away from me. The days had
escaped me, and my time at camp was coming to an end. The last day was
emotional, despite having only spent a week with these people. On that final
day I spent my time at the lake, sitting on the edge with my toes dipped into
the water, letting the wet lap against my heels as they swung suspended above
the surface. All around bodies were leaping into the air with shrieks of
laughter that ended abruptly when they plunged deep down beneath the water only
to resurface with eyes shut tight and smiles stretching from ear to ear. My
heart pounded in response. None of them were scared, and nothing was holding
them back. They were happy. They were brave.
Unbidden, I was suddenly standing,
walking backwards from the edge. I stood, poised and ready to jump. My legs
bent, my arms stuck out awkwardly above my head, and I threw myself off without
thinking. I flailed slightly, my legs couldn't straighten, and my mouth was
open when I dropped below the surface. I went down and down, losing sight of
the light above me, and eventually turning myself to drift back up. A feeling
of panic shot through me as the graceful and malicious stems of seaweed wrapped
themselves around and around my ankles. Panic was unnecessary—it took a few kicks
to free myself from the tangles. The feeling of slime and darkness lingered even
as I made my way desperately to the sunshine. I clawed out of the water,
choking and self-consciously aware of the giggles of anyone who had seen my ungraceful
attempt at diving.
The dock loomed next to me and I
pulled myself up, hand over foot over leg over head over toes until I collapsed
in a heap on the ancient wood. I spread my body out, and lay in silence,
letting the air cool my burning skin and blinking up into the sun. Spots of light
danced across my vision and in my peripherals the thick trees burst upward
towards the clear sky, permeating the magnificent blue that hung in a perfect
suspension. My heart rate slowed to a soft meandering pace, allowing me to
breathe again. In and out, and in and out again, my lungs welcomed anything but
water. I was stillness, even though around me the chaos charged on without a second
thought. Suddenly, I felt a longing to rise. I stood carefully, peeling my body
away from the boards and checking my bare thighs for slivers.
The lake sparkled out in front of
me, beckoning me to join, to try again. I raised my arms in triumph and bent at
the knees to prepare. I couldn't help the grin that rose up from my heart as I
jumped forward and down, into the leagues of beauty below.
