The Dive

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.