Spoiler! :
Chapter 1: Endings and Such Nonsense
I sniffed the air. It was thick; humidity was high, even for it being the middle of the summer in Mississippi. It was that oppressive weight that drove me to the swimming hole that day. I was in search of cooler temperatures.
I loved the heat, if only because the cure was a dip in the cool water of the local swimming hole. It was there that I went every summer to trade one kind of wet for the other kind, and in my opinion, the best type. I loved the water. Sweating? Not so much.
“Are ya coming in, Lulu?” called an unmistakably teenage and male voice. The origin of the question was Tommy Shanson. Tommy had been my best friend since before I could tell time. Ours was one of those easy friendships that only kids can make and keep. No one can tell you how they start, but the beauty of a friendship like mine and Tommy’s was in the simplicity. We were friends and it was as simple as that.
From my vantage point, I could just barely see his suntanned feet toeing the muddy bank. It was hard to tell sometimes where mud and sand ended and actual water began. Everyone knew you just had to wade on in and find out or jump on faith and hope for the best.
“In a minute!” I yelled back at him.
The top of his blond head shone almost white in the hot noon sun. His hair was always sticking up slightly in the front and I liked to joke that a cow had licked his forehead when he was born. He’d deny it every time and hastily try to flatten it with his hands, but only succeed in making the strands stick out straight in front of him like the brim of a cap. It was cute.
I sighed and fingered my own coppery hair that was twisted back in a braid. I despised my hair. It’s amazing how many redhead jokes kids can come up with over the years. Not that I cared too much what they said. At least not much.
The bark of the old oak I was perched in was rough against the tender inside skin of my arm, and I knew without looking that I would have a wavy pattern on my skin when I pulled away. I still remember what that felt like, even today. It’s not something you can forget.
A gnarled limb twisted out in a fair resemblance of a diving board over the river depths, and I squinted as my eyes caught some of the light reflecting from the brown water about twenty feet below. I shook off my unease at the height, and focused again on what I was going to accomplish.
I hoped anyway.
“Aw! Hurry up! You’ve been putting this off forever, and the water couldn’t be any better right now!” Tommy was taunting me, as usual, his voice cracking with the strain of puberty. I’d noticed lately that he was reaching that point in his life where awkwardness would soon turn into strength and baby fat into steel. The realization made me sad and excited all in one, and I wasn’t quite sure as to why.
“I said, give me a minute!” I called back. “You can’t rush greatness!”
He shook his head and laughed at me, making me wish I had chosen a pine tree so I could chuck a pine cone at him. I’m known for many things, pine cone tossing accuracy being chief among them. I was stalling and he’d called me out on it. For that, he’d have to pay.
It’s never been one of my accomplishments in life to be able to stand readily by and deal with mockery. I guess the best word to describe me is unalterable. I really don’t like change or being mocked. Probably never will.
My momma once told me, in one of her rare fits of visibility, that “We all have a purpose in life darlin, it just takes some people longer to get to it is all.” I wondered at the time if she had been drinking with daddy. I didn’t give much thought to it until that summer, when it felt like everything was going to change.
And then those words were constantly in the forefront of my mind, tantalizing me, making my heart ache with some emotion that eluded me. It wasn’t enough my body was changing, but I had to have those emotional issues as well. Stupid puberty.
Anyway, I took a final, steeling, deep breath of that cloying magnolia laden air, and I ran along that springboard limb like a little monkey at the circus. My final act was to fling myself out as far as I could over the river.
The force of my momentum whipped my braid back and I felt the adrenalin rushing in my veins, creating an enlivening awareness as I plummeted to land in the water. The high that base jumpers or skydivers get enveloped me completely and wild laugh pulled itself from my open mouth. I just considered myself lucky that I hadn’t swallowed a love bug. Those creatures taste awful. (Don’t ask.)
The tricky part that was supposed to be so dang impressive involved me turning a back flip in mid-air before I hit the water. Not an easy feat when you don’t even know how to do back flips normally. Feel free to roll your eyes at my stupidity.
But no one here said I was being careful.
Or even remotely sane.
Right around the point where I should have been flipping, I froze. It was like someone had pressed pause on the movie of my life, and when it played again, the movie continued but not in the way I had intended. No, definitely not like how I’d imagined.
With almost twice my initial velocity, I smacked into the water back first and that’s when I felt it. The hit. The tree. I had been hit by a tree. Or rather, I hit a tree. My body was broken. I knew that much.
Pain was everywhere. It. Was. Horrible.
The real sticker in the situation was my paralyzed state. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move a single muscle and I was going to drown.
The water—which only seconds before I had seen as a comfort from the overbearing heat—was pushing at me; dragging at my body; trying to work its nasty little way into my mouth and nose to suffocate me with its presence. It was the enemy then, and I hated it for its false innocence on that hot day, for tricking me into believing it was my friend.
Friends don’t try to kill you, or so I was led to believe. But then again, we all learn something new every day.
Just…hold…on… I thought desperately as the pain riddled my body and darkness began to creep its way into my waterlogged mind.
Giving in was almost a relief, I think. I couldn’t even tell the difference between breathing water and breathing air. My hot lungs were soothed by coolness and I was thankful regardless of where it came from.
The river claimed me for its own, and fighting that muddy water was something many people despaired against each year. It didn’t give anything back, if you weren’t able to keep up.
I’d lost a couple hats in there over my lifetime of coming to that swimming hole.
I just never thought I’d lose myself as well.
Like the Lady of Shalott, I floated to Camelot.
2556 days later…
On Tuesday, June 12th, 2007, I woke up. And from that moment, I wished I never had, because then things would have been much less disturbing.
Maybe.
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