Page 6 of Adrift

Needless to say, we ended on awkward terms.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Olivia.”

“Darian–”

I do the only thing I know works with Olivia–something I don’t love doing because despite her overbearing persistence, she’s still my friend and I’m not an all-out asshole. But she’s left me no choice. I clench my jaw and give her a no-nonsense look, one that has her swallowing the words she was about to say. “I need to go. Thanks for the offer. If I need your sister’s help, I’ll ask for it.”

Feeling like shit at the way her face drops, I hurry toward the exit, swinging my life vest over my shoulder. I know I need more help–at work and in my fucking life–but I’ve managed figuring shit out on my own most of my life, and especially over the past year.

And I’ll do it again.

* * *

I see the group spread out over the water, practicing exiting their kayaks when it’s rolled over in the water. It’s the first technique we teach beginners.

I paddle toward one of the stragglers–a middle-aged man with blotchy skin. He seems to have gotten stuck around a small eddy and can’t get his kayak faced the right way to get to the rest of the group. I wave to Felix, letting him know I’ve got it.

“Remember, speed and angle,” I yell, getting his attention. “You’ll want to use a little more speed and not quite as much of an angle to get over this eddy. Stay calm and use the momentum of the current and a good few pushes with your paddle to get yourself over.”

I paddle toward him to show him by doing it myself. After a long minute, he gets himself righted and paddles toward the rest of the group.

They’re making their way over a downstream current, and then on to their first drop with the white water. This is usually when most beginners get anxious. After doing a few of these, everyone tends to feel more comfortable, but it’s always a little intimidating when the kayak picks up speed before the first drop.

A few of them make it and I’m glad to hear a couple of happy yelps in the process, but then I notice a woman angled too far to the left with her paddle too far above the water. I immediately know she’s going to land on her side, and if she’s a newbie, she’s going to roll into the water instead of being able to quickly right herself and balance over the current.

I rush toward her as she rolls into the water, the current still pushing her downstream. I don’t have time to figure out where anyone else is or if Felix has noticed her rolling–my focus is completely on getting to her as fast as I can. Rolling your kayak over is always easier in calmer waters but with her going downstream, I know panic can set in pretty fucking quickly.

I’ve seen the worst of what can happen. This river may be something I’ve mastered, having grown up around it, but I’ll never make the mistake of trusting it again.

Never again.

She’s still rolled over in the water, caught up in a current, when I reach her. I don’t see any signs of her above the water so I know she hasn’t successfully done the wet exit they had worked on earlier.

Time seems to move both fast and slow, but in situations like this, even a second lost can mean the difference between life and death or even serious injury. Pulling my kayak to the side, away from the current, I get out and rush toward her. The current pushes its weight against me, but I’ve done rescues like this before and know enough to manage getting to her kayak.

Right as I get my hands under the water to help her out, her head pops out and then her body. She must have pulled the kayak’s skirt as she was taught, right in time. Bent over, she coughs as her whole body shakes from both the adrenaline surge and the freezing water in her system. I know the feeling well–I remember it from my first few times when I was learning to kayak–and it feels like your heart is going to explode.

She gasps for air, clutching her chest and coughing, and the slight tinge of blue in her lips seems to be dissipating. “Oh my God! I’m dying. Am I dead? Did I drown?” She turns toward me, and I swear, I see a flash of someone I haven’t seen in a year. The woman I spent close to a decade with; the woman I have a son with. The same damn pert nose and flawless tan skin, the same scowl and set of her jaw. Her mouth hangs agape as recognition settles over her features. “Darian?”

“Rani? What . . .?” I look around, noticing this isn’t the best location to exchange pleasantries.

Holding on to her with one arm so she doesn’t slip on the rocky surface, I get her kayak upright and empty out the water in it before pulling them both out of the current and to the side. She hobbles a little and I turn to examine her bare legs. One of them appears slightly scraped up–possibly from hitting a rock–but it doesn't look like she’ll need stitches.

She’s still coughing and shivering, heaving in big breaths. Her face is flushed when she looks at me. “I swear, I thought the wish I made came true. I thought the Big Guy had accepted my application to work in his masterpiece department.”

She places her wet fingers over her lips, closing her eyes momentarily as if she can’t believe she said whatever she just said out loud. And even though I have not a fucking clue what she was talking about, I’m starting to wonder if maybe she took a hit to the old noggin, too.

I look at the helmet on her head to see if it’s cracked. “Are you alright? Can you stand on your own?” I ask, pulling her kayak over to mine, while still tentatively holding her arm.

Her face picks up more color as she nods. “Yeah, but I think I twisted my wrist. It might even be broken. I might not be able to use it after this. What if I need surgery? I think I’m done for the day.”

I can’t help notice the way her eyes flit to the side, and I know she’s hoping I won’t guilt her into trying to get back in the river again. “Okay, let’s get you over to the ground where you can sit and catch your breath for a minute.”

A look of relief washes over her before she follows me over the rocks and to the side of the river, taking tentative steps before capturing my forearm in a vise grip with her good hand. I help pull her to the wet ground before she sits. “I don’t know where my paddle went.”

I look down the river, but I don’t see her paddle anywhere. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time we’ve lost a paddle.”

Felix makes his way over a minute later, and I yell down at him to let him know I’ll be back after getting Rani situated in the building.

---