The Water

The water is calm and inviting. Standing on the bank it looks warm and still. The water looks almost fake against the pink and yellow sunrise. You take a long drawn out deep breath. It smells like after a warm summer rainstorm when you can smell the clean grass and wet tree bark. The smell is familiar and calming so you slowly take off your socks and shoes, setting them next to you in the dry sand. The mud is cold in between my toes, but it still feels inviting and free. You slowly start to inch your way toward the water. Not too fast because then you might change your mind. You’ve been warned how dangerous water is but its so beautiful. There are people behind you now, safe and trustworthy people. They are cheering you on,

“The water will save you, you just have to get in.”

“Once you get in life will never be the same.”

“You will be forever changed once you submerge yourself completely into the water.”

You slowly inch toward the water, still hesitant because you know how dangerous water can be. Your toes finally meet the water's edge. A small ripple from the tip of your toes glides seamlessly across the water. The water is warm and inviting but you are still cautious. You look behind you and your friends and family are smiling, so proud and encouraging. You slowly pick up your foot and take a step deeper into the stream. Usually the deeper you step into a creek it gets a little colder and you get a little shock of cold as the sun can't reach the bottom of the water, but this creek is different. You pick up your other foot and set it next to your other foot. You look down and the water is up to your ankles. This is good. It feels good and its not too deep. You are safe on the bank and you don’t want to get too wet for the day.

You glance behind you and their faces are different. They see that you don't want to continue all the way into the water and their faces almost look stoic. Still looking at them you pick up your foot and they immediately turn back on. But you place your foot back down in the same spot in the water until your feet touch the warm smooth mud and they return to being cold and statue-like.

“You don’t want to be lukewarm. You must go deeper. You aren’t truly swimming until you have gone all the way into the water. Those are the rules. You don’t love the water until you go all the way in.” Don't love the water? I loved the water more than words could say. The mystery, the beauty design was easy not to fight the love you had for the water. Lukewarm? Not you. Never.

Your heart is racing and you listen to the weight of their words. You turn back facing the water and you take in beauty in front of you. Lukewarm? I’m better than lukewarm. It is warm and picturesque so you pick up your foot and take a big step forward without hesitation. You hear them cheer behind you and it gives you a sense of pride. You’re doing it, you’re fitting in and doing something right for the first time is what seems like forever.

You’re up to your knees in the water but you know it is still not enough. You trudge forward lifting your arms to help heave your leg through the water. More rippling little waves dance across the water. You smile at the beauty before you. Looking at the mini waves and all the little details that you only notice when you are no longer on the shoreline. You peer into the water a little deeper and you see it isn’t as clear as it was when you were on the bank. When you got a little deeper you swirled the sand and mud so now it is murky and hard to see through.

You take a couple of minutes to let it settle back to the bottom but you can hear the murmurs behind you. You glance back and they look disapproving. Almost impatient, but you can tell they are trying not to rush you. You know this is it. If you don’t do it now it could be too late. You tell yourself you love the water more than anyone ever could, and you take a deep sharp breath. Filling your lungs with as much air as they will hold and you plunge forward into the warm and inviting water.

You kick your legs as hard as you can against the water, your arms stretched straight out then circling around you to help pull you through the unfamiliar territory. It truly feels so inviting and comforting. The noise of the world is gone and you can just hear your heart beat. A faithful and calming drum. You haven’t felt this calm or still since you can remember. So you keep swimming. Kicking and pulling, kicking and pulling. Deeper and further away from the bank. You can just imagine all their faces on shore as they swell with pride. She’s doing it, she’s swimming like she's supposed to. So you keep kicking and pulling.

You realize your lungs are starting to ache and they need air very soon and it makes you so sad to think you will have to return to the surface. It’s so quiet and empty. You try to open your eyes under the water but it burns and it is too dark to see anything. Reluctantly you kick hard and pull fast to the surface. Your lungs are screaming at you that they need air so you reach up hard and fast. You don’t know how much farther you have until you breach the surface but you keep swimming. It’s almost effortless like you have been doing it your entire life.

Your lungs are done and you go to gasp for air just as you feel your hand reach out from under the water. The air hits the palm of your hand and it feels like an icicle piercing through you. You inhale a bit of water but then your head follows your hands and you breathe in the freezing cold air. The water in your lungs makes you cough and sputter while you try to stay above the water that now seems to be an ocean. The waves are pulling and pushing you whether you want them too or not. You are trying to retain your breath but the water holds no mercy. You squint and you can see the shore. Coughing and trying to rub the water out of your eyes you see how far out you are from everyone. They are all waving at you and celebrating that you’re really doing it. You realize just how tired you are and that you’ve never practiced or trained yourself to swim in these kinds of waters. Just when you think you are going to get the last of the water out of your lungs a big wave smacks you from the side as you breathe in and you start all over. You’re exhausted and your body is screaming at you that it has almost nothing more to give.

“Help!” You yell as you fight to keep your head above the waves. “Help, I can’t keep swimming! The waves are too big!” You wave your hands and scissor your legs as hard and as fast as you can to push you up out of the water so they can see just what a dangerous situation you’re in. You can only make out bits and pieces of what they are shouting back as you try to keep your nose high and away from what seems like growing waves.

“It’s just a season!” Someone yells safely from shore.

“We are praying for you!” Another voice chimes in happily.

You try treading water but your muscles are aching and you know they will give out soon. The once beautiful sunrise has turned angry with gray and black angry clouds rolling in. When you didn’t think the waves could get any bigger they double in size.

“The boat!” You yell, “Please someone bring me the boat.” You don’t know how much longer you can make it. The massive waves are starting to pull you under and you’re having trouble catching your breath in between sputtering up water.

“Faith as big as a mustard seed!” Someone yells as they smile in their lawn chair from the beach.

“Help, someone help please. I’m going to die out here.” You look around for something to grab onto, anything. But it is just you. The clothes that you were wearing feel like they are shrinking and molding into your skin making it harder to fight the waves. The current is showing you just how angry it is for trespassing into its sacred waters. One more big kick and my legs tell me no more. You thrash and use your arms as much as you can but it’s not useful. It’s almost like a lasso around your ankle that is pulling you under. It’s quiet under the water again but it’s different. You’re scared now, your lungs burn and ache from the amount of water that you’ve taken in. You can’t see or hear anything still fighting to reach the surface again.

Without notice someone grabs your hand and pulls you up. Yu didn’t realize how deep you were but you didn’t care. They won’t make it to the surface in time for you to take the air that you need to. But you’re grateful someone came. Then you hit the surface again. The waves are angry and vengeful that they didn’t get to swallow you whole. Your arm is whipped over a small orange circular floaty. You hold onto it as tight as you can fighting with the waves that seem to want to rip it from your hands. You try to catch your breath now able to somewhat keep your head above the raging waves with your little life preserver.

You see the person that helped you! “Hey! Help! Help me please, help!” They are swimming away from you and you see a decent size boat they are swimming toward. Your heart swells with hope. You muster what you can and start kicking and pulling, holding your floaty in front of you or your arms would give out and you would sink again.

They reached the boat and two large men reached their hands down and pulled the other man up from the water effortlessly. They are smiling and hugging one another, happy to have their friend back safe on their boat. They high five one another and start the boat engine. You kick with the last of your strength only a few yards away. You’re almost there. Then without even looking back the boat speeds away to shore. Throwing the smell of gas and waves into your face. Stunned you are thrashed by a wave and pulled under again. Your life preserve pulls you back up with ease but you’re still fighting.

You watch as the boat docks and everyone runs to greet the men on shore. They are welcomed with hugs, warm towels, and atta boys. “Help!” I yell with the last of my energy, “Please, anyone I’m still out here.”

They turn and look at you and their faces are different. They look annoyed and displeased.

“You used to love the water. What happened?”

And they slowly turn and walk away. To a small building just up on the hill. They open the old white door and they give you one last glance.

Someone shouts from the stoop of the small building as says, “Our service starts at 9:30. We’d love to have you if you can make it!” And the door slowly closes. You blink a few times and you can’t believe they just left you.

You look around and to your surprise you see thousands of bodies floating in the water. Grasping little orange floaties, their fingers gray and lifeless.