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DAPHNE
Remember the first line.
Line?
Of a book.
Remember the first line of a book. If you’re doing something very difficult, and you need to take your mind off it, remember the first line of a book you love, Daph.
Damn it.
I can’t remember any books I’ve loved.
It’s so much colder than I thought.
Bone-splitting cold. Ice shards in my eyes. A weighted freeze. Emerson is out here every day. I thought I could survive an hour.
Well, I will. I will make it through this hour. If I’m honest, I don’t know how long it’s been. This is nothing like learning to swim off the beach on one of our family vacations. Somewhere warm and tropical. Who was teaching me? Leo, probably, but I can’t remember. I can only remember the water in my face.
A wave slaps my cheek. How many times has that happened? A lot, I think. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve lifted my arms. Kicked my feet.
It’s getting harder.
The ocean pulls at my arms with every stroke. I’m not much of a swimmer but I know what happens if I stop kicking. I’ll sink. Turning my head to scan for the shore takes real effort.
I can’t see it.
Okay.
That’s a setback.
I turn in the opposite direction. Waves upon waves. Not this way, then.
I catch a glimpse of the shore. I’ll head that way. That’s the way I have to go. But no—it’s not the shore. It’s a cloud or maybe just a dark line. I don’t know what it is, but it seems more like the shore than the ocean.
Good enough.
The absolutely crucial thing is to keep swimming. Lift one arm, then the other. Kick. Kick. Kick. Have to keep my mind off the cold. I’ll remember the first line of a book.
Damn it. I have to have read a book in my life. How did Leo always remember? Right—because he used this trick for something worse than swimming. For excruciating pain. Being this cold hurts quite a bit more than I expected but it’s not as bad as whip wounds. Silver linings. Salt linings. I open my mouth to laugh at my own joke and get a mouthful of ocean water. It freezes my teeth.
Maybe the color wheel instead.
Pinks. Reds. Oranges. Violets.
No. Yellows.
Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet.
That’s just the rainbow.
One arm, then the other. It was so bitter when I got in. I thought I might not be able to breathe, but I am. Knife-breaths. Pinching my lungs.
It’s not as bad now. Not as cold, I mean. It’s starting to feel…
It’s starting to feel almost warm, which is a bad sign. When you start to feel warm in water like this, you’re going to drown. Not me, though. Not today.
Maybe today.
