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I shake my head. “I didn’t know until last night when you told me the story.”
She nods and looks at her hands.
“Do you want me to tell you what happened that night?” Part of me wants to race out of here, and the other wants to take every last second I have remaining with her.
“Yes, tell me. I want to know.”
I give a sharp nod. “Okay.”
Our eyes lock, and she lifts her chin a bit as if putting on a brave face.
I figure she’s ready, so I begin. “We were dispatched late, and as you already know, it took us over an hour to reach them. The weather wasn’t horrible, the seas weren’t crazy like they are in the winter, but it’s still the ocean. When I arrived, three of them were on the deck. The helicopter lowered, and I jumped into the ocean. Thankfully, although they were all drunk, one got the ladder for me to climb onto the boat. But once I got there, it was pure chaos. One man had a gash on his head and a significant burn on his arm, and another was running around, still trying to put out the fire. I made all three of them put a life preserver on and radioed to the chopper to lower the basket so I could put the man with the injuries on it. It wasn’t Sawyer.
“When the basket lowered while I was tending to the injured man, trying to get the bleeding under control, Sawyer and the other guy fought over the basket. I had to leave the guy with the wound and go over to them. The one man was offering me crazy amounts of money to put him up first, but the injured go first. I explained it would be his friend but that there was no rush, we’d get everyone off.”
I hate retelling this night in general, but there’s an extra level of anxiety knowing we’re about to come to the worst part and I’m talking to Sawyer’s widow.
“Still with me?”
She nods though she’s barely blinking, looking a little shell-shocked.
“So, I grabbed the basket again and was getting the injured guy into the basket when the guy offering me money jumped and clung onto the basket along with the injured guy. The injured man fell in the water. I dove in to get the guy, but the other guy couldn’t hang on to the basket and fell in the water too. Meaning I now had two in the water and Sawyer still on the boat. We had another helicopter on the way, but they were thirty minutes out. We’d been dispatched because we were out on a training exercise, and we were the closest.”
I pause and take a deep breath, hating this next part.
“Even if it’s not winter, the water is freezing, and their clothes were no match for the ocean. I finally managed to get the one guy back on the boat and then go back for the injured guy, radioing for the chopper to lower the basket again. I figured I was safe to hook him in the water, but just as it got to me, Sawyer and the other guy jumped in, swimming toward us to get to the basket first. I’ve witnessed people get panicky before. They don’t want to be left alone, and human nature takes over and it’s every man for himself. The other guy pulled off his life preserver—I think in an effort to make it easier to swim so he’d beat Sawyer there. I’m sure the alcohol and drugs didn’t help with the decision-making. But if we had done it orderly, it would have all been fine.”
“Keep going,” she says, showing signs of life again.
“I didn’t get the injured man in the basket because Sawyer and the other guy got in. But both of their weights were too heavy, and the basket snapped off, and they hit the water hard. Sawyer came back up because he still had his life preserver on, but the other guy didn’t. I dove under a few times but couldn’t find him. Then I got a call on the radio that the chopper was low on fuel. I swam toward the boat with Sawyer in one hand and the injured guy in the other. It seemed like it took forever, and then the boat made a noise I could hear over the whirling of the helicopter blades, and I knew it was gonna go down. I don’t know how to explain it, but when you’ve done the job for a while, sometimes you just know.”
I take another breath, but she seems anxious for me to go on, so I do.
“I asked Sawyer if he could swim on his own and all three of us swam out. The helicopter lowered another basket down and I put the injured guy in. He was older and definitely not as strong as Sawyer. Sawyer could tread water and I would help him until they got his friend up. But Sawyer grabbed the clip, trying to get it on. I had no choice but to fight him for it, but then I lost the injured guy when a big wave came in and he floated away from me. By the time I’d gotten him and come back, Sawyer was ripping off his life jacket and his shirt.”
When Brinley looks at me as though she doesn’t understand, I explain. “Sometimes when people have hypothermia, they feel hot because their blood vessels are dilating to try to warm freezing tissue in their limbs. Very often people will strip out of their clothes in an effort to cool down and end up speeding up the process.” I frown, hating that I’m having to give her that visual. “At this point, the boat was about to go down and you never really know which way they’ll sink. So I grabbed the clip, strapped in the injured man, and they hoisted him up. A lot of good that did—he died of exposure on route back to land. Once he was headed up, I went to grab Sawyer to get him when the basket came back down, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I dove under and saw him sinking. Brinley?”
“I’m fine, just continue. I want to know.” Her voice is hoarse.
“I grabbed his arm and pulled him up, but when we surfaced, a big wave came and it took a minute to get my bearings. The pilot said we were low on fuel and had to go now. When I got him up, his body was limp, and I had an idea we’d lost him. The guys tried CPR once he was in the chopper, but it was no use. He was gone. Too much time in the water, too much water in his lungs. As we were flying away, the ship was barely above the water.”
She looks at me, and I inhale a deep breath.
“I went from never losing anyone to losing three. We never recovered the third body. What I don’t understand, though, is that there was no Sawyer lost that day. I’ve read the incident reports enough times to know.”
She nods slowly, almost as if she’s in a trance. “His given name was Bartholomew. It’s a terrible name. He never used it. Went by his middle name instead.” She lets out a sad sort of laugh. “Kind of like you.”
I wince. “I’m so sorry it was Sawyer, Brinley. I hope someday you can forgive me.” I stand. “I’ve already packed my things, and they’re in the truck.”
She stares at her hands. “Thank you.” She stands. “For telling me. I’ve always wondered what happened that night. If he was in pain and how he drowned when they recovered his body.”
I run my hand down her cheek. “I wish it was different. My time with you has been the best in my life. Always know that. But had I known who you were, I never would’ve come here. I would never put you through this.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers.
“You don’t need to say anything. I know this is too much for us to get over. You’ll always see him when you look at me now, and I’ll always see my failure to save three men when I look at you.” I give her a questioning look and she doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Bye, Brinley.”
I walk out of her apartment and down the stairs to my truck. Her cousins are waiting, and I toss Calista my keys to the apartment before I get in my truck.
