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In a flurry of motion, we flew through the air as the raft flipped. Water rushed into my face and my mouth as it pulled me under. My grip on the widows’ hands started to slip as the water yanked us beneath it, but my fingers refused to let go, so I squeezed tighter, holding onto them for dear life as we tumbled and twisted in the churning waves. Finally, when I was out of air, and certain I would drown, the water released its unyielding grip, and we popped up to the surface one by one.
Coughing to clear our lungs, we gasped for breath, bobbing in the softening rapids that continued to push us downstream.
“Is anyone hurt?” Marge asked as our speed decreased.
“I think I’m okay,” I answered, though I truly had no idea if I had injuries and was just in shock.
“I think I’m okay too,” Alice answered.
“I’m not hurt. Thank the Lord,” Doris said.
“Anyone got eyes on Julio?” Marge started spinning her head around.
Julio!
Crap! I’d nearly forgotten our poor guide was floating somewhere in the river.
“Julio!” we shouted, but there was no answer.
“Look! There!” Doris shouted, pointing her finger toward his body drifting quickly toward us.
“Get ready to grab him!” Marge commanded, and we all stretched out our free arms and got ready.
He moved with such speed I almost missed him, but I snatched ahold of the small dry bag he had tethered to him and held him tight as he blew by. His life preserver kept him floating on his back, and my stomach dropped when I didn’t see any response on his face.
“I’ve got him! Help me get him to shore!”
The ladies all grabbed him, and together we pushed him to the river’s edge. Marge scrambled out, grabbing his legs and pulling him out of the water. The three of us crawled out beside her, panting. His unconscious body lay in an awkward heap at our feet.
Doris shrieked. “Is he dead?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Marge, the nurse, went to work quickly doing CPR.
We held our collective breath as we watched her work, and I glanced up for a moment to see our raft drifting away far down the river and out of sight.
“Can you save him? Oh, my God. I feel awful!” I covered my face. “It’s my fault. I lost my balance and knocked him out of the raft!”
“Come on, Julio. Breathe!” Alice cupped her hands together, closing her eyes tight.
“Our Father who art in Heaven,” Doris started, making the sign of the cross as she prayed over Julio.
Finally, he coughed, sputtering up water as he choked it out.
“Oh, thank God!” I pressed my hands to my helmet. “He’s alive!”
But shortly after coughing, he seemed to lose consciousness again.
“What happened? Why isn’t he awake?” I asked, still riddled senseless with the guilt he was in this situation because of me. “Is he ... dead?”
“He’s not dead. He’s breathing now,” Marge touched a small streak of blood coming from beneath his helmet. It was then I saw the dent in it. “But I think he lost consciousness because he has a TBI.”
“TBI?” Alice asked.
“Traumatic brain injury. I think he hit his head.”
“Is it serious?” Doris asked.
“Dunno. Could be. Also could just have gotten knocked silly, and he’ll wake up later with a big bump and a headache. Help me brace his neck in case he has a spinal injury, then we’ll take his helmet off, and I’ll give him a thorough exam.
