Page 34 of That Last Summer

I close my eyes tightly to relieve the sting from the salty water; I forgot to put my goggles on. Unconsciously, my mind goes to the times I’ve done this with Alex. We really spent half our lives in the water.

Alex.

I think about him; of course I do, it’s inevitable. I wonder if he’s around. I didn’t want to know anything about him all these years, that’s true, but now that I’m back, I feel a strange need to know everything. I wonder if he works as a lifeguard on this beach and come to the conclusion that it’s quite probable he does. I didn’t go for a walk along the shore before diving into the water, so I’ve not had the opportunity to poke around and look for him in one of the four watch towers. I would have snooped pretending I wasn’t, of course—pretending very hard.

How did he become a lifeguard? The last I heard was that he was quitting swimming because of his injury, but I don’t know what sort of injury it was. I guess it must have been pretty serious if it forced him to abandon his livelihood, and I don’t mean it in economic terms. And this lifeguard thing, is it a steady job or just something he does once in a while? Does he have another job? What does he do in his free time?

Savage Garden’s “I Don’t Know You Anymore” comes to mind, instantly and inevitably, and I start to sing. I’m alone here, nobody can hear me. The buzz of jet skis approaches, but I keep going, singing with my eyes closed. It’s so nice in here, so relaxing—

The salty water of the first wave coming from the jet skis enters my mouth like a torrent and goes straight down my throat; at the exact same moment, a jellyfish stings me on the leg. God, the pain! I duck my head, still coughing, to check if I can see the sting, and that’s when the second wave from the jet skis’ wake hits me hard. I swallow water again as the jellyfish stings my other leg.

I’ve always thought that for an accident to happen, many simultaneous circumstances must collide, along with some sort of planetary alignment, and that’s exactly what seems to happen now.

I try to kick the jellyfish away from me; I know that’s a mistake, the worst thing I could do, but I can’t control either my emotions or my body. I’m out of breath from all the water I’ve swallowed, and I’m still swallowing, and all I want to do is swim to get out of here. But I can’t.

I feel dizzy, like I’ve been drugged, about to lose consciousness. I sink down and see the jellyfish just inches from my face; I move my hand desperately, trying to push it away but only managing to get stung again—for the third time—on my arm. Instinctively, I open my mouth to call for help but I swallow more water in the process and I start coughing and coughing, sinking deeper and deeper. I can’t breathe. I feel my chest burning and a new sting on my neck before darkness surrounds me.

* * *

There are sounds in the distance. I hear them muffled and in a constant replay, like an echo.

“Come on, Pris. Fuck! Come on!”

Alex? Is that Alex’s voice?

“Alex! What the hell happened?”

River?

“Come on, Pris! Throw it up!”

Abruptly I sit up, a terrible pain in my chest, and I start spitting water. Someone turns me on my side and I watch as all the water I’ve swallowed from the sea gushes into the sand. I start to cough and the pain in my chest worsens. Breathing is difficult; everything tastes like salt. It’s disgusting. A sharp pain—my legs and my arm hurt too. God, everything hurts. Then I remember what happened: a jellyfish stung me and I almost drowned. Fuck.

“About time.” I think the one talking now is my brother. River. “You scared me to death.”

“Pris! Pris! You okay?”

Jaime?

“W-Water...” I manage, stammering. “I need water.”

There are too many people around me, and I can’t make out any of them. Someone hugs me tightly, taking my breath away.

“You good? Bring her some water!”

I try to focus and I see that it is, indeed, River. My sister-in-law Catalina is there too, looking worried with Jaime and Alex. The four of them are kneeling next to me. The rest of the crowd around me is made up of strangers.

Someone hands me a bottle of water, but I just take a small gulp. Getting the liquid through my throat hurts; it feels so swollen, as if it was almost closed.

“You’re fucking reckless, you could have drowned!” Alex’s yell catches me off guard, surprises me and wakes me up at the same time. “If you can’t swim, you stay on the fucking shore making sandcastles with your friend.”

“I can swim,” I reply, agitated. And also kind of scared.

“Yeah, like hell you can! I just fucking saw it!” He stands up and runs his hands over his head; his hair is messier than usual, and I realize then he’s soaked. Locks of hair are covering his forehead and drops of water are dripping all over his face. Was he the one who pulled me out of the sea?

“I was—”

“I can’t be on duty twenty-four-seven keeping an eye on you in case you decide to get in the water, so if you want to take a dip, do it in the fucking pool!” Alex says, still yelling. He gives me no respite, won’t let me explain myself, but still, I try.