When we returned to our seats, the knot turned into an ache.

All I wanted to do was leave. I thought again of Mary’s words.

Where everything wrong is made right.

Sometimes everything being made right seems an impossible distance away.

Following Her Down

I follow Tom down again, leaving the sounds above me, and sink into the freezing lake. This passing from one world to the next comes with a simple blip in my ears as they plug against the water. I try to kick my way to the bottom, but I am in no shape for this, and my buoyancy pulls me up. I am momentarily envious of Tom’s fit body, his ability to move through the water like an otter. I float unwillingly back to the surface, gasp for air once again. Tom is still under. The clouds float lazily across the sky, indifferent. A gull, miles from the ocean, calls out in a lonely voice.

When the two of you emerge, Tom taking in a long breath, blinking water from his eyes, dragging you up out of the depths, I expect you to be dead. It seemed so long since you went under that I’m shocked to hear you coughing, choking on water. Tom swims gently on his back, tugging you along with one of his arms, speaking soft words into your ear.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. “You’re okay.”

I swim weakly behind you both to the boat. I say your name with each sputtering exhale, gasping it out. “Pearl. Pearl. Pearl.”

Your eyes are open but dim, your mouth wet with water and drool, your hair clinging to your head like seaweed.

“Hold her while I get into the boat,” Tom says.

I grab you with one arm around your chest, my other arm holding on to the back of the boat. You turn, fold your skinny, cold arms around my neck, and start to cry.

While Tom gathers himself in the boat and prepares to lift you, I pull you tighter to me and whisper into your ear, “Pearl, what happened?”

“She pulled me under,” you whisper.

“Who pulled you under? Tom?”

“No.” You bury your face deeper in the crook of my neck. “The woman.”

“The silver-haired woman?”

“She was under the water the entire time. She wanted to show me something, she wants to help me learn how to swim underwater, and she pulled me under.”

I think about the look on your face before you sank, the way you glanced down into the water with something like recognition.

“Pearl,” I whisper, not knowing what to say.

“She only wants to teach me. She just wants to help,” you say again, this time in a neutral voice without fear or regret. “That was all. It’s very important.”

“What did she show you?” I ask.

Tom reaches down to take you from me, but I hold up my hand, motioning for him to wait.

“Everything,” you say, and there is a deep sadness in your eyes.