The Wright Way

Chapter 26 - The Wright Way

"I can't believe you can't swim," I mutter, putting the sharp rock away and pulling at the rope. Damaged by the rock, it snaps in one place, and I begin to untie it quickly, ignoring Joshua's occasional hisses of pain. A part of me actually finds satisfaction in hurting him. As if I didn't have enough on my plate, now he must throw his inability to swim into the mix.

"Some people can't swim, you know." He wriggles his hands out of my grip and begins to remove the remaining pieces of the rope. "It happens."

I look around. Can't quite see what's happening to the other side of the fallen tree by which we sit, but the visible part of the shore is clear. The opposite shore with its densely growing trees seems close enough. We could be there in a minute—if only he could swim.

"Take your shoes off," I say, removing my own shoes. I tie them by the shoelaces and hang them on my neck. Then, I peek over the fallen tree. The coast is clear.

"Come on, let's go."

I touch the water with my toe and inhale sharply. Definitely not the swimming season yet. I pause, take a deep breath, and make myself walk right into the water, willing my body to adapt to the freezing cold that gradually enwraps my legs. The wetness climbs higher, soaking my jeans. I stop when it reaches my thighs, and turn around. Joshua stands on the shore hanging his own sneakers on his neck. He looks at me and spreads his hands as if saying—now what?

"I still can't swim," he says. "Unless hanging shoes on my neck gives me some magic abilities."

"Come on." I go deeper, until the water is at my waist. "It's not hard at all. The water's holding you."

He shakes his head. "You can't expect me to learn to swim now."

"For fuck's sake," I growl. "Just try!"

"Do you think I never did?" He tries the water with one foot, then shivers and looks at me. "Can't you carry me or something?"

I scowl at him, although by now it's clear that it's probably the only way we could make it to the other shore. I'm strong enough to carry him, but I'm still reluctant. Once, one of my friends—I think it was Chuck—jumped on my back when we were swimming, and I nearly drowned before he realized that my struggling was for real. If Joshua panics in the middle of the river and does something stupid, he could drown us both.

"All right come here," I say resignedly and then just watch him plow slowly towards me, his sneakers swaying from side to side against his chest. "You hold my shoulders, all right? Not my neck. Don't go anywhere near my neck. If I choke, we drown, okay?"

"Okay," he mutters, stopping in front of me. "You make it sound like not fun."

"It's not," I say. "And don't touch anything but my shoulders."

"What?" He gapes at me. "Do you expect I'd be groping you or something?"

"All right, enough." I feel very exposed standing in the middle of the river where anyone could see us. "We need to get going."

I turn around and go deeper until the water reaches my shoulders. I stop and look back, waiting for Joshua. The water is at his chin now. For someone who can't swim, he's handling it well.

"Climb up," I say, and his hands wrap tentatively around my shoulders.

"No legs," I say. "Just sort of lie on me—like that, right."

He leans on me, and I bend forward and try to move. The only swimming I can do with him on my back is the breaststroke, and at first it seems like it's not going to work. His weight pushes me down. Then, I manage to adopt some awkward position with my head above the surface and my legs considerably below it, the angle probably closer to standing in the water that lying in it. As inelegant as it might look—and I hope no one is seeing us, otherwise we have a bigger problem than looking stupid—I manage to keep us afloat and progressing slowly.

The steady current carries us forward, which I don't mind. By the time we reach the other shore, we'll be far enough from the place we entered, making it more difficult for our pursuers to track us down. The problem with the current, though, is that it slows our progress even more, and I'm not sure how long I can continue like this. The effort is more than I expected. It feels much harder than the regular swimming. Each time I allow myself a glance at the approaching bank, it feels as if it hasn't gotten any closer.

I keep on pushing forward, trying to concentrate on the movements and clear my head of all other thoughts. My arms break the surface at a steady pace. Occasional splashes of water get into my face and my nose, bringing with them bouts of panic that are getting harder to resist. I was never much into swimming. I could do it, but I preferred steady ground under my feet.

Joshua's grip grows steadily tighter on my shoulders. He's probably not even aware of it, but it's beginning to obstruct my movements. I can only imagine how it must feel to him to be in this alien environment. Yet telling him to loosen his grip would demand an extra breath I don't have right now, so I just bear with his weight that seems to be increasing with my every stroke.

It feels like there's no breath left in me whatsoever, and my face is dipping regularly into water by the time my foot touches something firm. I kick a few more times, not trusting my luck, and then my other foot encounters a sleek surface as well. I push myself forward with one last effort, and then allow my feet so sink lower, and both of my toes touch the bottom. The shore is still some distance away, but I'm able to stand, my chin above the water, the current pushing me gently to the side.

"Are we there yet?" Joshua says against my ear.

"Close enough," I mutter. "Can't you see?"

"I can now. Kept my eyes closed all the way."

I hum approvingly. That probably saved us some trouble.

"Don't let go yet, it's too deep." I try to make a step, but the current pushes me out of balance and I throw my hands up, trying not to fall backwards. "All right, let go, let go!"

He slides off and I catch him and drag him forward, holding him under his arms. With his weight gone from my back, I'm as light as a butterfly. The moment the water is shallow enough for him to stand, I let go of him and continue alone, eager to get to the shore.

Breathing hard, I drop to the ground. The trees loom above—they grow almost next to the waterline on this side, which is good news. I can't wait to get out of the open space and under their protection.

I sit up, remove the shoes hanging from my neck, pour the water out of them, and begin to untie the shoelaces holding them together.

The splashing sounds announce Joshua's arrival. He makes it out onto the bank on his fours and drops to the ground next to me, shaking.

"Damn," he mutters through clenched teeth. "So. Damn. Cold."

He's right, but I'm not bothered by the cold too much after the effort of swimming. Twisting our clothes to get rid of the extra water could be a good idea, but it should be done under the cover of the trees.

"Put your shoes on," I say. "Quickly, we must go to the forest."

"Uhm." Slowly, he sits up next to me. "About the shoes..."

I glance up and notice that he doesn't have the sneakers around his neck anymore.

"The knot must have opened," he says apologetically in reply to whatever is showing on my face. "I could feel them slip off, but I couldn't do anything. I had to hold on to you."

"Are you kidding me?" I stare at him, then back at the river, hoping against reason that his shoes are still floating there—but no, they must have sunken right away, rubber soles and all. "How are you planning to walk in the forest barefoot?"

"I wasn't planning any of this, let me remind you." He sounds tired rather than angry.

"I can't carry you, if that's what you expect."

He rubs his face, then hides it in his palms. "Okay."

"Okay what?" I'm not sure what pisses me more—the new problem to be solved or his apparent indifference to it. "We can't stay here. They'll find us in no time."

"Frankly, I'm not sure if I care anymore," he says. "I kind of wouldn't mind dying right now, you know?"