Breathless

"She’s drowning!” I didn’t see her go under the surface of the water. I wasn’t paying attention. I just knew that a minute ago, she was there, and now all I could see were the rippling circles expanding out from where she had been last.

I watched for her to resurface, but she didn’t. I waited a little longer. The dark water returned to its motionless calm. Nothing.

Too much time had gone by.

I looked around for help, but who could I ask? Two important people in their white lab coats were comparing notes with each other. Grabbing one person’s arm, he looked down at my hand and then back up at my face.

“Can I help you?”

Pointing toward the water tank with its tall transparent splash guards in place, I said, “She’s drowning, can’t you see?”

They looked where I was pointing and then back at me like I was seeing things. “Are you sure? There don’t appear to be any signs of a struggle. Look how calm the surface of the water is.”

“What?! The water's that calm because she HAS been under too long.”

“Don’t go getting worked up over nothing. She is just holding her breath for attention.”

I felt a check in my heart and thought, well, maybe they were right.

Looking back over the surface of the water, I realized I was holding my breath for her… waiting… waiting for any sign that she was still there. Still in this with me.

How could I calm down when we were running out of time?

“Don’t you see her? Don’t you see what’s happening to her?” I continued to say.

But no, they couldn’t see her. The waves of familiar faces coming and going through the revolving doors of this facility had caused their eyes to dim.

“How can you not see it?” I pointed toward where the ripples had calmed. She had been down too long. “Do something!” I yelled.

They glanced over again in the direction I was pointing just as a small cascade of water ruptured the surface. It was her weak arm flailing for something to grab and her face barely breaking the surface of the water.

“See—there she is. She’s fine,” the expert said coldly as he turned his back to the tank that was holding my wife.

Her ears were still below the surface of the water, so she couldn’t hear me yelling to her. Yelling…“I’m here! Hold on.”

But what was there for her to hold onto?

I looked around, trying to find a way to get to the other side of the plexiglass. There was no door, no nothing. How had she even ended up over there and in this Godforsaken trial? I knew she hadn’t signed up for it. If she had, I would have taken her place.

Each gasp of air she took, I was rooting for her. It looked like she was going to make it. Yes. I took in a deep breath freely and told myself to calm down.

Right when I thought she had her breathing and treading of the water under control, I saw her go under again.

“Oh no…don’t…please,” I said to myself. She was fighting for her life, and she didn’t know I could see her but couldn’t help her. She was all alone, and I knew she could feel that anchor pulling her down.

“This is too painful to watch,” I said to no one. Who would want to watch and remember their own mortality? Who would listen?

I turned away from the struggle, convincing myself the experts knew what they were doing by putting her in her box.

Come on, think or do something…anything so that you don’t have to think about what is really going on here. But that only worked for a little while.

I looked back toward the surface of the water. Nothing. No ripples. No movement. I looked down at my watch. This was longer than last time. What was she even doing?

I got mad because I just wanted this all to be over with so we could move on.

“Why is she taking so long to do this?” I said to myself…or to the labcoats…I’m not sure.

“This is normal procedure,” one replied. “We’ve got this handled. Just take a break. Sometimes it is harder on those watching than the ones going through it. Go get yourself a cup of coffee, have a break, and in a few hours, come back. She should be done by then.”

Stepping back with one foot while my head seemed to follow, I struggled to find a balance between what they were telling me and what I was seeing with my eyes. Torn between believing her or believing them. Who did I believe? Could she survive this?

Splash!

We all simultaneously turned our eyes toward the tank again to see a fountain of water gushing up into the air as she burst past the surface of the water barrier. I could see her frantically fighting to push the water down with both of her arms as she was gasping big gulps of air before immediately sinking into the water’s tomb again.

I placed both my hands on my shaking head, trying to hold my thoughts in so they would be clearer to me.

One of the well-meaning lab specialists placed his hand on the middle of my back, directing my body toward the door. I vaguely heard him giving instructions on where I could find a good cup of coffee and to come back again in a few hours.

Numb...I did as I was told.

Once I had my cup of coffee, I found myself wandering around outside. Off in the nearby distance, I could see a little courtyard with a bench surrounded by gravel, a few trees, and a handful of garden beds in full bloom. As I approached the entrance, I passed a placard that said,

“Rest well, your loved ones are in good hands. The Center for Chronic Fatigue Brain Retraining”

I sat down and took another sip of my coffee, its heat fighting to escape the paper container it was poured into. My thoughts returned to my wife, the tank, and her fight. I breathed in the fresh flower-scented air and held my breath. When I couldn’t hold it any longer, I sighed it out and looked at the half-full cup of coffee in my hand.

Looking away from the cup, I held it out and dumped it into the gravel. It had lost all its taste to me.