The Ripple Effect

This was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. Now mom’s body is sinking. 

The lake ripples and the perfect circles are getting bigger and bigger. Her open eyes aren’t staring back at me anymore, I can only see her hair growing up towards me like seaweed - it looks green and slimy. I try grabbing it to pull her back onto the boat, but it slips right between my fingers. Soon I won’t even be able to see her shadow; the lake is so deep - we tossed the anchor down, and it took all the rope tied to it. Deep. I wonder what kind of fish she’ll live with down there. 

Big tears are falling down my face as fast as she is sinking to somewhere scary. I’m screaming for help, but the shore is so far no one will hear. The trees look like little bushes from way out here. I want to paddle back and get help, but I can’t leave mom here alone; I’d never find her again. 

A big burly looking man rented us a fishing boat for the day. We had three hours until our time expired. I’m sure it’s been longer than that because the sun is almost making friends with the water. Maybe the boat man will come looking for us, I hope so, I really need a friend right now. I’m tempted to dive and blow out all my air to sink into the deep with her.

Boat Man should have come with us. If he did, nothing bad would have happened. He was strong, his arms were almost as big as my body. I would have screamed help, and he would have pulled her back onto the boat. Boat Man would have wrapped her bleeding head in his t-shirt. We would have sped back to the docks, nose of the boat up and waves crashing into our faces, washing away the slowly caking blood on our hands. We would have rushed to the hospital, and mom would still be here for me to hold her hand. But, she's not here, and I wish I was with her. 

Earlier the lake was cool, refreshing. Now the sun is hiding; the darkness reminds me of the black holes Mrs. Robinson taught us in science class. A black hole is formed when a big star explodes at the end of its life. Mom was my star, and now her life has ended. There’s no light from buildings or cars, there’s no noise, I imagine I’m floating like an astronaut in outer space. This is easy, the universe has no end, I could explore forever. I paddle my arms like they do in the movies pretending I’m swimming in zero gravity. Now my legs are going. I’m moving full speed ahead and laughing too. I can feel how tight my skin has gotten from dried tears. Then the boat jerks sideways, and suddenly I’m being sucked into the black hole. 

It’s dark, my bones feel frozen, like pins and needles. One time mom was sewing a hole in my sweater, and she poked me with the needle by accident. My whole body hurts like my arm did then. Panic is rising from my belly, it comes out in a soundless scream. The silence scares me, and cold is now being sucked into my mouth. I am the black hole. All the water I’m surrounded by is pulled towards me - into me. This is what drowning feels like. Which way is up? I kick my legs wildly until my head comes to the top, I see stars again. I hook my hands up onto the sides of the boat and swing my leg up over the side before my hands get the chance to slip off. I hang there until I catch my breath, flopping onto the deck. 

My heart slows down, finally reaching a normal beat. I close my eyes, as my mind replays today. 

… 

“Ryley, let’s go! I don’t wanna be late.” 

“I’m coming.” I skip down the stairs to mom, waiting for me in the kitchen, fishing poles in hand. 

She pokes at my belly, “you slowpoke, you’re making us late,” and I’m laughing so hard my bag falls to the floor. “Come on, sweetie.”

It was a short drive from our house at one end of Fort Laume to the harbour at the other, and we’d only be gone for the day, but the trunk is overflowing.

As we roll into the parking lot, the lake grows big, all you can see is blue forever and ever. The sun is shining, and I know the first thing mom will do is slather sticky sunscreen all over my face. I hoist the cooler on to my shoulder and tip over sideways. I may have packed one too many snacks. 

“Why don’t you wait over there on the docks while I pay for the boat. I’ll be right over there if you need me,” she says, pointing towards a man in a blue shirt who’s as big as a sumo wrestler. 

“Okay.” 

I dip my toes into the big blue pool and feel a minnow start nibbling. He swims in and out through my toes, tickling each one as he goes by. I watch him curiously making bets on which toes he’ll swim through next. 

By noon mom and I are out in the “best spot,” according to the man who rented us the fishing boat. He must’ve been right because one after the other, we continue catching fish. Bass. Trout. Salmon. Of course, we don’t keep them, that would be murder. I only like the excitement of pulling the hooks out and feeling their mouth suction cup onto my fingers. It reminds me of how Auntie Sharon kisses hello. 

Mom's back starts to hurt after twenty fish, and we decide to jump in the water and take a break. I cannonball, and my lifejacket shoots upwards to smack me in the face. Mom jumps in after dunking me with a splash. The water feels good on my skin, I have a sudden urge to drink it.

I don’t notice how far out I’ve gone out until mom shouts, “not too far, sweetie, stay close to the boat.” 

“Okay,” I shout back. “Mom, I'm hungry, can we have lunch soon?”

“I was just about to say the same thing. My stomach’s growling louder than a grizzly bear,” she says, while climbing up the step ladder. 

“Well, guess what, mom? Mines thundering louder than… well, thunder.” She laughs and waves two bottles of root beer in the air. 

I’m paddling back towards the boat when, in the span of a second, I hear two horrible sounds: glass shattering followed immediately by a sickening crack. 

I was too slow… and by the time I reached the boat, it was too late.