Under Water

I’ve always had difficulty waking up after a long night’s sleep. My father used to try to get me up in the morning by telling me that I was Sleeping Beauty without the beauty or that I could be Sleepy, the dwarf from Snow White if I were a little taller. He thought he was funny; I wasn’t amused.

I lay there, eyes closed as I gradually became aware of my surroundings. Somewhere in this normally slow process, I realized that it was pitch black. My room was never pitch black, what with my alarm clock (yes, I’m old school) and my cell phone charger and the lights on my air cleaner. Come to think of it, I couldn’t hear the air cleaner. And then I realized that I was cold. And wet. Very wet.

I opened my eyes, wondering if maybe I was still dreaming, but I was clearly awake and, I realized, I was lying on something hard, not my bed. And I was surrounded by water. In the dark. I realized that my head was throbbing. I reached up and touched the side of my head. The pain increased. What was going on?

I tried to get up, but my head hit something above me and I dropped into the cold water before pulling myself back up onto whatever perch I’d been lying on. I listened carefully to the surrounding sounds. It reminded me a bit of the sound of a hard rain hitting the side of the house, but this was much louder. It sounded like somebody was throwing shovels full of dirt at the house. And the loud roar, perhaps an engine of some gigantic machine?

I realized that the water was rising. I pulled myself up farther onto the headboard and tried to figure out what was above my head. It was smooth, like a wall, but why would it be over my head? I tried to switch the light on from my Fitbit, but it wasn’t working. Feeling around myself in the dark, I realized that I was lying on my headboard. I touched something soft and soggy. One of my pillows? What had happened? And where did all the water come from?

And then the thought struck me. I was in a coffin, being buried alive.

I began screaming and pounding on the surface above me, but the sounds and the darkness persisted. And the water continued rising.

I tried to keep my head above water, panicking as the pocket of air shrunk over my head.

Then I heard it. The baby, crying somewhere in the distance. I turned my head toward the sound and reached out in that direction, expecting to feel the side of my coffin, but my hand just moved through the water. I reached over to the other direction with the same result. Okay. I wasn’t in a coffin after all. Then where was I? I reached up again and found that whatever was over my head had softened in the water. I punched at it and found it crumbling. My hopes rose as I thought I’d found a way out of my predicament. I pulled some more pieces out and reached through the hole, only to find smooth wooden barrier. It registered that what was over my head was the ceiling or maybe a wall of my bedroom. If it was a wall, there would be a window somewhere above me. If it was the ceiling, then the window would be underwater somewhere. If only I could find it somehow in the blackness, maybe I could find my way out of my dilemma.

And then I heard it again. I turned my head towards the baby’s cry and wondered why there was a baby in my tiny beach house. I carefully worked my way towards the muffled sound, feeling the surface overhead as I went. I felt something wet wrap around my legs and reached down to pull it off. I realized that it was one of the curtains from the window near my bed, so I pulled on it, dragging myself towards where I hoped the window might be.

The pocket of air was a little bigger in the space by the window, but the water was still rising. The air space wouldn’t be there for long. I felt the dripping water coming from around the window frame and realized that there must be water overhead and that once I opened the window, it would rush in. I wouldn’t have much time to get through the window and, hopefully, to the surface and try to figure out what was going on. So I could die here slowly or I could take a chance and maybe die more quickly. Big choice. The baby let out a cry that I could hear above my head. If there was a baby crying, there must be air. I filled my lungs with air and flipped the latches to the window and slid it open.

The sudden rushing of water into my sideways bedroom pushed me down into the water, disorienting me as I fought with floating blankets and pillows and clothing. As the current lessened, I kicked up towards where I hoped the window was. In the dark, I had to follow the current. Which stopped as the room filled. I wasn’t even sure which way was up, but I finally felt the curtain and pulled my way back to the opening. I thought my lungs would burst as I pulled myself through the window and tried to follow the baby’s voice.

Just a few feet away, I discovered another opening and kicked my way towards the surface in the dark. Fortunately, my head broke the surface before my air gave out. I still couldn’t see a thing, but I worked my way through the dark water towards the baby’s slowly weakening cries. I felt my way through what appeared to be a hallway on its side. I walked along the wall until I felt the opening to a room above me. I grabbed ahold of the door frame and pulled myself into the darkness, praying that the baby would cry out again. I sat on the edge of the doorframe listening, straining to hear the slightest sound. I debated whether I should just wander around the room and hope for the best when I heard a whimper just behind me.

As I reached back, searching with my hands for the infant, the building shuddered. I realized that my feet were now back in the water, which was still rising. I felt a piece of cloth and pulled it towards me, hoping that it was the edge of the baby’s pajamas, but it appeared to be the sheet on a crib mattress, I pulled it towards me and reached out again. This time I felt a small leg. I carefully pulled the baby towards me and heard a loud scream of pain. I crawled over and picked up the child, being careful of the leg which I hadn’t been aware had been broken whenever the structure had tipped over. I still couldn’t understand how that had happened, but at the moment it didn’t really matter. I needed to get us out of there. I called out, hoping that the baby’s parents might be around, but I received no answer. I dropped the crib mattress into the water below me and carefully laid the now bawling baby onto it. Being lined with plastic, I hoped it would float for a while.

I slipped into the water next to the mattress and worked my way back towards the opening of the hallway. I noticed that it was no longer pitch black, and while I couldn’t even really see the baby on the mattress, I could see some light coming from the sky above me. It appeared that a door was open about fifteen above me. That could explain why I was still wet. I could see that there were a couple of other rooms on either side of the doorway, but I couldn’t reach them either. My only hope was if the water rose enough that I could reach the doorway.

And then what?

I had no idea.

Judging by the way the sky was slowly lightening, I figured that we’d been floating in that hallway for a couple of hours and we were still six feet away from the opening. The baby was sleeping, though he (she?) would occasionally whimper and scrunch up its face. The water level was waning, as were my hopes that we’d ever escape. I could barely feel my hands and feet and I was shivering uncontrollably. The baby was barely breathing, As the water receded, we soon found ourselves back at the level where I had found the baby. I saw the parents floating in the hallway. I looked over at the poor orphan who had saved my life with its cries. It was clear as the water receded that this house was now resting on mine. The door through which I had entered was centered over my bedroom window. If it weren’t for that coincidence, I might have died down there. I looked over at the sleeping baby and wondered how such a tiny thing could have made enough noise for me to hear. I guessed that breaking its leg when the house tipped over was very painful.

I was trying to figure out how we could get out of the house when I heard a helicopter overhead. There was a loud thump on the roof–or the front of the house, actually–and a voice called out. I glanced up at the face staring down at me.

“Need some help?” The man in the camouflage outfit was smiling as he was lowered down into the house on a lifeline by his buddies. He had them lower a basket of some sort and strapped the baby in and watched as they pulled it up. “I noticed the bodies in that hallway up there. Any idea who they are?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “The baby’s parents, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I never saw them before. I guess they must have rented the place next door.”

He looked at me funny. I pointed to the open window below us, just visible in the muddy water below us. “That’s my house. I don’t know how it got there or how this house ended up on top of mine.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Not a clue.”

He took my chin in his hand and turned my head so he could get a better look at my head in the semi-darkness. “You hit your head pretty hard. Were you unconscious at all?”

“All I know is I woke up, and it was pitch black and I was in the water. I thought I was going to die. Then I heard the baby. I followed the crying and found the baby.”

They lowered the basket back down to us and the soldier made me strap in and then yanked the line twice. I was raised up and placed on the side of the house and unstrapped. A medic had already put some kind of splint on the baby and was giving it water, but the baby was crying softly as it drank. To my surprise, the medic handed me the baby, wrapped in an oversized blanket. “Keep him drinking. The pain meds are kicking in and we’ll get that leg set as soon as we can.”

I started to explain that the baby wasn’t mine, but stopped as I looked at him. I felt responsible for him. He had saved my life. And I had returned the favor. We belonged together. At least for now.

I held the bundle close as I looked around the tiny cottage we were sitting on and watched the helicopter return to pick us up. The medic finished bandaging my head and we were lifted into the chopper. I looked out the window at the devastation below.

Strange. I had no recollection of what had happened, but I did remember that I used to live just a block from the ocean. Now my house is under a house in the ocean. Maybe it was time to move.