Dark Beach (14 page)

One arm around her shivering body, he pedaled desperately with his legs and used the other arm to prop her head up above the water. The water was the killer. The force of the waves crashed against his face as he fought hard, kicked hard, and swam for their lives. He was well muscled and tough, but in all his years as a fisherman he’d never actually had to get in the water, despite practicing rescues many times. He’d witnessed his father rescue a mate once, but that was many years ago, and the guy had at least been conscious.

Was it too late?
He was almost to the boat, but it seemed to be moving away from him as he swam. Kurt cried out in frustration.

Just go! Just get there.
He was beginning to tire. His arms felt numb, his legs even number. Where they still even moving?
Kick! Fight!
said his brain, but even it couldn’t tell what his body was doing.

“Almost Kurt, almost,” he said aloud.

Reaching out, he grasped the rope ladder with one hand, holding Jenny by her life vest and barely able to keeping her upright. The rope ladder, flimsy beneath them, sagged against the side of the boat, making the challenge that much worse.

“Piece of ..
.” Kurt didn’t realize how useless it would be when he bought the damn thing. “Christ almighty.”

The mid-ship ledge was just within reach when his fingers gave way, and so did his feet. They both plunged back into the icy ocean. Jenny bobbed off again. Kurt just felt numb.

***

Molly settled Kip on the couch and flicked over to a children’s program on cable, and then hobbled over to examine the lantern on the counter.

“Quaint. Must be new.” She had certainly never noticed it in the house before.

Taking her time, she fixed them both a glass of milk. The beach house was always a nice spot to stay awhile.
Since Gerry had moved to Busy Bee Meadows, Molly’s “quick” visits had often turned into hours whenever she wanted to watch a little news or a movie. She couldn’t afford cable at home. Sewing and knitting kept her busy enough, but they were both getting harder now, what with the arthritis. She took Kip’s glass over to her and set it down on the coffee table, and then stood there a moment, head cocked. There was something she was supposed to do, someone she should call. Making her way back to the kitchen bench, she ferreted in her handbag for a reminder. That’s right. She had written a note.
Ring Ron,
said her own spidery handwriting on a piece of pink notepaper.

She looked at the number carefully, holding the paper out away from her; her eyesight wasn’t that good anymore. “Is that a one? Or a seven? I think it’s a seven. My handwriting gets worse every day.” She looked around the beach house for the phone. She was sure there was one, but she couldn’t find it in any of the obvious places. She shrugged. Gerry had probably had the landline disconnected when she left. Since Gerry had been taken to Busy Bee Meadows, Molly had had no occasion to ring the house. Noticing a slim silver cell phone on the counter, she hobbled over and picked it up. She pressed a button. The screen flashed momentarily and then went dead. Molly sighed. She never had learned how to use a cell anyway, and there didn’t seem much point doing it now. She must remember to tell Jenny when she returned.
Ring Ron,
she committed it to her failing memory.
Ring Ron.

* * *

The red rescue helicopter hovered above them, lowering a metal basket while a rescue swimmer dove into the water and swam to Jenny first. He slid her carefully into the basket, and then assisted Kurt. At his thumbs up signal, they began the ascent to the helicopter.

“No! Stop!” Kurt shouted, shivering violently. “I’m not going. I’m not leaving my boat. Put me back on my boat!”

“Sir, you are hypothermic. You need treatment. We’ll send someone for your boat.” The rescuer tried to calm him down.

“I’m not going. Put me back on the
Retty
.”

Kurt tried to climb out of the basket, causing it to rock back and forth.

“Sir, you need to stay still or the entire basket may tip over.”

Kurt, too confused, didn’t stop. The rescuer grabbed him, trying to hold him down.

“Get me out of here!” Kurt flailed about.

“Calm down, calm down.” They struggled, but Kurt was too strong. The basket tipped, dumping them all back into the ocean.

“Three in the water! Three in the water!” The copilot called.

The mechanic lowered the basket back to the ocean and frantically scanned the water again.

Their bright orange life vests brought them back to surface, and the rescue diver, shaken, continued with the rescue. One at a time, he hauled both Kurt and Jenny back into the basket and gave the mechanic another thumbs up.

“We have two survivors: a female in severe hypothermia, a male in moderate hypothermia—estimated arrival ten minutes.” The copilot radioed in after everyone was safe.

Jenny, drenched and pale, shook violently. They stripped her down, covered her in blankets and started an IV with warm fluids.

Kurt remained combative.

“He’s a big one. We gotta get him warmed up,” said the swimmer.

“Don’t touch me,” Kurt mumbled.

“We gotta live one here. Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck!” said Kurt, putting his clenched fists up.

“You hold him down,” said the swimmer, pointing at the mechanic. “I’ll do the rest. One. Two. Three.”

They got Kurt undressed by rolling him on his belly and had him under a warming blanket in less than two minutes. Kurt attempted a swipe here and there, but he was too disoriented to connect with his targets
. He continued to grumble about his boat and Jenny.

“Jenny? Is that your wife’s name?”

“I barely know her,” said Kurt. “She’s nuts.”

“Excuse me?” the swimmer said.

“—just my type.”

The swimmer watched Jenny
; she looked so peaceful now that her shaking had ceased. He knelt by her side. “Jenny, come on now. Can you open your eyes for me? Jenny, you’re on a helicopter. We are taking you to Ocean Point Medical Center.”

She moaned.

“Come on. That’s it—open your eyes for me.” The swimmer rubbed her cheek. “I know you’re in there.”

The helicopter landed, and the rescue crew transported the survivors on gurneys to the emergency room.

An overweight county nurse in puppy patterned scrubs took the report. “Now how many liters have they had?”

“500cc each. I just told you that,” said the rescue swimmer.

“And how long were they in the water for?”

“From the time the call went out to when we arrived, maybe seven minutes; the female, maybe longer.”

“But you said they fell in the water twice. How was that?”

The rescue swimmer rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Ma’am, as I said, we all fell out of the basket due to Kurt here in state of hypothermic confusion.”

“I want to know if my boat is in yet,” Kurt chimed in from the background.

“I think he can hear us. Can’t we do this somewhere else?” the swimmer asked.

The nurse tilted her head down, looking at him over the thick, multicolored rims of her glasses. “I think we’re done here. I have no more questions.”

“I need to make a phone call,” came a high-pitched, desperate-sounding demand.

“You’re awake.” The swimmer rushed to Jenny’s side.

She squinted, dazzled by his scarlet uniform. “Who are you? Where am I?” She yanked the white linen sheets up closer to her neck.

“You’re safe—in the hospital. I’m Jack. I’m with the Coast Guard. I helped you out of the water and brought you here.”

The nurse took her spot by Jenny’s head. “And my name is Betty. I’ll be your nurse while you’re in the ER.”

“ER?”

“You jumped off my boat. Don’t you remember?” Kurt, behind his own privacy stall in the bed next door, joined in.

The nurse left Jenny’s side and yanked Kurt’s curtain back. “Now you hush,” she whispered fiercely. “She’s just waking up. I’ll see to you next.”

Kurt folded his arms, in a huff.

“You’ll be okay now. The nurse is going to take good care of you,” said Jack.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You just need to get warm, get cozy, and get home,” said the swimmer, wondering why Kurt had claimed she was crazy. Cute as she was, she seemed normal.

“Thank you for rescuing me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen—all this.” Jenny put her head down.

“We never do. Things happen, and we deal with them the best we can. That’s all we can do, all we can hope for.”

The nurse, as grumpy and as tired as she was, tilted her
grey head as she listened to the swimmer’s words and then gave him a smile, probably the first he’d received all day.

“We gotta call coming in,” said the copilot. “Gotta run.”

“Right. Goodbye Jenny, and good luck to you.” Jack squeezed her hand. It felt warm now, at least.

“Bye, Jack.”

“You forgot about my boat!” Kurt shouted. He shook his head. “This place! I hate ERs.”

The ER was full. The occasional cough reverberated along the long, rectangular room, interrupting
the usual hum of aggravated or worried voices. Kurt’s own complaints went unnoticed. After the nurse assessed them, she returned to her admission procedures and ignored him.

“Now Jenny, your vital signs are stable, but we want to keep you here for another hour, just to make sure,” said Betty, undoing the blood pressure cuff.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m eleven weeks.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? I asked you about this earlier and you answered no.”

“Sorry.”

“We need to check, to make sure everything is okay in there. I’ll be right back.” The nurse grimaced and hurried off.

A very tall, thin doctor appeared and peered at her through horn-rimmed glasses. “I’m Doctor Johnson. I’m going to have some labs drawn. Have you had any cramping?”

“Slight.”

“I need to check your cervix. Nurse,” he called to Betty.

Kurt’s eyes widened.

“I’ll need a pelvic kit please. Jenny, I need you to scoot your bottom all the way down, please.”

Betty quickly whisked the curtain around the bed.

Doctor Johnson put Jenny’s feet into the metal stirrups. “I’m going to apply some gel, and it’s going to be cold.”

She heard Kurt groan and roll the other way in the bed next to hers.

“The speculum might feel a little uncomfortable.”

There was a clicking sound and Jenny moaned.

“Okay, your cervix is still closed; that’s good. Betty, the ultrasound.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Betty rolled it over.

He squeezed a blob of cold gel on her belly.

Jenny frowned as a mottled
grey and white image flickered on the screen.

“There’s a heartbeat.” The doctor pointed at a flash of blue and red. “The baby is fine. Everything looks good, but once you leave here, you need to go home and rest.”

“That’s it?” asked Jenny.

“You’re lucky. Very lucky. We need to calm that cramping down, but you’re not having contractions or anything like that.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

The doctor nodded and left.

“Is there anyone I can call to arrange for pick up?” asked the nurse.

“Um … My daughter is with the babysitter. I don’t know her number.”

“I’ll take her. Her car’s by my shop,” Kurt said from behind the curtain.

The nurse poked her head into Kurt’s stall. “You have someone who can pick you both up?”

“Yeah. I have a buddy or two. I just need the phone.”

The nurse passed it to him and he made arrangements.

“I need to call my husband. He doesn’t know I’m here,” said Jenny, troubled.

The nurse raised an eyebrow and gave them both a funny look.

“It’s not what you think,” said Jenny.

Kurt just smiled.

“I think I understand.” Betty’s expression grew haughty.

“I don’t know what to say to him. He’s going to be mad. I know it.”

“Here you go.” Betty handed her a phone. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You’re here now.”

Jenny dialed. It rang.

“Ron here.”

“Ron.”

“Oh my god, where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling your cell. I told what’s-her-name to tell you I called. I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m so sorry. What’s-her-name?”

“Mrs. Collington ... Cobbington. Are you okay?”

“Molly Coggington? She didn’t tell me, but yes, I am. I’m fine. My cell is missing, but I’ll find it when I get back.”