The Year I Almost Drowned (12 page)

He’d

play

him

all

the

time.

Drove

me

crazy.”

“So why are you playing him then?” I was trying to ignore him but he just kept on

talking,

trying

to

engage

me.

It

was

unnerving.

He moved closer to me and sat down. His expression was reflective. “I guess

because he died over there, and this makes me think of him.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. It was so incredibly sad. He talked about loss

like it was an everyday occurrence. Maybe he had seen so much death that he

was

desensitized

to

it?

“I’m sorry.” And I meant it in more ways than one. Sorry that he had to see his

friend die. Sorry that he was able to say it like it was something everyone had

gone through. Not me. I hadn’t seen death. I grew up thinking my father was

dead, but I didn’t see it happen. Experiencing it firsthand like Jesse and Everett

had, that’s different. That strikes you down and changes you. No, that hadn’t

happened

to

me

and

I

dreaded

the

day

when

it

would.

“Don’t be. This music... it’s a good memory of him,” he said and was quiet for a

minute. “So, can we be friends, or are you going to hold this ticket against me for

the

rest

of

my

life?”

“I guess so.” How could I say no? He was making it awfully difficult.

“You

guess?”

he

said

incredulously.

“Yes,”

I

relented.

He smiled and the lines around his caramel eyes creased. When I looked into

them, I could see the difference in our age. He was older than me, but his eyes,

they showed so much more life–pain, death, sorrow, all of it. I sensed that our

gap

in

age

was

in

all

aspects

of

life.

“Good. Let’s start over. My name is Everett Bennett.” He extended his hand, and

I

couldn’t

do

anything

but

shake

it.

His

grip

was

firm.

“I’m

Finn

Hemmings.

But

you

already

knew

that.”

“No I didn’t. I thought you went by Finley. That’s what’s on your driver’s license.”

“I

go

by

Finn,”

I

corrected

him.

“Well,

Finn,

it’s

nice

to

meet

you.”

“You,

too.”

And

like

that,

we

became

friends.

***

For some reason, I was really tired when I got home. Maybe the dark wintery

days were getting to me. Winters in Florida equated to breezy sunny days that

never required a heavy coat. Day after day of dark, cloudy skies were depressing.

Some of the feelings of gloom could have been attributed to the fact that within a

matter of weeks, I’d be moving to Georgia to start the next chapter in my life:

college.

And

I

would

be

doing

that

on

my

own.

We sat around the dinner table. Nana had made another “healthy” meal, which

meant no salt, butter, grease, or flavor. Grandpa hated these types of meals, but

he never told her. He’d eat them without muttering one complaint. And then I was

the guilty one for allowing him to eat greasy, buttery, comfort food at the diner.

Not that it was my choice in the matter. It would have been a losing battle anyway.

When he wanted to do something, he just did it. No one could stand in his way.

“Finn, a girl named Sidney called. She said she’s your roommate at Harrison.

Quite

the

perky,

chatty

thing,”

Nana

said.

“What’d

she

say?”

I

asked.

“She blathered on about a bunch of things. She said for you to call her. I wrote

her name and number down next to the phone in the library.”

“I

guess

I

better

call

her

back.”

“You

don’t

sound

too

excited

about

it,”

she

said.

“I’m just tired,” I lied. It was too real. In a few weeks, I’d be gone. Away from it all.

Away from them. Away from Jesse. I didn’t know how to feel about it. I didn’t want

to

face

it.

“Jesse’s

graduation

is

tomorrow.”

“Yes.

Are

you

both

still

going

with

me?”

I

asked.

“We

wouldn’t

miss

it

for

the

world.”

***

I called Sidney, my new roommate. She had a bubbly, high-pitched voice that

squeaked

every

now

and

again.

“Hey, Finley.” Her accent was northeastern, which was a different sound than

what

I

had

been

hearing

for

six

months.

“Hi, Sidney. I go by Finn,” I said with an upbeat tone, trying not to sound like I was

correcting

her.

“Oh sorry,” she said and then gushed, “I can’t wait to meet you! I owe you so big

you

know.”

“For

what?”

“Um, because you basically gave me my own room for one semester. All the other

girls in the hall were so jealous. I just told them to kiss it, know what I mean?”

“Yeah,”

I

said,

just

for

the

sake

of

saying

something.

“Anyway, I’ve got a microwave and refrigerator. You won’t need to bring those.

I’ve pretty much got everything. I mean, you’ll need your own bedding and

personal stuff, but other than that, it’s all here. I can’t wait to meet you! I mean it’s

been great having my room to myself but it gets lonely, know what I mean?” she

said.

She said all that in one breath. I felt worn out, and I hadn’t even met her yet. “I

can

imagine,”

I

answered.

“We’re going to get along great! I can tell. Let’s plan to go out for lunch when you

move

in,

k

Finley?

I

mean

Finn.”

She

squeaked.

“That’d be great,” I answered her, trying to sound enthusiastic. I didn’t want to be

rude.

She

was

being

so

nice.

“Awesome.

See

ya

soon.”

“Bye, Sidney.” I hung up the phone and let out one, long drawn out breath.

***

There were nine graduates. Nine. Poor Stench had dropped out the last week of

school. Jesse said it broke his heart when Stench quit. He said that he and Noah

tried to persuade him to stick it out, but he didn’t have the resolve. According to

Jesse, one of his instructors was relentlessly cruel and had targeted Stench from

day one because he was clumsy, not very athletic, and way too sensitive. Jesse

said the instructor had Stench in tears the last day Stench was in school. That

was Stench’s breaking point. It really messed Jesse up. Jesse was tough, one of

the strongest people I knew, but he was a sensitive guy, and he hated to see

other people mistreated. That’s what I loved most about him.

The ceremony was quick and to the point. Each graduate dressed in black pants

and a red button down long sleeved shirt with the Greenville Firefighting Academy

logo embroidered on the left hand side–close to the heart. Greenville was the

closest major city to Graceville and the only city within miles that had a firefighting

academy.

My grandparents stood and cheered for Jesse. They were so proud. Seeing them

react that way really affected me. I couldn’t stop crying, which was really

embarrassing. I was emotional for a number of reasons. I was so happy for Jesse,

so proud of him for what he had accomplished. I was fearful of imminent change

and knew that this was evidence that things were never going to be the same.

And sitting next to my grandparents and watching their reaction, made me realize

what I had missed growing up and it was heartbreaking. That’s what I had

wanted–my grandparents and dad to sit in the audience cheering loudly for me.

For a brief moment, I allowed that feeling of loss to fall over me. Knowing it was

Jesse’s day and not wanting to ruin it, I got a hold of myself and congratulated

him with as much enthusiasm as they did. Nana took several pictures. Some of

Jesse alone. Some with Jesse and me. Others with Jesse and my grandfather.

And a few with Jesse and Nana. I asked a student to take some pictures of the

four

of

us.

Jesse was so happy. I could see how proud he was, how accomplished he felt.

He looked older, more mature, like a man. Jesse was really never a boy, but

seeing him standing there with his uniform on, ready to embark on one of the

most dangerous, heroic jobs in the world and showing no fear, it had made him

a

man.

We went out to dinner. My grandparents insisted on taking Jesse out to celebrate.

It was their gift to him. Hank didn’t show up for the graduation. Jesse hadn’t

spoken to him in weeks. They were still estranged. It made me feel sad for both

of them, especially Jesse. It had to hurt him even if he had decided he was

severing his relationship with his father. But it still had to hurt to not have him

there on one of the most important days in his life. His father knew he was

graduating, too. He knew. He just chose not to come. I had heard that he got

another job, but he was still drinking his nights away. I don’t know who he got to

pick him up in the middle of the night at bars because it wasn’t Jesse anymore.

After dinner, we went back to my grandparents’ house for dessert. Nana made

Jesse’s favorite–apple pie. Even my grandfather was allowed to have a slice.

Nana said on this occasion, she’d make one exception. I didn’t tell her that he

snuck a slice here and there on days we worked together. No one could resist

her pies. I only hoped to make pies as good as her one day. She had been

teaching me, giving me instructions in the kitchen, and I managed to make a few

decent

pies.

But

they

were

never

as

good

as

hers.

With full stomachs from finishing off the rest of the pie, we sat around the dinner

table listening to my grandfather tell stories. He was a gifted storyteller. They

were always entertaining and descriptive. I could always picture myself right there

with

him

in

the

midst

of

his

shenanigans.

He told us the story about the night he and Nana eloped. “Lilly had to climb out

of her two story window and use a rope I had given to her. The rope was too thin

and it snapped, causing her to hit the ground from the second story of her house.

Luckily she wasn’t hurt, just a little scuffed up and dirty from the wet grass,” he

said and chuckled. “We drove off in my old Plymouth and didn’t make it very far.

The car battery died on our way to the Justice of the Peace. We had to hitchhike

in the middle of the night, and we were out in the countryside. The only ride that

we were offered was by a pig farmer who stank like manure.” We all laughed and

he continued. “By the time we reached the Justice of the Peace, we smelled, and

Lilly was filthy from the fall. The ceremony didn’t go off without a hitch, either.

They had a water pipe burst and the ceiling caved. Buckets of water fell on top of

us just as the minister gave his blessing. With all that happened, you’d think we

would have taken it as some type of sign, but we didn’t. I don’t believe in stupid

superstitions anyway. Now our honeymoon, we won’t tell you about that. That’s

a

story

for

another

time.”

We all laughed. The mood was upbeat and happy. I wanted it to stay that way

forever.

But

somehow

I

knew

it

wouldn’t.

“So

you

passed

your

state

boards?”

Grandpa

asked

Jesse.

“Yes sir. Earlier this week. Now I just need to get a job,” he answered.

“Any

prospects?”

Grandpa

asked.

“I’ve

got

an

interview

in

Hendersonville

in

a

few

days.”

“Hendersonville?” I said. That was in North Carolina, which was even further