Strong Like the Sea, стр. 70
I turn for the shore, but Sarge cuts me off, splashing a line between me and the shore, then standing on his hind legs again, he wails, “Yipe, yipe, yipe!” Rapid and high, the pain in his voice rises almost like a human cry.
“My gosh, what? What is it?” I sling my bag over one shoulder and try to see his feet under the waves. Did he step on a blue bubble man-o’-war, or maybe a spiny urchin?
“Sarge, look at me. I’m right here. What’s the matter, boy?”
But he won’t look at me. His stare is fixed out on the waves as he opens his jaws, pants, and cries.
I follow his gaze and squint out at the bay. No surfers, or boarders, nothing at all—except for a lone kayak rocking violently in the waves far out over the reef. The tide must’ve swept Uncle’s kayak out this morning, or maybe—
The kayak is not empty.
Chicken skin erupts in icy pinpricks up my scalp as my heart skips in fear—already knowing what my brain refuses to believe.
It’s him.
Slumped forward in his seat, Uncle leans to one side, his arm dangling limp in the water.
“Uncle!” The scream rips from my throat. “Uncle! Wake up!”
Sarge howls.
I look over my shoulder as Auntie runs from the lanai, her face paling at my scream. “Uncle’s in trouble! Call for help!”
She starts forward as if to go after him herself, but with her fancy skirts dragging her down, she’ll never make it in time.
She can’t help him—but I can.
I wave my arms fast across my body and shake my head. “I’ll get him. I’ll bring him back. You get help!”
I don’t wait to see if she listens.
The backpack with my models and pages falls forgotten into the tide as water splashes up to my chest.
I bolt for the ocean. How far is the reef? Fifty feet? Closer? A wave breaks over my face and I swim with long strokes, my feet kicking hard. A shadow passes below and the water temperature changes, a swirl of cold and warm at once. The current shifts too, the waves wrong—same as last time I fell into the eel hole.
Arms churning, I cross over the wide circle of sand below, my breath coming in gasps, but I don’t stop. It’s wider than I thought before. More than three swimming pools at least. Loads of space for something big to come find me.
I force my body to keep swimming as panic crawls up my throat and reaches with thick, clawed fingers to cage my heart. With every stroke, the wide black reef on the far side looms closer, the sharp coral waiting like a bear trap for me to step inside. And it is a trap, isn’t it? Why else would Ocean mock me with Uncle as bait?
With my heart beating a frantic stutter against the tight bands around it, I slow and bob in the waves, looking for Uncle. What if I went the wrong way? What if I only thought I saw him?
Something inside me screams that if I cross that black line, I’ll never make it to shore again. I’ll die! Something dark and frightening hides in the reef, a vengeful power in league with the ocean. It waits to destroy me like it tried to do before—and I’ve jumped right in! What was I thinking?
I can’t do this, I can’t!
“Auntie! Uncle!” Waves rush into my mouth and I choke. Impossible to call for help. I spit saltwater and gasp for air, but wave after wave engulfs my face and presses against my lips. It won’t let me breathe!
A swell catches me, lifting me high enough to see another flash of Uncle’s kayak before shoving me down into the trough as a second wave rolls me backwards into the eel hole. Bubbles swoosh around my face, but not enough to block the shadow of the thing moving through the water.
Big and dark, a dragon from a cave, it separates itself from the murky black of the reef and closes the distance. A shadow of memory from my nightmares, sweeping right toward me.
The eel. The viper moray, coming for me again. I must be, I must . . .
I open my mouth to scream and water floods in. I kick against the horrid current of the eel hole and reach for shore, but the dark shape turns with me, gliding around me once before breaking the surface.
In my blind panic, a glimpse is all I get, a circle of gray set in a dark eye, a flipper, a tail, scales . . . and the double bump of Saisei’s shell.
My relief is so sudden I go limp and start to sink, then scramble to tread water again.
Saisei, Uncle’s friend, his companion—maybe his guide. Of all the creatures of the sea, this honu, this green sea turtle who owes her life to Uncle, has my absolute trust.
She rolls to the side and dives, swimming beneath me with elegant flaps as if to show there’s nothing to fear. She swims as if flying, free and fearless here in the sea. What harm could the reef do? She’s survived so much worse already, and none of it was from the ocean.
Gathering courage from my shelled friend, I search for Uncle’s kayak. What had my panic attack cost him? A minute? Two? Anger and shame burn the last of my fear away. If he dies because I was busy thrashing in fright—
No! He’s not dead. He can’t be.
I grit my teeth and scan the waves again.
Don’t fall out, Uncle. Please, please, don’t let him drown!
There! A flash of color far ahead between the waves and then gone again, but it’s enough. I strike for that spot of hope and swim harder than ever before.
The top of my foot cracks against something sharp, and I flatten out my