Skyla passed me a paddle. “Don’t worry. I have enough for both of us.”
After we launched our kayaks and paddled to an open area away from the dock, Skyla instructed me on basic techniques. I adapted quickly, but then she said I had to learn to roll, which involved immersing my entire body into the frigid Alaskan waters. Here in Resurrection Bay, glaciers melted into the flow; kayaking in it equated to paddling in a glass of liquid ice. A wetsuit could only go so far in this situation.
“Do I have to?” I whined.
Skyla smacked her paddle on the surface and sent an icy splash over me. I shrieked and splashed her back. “Come on, Mundy,” she said. “Time for a dunk. Do it fast—like tearing off a Band-Aid.” Skyla squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and executed a perfect demonstration of something she called a Pawlata roll. She came up wet and as sleek as a seal.
“I have a feeling that’s a lot harder than you make it look.”
“Practice makes perfect. Now roll, Mundy, before I make you roll.”
I sighed, took a breath, and shifted my weight. Skyla had explained the process and demonstrated the technique, but the moment my body plunged into the frigid water, all her instruction vanished. My breath dispersed. Shock inhibited my coordination. I fought to find the correct grasp on my paddle while the cold sapped my strength.
Where was Skyla? Why wasn’t she helping? My arm muscles burned, my lungs turned to shrunken prunes, and panic screamed in my ear, ordering me to submit. But Skyla’s voice rose above the din: “If all else fails,” she had told me, “just climb out. You’ll have a bitch of a time getting back in the boat, but you probably won’t drown.”
Seizing upon Skyla’s advice, I yanked my skirting free and floated away from the kayak. The moment I bobbed to the surface, I sucked in a glorious breath, and then another, and another, almost to the point of hyperventilation. Skyla paddled close and helped me flip my kayak. Then she held my boat steady as I fought my way onto the stern and scooted into the cockpit—deep water reentry, another necessary skill Skyla insisted I had to master. She patted my back. “You gonna be all right?”
I glared at her and tried to convey murderous intentions. “I… a-almost… drowned.”
“But you didn’t. You saved yourself. It’s important you know that, know what you’re capable of.”
Still panting, I said, “Y-you were just… going… to watch. No help.”
Skyla jerked her chin up and peered at me through narrowed eyes. “That’s not how you learn.” She paddled a circle around me and then stopped and faced me again. “I wouldn’t have let you drown. But I knew you would save yourself before it came to that.”
“How could you be sure? I wasn’t sure.”
Skyla shrugged. “You might not be as brazen as me, but you got guts. Girls with guts don’t drown. We keep our heads above water, and we survive.”
“What are you?” I asked. “An ex-drill sergeant or something?” Skyla’s girl-power speech worked; I felt less like knocking out her teeth and more like giving her a salute.
“Marine,” Skyla said. “Four years—enlisted right out of high school.”
“Are you kidding?”
Skyla drew the tip of her paddle across the surface, making little swirls in the green water. “No. I got out at the end of my tour. Went to Afghanistan. Had mixed feelings about the potential of my career path in the long run. Decided I couldn’t do a job half-assed and declined their offer to reenlist. I came here the day they signed my discharge papers.”
The more I thought about her as a marine, the more it made sense. “I pegged you as a dissident type at first.”
Skyla grimaced. “Well, I can’t say I was in love with the routine and authority. It was another reason I didn’t go career. I probably would have been low ranking my whole life because I would never be willing to kiss the right ass.”
Skyla and I had little in common beyond our dedication to Mani, but I should never have underestimated the value of that common interest. “Thanks, Skyla.”
Skyla shook her head, not understanding. “For what?”
“For all of this.” I motioned to the water and the kayaks. “For loving Mani and for helping me.”
Skyla rolled her eyes and paddled backward. “Don’t get all sappy on me. We’ve got more practicing to do. You’re going to learn to do that roll like second nature before we leave here today.”
By the time Skyla was satisfied that I could hold my own in the open waters, I was frozen, exhausted, and starving. After I helped her stow the boats, we trekked uphill to the store on wobbly legs. Needless to say, I lacked the enthusiasm to deal with Val and Thorin when they met us in the employee lounge.
“You looked pretty good out there,” Val said.
I blanched. “You were watching? I didn’t even see you.”
“I’m like a ninja that way.”
“Miss Mundy,” Thorin said, “I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out if you’re going to accompany Skyla. For insurance purposes, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” I said. “Of course. And let me know how much the fees are. I brought my wallet.” I hadn’t considered the administrative aspects of my last-minute excursion.
“I’m not going to charge you,” Thorin said, “unless something happens to my equipment.”
“That’s very generous. Thank you.”
Thorin waved, dismissing my thanks. “I’ll have the forms at the counter for you to sign. Have a good time, but please be careful. This trip is for experienced kayakers. It would be bad press for my business if something happened to you.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he strode away.
“Is he always so warm and cuddly?” I asked, reaching for my bag of dry clothes.
“I’m warm and cuddly,” Val said. He draped a towel over my shoulders. “But you are cold and smell like a fish. The wetsuit is a nice fashion statement, don’t get me wrong, but I think you’d rather avoid pneumonia.”
I wriggled away from him and squelched to the employee restroom to change clothes. Then, warm and dry in a fleece pullover and leggings, I went to the front desk, where Thorin waited for me to sign the release of liability forms. “Are you sure about this, Miss Mundy?”
“Sure that I want to go on this trip? Yes, of course.”
“You’re making yourself vulnerable.”
“To what? I thought you wanted me out of town, minding my Ps and Qs. You should be happy.”
