“Help,” Ted yells.
Rini jumps on Ted’s back and pulls them under again.
When I reach the spot where they last went under, I dive down to find them. The water is murky. The shades of green are my best indications of direction, along with the temperature. Army green and cold, I’m going down. Yellow green and warmer, I’m heading toward the surface. This I know. But I have no idea how I’m going to get these two apart and onto land.
By some twist of fate, Rini lets go of Ted. I grab hold of his shirt, but he’s not rising to the surface. He must be caught on some of the seagrass at the bottom. I yank once and Ted moves a little. I yank a second time and his body shoots up another few inches. It’s progress, but now I’ve overexerted myself. I let go of Ted and go limp, letting the life jacket buoy me back to the surface.
With a second round of air, I dive under and pull Ted’s body from the brush.
“Aimee, throw me a life vest,” I call out.
She throws one but we watch it get carried far to the left of me. Aimee processes the trajectory and adjusts. She tosses two more into the water and the current brings them straight to me.
“Nice job, hon.”
I wrap Ted in a life jacket and prop one under his chin to keep his mouth and nose out of the water although I’m not sure it will help. He looks unconscious.
Once I reach the dock, Aimee and Farah pull while I push Ted from underneath. We have him out of the water in less than a minute. I head back for Rini.
RINI
I keep floating, drifting in the water outside Stars Harbor. Impossibly, I see Eric swimming toward me and my smile grows bigger. Wait, Eric’s not here. I’m supposed to call him later, when the guests leave.
“Eric, I was hoping to see you,” I say.
How can I talk under water? And why does Eric look frightened when I’m clearly glad to see him?
I wait patiently for him to reach me, but his growing silhouette turns everything black.
When my vision returns, I’m floating on the water. It’s not the Long Island Sound in the middle of a storm. This water is salty and warm and so blue. The sky is clear; a gentle breeze carries the smell of honeysuckle.
“Wow,” I say.
My voice echoes off the water. There’s not a soul in sight.
“Wow,” I say, this time louder.
Suddenly I hear a splash behind me. I’m not afraid of what it might be. All I feel is peace.
“Hey.”
I recognize Andi’s voice. I turn to her with joy. But there’s no one there. I tread in circles, waiting to spot her, but there’s only the quiet lapping of water in response.
“Andi? Where are you, Andi?”
“Hey,” she says.
I push the water around me back and forth. I don’t see anyone. In the distance is nothing either. No buildings, no beaches, no boats. It’s water as far as the eye can see in 360 degrees.
Andi’s head pops above the water.
“I was right behind you the whole time,” she says. She wipes the water from her nose. “I was practically touching you.”
“Where are we?”
“The most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” Andi says. She turns her face up to the cloudless sky above us. She’s right about that.
It’s the most glorious body of water I’ve ever been in. I’ve never experienced beauty like this in person. If it were a photo, I would have thought it was all Instagram filters and tricks of light.
“Why didn’t you tell me that today was the day you were going to die?” she asks.
In a flash of anger, I want to ask her why she didn’t tell me about Ted and what he’d done to her. But instead of feeling the anger, it materializes as a lightning bolt through the sky behind me. It hits and then disappears. And I know my answer. Andi was protecting me like I was protecting her.
The sky changes again and the sun peeks out from behind a white fluffy cloud. A vibrant rainbow spreads across the sky. I think about hugging Andi, and as soon as I acknowledge my thought, she’s in my arms embracing me. I stop treading water to squeeze her tighter and an unseen force holds me up. The laws of physics don’t apply, and that’s the confirmation I need. This isn’t real.
I’m dead.
This is exactly how they described it in the books. Specific to me, but always the same. My ideal person in my ideal place. Eric led me to Andi by the water.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” I say. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Both of our plans were half-baked, so maybe the lesson is two heads are better than one?” Andi asks with a laugh.
But I can’t agree with her. There was no way out of my death date and I don’t regret keeping it from her.
“I’m glad it ended this way,” I say.
“There could have been a different way,” she says.
