Chapter 2

I almost surely would've died if it hadn't been for Tabby. She saved me, again.

It was a boiling hot day in southwest Washington. I think the thermometer topped off at 105 degrees, and it was dry as a barbecue pit in hell. All of us were pretty much loafing in the house with the windows open and fans blowing as hard as they could. The cows were huddled miserably in the barns and under trees. All we wanted to do was sleep.

"Let's go to the lake," Tabby said suddenly. She was curled up on the floor listlessly turning the pages of a comic book.

I perked up slightly. I was lying a few feet away from her, flipping through a guitar magazine. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'm boiling."

"Okay, let me grab the picnic basket," Mrs. Langston said, heaving herself to her feet and going to the kitchen. "Why don't you get your suits and meet us down in the garage."

"I can see I'm out voted here," Mr. Langston grumped, smiling and rising also. "Seems just the thing though."

Tabby and I bounced off to our rooms, and within fifteen minutes we were all heading toward Vancouver Lake.

We of course weren't the only people with the same idea. I guessed there were probably twenty families scattered around. Somebody had hooked their radio to a loud speaker in the back of their truck, and rock was blaring over the water. There was even barbecuing going on, although how anyone could think of hanging around a fire on a day as god awful hot as this one was a complete mystery to me. The smell of grilled meats was pleasant, though. It's one of those iconic summer experiences, like smelling apple pies baking in the middle of winter.

We found a little spot that hadn't already been invaded by squealing babies and sullen teenagers and spread a blanket on the sand. And then we had a big, old fashioned water fight!

We crashed into the warm waters of the lake and played chicken, with Tabby on my back and Mrs. Langston on her husband's. We were all roaring with laughter and shrieking with delight as we fell into the water, knocked over by the other duo. We splashed each other insanely, playing silly games on who splashed the biggest splashes. The winner got dunked, and so did the loser; it was just pure silliness.

"Well kids, you done tuckered me out," Mr. Langston said after a while, pretending to be a feeble old man. "Just can't keep up with you rascals anymore."

"Come on, fool," Mrs. Langston said, tugging his arm and smiling at him affectionately. "Let's go sit on the beach and let these young'uns play for a while."

"Don't go too far out, kids," Mr. Langston said, before swimming back to the beach with his wife. They settled on the blanket and kept a watchful eye on us. They were snuggled up holding hands and she was giving him that smile I saw her give him sometimes when she thought we weren't looking. It was a smile that said she was his woman and he was the most important thing in her world.

There was some kind of flash in my mind. I don't know why it hit me just then, but I suddenly realized that it was the same look Tabby had been giving me for a while now. They say girls mature faster than boys, and I felt like the world's biggest idiot for not realizing it sooner.

Unfortunately, this moment of epiphany caused me to not pay attention to what I was doing. I was yanked suddenly out of my thoughts by a tugging at my ankle and, before I realized it, I was yanked brutally under water just as I was taking a breath.

There are only a few things in the world that totally wipe out any rational thought process and drag your focus completely onto the matter at hand. One is a truly awesome orgasm; another is vomiting your guts out; and another is drowning. While these events are occurring your focus is completely upon the event in question and you don't have room in your head for anything else.

I thrashed wildly, but the more I struggled, the further under I went. Black flowers blossomed and died before my eyes as my brain began to shut down for lack of oxygen. I heard a roaring in my ears and my chest hurt. I flailed and thrashed more and more weakly. The darkness was creeping around the edges of my vision and suddenly the water began to seem more comforting, rather than being the thing that kept me from living. It now seemed like if I gave into the urge to breathe all my problems would be over. What was the use, the water seemed to say, I'll make everything better. Just breathe ... breathe...

Then I felt a body crash into me and something slipped off my ankle. I was grabbed around the chest, squeezing the last rancid sip of oxygen out of my lungs, and yanked upwards until, with a wrenching, horribly painful gasp I breathed in the fresh air for the first time in what felt like whole geological ages.

The first few gasps of air tore down my throat like mouthfuls of razor blades. I felt myself dropped onto a hard surface and somebody was pressing on my chest. Gradually I became aware of somebody shouting at me. Through the fog of oxygen deprivation I heard: "Don't you dare die on me, Bobby Torrence! I didn't put all this fucking trouble into you just to have you drown on me. Don't you dare!"

I realized that I was on a float in the middle of the lake, and Tabby was kneeling beside me while Mr. Langston floated next to me, giving me light chest compressions to help me breathe. I also, as the fog cleared, realized the voice screaming at me belonged to Tabby. What the hell was she screaming about, I wondered apathetically, did she think I did this on purpose?

I rolled to one side and coughed out a huge stream of water. Seems I wasn't quite as successful at keeping the lake out of me as I'd thought. I turned and flopped weakly on my back again and addressed Tabby without opening my eyes.

"What are you yelling at me for?" I asked, still sounding like Clarence Frogman.

"You idiot," she said thickly, "I thought you were dying! I thought I was losing you."

I realized she was crying. I had never, ever seen her cry. Even when we were having that stupid tree climbing competition last year and she'd fallen and broken her ankle, she hadn't cried. Instead she screamed blue murder at me for getting her involved in that mess.

Seeing her tears for the first time did more to shock me back into a semblance of awareness than the influx of oxygen into my starved tissues. Painfully I rolled into a sitting position and pulled her to me, the first time I'd ever actually initiated any kind of physical contact between us.

She clung to me and sobbed, and even though I hadn't really done anything on purpose I felt like a heel. This strong girl was crying because of me. I glanced over her head and saw Mr. Langston looking very surprised, then he nodded at me, before mouthing: "Take care of her, I'm glad you're okay." He smiled, and started swimming back to the shore, where Mrs. Langston was wringing her hands and looking worried. He said something to her and she flashed me a smile of her own and they went back to their blanket.

"Idiot ... stupid ... jerk," Tabby was mumbling into my bare chest, still crying. I stroked her hair, now thoroughly nonplussed. I had no idea what to do with a crying girl, and I guess no man really does, even if he lives to be a hundred.

Finally she sniffled and looked up, her face red, those big brown eyes puffy and snot under her nose. "Don't ever do that again, you hear?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault," I protested, now feeling a little irritated. "I didn't try to drown on purpose."

"Yeah but you didn't have to stick your foot in a torn up fish net either, dumby."

"I didn't know it was there," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "I didn't scour the damn lake bottom and think to myself, Hey, I better make sure all the freaking fish nets are out of here so I don't irritate Tabbitha Langston.'"

"Well you should have," she smirked, now seemingly completely over her crying fit. "I can't go rescuing you all the time, Bobby."

All the levity went out of the conversation then. For a moment all the yelling and screaming kids, the rock and roll from the truck, the hollering of various adults, all of whom were oblivious to the little drama I had been a part of - all of it disappeared. For a little while it was just the two of us on that little floating platform in the middle of Vancouver Lake. I felt the dim stirrings of my hormones, only rolling over in their sleep, but present nonetheless. Had we been three or four years older, we would've made love right there on the platform. I was just so glad to be alive, and it was thanks to this girl.

"Thanks, Tabby. For getting involved way back then, and for just now," I said, not really sure how to express everything I was feeling at that moment.

Tabby, bless her little heart, understood. "You never had to thank me, you silly boy," she said, giving me the most gentle, tender smile I'd ever seen on her. Her right hand came up and stroked my face. "Do you know why I stepped in even way back then? Do you know why I wanted you around and why I am never far away?"

"No idea," I said.

"Bobby, when I looked up at you that first time, back when we were six years old, I felt something. You were standing there, all scared and looking like you wanted to run and hide because this was a new place for you and old Frankie Shepard was giving you a hard time. When I saw you, I just knew that someday we were going to get married. Sounds totally stupid, I know, but that's what happened. Every little girl dreams about finding their prince charming, but I didn't have to hunt for years to find him. So no way are you going to drown, on my watch, understand?"

"Uh, okay," I said, not really knowing how to reply to that.

"I know you have no idea what I'm talking about," she said, still smiling. "But I'm here whenever you realize we're meant for each other, Bobby. Take your time; we have lots of it."