The Blackberry Bush (16 page)

Kati

S
OMEHOW
I
MAKE IT
. The wave rumbles right across my back as my knees glance off the sand bottom, and I head back up for air between the waves.

I repeat this three times to get clear of the rocks. It’s getting darker. During one breathing break between waves, I check out my left arm. As I hold it out of the water, blood starts to gather and flow down the stinging skin. The Ziffer à Grande Complication 1924 watch is shattered.

Not the watch. No. Not that.

More burning in my throat. Another wave.
Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat. Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat.

I shoot a look back at the Cliffs. I can barely see them; they’re tiny. I’m caught in a rip current and being whisked out to sea. I feel so helpless. And I’m in the impact zone of relentless waves.

Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat.

Josh

I
RUN INTO THE WATER
, splashing as I go. As soon as it gets too deep to run, I thrust myself on top of the board and start paddling straight out.

O Jesus, I’m right. She’s in the impact zone without a board. She’ll never last out there.

I freeze for a second as I realize that I never had time to fasten my leash to my ankle. If I lose the board, I’ll drown for sure. No time to go back and fix the leash right now. It might be too late already. If she goes down for too long in the dark, murky water, I’ll never find her.

This is going to be a high-wire act without a net.

And now is all that matters. O Jesus.

Kati

I
COULDN
’
T MAKE IT UNDER THE TURBULENCE
of the last wave. I got rag-dolled and swallowed a lot of water. I come up, throwing up the salt water as I surface. Frantic, coughing, and also trying just to breathe. I’m headed north and west, along the coast and out to sea at the same time. Useless to fight against the current. And because I’m so skinny, I’ve never been buoyant. Have to thrash just to keep my face above water.

Josh

W
HAT AM
I
DOING OUT HERE?
If there is a Creator, and I think there is one, does he notice what I’m doing right now? Does he literally see me, or am I on my own?

Briefly I see Oma Adri. We’re standing outdoors on the deck of our Hossegor home at night. Her mother, Nellie, is playing Chopin in the octagonal room right behind her. Oma walks silently toward me and hands me a flaming torch. And then the image evaporates.

Kati

I’
VE BEEN IN OXYGEN DEBT
for what feels like forever. Can’t get my heart rate down.
Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat.

The salt water tastes like tears. I could cry this many tears right now. An ocean full. I’m awash in my own infinite grief.

But the tears are going to stop very soon, for good, if I can’t get to the beach. Why did I have that last beer? My head isn’t clear enough to handle this.
Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat.

Josh

I
PADDLE THE LONGBOARD FOR ALL
I’
M WORTH
, sprinting right and left to avoid the crests of the oncoming shore-bound waves so perhaps somehow, good Lord willing, I’ll make it out to the critical part of the impact zone.

As I compete for my life (at many levels), I realize I have become my father. I make a living off of scoring in sports. My father embodies “resentment” for me, and I am tempted to go back down that well-worn path of blaming him for everything. But a voice that’s not a voice says clearly to me,
“Forgive him, Josh, and honor him, and you will be free.”

I burst into tears. From all the pressure of the situation. Out of shame for what I did to Max. Out of horror of the realization that my grievances toward my father are keeping me from being fully alive in this world. By reacting against him, I am unable to act on my own behalf and out of my own heart.

Then love for my father floods into me from a Source I can’t identify. I vow right then and there to save this girl, survive, and reconcile with my father. Or die trying.

For whatever reason, as I cross this emotional line with my father, any sense of shame over what I did to Max vanishes all by itself. I’d love to enjoy this moment, but there are two lives on the line, right here and now. I resolve to leave all of my grievances out here in the water and start a new life this evening on the beach.

But for that to happen, I have to make it back to the beach.

Kati

T
HIS IS IT
. I can only survive another two or three waves. I wonder if a part of Mutti will be relieved when I don’t make it back. Or will this just be my final way of disappointing her?

I shed my wrap dress in one last attempt to increase my chances. Of course the phone is already long gone, but it’s not like that matters anymore.

Breathe. Dive. Surface. Repeat.

What would Opa do? He would be calm. He would choose to live. But maybe I should just give up; this is hopeless. I can barely stay alive, let alone swim free of this rip current. The waves are like relentless sideways freight trains, except louder. When they come crashing in, there is nowhere to hide.

My special-needs class at the church flashes before my eyes. I have to, just HAVE to be there for them this coming Sunday. Those families value me without condition. I am changing the lives of their children. If I don’t make it back…

Pull yourself together, Kati,
I tell myself.
For the kids who love you. Who need you.

Okay, God, I am yours; save me. Whatever that means, considering the mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Josh

W
HERE IS SHE?
It’s getting too dark. There she is, over to the left, but I can’t get there. The wave is crashing down…right on top of her. She’s going to get held under. How can I calculate where she’ll come up, if she ever does? Can’t put myself at risk or we’ll both be lost.

A woman’s dress, or wrap, or something floats by me in the rushing river of the riptide. Not a good sign.

Focus. Focus. O Jesus.
My knees are shaking uncontrollably as a big one rolls in toward me.