Spanish Heat
Andrea Bizderi Whelan
(An American Charm novella)
Copyright 2011 by Andrea Bizderi Whelan
Smashwords Edition
CHAPTER 1
Standing on the lakeshore, I felt a shiver ran through me, shaking my whole body to the bone. After pulling the zipper all the way up to my chin, I crossed my arms over my chest. My eyes bored into the dark-grey water, watching the spring wind whipping the surface to a froth.
A flock of black ravens launched from the tree from the farthest side of the lake, croaking loudly.
I shuddered again.
Slowly the consequences of my decision began to sink in.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I yelled to Gellert, turning my head toward the log cabin in the field, where he was busy unpacking our gear.
He didn’t stop, only looked at me mischievously.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little cold water,” he said good-naturedly, still squatting next to a giant duffle bag.
Another gust of wind ruffled my hair.
“Do you even know how cold the water is?”
“Five, seven Celsius? Something like that,” Gellert said, dragging an oxygen tank to the shore. “Stop freaking yourself out and come and help me,” he said while struggling with the weight.
I looked over to Matyi who was standing beside me, bundled up in an olive green coat. Despite the kind request of the instructor, he refused to budge an inch, so I nodded at him, implying he should come with me.
He followed, murmuring something under his breath. I couldn’t make out his words, but ever since the course started, three weeks ago, he had been constantly complaining about everything. So I assumed he must have cussed out his dad, who forced him to learn scuba diving, or the instructor, who actually made him do it again.
“Are you scared?” I asked Matyi, while we both checked our own tanks.
“No,” he snapped and pulled his straight, shimmering black hair behind his ear, as he did a million times a day, to get rid of the overflowing hair cascading down his face.
“Are you enjoying that curtain in front of your eye?”
“No, not really.”
“Why don’t you chop it off, then? It seems to bother you whatever you do,” I commented but immediately wished I hadn’t. I hated sounding like an adult. I had finished high school years ago. Still, I disliked preaching.
“Because father hates it.” He cleared his throat. “I refuse to get a haircut, so now he makes my life miserable in as many other ways as he can.” Fuming, he kicked on the cylinder, which fell on the top of his wetsuit. As the metal parts collided, a sharp sound cut into the air.
“Watch the gear, boy!” Gellert shouted in an irritated tone.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, bowing his head as he separated the parts.
“I think this is fun,” I shrugged. “At least it was in the pool. I don’t know about this dirty, murky lake, though. I hope a week-long sickness won’t follow this adventure.”
“Oh, stop being such a pansy. I’ve dived under ice with no problem. Today it’s just a little chilly,” Gellert said as he pulled my shoulders back, straightening my posture, and then turned to the boy. “Matyi, your dad didn’t send you to my class to punish you; he sent you to learn something very cool. I think you can use a little cool, son, because this head-to-toe black and girlish hair is not cool at all, at least not in a man’s world.”
As much as I tried to hide my smile, I failed, and it surfaced while I stared at the two males with generational differences.
Gellert was in his late forties, with cropped caramel hair, lean, muscled body and ramrod posture. His handshake was strong and self-confident, just like his talk.
Matyi was a senior in high school and there was nothing confident about him. He always kept his hands in his pockets, hoodie pulled up, walking like a hunchback. It was very difficult to have a conversation with him. I had to drag every word out of him, and he never asked a question.
“Let’s go have some fun then,” I said with forged enthusiasm, and, suit in hand, I stepped inside the cabin to change.
As I peeled my clothes off, layer-by-layer, my teeth started to chatter. Standing in my bikini, I yanked my wetsuit over my goose-bumped skin.
I’m not normal, I thought. I had to be crazy to take scuba diving lessons in early April, but I promised Sam I’d get a license before our vacation in Spain. For weeks, every chat on the phone shifted toward our joint holiday. Sam’s desire to introduce me to the world of the dark blue deep and share his love for the sea created a constant theme for my dreams, which were both frightening and pleasant at the same time.
It had been two months since Sam had left Hungary to work in the stifling hot desert of Kuwait. Compared with all the sacrifices he made, taking a few lessons required very little effort on my part. Besides, the decision to choose this early-spring session was mine. My overcrowded schedule pretty much dictated my life lately.
I can do this, I encouraged myself, and with a big gulp of breath, I stepped out onto the concrete.
“I see the suit fits you perfectly,” Gellert leered.
“Did you give me this overly tight suit on purpose,” I demanded, shaking my head, upset.
“It’s supposed to be like that,” he chuckled.
Matyi was looking me up and down as well, but when I caught his eyes on me, he turned away, blushing.
“Let’s get this over with. The sky looks very unfriendly. I don’t want to be here when the storm comes,” I whined as I secured the lead weight on my waist. I reached for my fins, then Gellert held up my tank and I slid my arm into the straps.
I dragged my body to the beach, feeling wobbly under the weight. The first step into the water gave me an indication of how it would feel when the wintry water touched my skin. My stomach cramped from the thought.
As Gellert laid down the rules and the obligatory routine, the three of us stood next to each other, looking like a bunch of idiots fully geared up in our black rubber, second-skins.
Then I put my mask on, and, hot on Gellert’s heals, I ducked under the water’s surface. Matyi stayed at the shore, waiting his turn.
As the minutes wore on, my body heat warmed up the water in my suit, and I started to feel more comfortable. Only my hands were exposed, but my fingers seemed to work fine.
Calmly, I tailgated the instructor into a deeper part of the lake, listening only to my breathing.
Since the rich microorganisms blurred my vision, I kept my eye on Gellert, who was paddling in front of me to the first obstacle. He signaled ‘okay’ to me attentively from time to time.
Once he stopped and pointed at the rope which was lying on the bottom of the lake. I was supposed to follow that line, which led me to about twenty meters deep. Gellert told us on the shore that we were going to encounter a few objects, and he would guide us, using the sign language that we had learnt in the classroom over the past few weeks. We had also dived several times into the city’s community pool. But that was nothing like being in this frosty, grimy water, going deeper than I ever thought I would.
I reached wildly for the rope, but Gellert shook his head and beckoned me forward, using the line only as visual guidance. When he slowly ascended above me, leaving me in charge, I could feel my heart drumming in my ear.
I hesitated, but then the thought of that small, plastic certification card with my name on it pushed me forward. I didn’t know where I was going, or how deep I was already. There was only the vast nothingness in front of me, filling me with dread; yet I kept moving on.
When panic crept over me, I scanned my surroundings. The sight of Gellert swimming above me – like a mother whale – lowered my pulse, temporarily.
After long minutes of floating above the lakebed, the urgent need of to be back on shore, safe and sound, started to overwhelm my mind. Determined to finish, I grabbed the rope and pulled myself onwards, while switching my hands as fast as I was capable of. I didn’t bother to check if Gellert could keep up the pace. I had to see the end of my road here, I thought. I can’t stand being in the dark. You shouldn’t even be here, Angela, I cried to myself.
Pulling my heavy body was hard work, and soon I was short on breath. I concentrated on not opening my mouth and keeping the regulator in it.
I’ll use up all my air if I don’t relax, I warned myself firmly. Stopping, I looked for my diving buddy. His absence started a second wave of panic in me. I fixed my eyes in front of me and regulated my breathing. I thought I saw something, but I couldn’t be sure.
What is that? Curiosity quickly replaced fear, and with a tight hold on the rope, I approached the object. The weak sunrays reflected on something metallic. I narrowed my eyes. What is it? I wondered.
A thump on my shoulder threw me off balance, and the regulator fell out of my mouth. I flipped around, keeping my lips sealed. Gellert’s angry eyes burnt into mine through our masks. He seized my shoulders and vehemently moved his head. Then he pushed the oxygen regulator back to my mouth and pointed two fingers toward my eyes, then to his. While I stared at him motionless, he mimed a slow fish movement with his hand, indicating that I was supposed to go slow, diving gradually, and not let all the pressure build upon me. I responded with an okay, and then he gave a firm shove to my air tank, sending me toward the object.
It was a minivan with its back doors open. Judging by the rust and the overgrown algae, it must have been underwater for years.
Floating next to it, I looked at Gellert and shrugged. He had already made his way beside me, and with an easy hand gesture he pointed to me to get inside the van. I obeyed his signal, perplexed.
For the second time, he was using more intense sign language. I took a deep breath, as much as my lungs could hold, and reached for the opening on the back of the van.
After a strong pull, I expected to glide through the cabin like a trained dolphin swims through a hoop. Instead my body barely moved a few inches. I turned my head to find the origin of the hold up and spotted my air tank stuck in the doorframe. Despite my awareness of Gellert in the vicinity, my heart started to race again. I wriggled my body back and forth a few times before I could break free.
I shot an angry look toward my instructor for not helping, but he only waved his hand again.
Upset and disappointed, I rushed through the body of the car and exited at the side door. I wanted to give an ‘are you satisfied?’ headshake to Gellert, but he was gone again.
It took me a few seconds to spot him kneeling on a square of concrete on the bottom of the lake. I felt anger boiling in me, slowly rising to my eyes, blinding me. Gellert gave me no time to explode – not as if I could explode very effectively underwater anyway – and motioned me to take the same position. I realized what was going to happen and every cell in my body resisted. When we practiced inside the clear, warm water of the indoor pool, I had to take my mask off. Usually Gellert did it first, to show his students how to put it back on properly, but he kept his on this time.
I’m good at this. I can do this, I encouraged myself. I had done it a hundred times before.
Feeling upbeat by my own incitement, with one quick move I removed my mask.
My lungs collapsed from the unexpected wave of icy water,. The strangulation of my windpipe almost forced me to open my mouth wide in order to breath. I kept my eyes shut very tight while my head was twitching. Lost in the dark, I held my mask steady with my fingers. I longed for help, but it didn’t arrive.
Using all my wits and strength, I managed to control my reflexes, while the freezing water crawled up into my nostrils. With stiffened body I stayed put, kneeling on the flat platform, weighing my options. I could launch up to the surface, but from this depth the rapid pressure change might harm me, or I could just try to put the mask back on.
With the panic fading away, I raised my hands toward my face, but no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to place the mask correctly. My fingers were frozen and rigid, appearing to be useless. I forced the mask on me countless times, but all I could achieve was having the mask misplaced across my face between my eyes and the rubber straps entangled in my hair. When I removed the mask to try again, sharp pangs burnt my scalp from the wisp of hair I yanked out of my head.
Realizing how pathetic my attempts were, I stopped moving in hope that Gellert would come to my rescue.
Seconds went by, and I felt no touch and heard no sound. I was at the point of giving up, when the survival instinct took control of my limbs. I wiggled my fingers and let the life force inside guide me along. Poised and relaxed, I fixed the mask on my face and pressed on it to blow the water out – using the air in my nose – and slowly opened my eyes.
Gellert was clapping his hands, giving me the okay sign and then he hugged me.
I resisted, pushing him away. I wanted to scream his head off, but it was impossible. I only motioned with my hands and my head to express my disappointment in him.
He reached for my hand and led me back to the surface.
I ignored my shivering body; the only thing I thought of was giving him lip on shore.
“How could you…?” I started yelling the minute I could tear the regulator out.
“Could I what? Teaching you how to survive, alone, without help?” he interrupted me.
“You should have helped,” I said, much quieter.
“Nobody will help you when you’re down thirty, forty meters. Being not prepared could cost you your life.” He stood in front of me, his eyes as serious as they could ever be. He put one hand on my shoulder. “You’re ready. Now I can let you deep dive on your own.”
I went speechless, rooted into the slime.
“What’s going on?” Matyi shouted, with horror on his face.
“I little misunderstanding, nothing serious,” I said, stumbling to the beach.
“I’m not going in there,” Matyi whined, slowly backing up toward the cabin.
“Are you going to let a girl take home the glory? Come on, Matyi. Be a man,” Gellert mocked as he picked up a full cylinder for himself.
“This is nuts!” Matyi yelled again, but Gellert’s talk had results, because he worked his air tank on himself and with mask in hand walked into the water. “My dad will pay for this,” he muttered, but nobody responded.
I dropped the gear at the door of the cabin and tore the wetsuit off as I made my way to the shower. I stood in the hot water for long minutes, until my whole body was warm.
Once dressed, I wrapped myself in a quilt that I found next to the fireplace, and went back to the shore.
I had hardly sat myself down when the other two divers emerged from the lake.
“What were you doing in the past hour if you had no time to check the air? That’s the most important thing you do before you go under,” Gellert shouted at Matyi’s back as he plodded toward me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“This dumbass brought an empty air tank,” Gellert growled, slapping his forehead. “If you go diving with a group, they’ll leave you in the boat with no regret.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Matyi cuffed back.
“There might not be, but right now you are in my class and I demand precise work here. Do you understand, son?”
“Whatever,” Matyi whispered.
“What was that?” Gellert demanded, pricking up his ears toward us.
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Hurry up!”
As Matyi passed me, I avoided his eyes. He must have been embarrassed enough without my staring at him.