Free Here Today, Gone to Maui by Carol Snow Page B

infection, and now she’s locked herself in her room so she doesn’t start puking. Savannah says she feels nauseous, but I think it’s just because she wants attention.”
    “Okay, you win,” I said. “Your day sucks more than mine. Where’s Stacey?”
    “Slumber party.”
    “Sal?”
    “Nauseous. But I think that’s just his personality. And, oh—Mom was supposed to come to dinner tonight, and when I called to cancel, she said she could tell all along that I didn’t really want her to come, so I’m probably glad to have an excuse.”
    My phone beeped. “Oh, crap—battery’s low. Anyway. Just wanted to say hi. Jimmy’s diving, and I’m stuck on the beach waiting.”
    “My heart bleeds for you,” Beth said, sounding a touch more chipper than she had at the beginning of the conversation.
    I threw the phone back in my tote and stared out at the water. The sun peeked through in patches, the rays reaching through the raindrops like a child’s drawing. When I thought I saw Jimmy’s head pop out of the water, I hurried to the water’s edge and peered out, but it was just a whitecap.
    The rain slowed to a mist. It was 11:09. Figuring that Jimmy went under at around ten-thirty, and his air would last around forty-five minutes, I decided he would resurface no later than eleven-fifteen.
    The rain stopped. At eleven-fifteen, I reconsidered the shallowness of the dive plus Jimmy’s diving expertise. He could probably stay under for an hour, which meant he’d be up by eleven-thirty. I wouldn’t tell him I’d been worried. I wouldn’t even let him know I’d been cold.
    At eleven-thirty I decided that Jimmy had begun his dive later than I’d assumed. He’d had to swim pretty far out. And maybe I wasn’t in the water for as long as I’d thought. I’d been nervous, after all, and time slows down when you’re afraid. Surely Jimmy would return to the surface no later than 11:40. I’d act a little annoyed, but not enough to ruin the rest of the afternoon.
    On the way back to the condo, I’d ask him to stop off at Safeway. I’d buy fish.
    I wouldn’t tell him I’d been worried. Because it was just so crazy to think that something bad might have happened.
    At eleven forty-five, there was still no sign of Jimmy.
    That’s when I knew: he was gone.

Chapter 8

    I shouldn’t have called my sister. Without those minutes, there would have been enough charge left in my battery to call 911. If Jimmy was trapped underwater, every second counted.
    I should have checked the time when he went in.
    I should have left my cell phone charged.
    I should have gone for help sooner.
    It didn’t even occur to me to blame Jimmy for breaking a basic safety rule by diving alone. I didn’t want to be angry at him.
    I ran up the concrete steps, tiny red ants swarming at my feet. Even without any sun, the air in the car was humid. I ran my hand under the seat and yanked open the glove compartment. Surely Jimmy had brought his phone along. But then I remembered him tossing it on the table at the condo: he didn’t want it to get stolen.
    Adrenaline made my body shake and my heart race. My breathing came in strangled gasps. I stepped into the road and looked both ways, but Jimmy had chosen a deserted stretch, and there was no traffic. Driving away was out of the question: I couldn’t leave Jimmy.
    I ran back down the stairs, just far enough so I could see Jimmy if he had reappeared. In my mind I pictured him staggering breathless onto the beach and falling into my arms. I’d hold him tight, not caring that he soaked my already-damp terry cover-up.
    Already, though, I knew that wouldn’t happen. He had been down too long. Everyone needs to come up for air.
    I was about to get back in the car when a tan sedan appeared around the bend. I dashed into the street and held my arms up. The car jerked to a halt.
    The man who got out was silver-haired, older but not old. I think his wife had silver hair, too, but I can’t be sure. So many