* * *
Many years before, he had seen Ellie fight for air. It was a hot July day, and Cole had borrowed an inflatable kayak from a friend. They thought it would be fun to take it down the river. Ellie packed a picnic lunch. Cole got some paddles, a portable radio, suntan lotion, and some towels, and they were off. Cole’s parents had lived not too far from the river in those days. The plan was to raft down the river five or six miles from the Crows Ferry Bridge and get out at the small park on the bank about 200 yards from his parents’ house. It was going to be an afternoon of rafting and swimming, then a barbeque with his parents.
A friend dropped them at the bridge and they had set sail with waves goodbye and laughter. The day was glorious and the river smooth. Cole and Ellie had laughed and talked, swam, and even had time for a few kisses along the way. They dined on cold fried chicken, deviled eggs, and some strange pink stuff Ellie’s mother had made. They had let a net dangle in the water behind the kayak filled with cans of Coke. The day was perfect.
They were less than two miles from the park when they rounded the bend at the little town of Sheridan. Ellie was telling a story about something that had happened at work, and Cole was half listening, half drifting when something caught his eye. Fifty yards ahead, several large Spiky Elms had fallen across the river at a narrow bend. At first, he thought they could just maneuver around them, but as he sat up and took a closer look, he realized the trees were completely blocking their passage.
The 50 yards closed quickly, and the current became swifter. Cole told Ellie to hang on while he tried to paddle them to the shore. He realized as he began to paddle that the strong current was swirling just ahead of them. The Elms had created a whirlpool of sorts, and they were in it before Cole could get up enough speed to pull out of it. From their limbs and trunks protruded needle-sharp thorns that grew as long as three inches.
Before they could react, the rubber kayak slammed into the trees. The thorns made a thousand holes in the rubber sides and deflated it almost instantly. The current was pulling the kayak, now a heavy mass of rubberized canvas, under the trees. The contents of their little boat were in the water. Cole hit the side of the first tree and fell headfirst back into the water.
Cole knew he was in trouble. He was a strong swimmer and had spent many summers in the backyard pool. This, however, was different from racing or playing roughhouse games with the neighbors in six feet of calm water. The current was pulling him down. He opened his eyes and saw light above him. The ice chest was drifting by and he thought for a moment of Dorothy when she was up in the tornado in the Wizard of Oz and all the things that had passed by her window.
Cole could not see Ellie. He remembered how his father had often spoken of his Navy training during World War II. Relax, he would say, let the water do what it will, then as it eases, you take control. Cole relaxed, pointed his feet toward the bottom, and let the current drag him down. In a matter of seconds, he felt his feet hit firm sand. With all his strength, he pushed off and, with his arms stroking and pulling as hard as he could, he shot toward the surface.
Gasping and sucking in air, Cole burst from the water. He grabbed the trunk of the Spiky Elm and felt the sharp prick of the thorns in his palms. At that moment, Ellie’s head bobbed up from the water. She faced Cole and screamed for help, then went under. Without thinking, Cole dove after her.
His thoughts were not for his safety, but Ellie’s. He couldn’t let her drown. For the briefest of moments, he’d seen her parents, and him having to tell them she had died. This will not happen, he’d thought. Grabbing Ellie’s arm, he’d pulled her towards him. Pulling her closer, he wrapped his arm around her waist and grabbed the top of her denim shorts. With strength he didn’t know he possessed, he pulled her over him and out of the water. Arms flailing, she grabbed the tree.
Cole stroked and kicked back to the surface and again grabbed the spiky trunk. He caught an area where the thorns had either been worn away or broken off. Ellie was lying motionless across the trunk. Her hair was covering her face. Cole saw her ribs and chest expanding and could hear the sound of gagging and gasping coming from her.
Cole broke off a piece of rotting limb from the tree. He used it to knock off thorns from the trunk. Once cleared, he pulled himself up on the trunk and knocked more thorns off with the side of his tennis shoe, careful not to puncture the soles. Just as he reached Ellie, she slipped off into the water. A second before she would’ve gone under, Cole caught her wrists and pulled her out of the water like a crane would lift a heavy load, and stood her on the huge trunk.
Ellie wretched violently and threw up. She had obviously swallowed a lot of the river water. She spit, gasped, and wretched some more. Cole wasn’t sure if she would catch her breath. She bent over, palms against her knees, and heaved great breaths of air. Finally, she’d stood straight.
“You saved my life,” she gasped, pushing her hair out of her face.
Cole looked around. The whirlpool the trees created had caused brush and trash to pile up behind the trees where they stood. In that moment, he realized that if Ellie had gone under the second time, she would have been swept under the brush and would never have resurfaced. His knees buckled. He suddenly felt lightheaded.
“Cole, you saved my life!” Ellie threw her arms around Cole’s neck.
Cole shook all over. Ellie held him tight and started to laugh.
“You. Saved. My. Life, Cole Sage! You’re my hero for real!” Ellie stopped laughing and tossed back her hair. “You are quite a guy.” Her fingers were laced behind his head and she leaned back at arm’s length and looked deeply into Cole’s eyes. “I will never forget what you have done. As long as I live, I will owe to you whatever good becomes of me.” For a long moment, they just looked in each other’s eyes. Then, as if the seriousness was too much for her, Ellie said, “I’d kiss you, but it would taste like puke.” Then she bent down, pushed against Cole’s chest with the top of her head and began to laugh once more.
Overcome by the moment, Cole threw his head back and laughed until they both nearly fell in the river again. It took almost an hour to get out of the deep ravine the river had cut through the foothills. The walls were very steep, and the dirt was dry and dusty. When they finally made it up to the highway, they both looked like gingerbread men. All that was visible were their eyes and smiles. They were alive and even deeper in love.