The Danger Below
By
R.H. Proenza
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PUBLISHED BY:
The Danger Below
Revised 09/24/2016
Copyright © 2013 by R.H. Proenza
ISBN: 9781301587421
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This book is mostly a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters (except for the main one) are productions or the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Your support and respect for the property of this author are appreciated.
I hope you enjoy the story and perhaps can relate to one of its characters, if only for a short while.
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The Danger Below
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(Based partly on a true incident)
Robbie stared out at the large expanse of blue-green ocean, then at his uncle’s small row boat. He wondered how he could get away with just saying NO. He gazed with longing at the small patch of water he’d mentally marked off for swimming. It was shallow, crystal clear, sandy bottom, SAFE, and no bigger than a house pool. It was all the ocean he cared to get into during his vacation in the Florida Keys without his parents. Actually, he had rather be in a nice safe swimming pool than here.
“Ready?” Robbie’s uncle was standing next to the skiff with oars in hand, and his familiar voice jarred him.
“Um…” said Robbie, as he straightened up and fear tightened his stomach. “Um… Okay, I....I’ll help you load the crab pots.” His uncle gave him a momentarily worried look then moved his eyes away. When the eight traps were balanced precariously on the small boat, Robbie took a deep breath. “How about if I just watch you…again, uncle?”
“Oh?” A man of few words, Uncle Frank stood still and looked hard at Robbie. “You know, I could use the help now that my hired hand is away for the week.” Robbie knew it was difficult for one man to handle the crab pots and both oars at the same time. “And I've noticed you’ve gotten to be a good rower by now.” his uncle said.
Robbie nodded, speechless as he tried to protest. He had been practicing in shallow waters for two days, but he couldn’t believe the compliment.
“…and you’re a good swimmer, too,” his uncle continued. Robbie couldn’t deny that. Back home at the local YMCA, he was number three on the swim team. Not bad for a twelve-year-old kid!
Embarrassed, Robbie ducked his head. He bent down to adjust the Nike water shoes he always wore, in and out of the water. As he slid off the shoe to get rid of some sand his fingers brushed the old scar on the sole of his foot. It was still visible after all these years.
His uncle, bare-chested, well muscled from hard work and darkened by the sun, waited for Robbie’s reply.
“Um, okay, uncle, I’ll be glad to help. Maybe I’m ready.”
“Of course you are,” Uncle Frank remarked with a smile. Robbie stepped into the small boat trying not to wobble it too much. Within minutes his uncle pushed them away from shore and they cast off. Robbie rowed reluctantly away from the safety of the shore. He headed toward the hideous darkness beneath the water that was now approaching. “Okay, Robbie. Stop and let it drift a little. We can drop the first crab pot about here.” The man lifted the heavy trap as Robbie stopped rowing. “Just hold ‘er steady for a bit.”
“Right.” Under twelve feet of water, Robbie could see the dark broadleaf grasses. They waved in slow motion like the hands of a dead man warning him to STAY AWAY! He turned, biting his lip and feeling chills running along his spine.
The memory of four years earlier flashed through his mind – he had been walking in waist deep water at the beach. A brilliant gleam of sunlight reflecting off mother-of-pearl caught his eye. It was visible through the shallow crystal water. He knew the gleam came from a large beautiful shell. He was delighted to have found one of this of size. It distracted him from what was lurking in a dark patch of sea grass next to his feet…a large sea urchin. As he stepped to reach for the large shell several of the spiny animal’s long sharp quills pierced his foot. A hot searing shot of pain ran up his leg. He screamed at the top of his lungs and…
WHAP! The sound of the crab trap slapping the water jarred him back. But the memory still lingered.
Robbie rowed in silence into deeper waters. He went from one spot to the next, trying to keep attention on his work and not on the unknown danger that lurked below. But the fear kept on crowding in, darkening his mind with it. He felt it tighten its grip like a vise at his stomach, making him lose his concentration from the task at hand.
“Go ahead, Robbie, keep on rowing,” his uncle urged. He hadn’t realized he was slowing down. “We only have this last pot to drop.” Uncle Frank turned and noticed the boy’s anguished look, but said nothing. The work finished, and with some awkwardness, Robbie turned the skiff toward the shore. In his rush, the edge of the oar skimmed the top of the water and splashed sea water upward at both of them.
“S-sorry, Uncle,” he said nervously. He felt his face color with embarrassment.
“What is it, son? What’s the matter?” His uncle’s brow knitted with concern. Robbie sighed, and reluctantly told his WHOLE story to his uncle. His eyes became moist and his fists clenched, humiliated at having to admit to a fear of the ocean. A long quiet moment passed as the skiff swayed to and fro with the tide. “Yes, I remember now something about that,” said his uncle. “I never knew it left such a bad memory. Son, sorry I put you through this today.”
“I guess I never mentioned it to you. Maybe I’m just a wimp!” Uncle Frank smiled.
“Robbie, you have good reason to feel the way you do. Lots of people are fearful of what may be hiding beneath dark waters. That’s just fear of the unknown, and it’s perfectly normal. But being afraid doesn’t make you a wimp. As a matter of fact, fear is a way of the body protecting itself. Sometimes fear can even make you a stronger person.”
“But I HATE being afraid, Uncle. I feel like such a sissy.”
“Now, I know for a fact you are NOT a sissy. But…what would you have done if a shark had bitten you?”
Robbie’s eyebrows shot up as he thought about that for a moment. “Well, I would have been SO afraid of the ocean I probably couldn’t even get near a glass of water!”
The man chuckled and pulled up his shorts pant leg on one side and the color drained from his face. A small part of his uncle’s thigh was missing! “A Mako shark took a chunk out of me years ago. And yes, I became afraid of the ocean for a little while. But I dealt with it and worked it out. I realized the shark wasn't mean but was just curious and hungry, and acted on his own nature as he passed by me. Now I love the sea and would rather be here than anywhere else.” The boy looked at his uncle with awe for the first time.
“Son, you’ve carried this thing far too long. How about if we deal with it right now. Are you willing to whip this?” Robbie thought for a moment. The boat swayed beneath them, reminding him of the water’s depth, and almost weakening his resolve at the same time.
But he was tired of being afraid of the ocean. If his uncle could rid him of this fear this was as good a time as any to do it. “Y-yes, I am.” He felt more confident once he said those words.
“Good! Let’s go back and get two masks from the house, and get two snorkels while we’re at it.” In a short while, both were in three feet of clear warm ocean water. “Now, get that worried look off your face, son. This will be easier that you think.”
Robbie adjusted the mask and bit into the mouthpiece of his snorkel. He wiggled his toes inside his wate
r shoes for reassurance before sticking his head under the water. They floated for a bit while the man allowed him to look at the sandy bottom. The ocean currents had created interesting wavy ripples in the white sand. It made it look like granny’s old washboard. A tiny crab quickly buried itself as Robbie approached. That was pretty cool, he thought to himself. Together they floated toward the edge of the dark grass. Robbie slowed down. Uncle Frank gave a thumbs-up and seemed to smile despite the snorkel.
The man reached out and ran his hand through the grass. His fingers went between the blades looking for anything of interest. He found a few small clams and small conch. He dug again and pulled up curious looking shells. Then he reached deeper into the sand and pulled out a tuft of sea grass from where it was anchored and let it float. It dangled harmlessly in the current. The floating clump of grass looked like…green onions! Robbie saw him play with the soft blades, and nothing happened to his hand.
Robbie cautiously moved forward to the edge of the patch of sea grass. The grass waved with the gentle currents, and he touched it and pulled a blade up. At the edge of the patch, he dug into the sand and picked up another baby conch. Digging some more produced several cool spiral shells. Then he found a small sand dollar and a shell with some mother-of-pearl inside.
At once he burst through the surface of the water. “Uncle Frank, it’s…it’s just grass, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, son, it’s ONLY grass.” The man grinned at Robbie, and Robbie grinned back.
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An old long driftwood plank he found in the yard served as an outdoor shelf for Robbie. On it, he had arranged a long row of interesting things he had found while exploring by himself. The Sargasso grass beds just off the shoreline and below the surface of the water were full of surprises. All this ocean stuff had become treasures to him now. They had become reminders of the all-time-best vacation he ever had in ocean waters that were not creepy or dangerous… after all.
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