You know how sometimes you’re in a situation, like you’ve just dropped glitter or pencil shavings all over the carpet, and you believe it’s a perilous position till you see the rug? You just immediately pull the rug over the spilled art supplies and don’t even think of using the vacuum cleaner, which would have had a better outcome.
You see the problem, and you see your first solution, thinking of only that solution and none other. You don’t realize that there may be a much better solution just under your nose and in the end that latter solution is usually the better one.
I don’t know if that’s exactly like that day, by that lake, but I’m sure it’s close. I saw the hollow bamboo sticks, thought only of a strategy involving those straws, and went with it.
I didn’t have time to work through options and conjure a better one. If I did have the time . . . the entire outcome of that day would have been different.
But I saw Ned had already thought of it, so I went with it.
"Quick, everyone grab a stick and jump in," I ordered, tersely, as I started breaking off sticks for the others. I made sure everyone had a stick before I jumped in behind them.
Without hesitation, I plunged right in.
It was so cold, I got a fright when I splashed in. I don’t know if it was the icy coldness of the water, or the excitement from the chase, but I felt a bit tingly.
The water seemed to slap me in the face. It soaked my jeans, making them heavy, causing them to drag me down and slow my pace. The lake was deep and muddy. It had to be, for the hippos.
I struggled for a second, trying to regain control of my freezing limbs. I bobbed to the surface and used all my might to keep my head under the brim of the water, breathing awkwardly through the straw, desperately hoping a bee didn’t fly down the tube, into my mouth.
The water in the lake was murky, from having us jump in and turn up the beds, but I could make out the silhouettes of my friends. Ned wasn’t too far from me. He looked my way and waved with his arm in acknowledgement.
My heart was racing from the adrenaline of the chase. During the few minutes spent under the water, I managed to calm down. After a couple of minutes of being immersed in the freezing cold water, I stuck my head out. The bees had left. The others got the idea and did the same.
"Did anyone get stung?" Brooke asked as she swam over to the edge and pulled herself up.
Robyn appeared at the far side of the lake. "I nearly did. But I smacked it before it could plant one."
She took a deep breath, dived under and within a few seconds was at the other side. She swam so swift, she didn’t even create a single ripple.
Smithy swam to the bank and lifted himself up onto the partly grassy ground, flopped down on his back, panting heavily for a few seconds. I don’t know if it was from the running, jumping, ducking and weaving or the cold of the lake.
He sat up after a moment. "Well, that was exciting," he puffed.
"I wonder why they left so quickly," I said. "I mean, I was the last to jump in and by then, the bees had all just about left. Only a few hung around. Or maybe it’s just my imagination . . ."
Ned frowned and hauled me out of the water then joked: "The water probably just got to your brain so you couldn’t think straight."
"No, you’ve got a valid point, Luke," Brooke agreed. "Something else must have caught their attention."
"But what . . .?" Robyn trailed off as her question was answered.