The Art of Not Breathing(39)
“See the throne?” Rex points to a little enclave opposite the ledge where I’m sitting that actually looks like a seat. “We always bring a rock or pebble from outside for good luck. We put them up there.”
Rex hauls himself out of the water and scrambles up the rockface to the throne. I notice that the ledge he’s on runs all the way around the cave and back to where I’m sitting. He places his rock in the throne, then somersaults off the ledge back into the water. We watch him sink to the bottom and then zoom back up like a torpedo.
Joey climbs the steps and passes me his stone to add to the collection. It’s a small, heavy one. A wave of vertigo passes over me as I stand and I try not to look down.
Danny grabs my hand. “Don’t, it’s dangerous,” he says. But I shrug him off. Slowly I inch my way around to the throne, keeping one hand against the wall until the ledge widens. Finally I reach the throne and, inside, colored stones sparkle under the rays—red, green, blue. I catch a glimpse of something yellowy-gold among the darker stones toward the back. It’s like stumbling on someone’s treasure. I run my hands over the stones, feeling all the different textures—smooth ones, sharp ones, rough ones. As I reach farther in, my finger gets caught on something. It’s too dark over here to see what it is—a bit of fishing net, perhaps, or some other sea junk. I yank my hand out of the throne and turn around to admire the view. The boat boys are all on the ledge opposite me. Danny’s face is white, like he might keel over. I’m about to ask if he’s okay when Rex yells for me to jump into the pool. I’m not falling for that again. I inch my way back along the ledge, and by the time I reach them, Danny looks normal again but a little agitated.
After the thrill of the ledge, I start to shiver, and Danny says we can’t stay long because the air is too thin.
On the way back, I take more notice of my surroundings and see that the archway is covered in mollusks and blue soft coral that look like hands waving.
“Dead man’s fingers,” Danny explains when we’re back on the boat, and I shudder.
“I’m impressed, Elsie,” Rex says. “You’re quite the diver. You should try jumping off the ledge next time, though. This wuss won’t do it.” He nods to Danny, who rolls his eyes.
“Because it’s f*cking dangerous,” he says.
Back at the Black Fin, while we’re drying off by the fire, Danny says I can keep the wetsuit and the watch.
“It’s a peace offering. You can keep it here, as long as you rinse it after each dive.”
It’s the first new piece of clothing I’ve had for a year. “Thank you.”
He sits next to me as I towel dry my hair.
“I’m sorry if I seem overprotective,” he says. “I can’t help it, knowing about what happened to your brother.”
I stop drying my hair and look at the floor.
“How does your family cope?” he asks. “It must be so hard living here, reminders everywhere, water everywhere.”
I wonder why he can’t see that I don’t want to talk about Eddie with him.
“We manage,” I say. “Why are you so interested?”
He folds his arms. “I don’t know. Sorry. I just remember it. How sad everyone was at the time—it was all anyone talked about for months, and it’s stayed with me, I guess. And now I see you every day, I can’t help thinking about it.”
“I’m sorry I remind you of sad times,” I say, and it sounds more sarcastic than I mean it to. “Thanks for letting me come to the cave.”
“I’m glad you didn’t jump off the ledge. Don’t ever do that jump. Rex is an idiot.”
“Is that why you looked like you’d seen a ghost? Because you thought I was going to jump?”
“What?”
“When I was standing by the throne. You looked really frightened.”
Danny fiddles with a loose thread on his T-shirt. “Oh, aye. I thought you’d jump. Do me another favor: don’t ever go there alone. Promise?”
I nod. I have no intention of going there on my own—I doubt I’d even find it. I walk away feeling slightly uneasy. I’m still angry at Danny for sending Tay away, and his questions felt intrusive, but at the same time, he seems a bit sad and is making an effort to be nice to me. Without warning, my brain suddenly pictures the two of us kissing. I quickly shake the image of Danny away and think of Tay instead.
3
THE NEXT DAY, WE PAINT THE FRONT OF THE CLUBHOUSE AND officially christen it the Black Fin. Mick has ordered a stencil, and when it’s fixed in place—a job that Mick and Danny insist is one that only they can do—I get the pleasure of painting the letters. Mick holds the ladder and keeps telling me what a great job I’m doing, even though Rex is yelling up telling me I’ve missed bits here and there. After, Mick lets me have half a shandy to celebrate, and it immediately makes me lightheaded. Without Tay around, I haven’t spent any time in the boathouse drinking. I still think of him every day and wonder whether he’s thinking of me, but every time I’m off in my own thoughts, Danny pulls me back. It’s like he senses what I’m thinking about and gives me a job to take my mind off it. It doesn’t work, though. I spend the day alternating between imagining myself diving with Tay and picturing kissing Danny. It must be my hormones.