Work Text:
Through Water, Like Glass.
by Joyful
AuntMelba1@aol.com
~*~*~*~
"ILuis! IAyúdame!" The little girl screamed as she tried to hang on to the rundown boat. Damp hands clung to each other as the eight-year-old boy tried to pull his little sister into the skiff. The waves were just too much for their small bodies. Her tiny hands slipped through his fingers, and he watched terror corrupt her dark eyes as she dropped beneath the onyx surface of the night ocean.
~*~*~*~
Luis Mendoza woke up in a cold sweat. He pushed the dream aside, locking the memory away again. He thought it was shut away for good, but yesterday he saw the Eden Hall crew team practicing on the lake, and suddenly that memory pushed the door off its hinges. Seven years. He never spoke Yoli's name, never mentioned his baby sister. It was easier to pretend she didn't exist.
"Luis? You okay, man?" Dwayne asked from the next bed.
"Está bien," Luis said. "I'm fine." Dwayne was used to this. Generally, when Luis first woke up, he forgot English. He had to clear his head and remember where he was. "Bad dream," he told his roommate. "No big deal. Let’s get ready for breakfast." It was spring, so hockey season was over, but that didn’t mean that their lives were all that easier. They had to take PE in the spring, since they didn’t have daily practices. All of the Ducks also took more electives and extra-curricular activities in the spring, to boost their GPAs. Luis had joined the Spanish Club, thinking it would be an easy extra credit, but after the president transferred schools, he suddenly found himself in charge.
Luis got dressed and followed Dwayne down to breakfast. He was still a bit shaken from his dream, but he tried to not let it bother him.
"Does anyone know what we’re doing for PE today?" Luis asked, biting into an apple.
"No," Adam Banks said. "Coach Prentice just said to change into our gym clothes and meet him outside."
"Oh, I hope it’s soccer," Luis said. A couple of people agreed. He finished his breakfast and headed off to class.
~*~*~*~
PE came after lunch. Luis changed into his gym clothes and waited for the coach outside. He felt the warmth of the spring sun on his bronze skin. Luis loved PE. He loved moving around, exercising, running fast. And ever since he started at Eden Hall he’d been learning all sorts of new things, like fencing, horseback riding and polo. He was wondering what they’d do today when Coach Prentice showed up.
"Alright, boys," Coach Prentice said from behind the boys, making them jump a bit. "Today we’re starting our crew unit."
"Crew?" Luis asked, blanching a bit. "With boats, and water?" The other boys laughed, but Adam could see Luis was visibly shaken. For an instant, Adam wondered if Luis could control the weather, for the clouds got a bit darker while Prentice began explaining the rules.
"Don’t worry, Luis," Adam said. "I’ve been doing this for years. Sit by me, you’ll be okay." Luis swallowed and nodded a bit. Adam remembered Luis saying once that he didn’t swim. Not couldn’t, but didn’t. Everyone had thought it was strange, since Luis was from Florida.
"You don’t like water, do you?" Adam asked softly as he helped Luis into a life preserver. Luis shook his head. "Crossing. Bad," Was all that Luis could reply. Luis allowed himself to be led into the boat, his breaths becoming quick and shallow. Luis gripped the seat as two seniors untied the boat from the dock.
Adam watched Luis shake as they rowed into the middle of the lake. Luis could barely move his oar. A spring breeze blew over the boat, sprinkling Luis with water. As the water sprayed his face, and a bolt of lightening streaked across the sky, he let out a bloodcurdling scream. Everyone turned and looked at Luis. He had slipped off the seat into the bottom of the boat, and was curled up in a little ball. His face was streaming with tears as he spoke in rapid Spanish that even the A students couldn’t translate.
"We’ve got to row back to shore," the crew captain ordered, and the boys picked their oars back up and moved as quickly as they could. Though it took only a few moments to return to the dock, it felt like hours. At the dock, Coach Prentice lifted Luis out of the boat with the strength of a former pro-football player, and carried him towards the school, while one of the senior boys ran ahead for the nurse. Adam and Dwayne followed after Luis, quiet and disturbed. They didn’t quite understand what was happening to their friend and teammate, and they were useless to help him.
Luis was shaking as he was brought into the infirmary, mumbling in Spanish, and occasionally crying out.
"¡Yolanda!" Luis cried out. "¡Perdóneme por favor! ¡No lo pensé!" Luis repeated the phrase over and over again. Adam looked over at Dwayne as they sat with their friend, holding his hands tightly. Adam took Latin and French, but he knew Dwayne spoke some Spanish.
"What’s he saying?" Adam asked the cowboy.
"He’s calling out to someone named Yolanda. He keeps saying ‘Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it.’ I’ve seen him freak out before, after a bad nightmare, but never like this," Dwayne said, concerned.
"It started because of the crew," Adam said. "Luis doesn’t like water. He said something about the crossing before."
"He never really talks about his childhood," Dwayne responded. "I mean, I know he’s from Cuba, and they escaped to Florida when he was a kid, but I don’t know much more than that."
"None of us do," Adam replied. "Luis has never been one to talk about the past." The two boys continued to try and comfort their friend, holding his hands, and Adam rubbed Luis’ back as the Cuban boy curled up into a ball on the infirmary bed. After about twenty minutes, the nurse came back with a sedative. Adam left to call Luis’ mom, and tell the rest of the Ducks what was going on, but Dwayne stayed by his friend and roommate. He held Luis’ hand and kept talking to him about inane things in a jovial manner, while the darker boy’s shakes started to ease up, and he started to drift off to sleep.
~*~*~*~
Luis found himself in a boat, alone, on the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight. Ahead of him he saw a bright light. Yolanda walked across the water to him.
"Don’t cry, Luis," she said walking towards him.
"I killed you," he told the small girl. "I let go, and you drowned."
"It wasn’t your fault, silly. You were a little kid. I don’t blame you. Please don’t blame yourself." She walked over to him, and threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "I love you, hermano."
~*~*~*~
Luis opened his eyes slowly. The bright light of the infirmary made him blink a few times before looking over. He saw his Dwayne sitting next to him, leaning back in the chair, his cowboy hat tipped over his eyes. Luis started to sit up, and Dwayne startled away.
"Hey," Dwayne said.
"Hola," Luis said, rubbing his eyes a bit. "What happened?"
"You don’t remember?" Dwayne asked.
"I remember going outside for PE, but nothing after that makes any sense."
"Well, Coach had us go out on the lake, for a crew lesson, and you started to shake a bit. Then there was some thunder and rain, and you freaked out. You started crying and shaking, and screaming in Spanish. You kept saying things like ‘Yolanda, please forgive me, I didn’t mean it.’ The nurse said it looked like you were having a flashback, like Post-Traumatic-Stress or something like that."
Luis nodded. He took a deep breath, and started to explain. "I don’t do well with water. When I was eight, we fled Cuba, all of us in a tiny boat. A big storm came on, and my little sister fell out of the boat. I tried to pull her back in, but my hand slipped, and she drowned."
Dwayne nodded. "You do know it wasn’t your fault, right?" Dwayne said, and Luis sighed.
"Logically, yes. But I can’t help but think that if I’d held on tighter, she’d still be here."
"Luis, you’re Catholic, right?" The boy nodded. "Then you know that God has a plan and a reason for anything. It seriously sucks that your little sister died, but it’s not your fault." Dwayne took Luis’s hand in his again and squeezed it gently. "Sometimes it helps to talk about things. I’ll always be there to listen," Dwayne promised in is deep Texan drawl.
"Gracias, amigo," Luis said, with a smile, as he drifted back to sleep, some of the sedative still in his system.
*end*