Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,56
it along the hair on his forearm, the blade slicing easily. It was sharp enough for Cheezer as he returned the knife to Hemingway and moved onto the next man, his voice raised as he dished out harassment like candy.
The group screwed in their cartridges and pulled up their wetsuit hoods. “Hit the surf,” Walker yelled and all of them started for the ocean.
The icy water burned as it moved up his legs, the pain culminating when the frigid ocean smacked into his balls. Together he and Professor sat down in the surf to put on their fins.
The swims were nothing but mind over matter, and he had one of the best swimmers in the class as his swim buddy.
“Ready?”
“Hoo-yah,” Professor said, pulling on his mask.
They side stroked through the surf, diving for the bottom when a breaker rolled in. Hemingway fell into a comfortable rhythm. Swim pairs were required to stay close together, demanding a mutual understanding of pacing, and a healthy dose of courtesy. If the lead swimmer was pulling away, he would back off the pace a little, and if a swimmer wanted to change sides, he would tap his partner on the shoulder. They fell into a groove as they reached the orange buoy that marked the starting line.
As they bobbed in the current, Professor said, “Go for first?”
“Hoo-yah!”
“Go,” Instructor Manchester said from the boat, and Hemingway stroked strongly with his fins, Professor keeping pace beside him. They swam north toward the turnaround buoy that would mark halfway. With each stroke and kick, Hemingway corrected his angle to make sure to stay on course and to preserve energy. The sky and the murky ocean seemed to merge as he propelled himself forward, the briny smell of salt water mixed with gasoline.
They moved around the buoy and headed back toward the instructor. They reached the boat easily under the time.
“Get me something nice from the bottom.” Manchester smirked. “Cheezer said you were having a barrel of fun on the sand.”
“Hoo-yah, Instructor Manchester,” they said in unison. Diving down, Hemingway went for a rock on the sandy bottom. When he emerged, Professor was handing over his.
“Get back to the beach.”
They turned over and swam on their backs, riding the swells and resting. Once they hit the edge of the sand, both of them stood.
“Brown!” Hitchcock yelled beyond the pounding breakers as, all of a sudden, they were picking up, the surf hiking. Hemingway turned toward Hitchcock’s voice, and it was clear he was alone.
“What the hell?” Professor said.
“He’s lost him. Let’s go.”
They fell back into the water and headed toward Hitchcock, who surfaced and looked around frantically. “I can’t find him! We were together and then he was just gone.”
“Okay. Professor, stay with Matt. I’ll look for him.”
“No fucking way. You’re my swim buddy, and we’re not separating.”
“Fine. We’ll go together.”
They slipped below the surface. Hemingway immediately started kicking, struggling against the buoyancy of his wetsuit top. Visibility sucked with the capping waves churning up the bottom and making it very easy to get turned around and disoriented.
He refused to give up even when his lungs started to burn. Then he saw Brown, floating with the movement of the waves. Kicking hard with his fins, Hemingway torpedoed toward the motionless man.
Grabbing the back of his life vest, Hemingway swam for the surface, Professor right beside him. When they emerged, two corpsmen were there in a boat, and they reached for Brown, his temple bleeding from a gash. Together the four of them hauled Brown into the boat, and then motored to shore. There was already an ambulance waiting on the beach.
Together with Hitchcock and Professor, Hemingway made it to shore. They removed their fins and walked out of the surf.
“You three, over here!” Walker screamed. They double timed it to Walker and came to attention. Walker looked like he could chew glass. “What happened? Who is Brown’s swim buddy?”
“I am, sir. I lost him in the surf. The waves took him, and I looked for him, but couldn’t find him.”
“And, you two?”
“We went to help. Matt was exhausted, and we didn’t want him to go under too. Never leave a man behind.”
“You stuck together?”
“Yes, sir. Every step of the way. It looks like Brown hit his head on the bottom from the power of the crashing waves, and they kept him under. It was an accident.”
Walker stood there for a moment looking past them to the huge breakers. “All right. Get to decon and then it’s the O-course.”
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