He’s playing Peek-a-Boo.
Costa starts to swim forward, but Amy hauls him back hard and holds up her hand, telling him to stay, to be patient. Costa nods, but it must be excruciating for him to hold still.
Sam points ahead. I can’t see anything, but I don’t need to. Costa’s face tells me that he has Toby in sight. Amy does not let go of him, but her own expression is also one of pure joy. Soon, even I can make out the figure of a small child swimming in our direction, his grace in this underworld immeasurably touching.
Amy was right. He is incredibly fast. His black hair swirls in the waves of the under substance, and his eyes stand out against his fair skin.Of coursethis is Costa’s child. Toby looks just like his father.
It feels like it takes forever for Toby to reach us, but we all remain still. When he’s only a few feet away, Costa holds out his arms, and the young boy swims smoothly into his father’s hold. I don’t need to hear Costa to know the sounds of this reunion.
Amy gives them a moment, but then she taps his shoulder and gestures up. We need to surface. He nods. Amy takes my hand. Her smile is so genuine, and I’m struck by how strong our love is despite such a ragged history. We start to move with Amy pulling me through the dense gel.
When there is more light and we’ve hit the ceiling, Costa gestures for Sam to go with Toby first. Tentatively, Sam takes Toby. I’m not sure what his hesitation is, but he must not want to remove Toby from his father’s arms so soon. But still Sam doesn’t budge, so Costa gives him a reassuring smile and a light push until he gets Sam moving upward. His arm goes through, but then he bounces back.
He shuts his eyes for a moment and tries again. It’s clear that he cannot get past the ceiling.
Oh God. We can’t surface Toby?
There is something we don’t know that’s preventing this child from leaving.
Slowly, Sam lowers back down to Costa’s level. His face is beyond pained as he hands Toby to his father and points up. With this simple action and in a moment that should be overwhelmingly happy, Costa is again destroyed with understanding.
Sam cannot surface Toby because he did not trip him.
Costa did.
Now, Costa is frozen in place, and his grip on his son is slipping. Sam swoops over and pushes Toby back against Costa and secures his arms around his son. Then, he grabs Costa’s face and forces him to pay attention. The two silently exchange an unspoken language of their own, and it’s enough to get Costa moving. His feet begin to kick hard, and he swims to the light, soon vanishing into the surface above us.
Amy pats my shoulder and goes next, moving me into Sam, before she soars up.
Then, Sam and I are alone. I love him so much right now that it hurts. In this dark place, my heart feels lighter than ever. I’m glad that I only needed Costa to surface that first time because I want this moment alone with Sam. I embrace Sam, and together, we leave the bleakness of being under and burst through to the real world.
We’ve all crashed onto the small sandy beach by the lake where the four of us stood not so long ago, preparing to die. Only, this time, there are five of us. Amy is lurching to the cooler that we set out earlier. I’m still in Sam’s arms, trying to catch my breath, when she shoves a piece of watermelon in my mouth. Costa is on his back, eating a slice, with his son lying across his chest.
“Dah-yee!Dah-yee!” Toby giggles.
Costa is hardly able to talk, but he says, “Yes, buddy.Dah-yeeis here.” He presses watermelon against Toby’s lips. “Eat.”
Amy sits next to them. She touches a hand to Toby’s face and then leans down and softly kisses Costa. When she lifts, I see the smile they share, the connection. Just as Sam and I waited so long for each other, so have Costa and Amy.
Toby smacks his mouth as he eats. “Ish!Ish!” he calls.
“Yeah. Sam is here, too. Bishop’s here.” Costa laughs when Toby touches his little hand to his father’s face. “You got my nose, huh?”
“Toby…” Sam says, gasping. “He’s here? Is this real? Is it him, Stella?”
“It’s him. Bishop, it’s him.” I struggle for breath. “It’s Toby.”
I hear Sam sucking on the rind. When I roll over, it’s easy to read the emotion on his face. Yes, he is so full of denial that it slays me.
“Watermelon. Shit, this really works,” he mutters.
I roll over to face him. “Sam…” I whisper.
“Shh. Don’t. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” I push the hair from his eyes. “You took the fall for Costa. He was the one who was tripping too much, wasn’t he?”
Sam doesn’t need to answer me.
“You were sober.” I think for a minute, trying to clear my head of the trip. I take another bite of watermelon. “Thrill seeking. Costa was thrill-seeking on the ice. Jumping, testing how solid it was. Oh God, with his son.” For a moment, I shut my eyes at the horror of the image. “So, it was easy to retell the story and get him to believe your version.”
He tries to smile. “There was no reason for him to know the truth. He had enough to suffer through.”
“It was a big sacrifice. It was everything.” I brush my lips over his. “You’re wonderful, you know that? So brave and so strong. It’s why you’re my good.”
“And it’s why you’re my good. Always, Stella.”
