Breathe.
Watch.
Move.
Stay here.
Everything else had to wait above the surface.
“That’s the idea,” I said.
The wind pulled damp strands of hair across her face.
I wanted to move them.
I didn’t.
Hank was close enough to develop another opinion.
The ride back was quiet.
Annie sat beside me, her knee resting against mine.
She either did not notice or had chosen not to move.
I liked both possibilities.
At the shop, Captain Pancake greeted us with the emotional restraint of a dog who had been abandoned for an entire hour and forty minutes.
He pressed himself against Annie’s legs.
She bent to pet him.
“You survived,” she said.
“He stayed inside.”
“He had an emotional journey.”
Captain Pancake looked deeply grateful to be understood.
Hank began unloading tanks.
“You two rinse gear.”
It was a normal instruction.
The look he gave me before walking away was not.
Annie and I carried the equipment to the rinse station.
She peeled her wetsuit down to her waist and began spraying salt from the vest.
I focused on the regulator in my hands with sudden, intense professional interest.
“You’re very quiet,” she said.
“I’m working.”
