and I got our breath again and went back under. Down at the flag, we both yanked on the cable and tried to dislodge the giant rock it was tied to. Fucking boulder. It wasn’t budging no kind of way, fuck.
We came up for air and Preacher said, “Need something to dislodge the rock it’s tied to so we can see how the fuck the cable is attached.”
Well shit. I looked around. “We’ll need serious leverage. A long thick branch?”
Preacher nodded and we swam to shore telling the ladies what we needed. We all brainstormed the logistics. The branch couldn’t be too big or it’d be hard to hold under water. And it needed to be freshly cut and not dead. We searched the woods and found what we hoped was the perfect size, cut it and headed back out.
“We should help,” Tara yelled.
“It seems safe enough,” I whispered. “And they could help so we don’t wear ourselves out too bad.”
He nodded. “T-shirt and underwear, ladies. Hurry.”
The anger in his voice said he didn’t like me seeing his Becca. It was hard to imagine he didn’t know how completely blind I was to anybody but Tara. It was damn near mean how little I cared about the body attached to the person he called wife.
We all four went down and finally worked the sharpened edge of the stick between the rocks. We finally got the thing moved and all shot up for air.
“Did you see that?” Becca said, when we surfaced.
“Yes, I saw it,” Preacher said, gasping.
Tara then, “Saw what?” “The cable is attached to the rock!” Becca said.
“Tied?” I asked
“No,” Preacher said, “there’s an iron eyebolt embedded in the rock that the cable runs through.”
Becca nodded. “Then we will have to bring the entire thing up.”
“We can only try,” I said. “We need to pull it along the floor to the edge of the incline and then see how far it is from land maybe.”
We all agreed and went back down, grabbed hold of the metal cable and began pulling the boulder toward the incline. It wasn’t so bad swimming with it in a horizontal direction. The trick would be getting it up.
We surfaced and treaded water silently while we got our wind. Preacher said, “We’ll try to swim it up the incline first. See if that’s even possible. If not, we’ll have to rig up something to tie to it and get it from land.”
We all nodded and went back down only to discover it was three times as hard going up with that weight, due to the incline being too sharp near the bottom. We surfaced and went down ten times and managed only a few feet. At that rate, we’d have it done in four hours and be fucking exhausted.
I fought for enough air to speak. “Let’s go to land and think a little.”
There were no arguments with that idea.
We made it to shore and plopped to the ground exhausted. Wow. Fucking ridiculous.
“We need to search the forest for the right kind of vine,” Preacher said between huffs.
“Vine for what?” Becca wheezed.
“We need to put that thing in a basket, baby.”
“Ahhhh,” Becca sat up and smacked his stomach. “That is brilliant. I can weave a basket in thirty minutes.”
“Yes,” Preacher nodded, “with handles that we can attach vine rope to.”
We wasted no time searching the forest. Becca found something she thought was suitable growing along the trees. Only problem was, we could be allergic to it. Preacher and Becca were apparently immune as they yanked with a ruthless force, stripping the vines away from the tree. It was decided, to be safe, that Tara and I wouldn’t touch it. At the speed they went from tree to tree, yanking off yards in seconds, it’d take them fifteen minutes maybe. But how long to weave a basket, surely she couldn’t do that in thirty minutes.
Once she had the strands she lined them up and wove a sack sized basket in not thirty minutes but maybe fifteen, flat. Preacher helped her and Tara and I stood by, astonished at their speed.
The last thing was tying enough vine to form two
We came up for air and Preacher said, “Need something to dislodge the rock it’s tied to so we can see how the fuck the cable is attached.”
Well shit. I looked around. “We’ll need serious leverage. A long thick branch?”
Preacher nodded and we swam to shore telling the ladies what we needed. We all brainstormed the logistics. The branch couldn’t be too big or it’d be hard to hold under water. And it needed to be freshly cut and not dead. We searched the woods and found what we hoped was the perfect size, cut it and headed back out.
“We should help,” Tara yelled.
“It seems safe enough,” I whispered. “And they could help so we don’t wear ourselves out too bad.”
He nodded. “T-shirt and underwear, ladies. Hurry.”
The anger in his voice said he didn’t like me seeing his Becca. It was hard to imagine he didn’t know how completely blind I was to anybody but Tara. It was damn near mean how little I cared about the body attached to the person he called wife.
We all four went down and finally worked the sharpened edge of the stick between the rocks. We finally got the thing moved and all shot up for air.
“Did you see that?” Becca said, when we surfaced.
“Yes, I saw it,” Preacher said, gasping.
Tara then, “Saw what?” “The cable is attached to the rock!” Becca said.
“Tied?” I asked
“No,” Preacher said, “there’s an iron eyebolt embedded in the rock that the cable runs through.”
Becca nodded. “Then we will have to bring the entire thing up.”
“We can only try,” I said. “We need to pull it along the floor to the edge of the incline and then see how far it is from land maybe.”
We all agreed and went back down, grabbed hold of the metal cable and began pulling the boulder toward the incline. It wasn’t so bad swimming with it in a horizontal direction. The trick would be getting it up.
We surfaced and treaded water silently while we got our wind. Preacher said, “We’ll try to swim it up the incline first. See if that’s even possible. If not, we’ll have to rig up something to tie to it and get it from land.”
We all nodded and went back down only to discover it was three times as hard going up with that weight, due to the incline being too sharp near the bottom. We surfaced and went down ten times and managed only a few feet. At that rate, we’d have it done in four hours and be fucking exhausted.
I fought for enough air to speak. “Let’s go to land and think a little.”
There were no arguments with that idea.
We made it to shore and plopped to the ground exhausted. Wow. Fucking ridiculous.
“We need to search the forest for the right kind of vine,” Preacher said between huffs.
“Vine for what?” Becca wheezed.
“We need to put that thing in a basket, baby.”
“Ahhhh,” Becca sat up and smacked his stomach. “That is brilliant. I can weave a basket in thirty minutes.”
“Yes,” Preacher nodded, “with handles that we can attach vine rope to.”
We wasted no time searching the forest. Becca found something she thought was suitable growing along the trees. Only problem was, we could be allergic to it. Preacher and Becca were apparently immune as they yanked with a ruthless force, stripping the vines away from the tree. It was decided, to be safe, that Tara and I wouldn’t touch it. At the speed they went from tree to tree, yanking off yards in seconds, it’d take them fifteen minutes maybe. But how long to weave a basket, surely she couldn’t do that in thirty minutes.
Once she had the strands she lined them up and wove a sack sized basket in not thirty minutes but maybe fifteen, flat. Preacher helped her and Tara and I stood by, astonished at their speed.
The last thing was tying enough vine to form two
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