Journey to Atlantis by Philip Roy

over the ocean. I felt an urge to grab the toys so that they wouldn’t be wasted but there were too many of them. And what would I do with them? Where would I keepthem? Then the light of the flashlight fell across pictures on the sides of other boxes and I saw two things that I really did want: motorized toy boats and pellet-rifles. I figured the motorized boats would come in handy somehow. And the pellet rifles? Well … I had always wanted one, and never got one.
    Problem was, those boxes were wedged in tightly on the far side of the container. I tried to dislodge them by pulling on some other boxes, but it didn’t work. Lots of boxes drifted past me and went out the hole. If I wanted the guns and boats I had to climb inside the container, and that was just not a good idea. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I even said out loud that it wasn’t a good idea. I said it loudly as I climbed inside and reached out with the gaff. The guns and boats weren’t far away; I just had to reach … but my weight shifted the balance of the container. It tilted suddenly and I dropped the flashlight. Now I couldn’t see, except for the light around the hole, but that was partly blocked by the boxes drifting out of it. I should have paid attention to that too, because that was changing the buoyancy of the container. I just wanted those guns and boats so much, and I was almost there … just a little further … and … the container started to sink!
    One would think that a sinking container would be enough to make anyone panic and forget about a couple of toys, but I made one last desperate lunge for the box of pellet rifles, and in so doing, wedged my rope tightly into the jagged metal of the hole. I took a deep breath as the two feetof air in the container was very suddenly replaced with seawater and the whole thing no longer had any reason to stay afloat. On one hand, it was great that I didn’t panic; panicking at sea is always dangerous. On the other hand, I had grown a little too comfortable in such situations, knowing I could hold my breath for two full minutes. That wouldn’t help me much at the bottom of the sea.
    As the rope grew taut, the container, the toys and myself, began to descend. Still, I knew there was a small safety feature in the fact that the container was moored to the sub by two of its corners, even if just loosely. Surely the sub’s buoyancy would keep the container from sinking more than a few feet. What I hadn’t foreseen was that I had tied the two ropes to the top of the portal, so that as the container started down, it merely pulled the sub over.
    It was, in fact, about to pull it upside-down! Suddenly I thought of Hollie and flung myself out the hole. The rope was caught but I pulled it with all my might. I had one second of panic before I was able to pull it free. Looking up about ten feet, I saw the sub being pulled down onto its side. I reached one side of the container and freed one of the ropes. I was now about fifteen feet below the surface and the side of the portal was just about touching the surface. Waves must have been rushing inside the sub. I reached the other rope and pulled hard. Please! Please, let go! Slowly, but what felt like forever, the rope loosened from the other corner. I let it go. The sub was on its side. I stared up at it, nearly twenty feet above me. Boxes kept floating out of the container anddrifting up past me. “Please right!” I said to the sub, begging … and then it did.
    As I swam up to the surface, I looked down and watched the container slowly disappear beneath me. I wondered how far it would fall before the pressure would flatten it like a tin can. I swam over to the sub and climbed up.
    “Are you okay in there, Hollie?”
    I heard his excited bark. Thank Heavens he was okay. I looked up in the sky and saw Seaweed gazing down, probably wondering what the heck I was doing. I waved.
    “It’s okay, Seaweed,” I shouted. “Just a stupid mistake.”
    “Stupid”