The Blue Hole, Page 3

limestone. He swung outward in a circle, shouting with the enthusiasm of a child as the air blew his hair and his rotation returned him back to the tree the rope was hung. How he managed to not bump into the tree and only skirt the foliage growing out of the earth surprised me, but that’s the kind of life Jordan led. A life of adventure where he found the wonder in everything and everything returned the favor. A life I was glad to be a part of, even if it did scare me at times.

  “Whoops! That could have been bad. Did not think that through,” he chatted to himself. Rope in hand once more he moved away from the blue hole and rushed out toward the center, lifting his feet off the ground at the perfect moment to ensure he received the highest altitude possible. He pulled himself upward as the rope swung outward and twisted himself, letting go and allowing gravity to splash him back to reality.

  Reality struck both of us hard in an unexpected blow, one that would hit as Jordan’s feet broke the surface of the water and his head struck the log that neither of us had realized would float toward the end of his trajectory. The dull thud was muted by the splash that washed over him and I leapt up from the cart and rushed toward the edge of the hole, towel falling as I ran. The log quietly rolled in place, bobbing ever so slowly away from Jordan.

  “Jordan!” I shouted to him, heart racing as I awaited a response, some sign to know that he was as alright as could be after striking his head on a log. He resurfaced, face to the subtly darkening skies with eyes closed. The water calmed. “Jordan?” I walked around the edge in an effort to get closer to him. No movement came from the body that lay in the water. “Jordan!” I could hear my voice crack as emotions began to take over.

  I slowly slipped off my sandals, forcing my body to work against me as I stared into the abyss I knew I must enter. I made my way to the edge. As droplets touched my face I allowed gravity to pull them down until they rolled off onto the rocky surface where I crouched. I closed my eyes, pushing the tears out and took a deep breath. The thunder rolled in the distance as I opened my eyes and leaned forward, allowing gravity to pull me into the water and force me to be enveloped in its grasp.

  I resurfaced, taking another deep breath, and swam toward the center in a frenzy. I had to get Jordan out and make sure he would be okay. The longer I took the less his chances were of awakening shortly and laughing the matter off in a way he normally would. At the same time I would be no help to him if whatever was lurking below decided to now surface, having viewed us as easy prey. I did my best to keep looking forward, each panicked stroke bringing me closer to Jordan. As easy as it was to focus on clawing each stroke to get to him it was just as easy to allow my mind to sink below the surface. The clarity of the blue hole made it appear improbable that you were swimming and instead made it appear as though you were floating on air, where at any moment gravity would take over causing you to plunge toward the center of the earth with nothing to hold on to.

  Reaching Jordan I instinctively shook him, willing him to turn over and swim with me back to safety but it was as though he were in a deep sleep. No longer swimming forward, panic began to truly set in. Not only was he unable to move but we were in the center of the blue hole. I quickly pushed his body toward the wall with one arm as I tread water with the other. The log began to bob back toward us and, having caught its motion with my peripheral vision, I reached out with my treading arm and grabbed on to it as a floatation device. Using my legs I kicked off with the log under one arm and Jordan being pushed by the other. My mind went a mile a minute, uncertain what my next step would be. I was past the point of tears; terror has a way of doing that some times.

  With each kick we slowly made our way to the edge. The wind had picked up, signaling the approaching storm, and the sky was beginning to dim as clouds rolled in. But the distant thunder was just that, distant. We still had time before rain added to the chaos I was experiencing. With only a few meters until we reached the limestone, with its many holds to allow me a firm grasp to better check on Jordan and to put my mind in order, I placed myself between him and the wall. With one final kick I reached out, pulling Jordan and grabbing a crevice with my free hand. The log drifted against the edge and I allowed it to bounce away, no longer useful to our situation. I turned and grabbed Jordan’s arm, pulling him toward me.

  “Come on, Jordan,” I coaxed. “Open your eyes…”

  I placed my free hand under his nose to determine if he was breathing and I could sense the tears welling up as I felt nothing against my skin. I had to get him out. The only positive I could see at this point was that his body was still floating. I briefly let him go as I climbed onto the wall, cautiously finding holds for my feet as I pulled myself up.

  I turned back, feet against the harsh surface, and reached in to grab his arm. Droplets hit the water. Whether they were from the oncoming storm or my own tears I was uncertain but as I pulled him toward the edge a new concern struck me. The wind rustled the leaves as I did my best to pull him onto the wall in a manner that would not cause his skin to tear against the sharp limestone on the surface. Realizing my strength would be unable to lift him without rubbing his body against the harsh surface I placed him back in the water and ran toward the towel that had fallen to the ground nearby. I placed the towel on the edge and grabbed his arms once more then pulled him out of the water, using the towel to soften any scraping that would have occurred.

  With Jordan now flat on his back I turned away from the blue hole. I went over what I knew. We were in the middle of the woods with a golf cart for transportation and one of us was unconscious and not breathing. I knelt next to him, wiping the tears and willing my mind to focus. I bent down and placed my lips on his, taking a deep breath through my nose and pushing the air out of my mouth into his. The force required more than I had imagined. I tried again then sat back up to find that nothing had changed.

  The wind rustled the leaves once more as I bent down to once more apply my breath to him in an effort to reanimate his body, willing for any sign to let me know that things would be alright. In an excited moment I felt air coming from his nose but quickly realized that I had been improperly performing the routine and that the air was actually my own. I pinched his nose and once more took a deep breath then pushed the air into his lungs.

  Amidst the leaves a grinding was heard and it was coming closer. I sat up, realizing that the sound was that of the dirt road crunching beneath the weight of tires. Abandoning Jordan for but a moment I rushed out to the corner.

  “Help!” I shouted, waving frantically as I neared the bend. “Please, somebody!” Tears fell down my face with no restrictions. The SUV turned the corner and paused, noticing me frantically running, arms waving, toward them. A man and woman stared back, eyes widening at the sight of me. I gestured behind me where the woman looked up and put a hand to her mouth as he turned the truck off. She opened the door and stepped out.

  “What’s wrong?” She inquired, looking at first to my face and then to Jordan. Her accent made it clear that, unlike the two of us, they were here not as tourists but as citizens. The man began walking around the truck to us, leaving the door open with keys in hand.

  “He hit his head,” I explained briefly. “We need to get him help, I can’t get him breathing!”

  The woman took my hands. “Ok, why don’t you sit in the back of the truck for us and we’ll take you nearby.” I obliged as she let go of my hands and allowed the pair to rush toward Jordan. I slowly walked toward the back of the truck, unsure of whether to compose myself or to allow my emotions to run free. I opened the back and climbed onto the truck bed, running out of energy from this draining ordeal and the uncertainty that lay ahead. Kneeling against the metal I watched as the man checked on Jordan, applying breathing as well as chest compressions, and the woman used her phone to talk anxiously with the operator on the other end.

  I felt helpless and wiped the stream of tears from my face. Looking up toward the grey sky, I allowed the cool droplets to give me some relief as they gently ca
ressed my face. The woman was no longer on the phone and I could not quite hear her voice under the distant thunder as she talked to the man. I listened to the rumblings and awaited the jarring sound of sirens as the medical team raced toward us in a final effort to save Jordan. It would be a final effort to bring this vacation back to the relaxing escape that was never meant to be.

  ###

  A Note to the Reader:

  I am excited to share my first self-published short story with you and thank you for taking the time to read it. I experienced my first blue hole when visiting the Abaco Islands back in September of 2015, the location being the setting for what you just read. Despite the overall peacefulness there was an eerie feeling that I could not shake, which probably explains why blue holes sometimes go by superstitious names like the “Devil’s Puddle.” Being a visually memorable location, my mind immediately began creating scenarios for future projects.

  While a longer project is still a possible endeavor, I decided to create a short story that used some elements from the bigger picture I initially envisioned. In an attempt to create a story different than what readers may be