Breathing
It was something about water.
It was something about the sting of chlorine in his nostrils, his lungs burning with the need to breathe, the strain on the muscles as you propelled yourself through matter thicker than air. It was diving into liquid that, if not speared properly, would feel solid upon impact, beating your skin red, flushing air from your chest, white bubbles spiraling to the surface.
Human beings are on average fifty-seven percent water. It differed depending on how old you were. But for most of his life, Danny felt as though he was more than that. Like he was made of so much water that one day he might open his eyes and find that he’d never come up for air.
At the bottom of the pool, you could hear nothing but moving water. Everything was clear and hazy at the same time. A fog of blue, the white floor dappled by the light hitting the surface, which, from down there, looked like a great silvery portal to somewhere else. Someplace Danny would like to not be in every now and again.
A bubble issued from his lips and floated its way up to the silvery world and Danny closed his eyes.
Weightless. Everything felt weightless here.
Danny?
And cool...and soft…
Danny?
He opened his eyes a fraction. Looking into the mirror world over him, he saw a distorted shape, peering into his blue world. It didn’t look familiar to him, and it did at the same time. Maybe it was him getting lightheaded from being underwater so long.
After all, no matter how many stars he wished on when he was little, he never actually did grow gills.
Danny, you okay…?
A hand pushed from the mirror and towards him. He smiled at it, because this, at least, he recognized.
Rope. Lifeline. Tied to a mast, out at sea.
He reached up with his own hand, the dark ink of the word “Courage” so striking against the light, and clasped it. The hand gripped him firmly and pulled him through the looking-glass and back into the light.
Breathing in deep, his lungs eased open to receive the air. The burning in his chest stopped and he blinked into the harsh sunlight, struggling to see through the chlorinated water drops that still clung onto his eyelashes.
There was a familiar laugh from the warm hand that held his wrist. “Hey.”
Danny blinked through the liquid and coughed out a laugh, grinning. Now the voice that had penetrated the water was clearer. And he recognized it easily. “Hey yourself, Wes.”
Wes was crouched at the edge of the school pool, fully clothed in his uniform still, but with the one sleeve rolled up. His tanned hand still curled protectively around his wrist, tight as a rope to the mast. “Up for a really early dinner or a really late lunch? Been awhile. They opened a new sandwich place.”
“You eat common sandwiches now?” Danny smirked, knowing fully well that he did.
“Excuse me, I love sandwiches,” Wes replied, stating facts they both knew. “If done right. And no panini, god help me, but no.”
Danny laughed, shaking his head. “So you came down here, pulled me out of the water for sandwiches?”
“Well…” Wes dragged the syllable out in a lighthearted tone, but Danny saw the slight, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it falter in his smile, “figured you were down there a while enough.”
Danny smiled down at the hand over his wrist. “I like water.”
--
“Danny?! Danny!!”
Frantic hands hauled him out of the claw-foot tub, and he was coughing into the air, alarmed. Hands gripped both his arms and when the fright cleared from his eyes, he saw Wes staring at him, young, wild-eyed, face white as a sheet. Danny stared back at him. “What? What?!”
Wes took several breaths, staring at him, before letting it all out in a breath. “I thought—” he choked. “Sorry, I…”
Danny was momentarily confused, and it wasn’t until Wes released his arms, leaving fingermarks over his shoulders, that he realized why Wes was frightened. He had forgotten himself again, buried deep in the water of the tub, losing the world, so desperate to forget phone calls and divorce talk. Lost in the weightless world, he didn’t need air.
“Sorry—” Wes was still saying, seemingly fighting to get the words out, like he was drowning. “I thought you— I kinda just— I didn’t mean to assume—”
Danny smiled at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He didn’t realize what it was like to have someone care when he vanished from the world. “I’m okay,” he told him, hoping he’d understand. “I like water.”
Wes had stared at him, but nodded, the held breath flooding out. “Yeah...yeah, you do, of course… Sorry.”
--
“Sorry,” Wes said, staring at him when he’d gone silent. “I was interrupting you? I can wait while you swim some more if you wanna stay in.”
“Stop saying sorry to me,” Danny rolled his eyes. He pulled himself out of the water and sat on the edge next to him. It didn’t seem to bother Wes that Danny just got some very expensive shoes wet. Danny took a deep breath. “Was in there long enough anyway.”
“You sure…?” Wes looked doubtful. “How do you stay down there so long, anyway? D’you finally learn to breathe underwater?”
Danny laughed. “Nah...if I could, d’you think I’d ever get out again?”
Wes smiled but was unsure. “...would you…?”
The pool water’s surface looked blue, and silver, and gold. Below his knees, the water felt like a different world, his legs still through a mirror that led to a place of safety. A place to get lost in and vanish every once in a while. He couldn’t recognize his reflection on the surface.
He looked at Wes, who had hauled him out every time. Lungs not burning. Not weightless, but lighter. The world in the air was harsher than the haze of the water, too stark, too hot, too bright. But he could breathe.
He nudged him with an elbow, leaving a damp patch on the rolled-up sleeve. ‘Courage’, said the letters on his wrist.
“It’s easier to breathe here.”
