Breathless

Pam Withers

Orca soundings

Copyright © Pam Withers 2005

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

Withers, Pam
Breathless / Pam Withers.

(Orca soundings)
ISBN 1-55143-480-6

I. Title. II. Series.

PS8595.I8453B74  2005    jC813’.6    C2005-904466-7

First published in the United States, 2005
Library of Congress Control Number: 2005930531

Summary: Beverly gets into serious trouble when
her starvation diet interferes with her scuba diving.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.

Cover design: Lynn O’Rourke
Cover photography: Firstlight.ca

Orca Book Publishers
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Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4

Orca Book Publishers
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www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada
Printed on 50% post-consumer recycled paper,
processed chlorine free using vegetable, low VOC inks.

08  07  06  05 •  4  3  2  1

Dedicated to my dive buddy,
Shannon Young.

With special thanks to our instructor,
Darren Moss, to B.C. Dive and Kayak
and to Kathy Guild
.

Chapter One

I was okay until that toothy moray eel appeared. It came out of nowhere in the murky water and veered straight at me—honest. It was like it wanted a head-on collision with my mask.

Now, I’m not a girl easily scared by a fish. But here’s the deal about scuba diving: The water magnifies objects one-third larger than they really are. So it seemed like some giant mutant was attacking me. Besides, I learned scuba diving in the lakes around Winnipeg, where I live. And this was only my second day of visiting my uncle in Kauai, Hawaii, over Christmas break. So I didn’t know that I was supposed to wear more weights on my weight belt. As it turns out, tropical water floats you higher than the cold stuff in Manitoba lakes. Even if you’re a fat, ugly fifteen-year-old like me, it floats you higher.

Okay, so I’m not fat. I’m pudgy. And I’m not as ugly as that freaky fish was, for sure. It scared me. I’d already been struggling with staying close by my uncle, thanks to having too many weights on. So I lifted my hand to scare away the eel, and that accidentally tore the regulator out of my mouth. The regulator is the mouthpiece that connects to your oxygen tank. It lets you breathe.

Knocking the regulator out of my mouth made me swallow a little water, which made me panic. And the thing about panicking when you’re forty feet under the ocean’s surface is that you can drown, and you know you can drown. In fact, you can’t breathe without your regulator even if you’re not panicking. You’re also not supposed to hold your breath, because there’s pressure underwater. That means if you’re not breathing out bubbles while the regulator is out, your chest might expand until it explodes. Not really. But something like that. I finished my scuba diver certification a year ago, but I can’t remember everything.

So I was exhaling. But before I got the regulator back in, I was flailing around, and my arm—the one trying to scare the eel away—was all tangled in my regulator hose. And I swallowed some water before I got the regulator back into my mouth. That made me feel sick. So now I was sick to my stomach and full-on scared. Now, I don’t want to get gross and all, but here’s the truth: If you throw up when you’re forty feet underwater and trying to breathe on a regulator, it’s okay. Honest! Scuba diver gear is made to take that. Can you believe it? I mean, it lets you keep breathing in between upchucking. Otherwise I wouldn’t still be around.

So I was breathing and barfing and crying and kicking around, certain I was going to die. But my Uncle Tom, who’s my favorite uncle, was great. He swam right in front of me and locked his reassuring blue eyes on mine. He made sign language to tell me to breathe slowly. And he rested his hands on my shoulders. It worked. Just knowing he was there. Him being a scuba diving instructor and all. He owns his own dive shop, runs diving trips and stuff. That’s why I was in Kauai over Christmas, because one of his two employees had quit. He knew he couldn’t replace the guy until January. He knew I loved diving and figured I could help out during my break. So he paid my airfare all the way from Winnipeg. Pretty nice, I say.

I was glad he was with me when I was panicking. If I was going to drown, it might as well be with him beside me, being nice to me. But like I said, the regulator kept me breathing until I was finished being sick. And then, kicking his flippers, he steered us up to the surface. Nice and slowly. If you don’t do things right in scuba diving, bad stuff can happen.

The shop assistant who still works for Uncle Tom found that out the hard way. Her name is Weniki. That’s Hawaiian for “Wendy.” She’s deaf because of a diving accident. It was a couple of years ago. Now she just rinses diving gear in the shop. Or fills tanks and does stuff on the computer for him. But she’s not very friendly. She has hardly said a word to me since I got to Kauai. It’s not because she’s deaf. She can talk if she wants to. Even though she hardly ever does, to anyone. She’s just a sour old middle-aged lady who doesn’t like kids. At least, that’s what I think. So I mostly ignore her.

Anyway, Uncle Tom got me to the surface without me drowning.

“Beverly, you’re okay. Take some deep breaths. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Tom,” I said, lowering my mask and trying not to cry.

He hesitated. I could see he was surprised I’d panicked and was disappointed in me. But he was trying to be nice. “You swallowed a bit of water?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“More than you could handle. But you did get the regulator back in. I didn’t have to help you there, Beverly.” That must’ve been the only positive thing he could think of to say. He really was trying to be nice.

“Good thing.”

He frowned. “Guess we shouldn’t have gone so deep on our first dive together. My fault.”

“No. My fault. I shouldn’t panic so easily. I’m really sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

He nodded and patted my shoulder. I could tell he didn’t believe me. “Rest here as long as you like, Beverly. Then we can head to shore.” The two of us were hanging in the water beside our little dive buoy. “Unless you want to dive some more.”

He had to be joking. I hoped he was joking. I didn’t answer, and I couldn’t look at him. I felt ashamed. Would he let me dive again after this?

“Beverly,” he said after a minute, “I think you might benefit from a refresher course in a swimming pool before we go diving again.”

I hung my head and nodded a little.

“I know you’re a good diver. Your dad tells me you’re a good diver. But I think it wouldn’t hurt to do a refresher course. Just to boost your confidence. Okay with you?”

Confidence. Not my best quality, for sure. I’d failed today. He had no confidence in me. I nodded my head again.

Uncle Tom slapped me gently on my back, gave me a beaming smile, and we set off for the beach. The beach with all the bikinied girls and their dark tans. I sighed. Even if I hadn’t just stepped off a plane from Winnipeg, my skin as white as the ice on our lakes, I’d look like a fish out of water lying next to them. Or rather, like a beached, blubbery whale.

I hate skinny girls. I’ve never been one. And I hate how they always get asked out. Just before I left Winnipeg for the holiday break, my best friend was the only one besides me in our crowd who wasn’t going out with anyone. In other words, all our other friends were never around anymore for good times. Then she got asked out for the December Dance. So guess who’s the last one standing now.

But I got lucky. I didn’t have to go to the December Dance because Uncle Tom invited me to Kauai instead.

As I sat on the airplane, I made myself two promises. During this break, I’d lose ten pounds if it killed me. And sometime soon, I’d get myself a boyfriend, whatever it took.