Page 68 of Diving In

Thankfully, I still knew Jack’s hiding spot for the spare key—under the front seat, tied to the blue life jacket. Turning the key, the ignition fired up, rumbling beneath my feet, the vibration easing any lingering doubts.

As the engine purred, I untied all four knots. I rotated my head toward the stern to check for other boats before I backed out, and I caught sight of shiny metal. The diving tanks that Fletcher and Jack used the day of the accident. I could see Fletcher’s name marked in permanent ink from here.

A wave of nausea took over for a few seconds before leaving again. Even stepping foot on this boat was hard for so many reasons, but what I was determined to do right now would be even harder.

With that, I checked my surroundings and slowly began easing the boat out of the slip she’d been residing in for who knew how long. Little by little, I got more comfortable in the captain’s seat until it felt like I’d never left. Driving a boat was like riding a bike if you were a part of the Windsor family—once you learned, you simply never forgot. The boat finally cleared the slip, and a calmness washed over me. I didn’t know if it was the tenderness of the sun grazing my skin or the gentleness of the boat gliding over the water, but either way, I latched onto that feeling.

As I left the marina, multiple boats passed by, each one carrying smiling passengers that were quick to throw a wave in my direction. I returned their greetings with a gentle smile, feeling more and more confident in my decision to stay on Sullivan’s Island. The island had a way of drawing you in, immediately transporting you to a familiar place, a safe place.

People here went out of their way to make you feel special, to acknowledge that you mattered. It wasn’t to make themselves feel better, it was simply out of the goodness of their hearts.

I couldn’t help but think about all the moments that I wanted to relive from the past, all the moments that had been trapped away in a box somewhere. All the moments that had mistakenly been categorized in the “Do Not Remember” box, solely because they had happened here on this island.

Somewhere along the road though, the good moments had gotten lost too. I had tried so hard to forget all the bad ones that I ended up forgetting them all—every last one of them. A box in my memory that had once been sealed so tightly, not even I knew what I’d done with the key.

Until now.

AsThe Naomitrekked out of the cove, I pushed the throttle down a smidge, the boat picking up speed. We moved a little faster through the water as the wind turned from barely a breeze to a comfortable gust. The warmth forced me to take a deep breath in, allowing the salty sea air to take over my senses.

Looking to my left, I saw Mermaid Rock, one of my and Fletcher’s favorites to jump off. It was just big enough that we felt like superheroes but small enough that our parents didn’t have to worry about one of us breaking something.

It got its name because of the way it shimmered out of the water. At first glance, it seemed like you were seeing a mermaid in the flesh. The top of the rock appears as a head and torso, with green moss mimicking long hair, flowing over what would be her breasts. The bottom of the rock angles to the side and flows up into two tail-like points. All the sea creatures hover at the bottom of the tail, emulating little scales.

I remember struggling to see what everyone was talking about. I thought the old people were losing it because I’d never seen a mermaid. Instead, I saw a brown and green rock that was slimy and extremely hard to keep your balance on… especially when trying to keep up with your older brother. However, as I stared at it today, it was clear as day. It wasn’t a rock at all. It was by far the most beautiful mermaid I’d ever seen.

I guess it was true what they said. Everything was about perspective.

It was peaceful asThe Naomijourneyed toward our destination. The spot that had since been abandoned. The closer I got, the more I felt that serenity slipping away, little by little, until it was practically invisible.

The air was sucked straight out of my lungs as I spotted the buoy. I snapped my eyes shut, hoping that would help my breath return to normal. I had already laid eyes on the buoy once today, so I wasn’t prepared for the drastic effect it was having on me this time around.

Before opening my eyes, I repeated the same thing over and over to myself: “It is only a piece of the ocean—a small, tiny piece. There are thousands of pieces floating around you. Don’t get lost in it. Just focus on the right now and the right here.”

I slowly peeked out from under my eyelids, prepared for the rush of emotions. I let the feelings in, controlling them just enough to not let them completely consume me. The sadness, the helplessness, and the emptiness were all rearing their ugly heads.

The sadness hit me when I realized this was the last thing Fletcher saw before he died. At that, a single tear fell from my left eye and trickled down my cheek.

The helplessness I felt fell to the pit of my stomach with so much force it almost brought me to my knees. I scanned through all the what-ifs before forcing myself to stop.

The emptiness surrounded me as I stood onThe Naomiby myself, wrapping my brain around the fact that I would never again be on this boat with Fletcher or Jack.

Doing my best to regain some semblance of control, I took one massive deep breath, and as I felt the cold air move its way into my lungs, something inside my brain triggered and my perspective changed.

Just as it had with Mermaid Rock, I was able to see things differently.

Instead of sadness, I was overcome with relief. Relief knowing that Fletcher was able to be in this spot, day after day, doing the one thing he loved more than anything in this world.

My helplessness transformed into recognition. Recognition that Jack and Cal had done everything they could and more to save Fletcher, and sometimes things were just beyond our control.

And my emptiness turned into gratefulness. Gratefulness that while Fletcher’s time on this earth was cut short, I was lucky enough not only to know him, but to have him as a big brother and a best friend.

With the shift in perspective came a flutter of hope, a spark of optimism, and a breath of fresh air. The air was so clean and vibrant that I couldn’t help but notice the smile spreading slowly across my face.

It was that same feeling you get when the air turns hot enough to open the sunroof and drive around with country music blasting. A feeling that I hadn’t thought about in a while, let alone felt.

I cut the engine as the boat neared the buoy. I balanced my way to the bow, freeing the anchor hidden below. Like driving a boat, I found myself running through the familiar motions of anchoring it, grinning when I felt it latch tightly onto something below. I tugged at it a few times to confirm it was secure.

The buoy bobbed up and down, synchronizing with the waves, and I was proud. Proud of myself for taking a leap of faith and returning to the island, for coming back to this spot, and for doing something that had been completely unplanned. Something spontaneously wonderful.

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