Page 17 of Leveling

Chapter 12

When Luna steppedonto the lower level landing her foot splashed in a puddle. She pushed open the door to floor 118, to see the doused carpet’s colors had become dark, vibrant, wet. Her paddleboard wasn’t floating, yet, but rocked on its axis and fin. As she neared the opening in the windows, water lapped over, onto the floor.

She untied the rope from its anchorage and heaved her raft with Tree to the opening and dropped it down to the water. It bobbed, tilted, and tipped, “Shhhhh, Boosy, it’s okay, you’re okay,” before righting itself. Next she shoved her paddleboard into the water while pushing Boosy away with her foot to make space. Once her watercraft was afloat and tied together, she boarded it, and paddled away from the Outpost by ten strokes.

The whole ocean was glassy and calm. In the morning, noises seemed amplified, like the water wasn’t awake yet, and her paddle splash was vibrant and sparkly. It was different from the afternoon when the lapping of the ocean buffered and overcame all other noises. Luna turned right and paddled long strokes fast and strong and fearless. She got into a rhythm—stroke, stroke, stroke. She switched sides—stroke, stroke, stroke.

Beckett’s voice called, “Hello, coffee is on!”

Luna arced to look up to the rooftop. He was difficult to see because he was about ten feet back from the edge.

She teased, “Come closer, I can’t hear you!”

He counter-teased with, “What? I can’t hear you, I’m a safe distance from the edge!” Even from across the way, she could see his dimples. She rather liked his smile and wished he would come down and paddle with her. He dropped away, back to his work.

She passed the marks on the corner and turned, sprinting along that length, passing the final corner. She was proud of her speed. To celebrate her awesome force she spun the paddleboard in a wide circle and then went around the other way, watching Boosy and Tree spin and follow in her wake.

After about a half-hour she pulled to the opening with a bump.

Beckett had come down from the rooftop to meet her and confronted with the wet carpet had lost all of his morning cheer. Now he was back to thinking of nothing but water level marks and was kneeling, checking for the fortieth time. And it was pointless really, the water had clearly risen. Anyone could see.

She stepped to the floor and tied her paddleboard with a good strong anchor hitch.

Still in his kneeling position, he said, “I think I better, um...” He stood and attempted to brush the water off the knees of his pants. “I need to feed you before your journey.”

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