Only then did she realize she was sitting in water up to her belly.
If it’s this high here…
She pushed herself onto the seat. Cora still pulled at the oars, but the boat resembled a kid’s wading pool, water nearly to its brim. Finley and Vivian were both on their knees, wildly hurling away handsful while more water splashed in over the sides.
Abilene twisted around. No lightning at the moment, but she could see the diving raft through the downpour.
Twenty feet away? Thirty?
She turned back to Cora. ‘We aren’t gonna make it!’
Cora kept straining at the oars as if she hadn’t heard.
We’ll have to swim for it, Abilene thought. Shit!
She knew they were all capable of swimming such a short distance, even in such rough water. But if it came to that, they’d lose the shotgun and ax.
If we could dump some excess baggage…
She tugged her shoes off. Reaching down behind the seat, she pulled the anchor rope. She found its end, drew it around her waist, and knotted it. ‘Hang in!’ she shouted, then threw herself overboard.
She plunged head first into the lake, thrashed to the surface and trod water for a moment to get her bearings. She was beside the boat, close to its bow. Turning, she spotted the raft. She swam for it. The waves shoved her upward, dropped her, tipped her from side to side. Then the slack of the rope gave out.
The line tugged at her waist, pressed into her groin. She felt as if she’d been yanked to a dead halt. But she kept on jabbing out her arms and drawing them back, kept on kicking in spite of the taut rope wedged between her legs.
She raised her head. The near end of the raft appeared to be no more than ten or twelve feet away.
She switched to the breast stroke and saw the distance close a bit.
We’re not stopped dead, she thought.
The boat seemed to be moving along sluggishly behind her.
She watched the raft as she struggled toward it. The platform was high out of the water, pitching about on the churning lake. She supposed it must be anchored to the bottom with chains. The corner on the right was higher than the lefthand one, tipped upward somewhat because of the sunken oil drum kitty-corner from it.
Attached to the right side of the raft was a wooden ladder.
Abilene swam for it, towing the boat.
The boat seemed to be moving along better, now, the rope no longer straining at her waist or digging into her groin.
She swam alongside the raft, reached out and grabbed a rung of the ladder.
Clinging to it, she looked back. Cora still sat in its center, tugging at the oars. Only the gunwales remained above the water line, and every wave flung more water into the nearly submerged craft.
Finley and Vivian weren’t aboard.
They were stretched out side by side behind the boat, holding onto its stem, kicking.
They’d been pushing it along while Abilene towed it by the rope.
Glancing over her shoulder, Cora shouted, ‘Tie it up!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘To us,’ Cora toasted.
‘Hear hear,’ said the others. They clinked their champagne glasses and drank.
It was a warm June evening three days after graduation. It was to be their last night together in their rented apartment on Spring Street.
Tomorrow, Abilene and Harris would be heading north to Portland where they intended to share an apartment while she embarked on her graduate studies in English literature. Helen would be going home to Coos Bay, where she planned to stay with her parents through the summer. Cora and Tony would embark for Denver to pursue teaching credentials. Vivian and Finley would be travelling together to Los Angeles, Vivian to seek out jobs as an actress and model, Finley to study filmmaking at the Institute for Creative Cinema which had accepted her application on the strength of her ‘Mess Hall’ videotape.
As Abilene sipped her champagne, she felt a lump in her throat. She was glad to be moving on, excited by what lay ahead. But God, she would miss her friends.
‘We’ve got to stay in touch,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ Helen said. ‘You’re the best friends I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’m gonna do…’ Her voice broke.
Abilene squeezed her shoulder. ‘You’ll do fine.’
‘I’ll miss you all so much.’
‘Hey, let’s not get all weepy,’ Finley said. ‘This ain’t a wake, for Christsake.’
‘I know, I know, but…’
‘Here’s to all the great times we’ve had,’ Cora said, hoisting her glass again.
‘They’re all over,’ Helen muttered. ‘We’ll probably never see each other again.’
‘Sure we will,’ Abilene told her. ‘Hell, you’re gonna come to my wedding, aren’t you?’
‘Hickok, you’re such an optimist.’
‘We’ll get married one of these days. And all of you’d better show up.’
‘There’ll be plenty of chances to get together,’ Cora said, nodding at Helen.
‘It won’t be the same.’
‘Everything changes,’ Abilene said.
From the hurt look on Helen’s face, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
‘I mean, that’s life. But the changes don’t have to be bad. There’s no law that says we can’t visit each other from time to time and…’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Vivian said. She’d been sitting in silence, staring into her drink.
‘Hold it,’ Finley said. ‘We’d better jot this down for posterity. Better yet…’ She hopped up from her cushion on the floor, hurried across the room, and snatched her video camera off the dining table.
‘Give it a break,’ Cora protested.
‘No, come on,’ Vivian said. ‘We aren’t dressed.’
‘Sure you are. Unlike the first time I taped you.’
‘You’ve gotten rid of that, haven’t you?’ Abilene asked. ‘Surely you jest.’ She raised the viewfinder to her eye and started taping. ‘Just act natural, babes. You look great. What was your big idea, Viv?’
Vivian, in a sheer black nightgown, frowned at the lens and covered her breasts with the arm that wasn’t busy holding her champagne glass.
‘Don’t worry. Nobody’ll ever see it but us.’
‘So you say,’ Cora remarked. She wore only an oversized T-shirt.
Helen, sitting on a sofa and dressed in a low-cut nightie, reached out and grabbed a corduroy pillow and clutched it to her chest.
At least I’m okay, Abilene thought. She was wearing pajamas. They belonged to Harris. The morning after her first night with him, she’d worn the bottoms and he’d worn the top while she made instant coffee in the motel room. By the time they’d gotten around to drinking the coffee, it had been cold.
Later, she’d packed the pajamas in her overnight bag and he’d laughed. She’d had them ever since.
Finley, wandering about the room and taping everyone from different angles, said, ‘One of these days, we’ll get together and watch all this stuff and have a few laughs.’
‘Sure,’ Helen muttered.
‘Which brings us to my idea,’ Vivian said. ‘Remember? My idea?’
Finley zoomed in on her. ‘Spit it out.’
‘Well…’
Finley turned the camera away to catch Cora.
Cora, on her knees, scurried about the floor and poured more champagne into all the glasses.
Vivian waited until hers was full. She took a drink, then said, ‘Anyway. You know that play, Same Time Next Year?”
‘A movie,’ Finley corrected, swinging the camera toward Vivian.
‘It was a play first.’
‘I haven’t seen it,’ Helen said.
‘You wouldn’t have liked it,’ Abilene told her. ‘Nobody gets chopped up.’