Flailing with her arms, Joana clawed her way back to the surface. The cramp in her leg hurt her terribly, forcing the lower part of her leg to jacknife up against the back of her thigh. She coughed, and slipped beneath the surface again. Chlorine-tasting water filled her mouth and her throat. She tried to shout and a big bubble of air wobbled from her mouth.
I've got to get out of here!
She reached toward the surface and tried to kick her legs. It brought a spasm of agony to the cramped muscle, and Joana found herself somersaulting deeper.
She lost all sense of direction, but somehow broke through again to the air. She tried desperately to fill her lungs, but water and phlegm blocked the passages. Only a few yards away the people danced on. Joana tried to call to them, but only a tiny sound came out. Several people looked over at her, smiled, waved, and kept on dancing.
Then she was under again. A great roaring filled her ears. Splotches of light danced before her eyes as the world began to grow dim.
This can't be happening!
Her brain sent messages that her muscles never received.
This is ridiculous. You don't drown in an apartment swimming pool with fifty people right over there and your boyfriend coming in a minute with two cans of beer.
Her arms and legs felt weighted with pounds of lead. She could no longer feel the pain from the cramped muscle, but it didn't matter since she couldn't move anything anyway. She saw mostly blackness now, with flashes of bright turquoise water.
God, I don't want to die! I'm only twenty-five years old and I haven't really done anything.
There was a ringing inside her head, hollow and echoing. All around her was dark. Her head ached fiercely. She had to breathe. She opened her mouth and pulled in water. Something inside her chest lurched, and there was no more pain.
Glen Early had watched Joana dive cleanly into the pool and glide across just below the surface of the water, graceful as a dolphin. She really looked great. Better still, she was bright and she was fun to be with. She broke the surface and laughed out of the sheer joy of being alive.
He dug two icy cans of Michelob out of one of the tubs and pulled a couple of big styrofoam cups from a stack on the table. Joana even enjoyed drinking beer, for God's sake, and liked baseball. Glen felt like a very lucky young man.
He looked over toward the crush of people disco-dancing on the deck. Most of them lived here in the Marina Village complex, others he hadn't seen before. Some, like Peter Landau, were recurring guests.
Peter was putting on a show. Glen had to admire the grace and confidence he put into the dance steps. Quite a few of the girls were watching him rather than their own partners. The guy had something, all right. But he didn't have Joana.
Why, Glen wondered, did all these people look so much alike to him tonight? Young, untroubled, their faces unetched by any sign of character. Living here, Glen should have been one of them, yet he never quite felt as though he fitted in. He liked a party and a good time well enough, but he had a strong sense of responsibility. He thought a lot about the future, and about the world outside the Marina, two subjects which seldom concerned his neighbors. Joana, he felt, was different too. She could be as joyful and full of hell as any of them, but when he wanted to talk seriously, she would listen. Really listen. And she had ideas too. Yes, she was unquestionably something special.
Glen caught sight of her for a moment, splashing in the deep part of the pool, waving at some of the dancers. He grabbed a tortilla chip, scooped up a last bit of clam dip, and made his way around the deck toward the pool to join her.
When he reached the edge of the pool he did not see Joana at first. Then he spotted her out near the center, swimming under water.
No, not swimming, hanging there suspended between the surface and the bottom. Her body rocked gently, weightless in the water.
It made him uneasy. "Come on, quit fooling around. The beer is here."
Joana did not respond.
Of course not, he told himself, she can't hear when she's underwater.
He set the cans of beer and the cups down on one of the metal tables at poolside. He popped open the first can and poured. Joana still hung there under the surface. Glen put the beer down and looked more closely. Joana rolled over lazily, her limbs waving in the water like tentacles. Her eyes were wide open. Her mouth.
"Oh, Jesus!" Glen took one long stride to the edge of the pool and plunged in. The weight of his clothes-chambray shirt, denim vest, jeans- dragged him under. He kicked frantically out of his suede boots and thrashed across the water to the spot where he could see Joana floating below. He dived and reached for her. The flesh of her arm was firm and cold, like an eel. He got one arm curled around her upper body, mashing her breasts fiat, and fought his way up to the surface.
"Help! God, somebody help me!"
The people nearest the pool looked over and reacted at once to the look of panic on Glen's face and the lifeless form he was struggling with. Two of the young men ran to the pool. They jumped in and helped Glen pull Joana to the side and lift her up onto the strip of grass.
The dancing broke off in confusion and the rest of the people came running toward them. Glen knelt over Joana and stared into the white face and empty eyes. One of the girls turned away and vomited.
"Is she dead?" somebody asked.
"Shit, look at her, man. She's dead."
Glen took her head between his hands. It seemed so small. Water ran from her mouth, her nose.
"Joana!" he cried. "Joana! Joana! Come back!"
Chapter 2
After the last great spasm inside her chest, Joana gave up the fight. She knew it was useless to struggle any more. The moment she relaxed, the pain in her head, her lungs, and her cramped-up leg went away. She felt just fine. All warm and comfortable and absolutely at peace.
The ringing, roaring sound was gone from her ears. There was only a nice, easy silence. And there was darkness, but it was snug and cozy, like a blanket wrapped all around her.
Gradually it began to grow lighter. Dimly at first, then with sudden clarity, Joana could see again. Pictures racing by faster than she could think. Pictures inside her mind.
She saw the happy little girl being lifted high to the ceiling by the smiling giant who was her father. And again, playing with Jordy, the gentle golden retriever, in her parents' big backyard. The tears of the day Jordy went down under the wheels of a truck.
Joana saw again the terrifying separation from her mother on the first day of kindergarten. And there were faces of other children she had long since forgotten, but which were as fresh now as though she had seen them yesterday. The images flashed by at an impossible rate, yet each one registered a clear, sharp image on Joana's mind.
She watched as the little girl's body began to change in the fifth grade, and new, confusing emotions filled her days.
Then she was in junior high school-dancing, boys, the beach. Trying out for cheerleader in high school, making it, and thinking no triumph would ever be as sweet. Falling in love at seventeen with Bobby Mills, trying sex and not liking it at all, then trying it again and deciding it wasn't so bad.
The sunny day she entered UCLA and stood in the long lines to register for classes. Pledging Kappa Kappa Gamma and sitting together in a group at the basketball games in Pauley Pavilion where the Bruins always won.
Working during the summers in the lodge up at Mammoth. Getting serious with Gerry Roland from Sigma Nu and finding herself pregnant in spite of their precautions. The abortion that scared hell out of her, then was all over so fast she was almost disappointed. Settling down then to her studies and discovering at last that she had a mind.