Thirteen.
I was a teenager now. That thought was rolling around in my head a week before my birthday. It was kind of a relief — I had finally made it. But it was scary too — I didn’t know exactly why.
I got my first ten-speed bike, some clothes, money, and a new bottle of India ink from Penny. She knew I was getting low. Michael and Issa made my birthday cake.
Then I started to put it all together in my head. Entering puberty.
Thirteen. And those fantasies I was having about Michael. I didn’t really feel like I could talk about it with anybody, except maybe Penny. But it seemed like she had entered puberty years ago.
About a week after my birthday, we gathered at the beach. Sam at Search and Rescue had given me Tom’s phone number, and I had called him two days before to see if we could use the canoe. No one would be home at his house, he said, but we could go ahead and use it. Michael, Issa, and I got it down to the beach. Penny was sitting in the sand, looking at the water.
“Did I tell you guys about Diane? She went into surgery the day after I gave her the necklace. The nurse wanted her to take it off, but she refused, and just then the doctor came in. He said she could keep it on. The surgery went better than the doctor expected, and afterwards, he told her to always keep that necklace on, and she wears it all the time now. For a while they
didn’t think she would walk again, and already she’s on crutches!”
We all cheered, “Hooray!”
Penny fell silent again for a minute.
“I guess I’d better swim now, if I’m going to,” Penny said.
“We don’t have to agree on speed or anything this time,” I said. “This is your swim. As fast or slow as you want.”
“Thanks,
Ariel.”
We got the canoe into the water and Penny started swimming. I was in my swimsuit, and Michael and Issa were paddling. We stayed a little behind her
— the water was calm and we didn’t want to cause a wake she’d have to swim through. She looked so sleek in the water, her slender body sliding through it at seven strokes per breath. We soon passed the channel buoy and headed across the inlet.
I didn’t feel jealous. There were things I could do better than Penny, and I knew we wouldn’t be such good friends if I was better at everything. For almost three years, we had pulled each other along, teaching each other, sometimes even yelling at each other.
We called out the miles, and at about the middle of the inlet, Penny switched to five strokes per breath.
I reminded myself that I was a good swimmer, one of the best around.
Penny was just a little better. I owed her this. She had been a good friend, and I didn’t think the Wood Sprites would have become real if it wasn’t for her help. She had even found the Grove! We were nearing the other side and Penny was still at five strokes. She had said she might turn around and head back if she felt she could, and it looked like she might. I kind of wished it was me in the water, swimming four or more miles without stopping. I wasn’t really jealous of Penny, just . . . something else.
She neared the beach, turned, and headed back out. Michael and Issa brought the canoe around, but by the time we got going, we were a little ways behind Penny. I stood up so I could see better. I could see her arms stroking, but . . . they were too slow. I thought I saw her change her breathing. Her rhythm was all off too, I could tell. A warning bell sounded in my head. I strained to see, but I couldn’t see her arms moving anymore, even though we were getting closer. I practically jumped over Michael and flew off the end of
the canoe, hitting the water and swimming as hard as I could.
As I swam, I wondered if she had done the same thing I did on my test day two years ago — gotten lightheaded and started floating away. I came up beside her, and I could tell she was struggling, but so weakly she couldn’t even get her face out of the water. I grabbed her, brought her up sideways, and squeezed her waist to help her get the water out of her lungs. After the water gushed out, she sputtered and screamed and cried.
Michael appeared in the water, and helped me hold Penny. Issa brought the canoe near and pulled as we pushed. She was still screaming and crying, but her body was limp. Michael and I climbed in.
I held her head at the bottom of the canoe, letting her drain any more water in her lungs. She was still freaking out. “Let’s get back across. She’s going to need food,” I said and the guys started paddling as fast as they could.
I had never seen Penny like this. It was spooky. She was gasping instead of breathing, but at least her screaming was less.
By the time we got back to the beach, she had relaxed some. Michael and I carried her while Issa dragged the canoe up. We laid her down in the warm, dry sand, and Michael ran to get our lunches from the bikes. I knelt down beside her.
“Penny, can you hear me?”
She nodded between desperately drawn breaths.
“We’re going to help you sit up, and then you can drink this Coke. You need sugar right now.” The guys got her up, and I put the can to her lips. But as soon as she took a mouthful, she spit it back out, screaming and crying again. I realized what I had done wrong — she had almost drown, and I was trying to make her drink. After a few minutes she relaxed again.
“Do you think you could eat a cookie?” I asked her. She nodded. I handed her one, and she nibbled on it. Good. We fed her cookies, then a sandwich.
She seemed to be getting stronger. Orange slices. She was trying to say something.
“I . . . I don’t think I ever want to swim again.”
Penny didn’t show up for anything for several days, so one day Michael and I met Issa when he got off work at noon, and we all walked over to
Penny’s house. Issa had a bag of goodies from the bakery.
We found Penny in her mom’s garden, pulling weeds. Without saying anything, we joined her, each person in a different row.
“I don’t think I should be swimming teacher anymore,” she said. “I’m not even sure I’ll swim again.”
Michael said, “Penny, would you quit feeling sorry for yourself and just tell us what happened?”
She looked at him with a cold stare. “I blew it. I didn’t have my head screwed on. I got tired and I didn’t let myself believe it. My arms got heavy but I wouldn’t let myself rest. I was too selfish, too proud, okay? And . . . and
. . .” she started crying, “I was more scared than I have ever been before. I couldn’t even turn over! I was screaming inside and I could feel my lungs filling with water. I was dying!” She jerked out a big weed.
Issa opened his bag and handed her a cinnamon roll. She hesitated, then took it. “That’s why we were there,” he said, “so you could come as close to dying as you wanted to, and still be okay.”
Penny looked at Issa. “I was really dumb. You guys are wonderful. And you’re lucky Ariel’s your leader and not me.”
“By the way, you went almost five miles without stopping,” I said. “Issa’s going to work on the Grimoire cover, and we want you to come help us.
Hebrew is all in calligraphy, you know. He’s going to teach us how to make the letters.”
“Wood Sprites stick together,” Michael said.
Penny looked at each of us. A little smile appeared on her face. “Okay.
Bribe me with cinnamon rolls, and I’ll do anything.”
Penny got her calligraphy stuff and we walked toward my house.
“I think I’m figuring something out,” I said. “We have two tests, the Elements and the Vision Quest, and I’ve been wondering what the third one should he. I think maybe it’s not a test we can make up, but each person will be tested by God in the kinds of things they do, especially magic.”
Issa smiled at me.
“I finally had my real swimming test,” Penny said. “And I flunked.”
I knew it wasn’t yet time to say anything else on the subject.
At my house, we spread our things out on the kitchen table since we wouldn’t need to talk about magic. My mom wandered by. “What are you kids doing?”
“Learning
Hebrew.”
“I thought you were Catholic.”
“Hebrew isn’t a religion, Mom. It’s a language. Anyway, God is the same no matter what you call yourself.”
She left after I said that.
Issa showed us how to make the letters, and told us what sound each one made. We worked on scratch paper. Michael listened, but then read some stuff in the study book while we practiced.
My mom wandered back by and looked over my shoulder. “So that’s Hebrew. It’s very beautiful. Can you all stay for dinner?”
“I thought you said my friends were too old, Mom.”
“Well . . . I didn’t mean I didn’t like your friends . . . I just meant I hoped you could relate to people your age, also.”
“I promise, Mom, if I ever find someone 13 years old who likes the things I like, I’ll ask them to be my friend.”
“We’re having hamburgers. Will you all stay?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Sounds
great.”
About an hour later, Penny and I were getting pretty fair at the Hebrew letters.
ת ש ר ק צ פ ע ס נ מ ל כ
T SH
R Q TS
P O S N M L K
י ט ח ז ו ה ד ג ב א
Y TH
CH
Z V H D G B A
Issa said, “There are some letters on the cover I’m not sure of. They could be several different things. Is it okay if I show my notes to our rabbi and see if
he can make it out?”
“As long as you don’t tell him where it’s from!” Penny asserted.