A Star to Steer Her By

by Beth Anne Miller

  One wee step. He made it sound so simple. I wanted to do it. For him, so he wouldn’t be disappointed in me. But more importantly, for me, so I could get back what I’d lost.

  Just jump in. You did it the other day. Do that first, then worry about what comes next. I could do that. I slipped my regulator in my mouth, took a breath to make sure I had air. I crossed my arms over my chest, holding my hand over the mask and regulator.

  I closed my eyes and jumped in. Splash.

  I felt the rush of my body shooting down through the water, then back up again. I broke the surface and automatically added more air to my BCD. “Okay?” asked Tristan.

  I took the regulator out of my mouth. “Okay.” Just like the other day, I was in the water. Now came the hard part.

  We swam over to the buoy. “Ready?” he asked.

  No. I nodded and slipped the regulator back into my mouth, pressing the button to deflate the BCD. As I sank beneath the surface, I clutched the descent line with my right hand and began to inch my way down.

  Not five feet below the surface, I began to feel pressure in my ears. Equalize on every breath as you descend. Come on, Ari, that’s Lesson #1. I pinched my nose with my left hand, took a breath, and blew gently, hearing the slight squeak as my ears popped and the pressure eased.

  Something touched my hand, and I snapped open my eyes—which I hadn’t realized were closed. It was Tristan, prying my hand from the descent line. He turned me to face him, and held my gaze as we descended together.

  We sank slowly until we were level with the reef. I did it! I was under the water! Tristan made a ring with his forefinger and thumb in the standard “OK” sign. Yes! I signaled “OK” back, and he gestured to the right.

  He held my hand as we glided slowly around the reef. The euphoria I felt at actually getting under the water faded as I squinted into the distant blue haze, on constant lookout for…anything that might be lurking out there. It was utterly silent, except for the Darth Vader-like sound of our breathing. That was one of the things I’d always loved best about scuba diving, the silence of it. For a short time, I could leave behind the noise of the world above and get lost in the alien world beneath the sea. I’d missed it so much.

  My fear began to slip away. The reef was a huge mass of life and motion. Tiny yellow fish nibbled on purple sponges, vividly colored parrotfish pecked at coral with their sharp beaks, blue-and-yellow angelfish swam lazily between sea fans. None of them seemed disturbed by our presence. They just went about their business.

  I’d almost forgotten Tristan was there until he tapped my arm and pointed to a big hole in the coral, where a slimy green head emerged on a sinuous neck. It was a moray eel. It stared at us, its mouth opening and closing to reveal glimpses of curved, needle-thin teeth. Novice divers tended to be afraid of them because their teeth looked wicked sharp. But I’d been around them enough to know that they opened and closed their mouths to breathe, not to be aggressive (usually), and I watched it for a moment, unafraid.

  We continued exploring, my eyes remembering how to see beyond the camouflage to find the animal. A crusty “rock” sitting on the bottom was a scorpionfish. A mound of sand turned out to be a flounder. I still searched the blue waters around us, but less frequently than before. I even let go of Tristan’s hand.

  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of silver. My heart started to pound. Take it easy, it’s probably a barracuda.

  No, it wasn’t. Barracuda usually just hovered motionless in the water, seemingly menacing with their protruding teeth, but generally harmless to humans. This was moving quickly. And it was big. Where’d it go? I spun around.

  There it was again, lurking just at the edge of my vision. Oh God, not again! Hiss-whoosh, hiss-whoosh. My breath came faster and faster.

  I needed to get out of there.

  Chapter Twelve

  Something touched my shoulder. I whipped around, my arm flailing out and smacking Tristan in the face. He calmly adjusted his mask and grabbed my hand, but I wrenched away and kicked for the surface. Hiss-whoosh, hiss-whoosh. I knew I was rising too fast, but it didn’t matter. I could feel the pressure on my thigh, the teeth piercing flesh and muscle, the warm rush of my blood pouring out…

  Hiss-hiss-hiss. Can’t breathe. Need to get out of the water!

  I broke the surface and tore the regulator out of my mouth, gasping for air. I heard Tristan shouting my name, but couldn’t answer. My leg. I reached down with shaking fingers, expecting to feel torn flesh and warm blood. But all I felt was neoprene. That wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. I felt it, just like I did before!

  I needed to see. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I bent over to look. Seawater flooded my mouth, choking me. I dimly realized I was sinking, and feebly thrashed my arms and legs, but couldn’t reach the surface.

  I felt myself being tugged upward, felt the air on my face. “Breathe, Ari!”

  I sucked in a breath that was mostly water, coughed and gasped, tried again, this time feeling air rush into my lungs.

  Something came around my chest and I was drawn back against a solid surface. Tristan. He inflated my vest and tried to push the regulator into my mouth, but I shoved it away—I needed real air. I struggled against him, but he didn’t let go.

  He was saying something, over and over again. His voice was soothing, and the words finally sank in. “I’ve got you, Red. You’re safe. Just relax and breathe. That’s it. Just breathe.”

  I felt the movement of the water over my exhausted body, realized he was towing me to the boat, but all I could do was lie there, limp in his arms.

  We stopped moving. “Is she okay? What happened?” asked the captain.

  “She’s having a panic attack. Ari, we’re at the boat. Can you hold on to the ladder? Just hold on, that’s all you have to do.” My fingers touched cool metal, and I instinctively tightened my grip. “Good lass. Just hold on for a minute.”

  Hands grazed my waist, and I felt the belt come off my hips. Then another brush of hands at my chest and abdomen and the weight came off my shoulders and back as my vest and tank were removed. Then something touched my leg. “No!” I shrieked, kicking as hard as I could.

  “It’s just me, Red. I’m taking off your fins. One more second. Okay, I need you to open your eyes now. Ari? Open your eyes.”

  I opened my eyes. Tristan was beside me, his eyes wide and gleaming like twin pools of Caribbean water. He smiled, but it didn’t reach those eyes. He looked worried. “All you need to do now is climb up the ladder, okay? That’s all. I’ve got you.”

  Climb the ladder. I can do that. With Tristan’s hands supporting me, I climbed up the short ladder to the platform, where another pair of hands guided me across to the bench. I crumpled, my body heaving as I hyperventilated.

  Tristan shucked his gear and dropped to his knees before me. “Ari, are you hurt? C’mon, lass, you need to tell me if you’re hurt.”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t hurt, not on the outside. But I was cold, so cold. I began to shiver, my teeth clattering together.

  “She’s in shock. You need to get her warm.”

  “Aye, I know. Ari, I’m going to help you out of your wetsuit so we can get some sun on you.” He unzipped my dive boots and tugged them off. Then he reached around me and lowered the zipper at the back of my wetsuit. He pulled it down my arms, tugging it off each hand. He wrapped a large towel around me and rubbed my arms through the soft terry cloth. “Better?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, my voice ragged.

  “Stand up and let me help you out of the rest of it.”

  If I did this, there would be no going back. It’s too late to go back. You can only go forward now. I got to my feet, clutched the towel around me with one hand and held on to his shoulder for balance with the other. Tristan peeled the neoprene over my hips and down my thighs. I closed my eyes and waited.

  The neoprene stopped its slide down my legs. “Oh, fuck.”

  I opened my eyes and watched his sh
aking fingers gently trace the knotty ridge of garish red that ran from a few inches above my knee all the way to my upper thigh. He peered around, sucked in a breath as he saw the matching scar on the other side.

  He looked up at me, his eyes filled with horror. “Shark?”

  “Tiger shark,” I whispered. “A seven-footer.”

  He was silent as he helped me step out of the wetsuit. He looked around for a moment. “Can you make it onto the bow? We can sit in the sun out there and get you warm.”

  I followed his gaze. “Yes.” Still holding the towel, I climbed onto the narrow walkway around the outside of the boat and sidled up to the bow. I sat down in the sun, my back against the windshield, and slid over to make room for Tristan. He joined me a moment later, handing me a bottle of water.

  I pulled the edge of the towel over my thigh. He caught my wrist. “Don’t, Ari,” he said quietly.

  I stared at my lap. “It’s one thing for you to know it’s there. It’s another for you to see it.”

  “Don’t be ashamed of your scar,” he said. “It’s like you told me the day we left San Juan. Your scar tells a story. It tells everyone that you faced off against one of nature’s most efficient predators. And you’re here to tell the tale. Think about that.”

  I opened my fingers. The corner of the towel fell away, exposing my scar once more. “Well, I didn’t exactly get through the dive, but you probably saved my life, so I guess that entitles you to the story,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to smile.

  Tristan shook his head. “It doesn’t entitle me to anything you don’t want to tell me.” He took my hand. “But if you can bear it, I’d like to know what happened.”

  I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Josh and I were diving in Key Largo. Pennekamp State Park. Have you heard of it?”

  “Yes, the marine preserve. I dove there once or twice.”

  “Right. We go diving there—went diving there—almost every weekend. We have a small motor boat, and our own gear and tanks, and we’d just fill them at the dive shop, load up, and go. We know the reef inside and out.

  “We were at one of our usual spots, where the yellowtail snappers are like puppies.”

  “Aye, I know. They come right up close and follow you around.”

  “Right. So they were all around, and plenty of other fish, too. I heard a thunk. I didn’t know what it was at first. But then one of the snapper didn’t look right. It took me a minute to realize it had been shot with a spear gun.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “It’s a marine preserve. Isn’t spearfishing illegal there?”

  “Yes. I looked around for the asshole who did it. The visibility wasn’t great, and I saw something approaching out of the murk. I thought it was the other diver, but…” I broke off, took a swig of water. “It was a reef shark. They’d never bothered me before. In fact, I was always thrilled to see them, gliding over the reef like they owned it, with those beautiful yellow eyes. But there was blood in the water, and within a minute or two, there were several of them, snatching at the snapper. And then at the other fish nearby.

  “I looked for Josh, but I couldn’t see him at first. Then I saw his bubbles on the other side of the coral, maybe twenty feet away. And then I saw the tiger shark. I’d never seen one of those around the reef—they usually stick to open water. And it was heading right for my brother.

  “I grabbed my knife and banged on my tank to get his attention. But he didn’t respond. That tiger was getting closer and closer to him. I started kicking as hard as I could to get to him, banging on my tank over and over again. He finally rose up over the coral, and saw me coming at him like a maniac. Then his eyes grew wide, and he started gesturing madly and swimming toward me, but I just pointed up. Tigers are really dangerous, especially with blood in the water. We needed to get out of there.

  “He was screaming through his regulator, and I thought ‘oh my God, he’s been bitten!’ And then I felt this crushing pressure around my thigh, felt a thousand knives pierce my skin, felt the warm rush down my leg. Josh hadn’t been bitten, he was trying to let me know another tiger shark was behind me.” I clutched Tristan’s hand so tightly my hand ached.

  “Ari…”

  “No, let me finish! The shark let go—maybe to get a better grip, I don’t know—and Josh dragged me back to the boat, leaving this trail of blood in our wake. We were lucky that the shark decided to stick with the easy prey.”

  I closed my eyes, seeing the ragged, gaping wound in my leg, the blood everywhere. Josh’s panicked cries as he tied a tourniquet around my leg, radioed for help. The surreal trip to the hospital. The nightmares. And the agonizing pain that hadn’t fully gone away, even six months later.

  I began to shiver again. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I covered my face, not wanting Tristan to see me ugly cry.

  But then his arms came around me, and he pulled me against his side. He tucked my face into his shoulder and just held me.

  He cradled me like I was a bereft child, his strong arms making me feel safe, the warmth of his body taking away the chill.

  After a few minutes, I finally stopped shivering. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m okay now.”

  He kept my hand in his. “Tell me the rest of it.”

  The story came easier now. “The Coast Guard came with a helicopter to airlift me to the hospital. I lost a lot of blood, but thankfully it missed the femoral artery. I had a few surgeries to repair the torn muscles. That’s what the scar is from—the surgery, not the shark bite itself,” I added. “It was just before the start of the fall term at college, and I had to do my classes online because I couldn’t return to campus. I had months of physical therapy. And until the other day when you jumped in with me, I hadn’t been back in the water. I tried a few times, but couldn’t do it.”

  “But you came out on the Meg anyway.”

  “I almost pulled out of the program a hundred times.”

  He turned me to face him, his hands warm on my bare shoulders. “But you didn’t, Red. It’s only been six months. Many people would never go in the water again years after a trauma like that. And yet, you did the dive today. Do you know how much courage that took?”

  He touched my cheek, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “You are the bravest person I know.”

  I drew back and stared at him. Brave? I was the opposite of brave, as evidenced by my many failed attempts to dive or even just step into the sea.

  His face was solemn, his eyes earnest as they stared into mine. “I know you don’t believe me. If it had been me telling you this story—”

  “God forbid,” I muttered, cringing as I channeled my mother.

  His lips quirked. “Aye. But if it had been me, or Kevin, or one of your friends back home, telling you that six months ago they had their leg torn open by a shark while diving, and today they put on their dive gear and got back into the water, what would you think?”

  Okay, he had a point. I still couldn’t think of myself that way—too many moments of staring at the water, feeling the terror take over, and limping away to cry in private. But Tristan thought I was brave, and maybe that would be enough to keep me going for now.

  And God, that look in his eyes. It made me feel like I could do almost anything. If I could capture it somehow, I’d make a fortune selling it to people who needed a shot of confidence. I could use it if I tried to dive again.

  I leaned my head back against the boat’s windshield, exhausted to my bones. “I used to live for diving. It was more than just a weekend hobby for me, you know? I loved it enough to want to be a marine biologist and be out there studying coral reefs all over the world. I just wanted to get that back. And I was doing okay, once we got down on the reef. I remembered why I loved it so much, and I was finally relaxing a little.”

  “You were doing great! But what happened?”

  I looked down, embarrassed. “I thought I saw a shark. I don’t even know if there was anything there at all, or if I imagined it.”r />
  He shook his head. “You didn’t imagine it. But it wasn’t a shark. It was a tarpon—a big one, six feet long or more.”

  What? “Seriously? A freaking tarpon? I’ve seen them dozens of times.”

  “Aye, but that was before. They’re big and silver, and if you were already worried about sharks, it would be really easy to mistake a tarpon for one, especially at a glance. I did a double take when I saw it, as well.” He paused for a moment. “Ari, I need to apologize to you.”

  I gaped at him. “Apologize? What for?”

  “As your dive buddy, I should have insisted that you tell me what happened to make you so afraid. If I had known about the shark attack, I would have been better prepared when I saw the tarpon. It was irresponsible of me, after I’d just told you that you’d be safer with me than with the others.”

  I couldn’t believe he was blaming himself for my foolishness. “You were responsible enough to react quickly and get me back to the boat safely. I should have told you, and that’s on me, not you.” I played with the edge of the towel. “I can’t believe I freaked out like that over a damn tarpon, though. I feel so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid, Red. You did scare the shit out of me, though.”

  “I scared the shit out of myself, too.” I touched his arm. “Thank you. You saved me from…what could have been a really bad situation.”

  “I’m glad I was there to help. And listen, you took a really important first step. The next dive will be easier.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think there will be a next dive.”

  “Bullshit. You did great today, until you saw the wee minnow and mistook it for a shark,” he added with a grin.

  I shoved him. “Wee minnow?”

  The smile left his eyes. “I’ll get you back in the ocean again, Red, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I looked into his eyes, the color of the sea. If anyone could do it, it was him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Look around you,” said Sully.

  I looked up from absently doodling in my notebook and tried to focus on our history lesson. We’d departed Cabo Rojo that morning under a cloudy sky. Yesterday’s dive and its aftermath had been physically and emotionally draining, and I’d kept to myself the rest of the day. Thankfully, no one but Tristan had seen my underwater freak-out, so I’d played off my moodiness as a headache.