Jake by Audrey Couloumbis Page B

she thinks about my dad who died seven years ago, or her parents who died before that, and she stares in a different way. Granddad was staring in that different way.
    I pulled myself past him for shallower water.
    “I don’t like the way the water feels heavy on my chest,” I told him. “It makes me nervous.”
    He stopped staring. “It makes you stronger, fighting that,” he said, following me. “Once you can swim, it doesn’t scare you so much. You always notice it, though. That’s a good thing. It keeps you careful.”
    “Because even people who can swim can drown?”
    “It happens.”
    “Well, I’m going to pull myself along to the deep end again,” I said, “unless you’re ready to go.” I was tired of hanging around in the same spot.
    “Try this,” Granddad said. “Take a deep breath and hold it here where you can touch bottom. Do a deep knee bend, and when you come up, come up fast. We used to call them cannonballs. That fast.”
    I didn’t really want to do it, but he was right, I could stand up now too. I didn’t really have a good excuse to say no.
    I didn’t like it when the water closed over my head. The weight on my chest was worse. I didn’t like water in my eyes normally. But I needed to open them now. It was weird how that was true.
    Once I was squatting on the bottom I pushed off hard.
    It was like pressing up against a heavy blanket. More work than I expected. And then I broke through the surface with a rush of water skimming off me and the weight was gone. I think I yelled or laughed, I’m not sure. My feet left the bottom and it felt fine to be practically flying out of the water.
    It only lasted a second but it was good. Great.
    I shook my head and water flew. My eyelashes were wet and stuck to my cheeks for a second, but it didn’t bother me this time. “Cannonball!”
    Granddad nodded, looking like he was having fun too. “That’s what your dad called them.”
    We had a moment there. I could feel the space where my dad would’ve been once. Usually I felt like Mom was holding that space for me. Now Granddad was holding it and it was as if I had stepped in, something I’d never been able to do before.
    “I’ll do a few more laps,” Granddad said, and the moment was over. “The warm water feels good. Then we’ll head over to the hospital.”
    I did have a little feeling like a sigh. Part of me was still ready to leave. But another part wouldn’t mind doing a few more cannonballs. “Okay,” I said. “Visiting hours won’t start till later.”
    “Visiting hours?” He looked like he’d never heard of them. “We’re going to sneak some sandwiches in to your mom long before that. Hospital food is the worst. They can throw us out in the snow if they want, but we’re feeding her first.”
    I’d heard about hospital food from Aunt Ginny. Even worse than the school cafeteria.
    Granddad swam a few more laps. I did cannonballs. And then I pulled myself all the way to where the diving board is. The weight on my chest didn’t bother me that much anymore. The warm water felt good to my tailbone.
    This wasn’t so much bravery as it was that I’d started to like Granddad. He talked like a guy who was used to getting thrown out of places. Thrown out, and not bothered by it in the least.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    They didn’t throw
us out. It was almost a disappointment, how easy it was to see Mom and hang around in her room. We found somebody to give her TV service for when we weren’t there.
    Mom could only sit up halfway, because of her leg. She wore the flannel nightgown Mrs. Buttermark had brought her. She had some leggings too, since she couldn’t cover up very well with one leg hanging in the air.
    “That was my biggest problem during the night,” Mom said. “The room got a little cold and I was under this tented blanket and I couldn’t warm up the air space around me.”
    Granddad said, “Maybe we can bring in an electric heater for tonight.”
    “They brought me