D Chapter Four - Things that Go Bump in the Water

Four - Things That Go Bump in the Water

It is SOOOO hot!
Ooooohhhh. Horrible salty taste in mouth. Foul! And, there's a
waterfall cascading down my face. Yuk!
Must be about thirty-eight degrees in the shade. Dying for a swim, but
the thought of getting back in that water scares the hell out of me.
There are only a few die-hard cancer candidates frying themselves on
the beach and no one in the water. Still&;#8230;
The cossie. Good one Daisy, bringing only one useless pair. The Dawn
Fraser styled blue school logoed Speedo is of course laying on the bed.
Wearing THAT would have been far less humiliating than what happened
yesterday. So much for thinking that using my old cossie would be
okay.
I should have just put the squeeze on the father for extra money. Then
again, I haven't really seen him, and a phone call demanding cash
instead of attention seemed a little rude last week. I had planned on
buying a new one at the after Christmas sales with money my Nan always
sends for pressies from wherever she happens to be.
Get lost sea gulls. No chips today. And don't even think about shitting
on me in protest.
Nan is great. Love her. Wish she could spend more time with me. Now
her, I could talk too. So cool for an old girl. She'll soon be in town
for her launch. Wonder if it's raunchier than the last book? We'll get
up to no good. It will also be another opportunity to taunt Godly
Grandma with Nan's wicked writing.
'A loose, past hippy mother and an ex-Communist nanna who writes
pornography for women who should be past all that nonsense.' God, if
Godly Grandma thinks Nan's works are pornographic then she would
collapse upon viewing a regular SBS program. Major, major issues
there!
It is just too damn hot to not risk a catastrophe that may never
happen.
That's it. I'm goin' in.
Careful! No more impulsive dives underneath killer waves for me!
The water is heavenly! Better than scoffing twenty Turkish Delights and
not feeling like wanting to chuck it all up three minutes and forty-six
seconds later.
Oohhhh. Ahhh, but no brain freeze. Brilliant. Just Brilliant.
No one's around me. Mmmm, this is what going to the beach used to be
like for me, before HIM, and all the discomfort of having a guy like
HIM about brings.
Time for a tumble. Feels good. Now for a back flip -
Owww. What the hell was that?
Where's the surface. Why can't I hear anything but my heart beat? Am I
dead? What's happening?
Calm down Daisy. You've probably just bumped up against a ray. Or some
seaweed.
Time to head back. If only my legs would stop wobbling so I could kick
properly.
There it is again, this time on my ankle.
OH MY GOD! I am a dead girl. Where the hell is it? Scream.
SCREAM.
Nothing. Where's my voice?
There is a shark ready to maul me and I can't even scream for help.
Don't panic, you won't feel a thing. You will have passed out from lack
of oxygen and drowned way before you get torn in half.
If I don't make too much movement, perhaps it will just go away? Oh no.
Don't heave. Don't gulp. Is air essential? Breathing is probably a
useful survival technique. Yes, the air feels good in my lungs.
Gently&;#8230;
Where IS it?
Stuff it. I'll try to swim to the beach again. At least I will have
tried to survive. Oh no. What's that warm water around my legs? Blood?
Do I STILL have LEGS???
Wee. I'm WEEING!
I've lost total control!
Can the swimmers way on the other side see this? Will it reach them?
Umm, about the thing that's bumping you Daisy&;#8230;? God, are
sharks attracted to wee?
Please let someone else be taken, please, please, please. I'm too young
to die.
Sorry Mum and Dad for lying about going to the comedy lounge last week,
and not studying. Sorry Dad about you, us, everything. Sorry Clover
for&;#8230;No wait a minute; I'm not that sorry for all the things
I've done to you. You've deserved most of it.
My ankle. SHIIITTTT!
'Hey, sorry about that. Are you OK'
God, it must be the pain I can't feel because of the shock. The shark
is actually talking to me. Maybe if I ignore him, he'd leave me one
leg. I'm a good hopper.
'Stop, you might drown. Are you okay? Are you having an asthma
attack?'
No Jaws. Just a guy. Thank you, thank you!
Not just a guy.
HIM.
Where's a shark when you need one?
'Let's get out of the water.' He's even leading me to shore. Why am I
allowing this?
Where is my voice this time? It's done a bunk with my sanity. Hell, I
hope HE can't smell the wee. I am wrong about one thing though. I'm not
too young to die. Two days of personal death wishes. Mum's therapist
would have a field day.
He's being so nice. Still holding my arm and smiling at me. Why can't
he be horrible so I can feel far more superior? He's probably really
dumb. No one that cutish and caring can have it all.
Shore can't be much bloody further. This is taking like forever. He's
waiting for me to say something. What &;#8230;?
'I'm sorry about that. I had a really bad, um, cramp, and couldn't get
rid of it. Thanks. I mean, um, thank you for helping me.'
Just calmly stride away&;#8230; you'll retain your dignity if you
act like nothing really happened.
He hasn't let go of my arm. I'm trying to act unaffected. Let
go&;#8230;pleeaaase.
'You looked like you saw a Great White. Are you okay now?'
Damn, I knew he knew I was lying. Ignore or deny everything.
'Well, thanks again, and have a nice Christmas. Oh and New Year.'
Idiot, but at least I could now start to walk away. DICK!!!
'You too. And be careful of things that go bump in the water. Oh, and
of dumpers too.'
Oooohhhhhh SHIT. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
So much for the hair cut! Shock bloody horror!! Just grab your gear and
go home before you feel worse.
Could I feel more humiliated?

Thank god no one is home.
There's a note from Mum on the once daggy now retro green laminate
kitchen breakfast bench. Have gone next door to Louise's. Back in a
tick. LOL Mum. She'll be there for ages. Thank god again!
For an atheist, I sure am praying a lot these days.
Hopeless! I have nothing. Dysfunctional Dad, dysfunctional family,
dysfunctional Daisy.
You could solve the drought problems of the developing world with the
volume of water pouring down my face. Yes, a new box of aloe vera
tissues. Lucky Mum went to Coles today.
Please let HIM be one of these visitors who go home on Boxing Day.
Otherwise I am going to go back to my cell. Or not move from the house
at least.
Excellent. The whole hols will be spent wallowing, watching crappy
television repeats, daggy local ads about outboard motors and all, on
our ex-home ten year-old television.
There's no way Em will answer her phone until at least the day after
Boxing Day.
Daisy, the psychotic porno princess of the greater coastal
region.
Oh, and of course, what about Dad? And Mum.
It will be okay. Yeah, right!