My Friend, Jennie

We had finished our breakfast some time ago and now Jennie and I have just been sitting here, enjoying our cocoa and each other’s company. The Lakehouse has been a favorite haunt of ours for quite some time and an easy choice for starting whatever adventure we had planned on any given day.

Jennie and I weren’t really a couple, per se, but she was easily my best friend. We could spend endless hours chatting away about anything, or nothing or simply sit quietly somewhere not talking at all. Life between us was filled with inside jokes and laughing until our sides and cheeks hurt.

The biggest difference between us was that I moved here during our freshman year in High School. Jennie was a local and had spent her entire life here. So, everywhere we went in town people were always telling her to ‘say hi to your mom’, or ‘I saw your brother today’, or ‘does your dad still have that old Ford?’ Meanwhile, I am left looking on in silence, feeling like the outsider or cutting up, trying to get her to laugh at inappropriate moments.

Today’s breakfast crowd at the Lakehouse was small. Nearly everyone was at the derby and, realizing how time was once again slipping away from us, the two of us get up to leave. After the usual ‘squabble’ over who was paying the tab, we settle on my leaving money for the bill and her leaving the tip.

Today was a warmer late March day but still cold enough for winter clothes, me in my North Face coat and L.L. Bean boots and Jennie in her peacoat jacket reaching to her knees, nearly meeting a pair of fur-lined boots rising from the opposite direction. A scarf hung around her shoulders and over her chest, more for looks than for any practical reason. In typical nerd fashion, we both wore matching red and white striped Dr. Suess-type stocking caps, and we both had black gloves, hers, she put on and mine, I shoved into my pockets.

It had snowed a couple inches last night and snowplows were zig-zagging through town, clearing peoples’ driveways. The Lakehouse sits right on the shore and the two of us decided to walk out to where the fishing derby, the major winter event for the town, was being held. The snow was still fresh and crunched under our feet. The white snow reflecting the late morning sun and making it extraordinarily hard to see much of anything. Even with sunglasses, I can feel my brow furrow as I squint into the glare.

Jennie and I quickly fall into our routine of silliness and merriment as our maturity level plummets and everything else melts into the background. Occasionally, something would spark our interest and we would turn it into some joke. We can hear a man officiating the fishing derby through a bullhorn and we, in turn, cup our hands like cones, placing them around our mouths, and shouting mocking announcements. Fish traps are set up all over the lake. Even though we could not see the flags from where we were walking, we could see the shapes of people running towards them, and each time we would shout ‘and we have a winner’, as if we were calling a baseball game.

Suddenly, a man spots us from a distance and waves. The glare on the snow made it impossible to tell who it was, and after looking at one another, we decide to wave back in the same manner. The man stopped waving and starting walking towards us. I figure it is some local who wants to say hi to Jennie and we go back to our childish shenanigans.

The man comes closer. We can see he is wearing a read coat but we still cannot tell who it is. He stops and is waving with both arms now. One of us makes a comment about calisthenics and Jennie starts doing toe touches. I start in with jumping jacks, both of us laughing so hard that our eyes started to water.

All at once, the blinding sun and laughter is stripped away as the ice gives way and we plunge into the frigid lake water. The newly fallen snow had hidden what would have been obvious to us as thin ice.

The shock of the cold water wants to drive out what little air we had in our lungs and I fight the sensation of passing out. I expect to bob back up through the hole we made but we are too close to the lake outlet and the current is so strong, the water pushing us further away from the light. I struggle frantically, trying to swim but my winter clothing, especially my boots, are making the effort fruitless and expends precious oxygen.

The rapidly distancing hole in the ice looks like a movie scene with rays of sunlight peering through the water and reflecting off chunks of ice. My red and white hat floats in water just ahead of me, losing its color and looking like some vintage sepia photo.

My lungs are straining to exhale and I fight the urge to panic. ‘If I can just keep my head’, I remember thinking. I look down and Jennie is just at arm’s length below me, her eyes bulging in wild fear. I take her hand and try to pull her towards me and I accidently pull the glove from her and it hangs between us.

The break in the ice is shrinking as we move away, but I see another figure in it, arms and legs flailing about in the water. Someone has come in to save us, if we can just hold on.

I look back at Jennie. She has both hands at her throat and her mouth is open. However, there is no air coming from her mouth. ‘What does that even mean?’ I grab the neck of her coat and look back towards the surface, working so hard to gain any distance in the spring current.

My body is betraying me. I can feel my vision closing in, tunnel vision. I am going to pass out. Chest is heaving, burning, trying to get air, my teeth clenched in resistance. My arms and legs slowly stop obeying me and float dead-like from my body. I feel my head tip back and my mouth opens and the cold water enters my mouth.

The next thing I know, I am sitting on the ice beside the open water, the brilliant sun beaming down on me. I am soaking wet but relatively warm compared to the dip in the lake. A discarded red coat sits on the ground not far from me. Another man with a red coat, a Game Warden, is standing opposite me, a walkie talkie in one hand and a mic in the other. He alternates talking to one and then the other. People have begun to gather around and a fireman is trying to keep them back.

Someone moves and I see a diver in the water. He is talking to the man in the red jacket and then he disappears down below the surface.

‘Oh my God!’ Where is Jennie? He must be trying to find Jennie. I try to ask if anyone has seen her but my voice doesn’t returned yet.

A moment later, the diver reappears. He has someone in his arms. Jennie. He passes her to a man laying on his stomach near the hole who passes her back to a second man and then a third. All three tied tethered by a length of rope.

I see them check for a pulse. ‘C’mon Jennie!’ They open her jacket and rip her blouse. Someone has one of those yellow lunch box thingees, an AED, I think. While he pulls the wires and pads from it, a woman places a mask over Jennie’s face and is pumping a bag. All at once they let go and Jennie’s body stiffens. The scene plays out again. And again.

Finally, they tip Jennie on her side and place a board under her. They strap her down and place her on a sled and a snowmobile races towards an ambulance waiting at the boat landing, the two people working with Jennie the whole way.

Meanwhile the diver has gone under again. The man who came in after us must still be unaccounted for. I scan the crowd, looking for concerned loved ones or some other clue as to who it might be. I never saw his face so I have no idea what I am looking for.

The crowd has gone quiet as everyone waits. My mind keeps going back to Jennie and I wonder why no one is ‘checking my vitals’ or even bringing me a blanket. Or better yet, getting me the hell of this ice. I guess in light of Jennie and the lost man, I am a pretty low priority.

The diver emerges from the water. He has a man with him. People crowd in and I cannot get a look at him. Just morbid curiosity but I would like to see the face of the man who tried to rescue me.

I stand up. I feel a little shaky and lightheaded. My hearing, too is a little janky. Probably my head is still really water-logged and I wriggle a finger in my ear trying to loosen up the water.

The men in ropes have the body pulled fully on the ice and the paramedics are working on him. Rather than fight through the crowd, I walk around them to get a decent look. After a bit, the lady with the mask and air bag sits back onto the ice, resigning herself to the futility of reviving the man. My hearts sinks at the idea of him dying for me.

She hangs her head for a moment, sighs, and then stands so they have room to strap him to a body board. I finally get a look at his face. Instinctively, my body tries to scream but when I open my mouth, ice water spews out instead. Sheer horror consumes me. The face I am looking at is mine!

I stand there confused, looking at myself, when I sense a hand fill my own. I don’t feel it, I just sense a gloveless hand firmly holding mine. I look. It is Jennie! She is a blueish pale white, and wet hair hangs from her head. She looks me in the eye, her blue lips smirk and she playfully nods towards the now setting sun. I grin back at her, ice water dripping stupidly from my mouth. Hand in hand, we walk in our silly farcical manner across the newly fallen snow.