#101 Polar

by AnnaLeigh A. Oakes

Somehow, someway, as he felt the intense, paralyzing cold of the soft pressure of fresh water, his mind processed the environment and replayed his actions with clear precision.

It was his decision, his choice. It wasn’t the dare or the taunting or the threat of his reputation as a weak man. It was purely his heart. He wanted to do it. Now, however, as quickly as his body pierced the softly frozen, ever frigid lake, he longed to undo the plunge. As his body continued its downward plunge so seemingly slow, each motion he took in fearlessly jumping in unraveled. He saw his body rising up from the water, his hands flailing above its plane. He felt the stabbing of a long, strong, inhale of cold air, his lungs filling with a sharp jolt of oxygen. He felt the worn, splintered planks of the wooden dock as his toes curled about its edge. He heard the laughs and cries of John and Davey as they warned, laughed, urged, tempted, teased about the thought of anyone being stupid, brave, cool enough to jump into a freezing lake on a sunny day in January.

Suddenly, he heard their voices again as they reached from the dock for his hands, yelling fears of a heart attack, pneumonia, hypothermia. Numb through and through he only felt the warmth of their hands as they pulled him to the platform of the dock and covered him in their jackets. He did it.