Bone Deep Read online

  In the back of my mind I was also trying to figure out when it would be the perfect moment to pop the question about going with Dr. Hunter to find the Intrepid. Timing for this was everything — which is why I had to make sure I had enough stored up brownie points. That’s where Aunt Beatrix came in. I figured it was impossible for Mom not to have noticed how cooperative I was being with the cranky old history professor. After all, the agony of being her improvement project had to be worth something — something real big.

  One night while I was studying my PADI diving manual Aunt Beatrix sat down across the table from me.

  “I wish you took that kind of interest in your school work, Peggy. Maybe then you’d do better on your English tests,” she prodded. I was about to object when I caught Mom’s eye. She gave me the “let it go, Peggy” look.

  “Aunt Beatrix, you do realize that the school year is nearly finished and the time for trying to get my teacher’s approval has long passed.” Mom shot me a look. Okay, I’ll be quiet … but I’m right.

  “Aunt Bea, I’m just happy that she is so passionate about this course. I’m sure the skills she’s learning will spill over into other aspects of her life.” That was my signal — tonight I’d ask Mom about going on the research trip. I waited until it was time for bed.

  “I know Aunt Beatrix can be frustrating, Peggy, but I think she really enjoys spending time with you. She says you remind her of when she was young,” Mom said as I snuggled under my blankets.

  “She was young?” I asked, trying to look shocked. Mom ignored the question.

  “She grew up in a different time, Peggy. A time when girls had few choices and the main goal was finding a man to marry. Then after that it was all about being the best homemaker for your family or best hostess for your husband’s business dinner parties. Who she became was partly due to the times she lived in.”

  “Maybe, but it wouldn’t be so bad if she would just stop trying to make me into Suzy homemaker or the queen of etiquette. Doesn’t she get it? Nobody cares about that stuff anymore.”

  “True, but maybe they should.”

  “Mom, are you serious? Who cares if you eat with your elbows on the table, or whether you reach across instead of asking for someone to ‘please pass the salt and pepper?’ And what’s the big deal about writing thank-you notes — I mean who does that stuff anyway?”

  “Peggy, having good manners is more than just knowing which fork to use, or saying please and thank you. Etiquette is really about treating others with respect. Sometimes the smallest word and gesture can go a long way in maintaining harmony in a relationship. And remember, the quality of one’s life is best expressed in the small details. Those are the things that can set you apart.”

  “Humph,” I grunted. “That sounds just like something Aunt Beatrix would say.” Mom smiled. “Mom, did you mean what you said about how my interest in diving might spill over into other parts of my life?”

  “Sure, every new skill and bit of knowledge all adds up to making us more well-rounded people. I can’t say how diving is going to do that for you — it’s not exactly a skill you can use every day, but you never know.” I was just about to tell her about the Intrepid when Aunt Beatrix called from her room.

  “Elizabeth, come here right away. This cat of Margaret’s has spit up something disgusting on the floor.”

  “Sorry, Pegs. Let’s talk more in the morning.” Thanks to Aunt Beatrix and Duff, the magic moment was gone. Maybe tomorrow would be the day.

  After Mom left the room I pulled out the captain’s journal. I tried to imagine what the original one looked like. Maybe it was bound in black leather. And the pages musky from age and so fragile they almost fell apart in your fingers. I closed my eyes and pictured the captain sitting at his desk, writing by candlelight, the ship swaying and creaking, the wind gently whistling, and the muffled voices of sailors on deck.

  November 10th, 1811

  We are now five weeks into our voyage and there is a growing and palpable uneasiness aboard the ship. It seems on most occasions Mister Lockhart is at the centre of it. Early yesterday morning Cook’s boy, Ellis, was caught pinching a penny’s worth of tobacco out of Mr. Lockhart’s pouch and I was forced to flog him. I detest brutality but it is my duty to keep strict discipline aboard the ship and to make it a warning to the others that stealing will not be tolerated. Had I not done it, I am sure Mister Lockhart would have snatched the whip from out of my hand and been happy to complete the task. He urged me menacingly to give the boy thirty lashes and cried out with disgust when I stopped at five. As unlikely as it sounds, I feel certain he was amused by the spectacle. I am even suspicious of why he left his pouch open on the table to begin with.

  To cheer the mood I ordered the men be given an extra ration of salt beef and a shot of rum for supper. It did the job somewhat. Then Mister Foster, my assistant boatswain, suddenly hailed us all to come observe what at first appeared to be a large black wave in the distance. As the entity drew nearer it became clear it was a whale — one so massive that it nearly equaled the Intrepid in length and breadth. Indeed, when it came up side of us there was such a stir amongst the men I am sure the earlier events of the day were near forgotten.

  Some of the men are skilled in harpooning and wanted to kill the great humped animal. I forbade them on the premise that such a catch would take too many days to process and would put us far behind our schedule. Secretly I had not the heart to destroy such a magnificent thing. In the moments after the creature breached the surface, time seemed to stand still. I had felt it gaze into my eyes — and the event moved me beyond words.

  For hours we could hear its deep, haunting song across the sea as it trailed behind us. It went on into the night and I found myself drifting asleep to this strange lullaby of nature. When I woke hours later the whale’s song had ceased. In my long career as captain I never felt such deep loneliness. I yearn as never before to be once again amongst kin and hearth. I believe with all my heart this is to be my final voyage.

  Captain James Whittaker

  Chapter Five

  “Okay, kids, today is our last lesson in the pool. On Friday we’ll be diving in open water. Then Saturday you’ll have your dive test. If all goes well you’ll be certified divers. Cool, eh?” Tornado gave us the thumbs-up sign. I got goose bumps at the thought of it. “But hey, before any of that, you need to know one more thing — how to buddy breathe. It’s an important procedure that just might save your life one day. Who can tell me what the steps are to safe buddy breathing?” My hand shot up. I’d studied the manual the night before and knew all the steps by heart.

  “Okay, Pammy, tell us what you know.” I was getting used to being called something new every day and hardly even noticed it anymore.

  “Step one is to signal to your buddy. If you’re low on air do this.” I placed my hand against my chest with my fingers curled under. “But if you’re out of air this is the signal to use.” I sliced my hand back and forth across my throat, the out-of-air signal. “Then you should tap your regulator with one finger — that tells your buddy that you want to buddy breathe.”

  “Very good, Patty. I can see you did your homework. You one of those smarty bookworms?” Tornado sniggered. I rolled my eyes — if only he knew how far he was from the truth. “Okay, okay, just kiddin’. So once you’ve signaled your buddy — what then?”

  “You should stay calm and let your buddy take three breaths and hand the regulator to you. Before you take a breath, press the purge button on the regulator to clear it before you inhale. Take three normal breaths and pass it back to your buddy. When you’re both calm and breathing normally, signal your buddy that you’re ready to go up to the surface.” I paused for a moment trying to recall one more important point. “Oh yah, it’s important not to hold your breath, just exhale slowly when you don’t have the regulator.”

  “And why don’t we hold our breath when ascending?” Tornado asked the group.

  “I know, I know,” plead
ed TB.

  “Okay, Geronimo — tell us,” urged Tornado.

  “Holding your breath while ascending can lead to an air embolism … that’s where you get air in your blood veins and you feel like your entire head, guts, and body is going to explode.”

  “Gory stuff, man, right on. But that’s enough for now … don’t want to scare everyone.” By the looks on some of the kids’ faces I’d say it was too late to worry about that. Tornado turned to me.

  “Okay, since you and your friend seem to know what you’re doing you’ll demo buddy breathing for the rest of the class.” Why not, I thought. I’ve got all the steps down pat, so it should be easy. Tornado gave us the signal and we got into the deep end of the pool. We had on extra weights so we dropped down fast. TB signaled that he wanted to be the first to practice being out of air and to share my regulator and air tank. Everything went perfectly. Then it was my turn to pretend I was out of air — it would be easy, since I knew more about it than anyone else in the class. I removed my regulator from my mouth and let it go. It floated behind my head. Then I gave TB the out-of-air signal. He took three deep breaths and passed his regulator to me. So far, so good. Then I pushed the purge button and took in three deep breaths. Then I immediately exhaled.

  Wait! I wasn’t supposed to do that.

  The second after I exhaled I realized what I’d done. It’s funny how when your lungs are empty your brain goes blank too. I started grasping around for my own regulator but couldn’t reach it. Then I grabbed at TB’s regulator. He kept giving me the hand signal to wait while he took two more deep breaths.

  When he finally passed it to me I shoved it over my mouth. That’s when I made my second mistake — instead of purging the water from the regulator I immediately began to inhale. Instantly my lungs began filling with water instead of air and I started choking. Then I got completely disoriented. I couldn’t even tell which way led to the surface of the pool. As I tore frantically at my weight belt I saw the look of panic in TB’s eyes. That was the last thing I saw before everything went black.

  I don’t know how long it was before I regained consciousness, but when I did I was laying flat on my back at the side of the pool and staring up at Tornado. He was shouting in my ear to “wake up.”

  “I’m not deaf,” I moaned weakly. Then I quickly turned to the side and hurled all over his leg.

  “So that’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

  “Ah, sorry, Tornado. I, uh …” Someone handed Tornado a wad of paper towel. I looked up to the other students and to TB. If I hadn’t been feeling as crappy as a flat cow patty I’d have laughed at the look on their faces.

  “Okay, you guys, everything is all right. Pammy’s mistake makes for a good learning opportunity for everyone. She exhaled too quickly, leaving herself with no air in her lungs. Of course the worst mistake she made was panicking — something you’ll want to make note of in case you’re ever in a situation like this.” Great, now I’ll always be remembered as the kid who lost it in diving school and nearly killed herself panicking. “But don’t be discouraged — the more you practice with this stuff, the more comfortable you’ll get underwater. Just stick to the safety rules and procedures I’ve taught you and you’ll be fine.” Right then I heard a loud whining sound. “Okay, Patsy, the ambulance is here. The medics are going to have a look at you.”

  “No, I don’t …” I tried rolling to my side to get up, but flopped back down, exhausted. I didn’t have the strength to resist. Soon I was prodded and checked over by two ambulance guys.

  “Hey, that was pretty exciting,” Tornado joked with one of them. “But that artificial resuscitation thing was tricky.” I looked over at TB and groaned.

  “TB, please tell me he didn’t do mouth-to-mouth,” I whispered. Just the thought of it made my stomach churn and I suddenly bent over and hurled again, this time on the medic’s shoe. By the time they’d finished checking me out I was feeling a little better — physically anyway. The memory of it all was haunting me like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. TB sat quietly by my side. He seemed to be in nearly as much shock as me. Besides nearly drowning, I now had a seriously disturbing image of Tornado giving me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation — it was like a barf stain on the brain.

  “I called your house and let your great aunt know what happened,” TB said.

  “You called Aunt Beatrix! What’d you do that for?” I groaned while gripping my throbbing head.

  “She sounded pretty calm, and said to tell you she’s on her way.”

  “Thanks, TB,” I said sarcastically. “Do you realize I’ll never hear the end of this? Once Mom finds out what happened I can forget about the trip to find the Intrepid.” I stood up to grab my towel and felt dizzy. TB caught my arm, but I pulled away. By the time I came out of the girls’ change room he’d gone home and Aunt Beatrix was there waiting for me with a taxi. Strangely, I was sort of glad to see her. And even better, she hardly said a word the whole way back.

  It happened to be one of Mom’s late nights at work and Aunt Beatrix agreed not to tell her so she wouldn’t worry and come racing home. Aunt Beatrix made chicken noodle soup and fresh cheese buns. I wasn’t used to her being so quiet — or nice. Strangely, I found it annoying. To get her going I sat hunched, elbows on the table, slurping my soup. When that didn’t get a rise out of her I pulled bits of my bun off and started feeding Duff on my lap. But she still didn’t say anything.

  Finally I couldn’t take the silence any longer, so I said, “I’ll bet you’re just aching to say, ‘It was a terrible way to learn a lesson, Peggy. Now you can see that diving lessons was a dumb idea.’”

  But Aunt Beatrix didn’t answer me, just sipped at her soup daintily.

  “You probably think I should give it up,” I continued. “Well, you can relax. I am giving it up.”

  Aunt Beatrix used her napkin to daub at her mouth and then rested her hands in her lap, posture perfect, manners impeccable. She cleared her throat, which was her signal that she was about to say something important.

  “Peggy, my dear, you couldn’t be more wrong. What happened today was just a small setback. I’m sure you’ll get past this.” I didn’t expect that from her.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter because I’m done with it, okay?” Aunt Beatrix smiled and the intricate web of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes made her appear almost sweet.

  “You say that now, but give it a day or so and I’m sure you’ll see you can’t give in to fear. When life knocks us down we just have to pick ourselves up and keep going.”

  I didn’t have the strength to argue with her so I shuffled out of the kitchen and flopped down on the sofa to watch TV. I flicked through the channels looking for one of those mindless shows that don’t require any intelligent thinking, hoping to keep my mind off the things I was too tired to think about.

  Soon Mom came home and I could tell by the hushed voices in the kitchen that Aunt Beatrix was filling her in on the details. When she came into the living room I could see the concern on her face. She handed me a cup of my favourite mint hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. Then she snuggled in close and put her arms around me. Mom was my weak spot and knew exactly how to melt my hardened heart. I wiped angrily at the tears welling up in my eyes.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Mom. But my mind is made up. I suck at diving and I’m giving it up.”

  “Peggy, it must have been a really scary thing that happened to you today.” That was an understatement if ever there was one. After a few minutes of silence, she continued. “If it was anyone else, I might say, sure, quit the diving lessons. But you’re not a quitter, honey. You need to learn from today’s experience and then go on to become the best diver.…” Then she paused. “… And underwater archaeologist in the world.” I burnt my lips on the hot chocolate when she said that. “Yes, I know about your plans, young lady. And by now you should know better than to try and keep secrets from your mother.”

  “But how —”<
br />
  “The day after you signed up for diving lessons I got a call from Dr. Hunter. We had a nice conversation … that is after I got over the shock. He told me about the expedition to find that sunken ship and how much you wanted to go along.” I could feel my stomach start to heave and took three deep breaths to settle it back down. “Oh, and I also spoke to TB’s mom and learned that the scuba lessons was all your idea — not TB’s.” My face suddenly flushed with heat and I wriggled nervously.

  “I’m sorry I tricked you, Mom. It was a dumb …”

  “Don’t get me wrong, at first I was fuming over your deceptiveness and I’m still working on what would be the best consequence to give you for lying to me. But I also realize archaeology is your life’s passion, Peggy. And going on this expedition would be an amazing opportunity that will help you to reach your goal of becoming an archaeologist one day. Even Dr. McKay agreed this was an important opportunity not to be missed.” Mom was pretty cool. While I was scheming about the right moment to ask her, she was waiting to drop her own little bomb. I leaned in to her heavily and kissed her cheek.

  “Mom, I can still become an archaeologist. I just won’t be the kind that excavates sunken ships or other underwater sites.”

  “So that’s it? You’re going to quit diving and let the opportunity of a lifetime go down the drain?” I couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on her face.

  “Mom, I’m really tired. I think I need to go to sleep. Maybe we could talk about this tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Peggy. But just remember this — sometimes life’s best adventures start out like disasters. The thing is to not give up too easily and miss the surprise ending.”