Precious Possessions

Let me tell you something; jumping into a body of freezing water is nothing like taking a cold shower. When I hit the water, my skin almost instantly went numb and all the air in my lungs was expelled forcefully as my diaphragm contracted involuntarily. I gasped in response and began to hyperventilate, and if my head had been under water, I would have pulled in a lung full of freezing water and that would have been really unpleasant.
I could feel my heart rate skyrocket, and my brain dredged up a memory of hearing about a man who would jump into cold water at the end of the day after working out in the hot summer sun eventually dying of a massive cardiac arrest because of the shock to his system. Having already experienced that way to go once, I didn’t want to do it again, and I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing and my heart rate to will them back to a more normal level.
It took a few moments to get my breathing under some semblance of control, but I was able to get it to a reasonable rhythm. Feeling my muscles tightening up, I knew I didn’t have much time to act, so I took a deep breath and plunged into the murky water of the retaining pond.
It was horrific to be completely encased in water that was below freezing, but I did my best to ignore the extreme discomfort and focus on finding the minivan. There wasn’t much light filtering down through the ice, and there was no clear view to use for orientation. Beginning to panic, I thrashed my head left and right in a frantic effort to see something that would help me locate the vehicle.
Something caught my attention down and to the right, and I started to sweep my arms wide to angle down toward whatever it was. Maybe it was an air bubble catching a faint ray of light, or maybe it was the last dying burst of illumination from a light bulb in an electrical system that was shorting out, but whatever it was, it drove me in the right direction. Three sweeps of my arms later, I all but slammed into the roof of a submerged vehicle, hidden in the darkness.
Unless the mob was active here in Indy, I had probably found what I was looking for.
The vehicle had settled right side up on the bottom of the retention pond, having somehow achieved a level fall after it slid nose first into the water. However it happened, it was fortunate for the people inside; this way, it was easier to figure out where doors were located. Had it landed on its side, I might have easily become disoriented.
My lungs were beginning to burn, but I used the roof rack on the minivan to slide along the car and dip down along what I hoped was the driver’s side. I groped with numb, clumsy fingers to find the door handle, locating it and the pull device running across a pocket just deep enough to fit a person’s fingers as they grabbed the handle.
Of course, ordinarily the person doing the opening wouldn’t have numb fingers and be under eight feet of freezing water. Praying that I was grabbing it correctly and that the door was unlocked, I planted my feet next to the door and heaved, and was nearly thrown off of the car as the door swept open. I had expected it to offer more resistance, and I had overcompensated. At least I had the presence of mind to not let go of the door handle; if I had let go, I might not have found the car again in the underwater gloom.
I was fighting the urge to breathe now, and I knew I needed to get to the surface soon if I was going to avoid becoming another victim. But I was this close to getting the driver out of the minivan, and I had enough air left to make an attempt. I pulled on the door, which served to get me back to the body of the van. Reaching into the flooded interior, my hand brushed through something that felt like fine threads, and I nearly pulled my arm back in surprise before I realized I had passed my hand through some hair.
I quickly brought my hand down until it touched something firm, and it took a moment of groping to realize that I had found the driver’s torso. There was no movement and no reaction when I touched the person, which meant to me that they were unconscious. Using the driver’s body to orient myself, I reached deeper inside, following the contours of the person to locate the seat belt release. I pushed hard, and it disconnected on the first try. I grabbed whatever clothing I could get my fingers onto and hauled the person out of the driver’s seat.
Lungs nearly bursting and white spots starting to appear in my vision, I held onto the person’s jacket with my left hand while pulling through the water with my right, kicking for all I was worth with my legs to head toward the bright spot above me that was the surface. My head broke the water moments later, and I sucked in a deep breath full of sweet, wonderful air.
“There!” someone shouted, and I could see a small group of people spread out around the edge of the hole, everyone looking in my direction. The man I had shared my donuts with was pointing, and I assumed it was he who had shouted. Flashing lights slightly to my left caught my attention, and I looked up to see the top of a sheriff’s car slowing to a stop, presumably on the shoulder of the on ramp.
Adjusting my grip on the unmoving form I was towing, I swam as best as I could over to the fractured edge of the ice. I drew up close to the ice, and several sets of hands reached down and pulled a young woman out of the water and set her flat on the ice. She was unnaturally still, and I watched helplessly as a few good Samaritans started trying to revive her.
“Was there anyone else in there?” someone asked, and I looked up to see the truck stop vigilante kneeling by me.
“I don’t know,” I said, my teeth actually starting to chatter. “It was too dark to see anything.”
I watched as he patted at several of his jacket pockets before dipping his hand into one to pull out a small, yellow flashlight.
“Here,” he said as he pressed a small black button on the back, causing the front end to illuminate brightly. He handed me the device, not letting go until he was sure my numb fingers actually had hold of it. “It’s waterproof to a point,” he explained. “Should help you see a little better. I figure you got seven more minutes before we need to get you out of there, so if you’re going to go back for another look, you better go.”
I stared at him in surprise for a second, and he shouted, “Go!” at me.
I went.
It took me a lot less time to find the minivan the next trip down, thanks to a better general idea of where it was and the light source in my teeth. It was a lot harder to swim down this time, though, and I didn’t think that was such a good sign. I fought through the stiffness and fatigue to reach the side of the van, and rather than waste time looking in through the open driver’s door into the back seat, I just cut to the chase and yanked on the handle to the side sliding door. Luck was with me and the door shot back along the side of the minivan to come to a stop at the rear.
Facing the vehicle so the flashlight would illuminate the interior, the light beam fell upon two small, inert forms in the middle section of seats. The closest was a small boy, barely over a year old, strapped into his car seat and still clutching a small stuffed animal tucked under his right arm. The other, an older girl, was across the minivan and strapped in a booster seat. They were both clearly unconscious, their hair floating in the water, giving the entire scene an otherworldly quality.
Kids.
Oh God.