22: Brake for Moose
Jake started out strong, but eased as the swim got long. Devon was further back, the board shorts swapped for a hot custom print Agon swimsuit from a prior team year. One of several Coach would lend out to the board short guys who would give in to swim challenges in the lake. Lizzie was in a pack of three just left and back of Jake, daringly doing the swim in her skimpy bikini with string ties. By midway across, the surprise was Allen, whose colorful swimsuit bounced in the waves as he gained ground on the slowing leaders. Those long rides on the old green bike had given Allen endurance he never had before.
Ricky stopped his kayak and shot a photo of the race, which he texted off to Stormy with a note, "Lots of team fun at the lake." He then added, "where are you?" Stormy would have no idea Jake was leading, but if he did it was sure to piss him off, Ricky thought to himself. Ricky found Stormy attractive, and something about him told Ricky there was more to Stormy than his tough guy attitude.
The swimmers rounded the back side of the island, it was still Jake leading, but Allen was only 50 feet back and solidly in second. Devon was 500 feet back, bringing up the tail. Lizzie had dropped out when her bikini bottom became untied and slipped from her body, sinking in the lake. She was now on the pontoon boat wrapped in a towel. If only Jake knew.
The gravel beach on the back side of the island quickly came into view as the lake went from deep to shallow. Jake stopped and stood first in about three feet of clear water. Allen swam up seconds behind.
"That was awesome," Allen proclaimed.
"I kind of freaked when the water got deep, but calmed down," Jake admitted as his hand adjusted himself. The cold water had shrunk both guys, making their bulges almost non-existent. They watched as the rest of the daring swimmers finished the first half, all of them cheering as Devon closed in the last 100 feet.
"What happened?" Jake called to Lizzie, who was standing on the pontoon boat, obviously still wrapped in the towel.
"I'd rather not say," an embarrassed Lizzie replied. Jake knew not to push it. After a brief break, the swimmers set off on the second leg. One guy dropped, so it was now five guys and one girl. But as they took off, Ricky quickly swapped the kayak with the dropping guy. "I can do this," he proclaimed. Coach tossed him some goggles and Ricky set off, a good minute back from Devon, who was last to get started.
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Stormy raced down Route 11 south. He was going at least 15 over the speed limit on the narrow two lane road. As he sped past the cluster of homes that marked St. Froid lake, he heard his phone chirp with a new text. Driving too fast, he glanced at the text, hoping it was AJ saying he was just teasing. Instead he read Ricky's text and looked at the pictures. He threw the phone back down on the passenger seat. "F..k him," he said, misdirected anger. He totally missed the huge warning sign about Moose as he began the climb over Hedgehog mountain, a long steady climb known for its high density of Moose activity and car hits. His jammer was feeling tight and awkward, he had been in it all day, but right now he wanted nothing to do with swimming, jammers, or anyone related to them.
"They sound like they are trying," kept replaying in Stormy's mind. The thought stirred him. He unconsciously eased off the speed, the sporty little car backing down to 50. The rage started turning to emotion. Tears began flowing again.
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Ricky was terrified! The bottom was gone, a vast darkness of nothing below his. His heart raced and he gasped for air as the panic set in. He began to flounder in the water as his graceful strokes collapsed under the pressure of total fear. His colorful suit no longer visible as he wet upright in the deep water. Coach slowed the pontoon boat, it was clear Ricky was in trouble.
"You stay here," Coach said to Lizzie as he put the boat in idle and cut the power. Coach threw a float to Ricky and jumped into the water. "Grab the float, Ricky," Ryan yelled. Thankfully Ricky still had enough presence of mind to hear and listen. He pounced his arms onto the float, as Ryan swam up to him. Ricky looked terrified.
"It's okay Ricky. You don't have to do this," Ryan said calmly.
"But I want to," Ricky replied, feeling like a total failure.
"Let's just relax for a second," Coach Ryan suggested as he threaded water along side of the terrified young man.
"I am not giving up, Coach," Ricky said defiantly as he calmed down, secured by the float.
"Lizzie, you can drive a boat, right?" Ryan called over.
"Yes," she replied.
Against his judgment, Coach Ryan had an idea. "Okay Ricky, we will do it together, I will be right here the whole way."
"Really," Ricky's face brightened.
"Lizzie will be right behind to us also."
Coach swam back to the boat, had Lizzie toss him some goggles, and just in case. Coach clipped the float to a rope, letting it drag behind him as the two guys swam.
"Lizzie, if you want, there is a pair of board shorts in the cubby. They might be big, but probably better than a towel,".
The rest of the swimmers were easily half way across the lake as Coach and Ricky set out on their adventure. Lizzie, now alone on the boat, quickly slipped on the board shorts. She followed the two guys 100 or so feet back. She watched as Ricky and Coach Ryan swam side by side. Their two colorful swimsuits adding pops of brightness on the dark water of the lake.
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"Are you okay?" The Miata was sideways in the ditch, Stormy leaning over the steering wheel, dazed and shaking. "That was on big buck."
The moose appeared out of nowhere, right in front of the Miata. Good thing Stormy had slowed otherwise he would have no reaction time. The car hit the gravel shoulder, spun across the road and ended up sideways in the soft mud ditch, facing the wrong way.
"Yeah, I am fine, I think?" Stormy answered. "What the f..k was that thing?" He said to the older guy who stopped to help. Stormy had not yet realized that in the terror of his near miss he had pissed all over himself, his jammers soaked. He was going to look pretty out of place in just a form fit swimsuit on some back mountain road.
"Let's get you out of that ditch," the self reliant old guy said. "Looks like that Moose shook you up pretty bad," the guy said referring to the obvious wetness covering Stormy's crotch. He said nothing about Stormy being in a bulging swimsuit. Within minutes the old guy had hooked chains to Stormy's car and pulled him free of the ditch. The Miata had some bad scratches on one side, but no significant damage, thankfully. It could have been far worse.
"There you go, young man. Momma will be glad you didn't hit that beast." The guys shook hands, and Stormy was back on the road, shaken, traumatized, and driving slow. His horrible day was not over, but could it get worse? At least his jammer suit was drying out. "Be careful through these parts," the old guy added.
Down the road, a rest area appeared on the right. Stormy pulled off and sat parked. He looked again at Ricky's text and the picture. The lake did look awesome. Stormy had never swam in open water, lakes were not so common around Phoenix. He started to text a reply, but did not finish. He started the car and pulled from the gravel lot.
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