“Son, pass me a Coors.”
Grinning like a child on Friday afternoon, Tim handed his dad the beer. As the crack and hiss of bottle opening happened in the background, the boy took a bite of his sandwich. Simple, but oh so tasty after swimming in the deep ocean water. His swim trunks were still damp after almost an hour afterwards in the sun.
“Oh, your co-workers aren’t near as bad as the poor gal on my team!” his mother laughed as she and her long-time friend chatted about work, and her daughter was giggling about nonsense with Tim’s sister. A few birds were squawking over some trifle above them. He glanced up to look at the sky. The sun cover did not reach to his seat fully, but Tim couldn’t care.
Suddenly the boat hit something, possibly a large wake. Before Tim could grab on, he felt himself flung off the boat. The cold metal bar of the tarp frame slammed into his legs, and he spun into the lake. Sputtering, he could tell he was sinking. He kicked his legs, but nothing happened. They were too broken from the bar to respond. Quickly Tim clawed his way to the surface, or at least tried to. But down he went, down to the lakes bottom. And the last thing he saw was a shaft of light piercing the water to shine around him.
“Ffffwuaa!” Cold. Wet. A salty taste on his lips. Glancing around, Tim found himself in his bed room. A dream. It was a dream. He had drowned in his dream. But still, the sweat… cold. Almost as if he was-
“Wake up Tim! We need to get ready quickly so we can dock off before the rush.” His dad ducked away from the doorway. Meanwhile Tim’s sister practically skipped across as she head to the kitchen.
“Boat day, it’s a boat day! Pacific Ocean, here we come!”