Philip Roth - Letting Go

She turned on her belly and looked up at the parking lot. Yes, it was still a beach umbrella in the back seat. She found herself wondering if June was going to come back — not in a few minutes, but at all. It might be that all the adults were going to make a switch; maybe that was why Gabe was here. Maybe it had all been arranged beforehand, even Markie’s falling out of the bed. June and Markie and her father would go one way, and then she and Gabe would have to move back to Chicago and live with her real mother once again. Then she could get to see Stephanie. And Barbie. That might even be fun. And she wouldn’t have to sleep in a double-decker bed any more, so there’d be no accidents to worry about. She could sleep in her old bed and her mother could read to her from that Charlotte’s Web book. They would get to have dinner at the Hawaiian House, and her mother would bring extra-thick milk shakes to their table because she worked there and knew the cook personally. She could see Blair and Sissy in Hildreth’s. She knew that Sissy was probably going to have a baby from sleeping in bed with Blair; she knew they slept in bed together because one night she had seen them, before her mother had made Sissy move out. If they were all in Chicago then Markie wouldn’t be in the hospital right now. She wondered if Markie would ever stop being unconscious.

“Markie’s unconscious,” she said.

“Is he?” She could not tell whether or not he had known.

“He just lay there, and then I screamed and my dad came. I didn’t see him fall. I was sleeping.”

“Well,” said Gabe, “he’ll be all right, Cyn. I don’t think you have to worry.”

“I’m not. I think he was sleeping anyway. I don’t think he was unconscious. He’s not even supposed to be in my bed anyway, you know.”

He looked down at the blanket. Didn’t he believe her? “Well, he’s not! Ask anybody!” she said. He would always take her mother’s side against her father, so how could he know anything!

“I want to go in the water!” She could not think of anything else to say.

“Yes?”

“But,” she said wearily, “somebody has to take me, and nobody ever will.” That was a lie; her father took her — but Gabe couldn’t know that either. She waited, but he did not even answer; he always seemed to be thinking about himself.

Finally he asked, “Would you like me to?”

“To what?”

“Take you into the water.”

“You can’t. You have pants on.”

“Want to see a trick?” he said, standing.

“What?”

He began to unzip his trousers. She couldn’t bear to watch; she wanted to close her eyes, to bury her head in the sand. Oh she didn’t want to see! He was so big and he would have one just like Markie’s, and it would look so awful. But she could not bring herself to close her eyes; she could not even move them away, let alone cover them with sand.

What she saw was a tan bathing suit. “And now I’m ready to go swimming,” Gabe said. He threw his trousers onto the blanket and reached down and offered her a hand. His legs were all covered with hair, she got a good look at them as he pulled her to her feet.

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?” she asked.

“Don’t you want to just play at the edge?”

When he said that, there was a wild pounding in her chest, a surging, something akin to happiness, but more violent and sudden. “Uh-uh,” she said. “I want to go all the way in — if you hold me.”

“Do you usually do that? It’s getting a little rough.”

“I do, though. If there’s a grownup.”

She waited for him to take off his shirt. “Okay,” he said, and when he took her hand and they started down the beach, the sea was so sparkling and blue that there seemed to be no boundary between the affection she felt for those waters and for the companion who walked beside her. Both filled her with delight. She began to wish that Gabe was her father and June was her mother — she especially wanted June to be her mother if she was going to keep touching her hair the way she had all day. Her real mother and father could have Markie, and then everything would be even; no one would be gypped.

By the time she reached the water’s edge, she was not sure that she wanted to go through with it. Under the waves, which rushed toward her, it would be black and cold. But there were the people, ten or fifteen of them now, being knocked down and swept backwards, and all of them laughing and having a good time. The sunlight on all the wet heads made them look polished.

“Let’s go out there,” she said. “Okay?” She pointed to where the bathers were.

“Well, okay—”

“Can you carry me in? I don’t like the shock.”

“Of what?”

“The cold water shock. Carry me?”

Gabe put his hands under her arms. “Here we go —” and he lifted her up. “Now hold on,” and he began to wade out.

When he stopped the first time, she said, “Hey, further.”

“Wow, what a brave girl you are, Cynthia Reganhart.”

“Come on, further—”

“Hang on tight.”

“Okay.”

“Hang on now—”

“Oh oh oh—” she yelped into his ear. “Oh — keep going — oh oh look— ”

“Hang on — hang on—” Gabe called.

“Whooo!” she yelled.

“Ready, get set—”

“Heeeeere—”

“Wheee—”

She was looking straight up as it came curling over their heads. Gabe squeezed her to him, and she pressed her arms around his neck, and the wave was hanging over them, as though it would never break. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and crash! It came flowing down all over them, and she felt the two of them floating, and then their heads rose above the water, and Gabe’s hair was hanging into his eyes.

“You look funny!” she shouted.

“So do you!” They were in water only as high as Gabe’s knees, and the other bathers were rubbing their eyes and some were blowing their noses right into the ocean.

“I wasn’t even scared,” she said into his ear.

“Fine. Hang on. There’s another one coming.”

“This is fun—”

“Close your mouth, you dope!”

“Then I can’t taaaalk —” she screamed, and the wave rolled in and over. Gabe held her tight and they came up right through the foam.

“Whew!” he said. “Are you all right?”

“Uh-huh.” Gabe was wiping her nose off with a handful of water. Oh she didn’t just like him — she loved him! She wondered when he was going to kiss her.

“Do you have to go back to Chicago?” she asked.

“I think so, Cynthia.”

“To day? ”

“No, not today—”

“Will you come play with me?”

“Well, we’ll see — here comes one!”

“Oh it’s a big—”

“Hang on tight!”

“Ooohhh—”

Oh she was glad Markie was unconscious! Oh what a good time! What a tall tall wave! It teetered over their heads and she pushed her face into Gabe’s neck, and she waited — and then something collided with them. She felt herself and Gabe tumbling, and then Gabe was gone and she was still tumbling, but alone. Her feet were up and her head was down, and the water wouldn’t let her rise. She tried to stand but there was no bottom for her feet. She was rolling, away across the sea, and she swore, oh she swore that she loved everybody. She swore it, but no hand reached down to pick her up. I love Markie Mommy Daddy June Gabe everybody— Please, Markie, I’m sorry—

Her head was in the sunlight. She had thought that she was way out beyond the buoys, but when she looked up she saw she was almost up on the dry beach. Sand was beneath her hands, and a big fat man was sitting in the water next to her. He was breathing very loud, and when he saw her sitting there, he said, “Some wave, kid, huh?” His belly hung over the top of his suit, and all the time he was getting up he kept saying, “Whew! Whew!” He started up the beach, and then Cynthia saw Gabe running toward her through the low water.