The deeper they moved into the water, the more Michael knitted himself together—his shoulders pulled to his ears, elbows at his sides, and his clasped hands twisted beneath his chin. “I want to go back,” he said, his voice shaking almost as much as the rest of him.
Billy finally convinced Michael to stretch out on his back while Billy held one hand beneath the boy’s narrow back and the other beneath his slender thighs. “Look at you, floating already.”
“Don’t let me go,” Michael pleaded.
“You’re well able to do it on your own,” Billy said, only half aware of the three boys playing in the water close by.
“No, I’m not!” Michael said.
“Relax,” Billy told him. “I’m not going to let you go until you tell me it’s okay.”
“Promise?” Michael said.
“Promise. Now, keep your arms and legs straight, and your eyes on the sky, your lungs full of air. That’s it, perfect.”
The three boys messing about next to Billy and Michael grew louder, splashing and shouting, trying to push one another underwater. Billy worried they would splash Michael and make him panic. “Take it easy, lads, all right?” he asked. “You’re not the only ones in the water.” He returned his attention to Michael, telling him to kick his legs as hard as he could. Michael obliged, tentative at first, but then slicing the water fast and strong.
“You’re doing great,” Billy said. “You’re practically swimming already.” Michael’s small, shaky smile grew. “Okay, let’s try this.” Billy dropped his arm from beneath Michael’s thighs.
“No!” Michael said, starting to struggle.
“It’s okay,” Billy said. “You’re still floating. You’re doing it.” He had to raise his voice to get heard over the trio of boys—their playacting rougher now, their language and taunts to each other turning nasty.
“I’m sinking!” Michael said, grabbing at Billy’s shoulders and trying to get upright.
“No, you’re not, you’re fine,” Billy said, calm, firm. The three boys were almost on top of him and Michael now.
The tallest boy pointed at Billy. “Look! It’s a whale!” He and the other two little gits laughed hard.
Billy tried to ignore them. Tried to keep his focus on Michael. “Okay, I’m going to drop my other arm now and let you float on your own, okay?”
“No!” Michael said, his arms and legs flailing.
The boys shouted, “Whale! Whale!”
“I want to get out,” Michael said, scratching at Billy’s arm.
“It’s okay, relax,” Billy said, his agitation building.
“Come and get us, whale!”
“I want to go back to Mam,” Michael said.
“Wh-ale, wh-ale,” the trio chanted.
Billy issued a roar and lurched at the boys, his arms swinging. The three took off, paddling like dogs. Billy gave chase, his thick legs plowing the water. The commotion behind him pierced his rage. He swung around. Michael’s arms thrashed at the water and his mouth dipped below the waterline. He made terrible noises, gagging and grunting.
Billy threw himself onto the water and cut through the current. Michael’s head disappeared below the surface and burst back into view. Billy reached the boy, but before he could grab hold, Michael went under a second time. Billy plunged with both hands and grabbed blindly. He touched Michael’s hair and clasped his narrow shoulders, pulled him above water. Michael coughed and spluttered, unable to draw a full breath.
“You’re okay,” Billy said. Michael coughed harder, his small body jerking in Billy’s grip. “I’ve got you,” Billy said.
Michael’s coughing jag ended, but he was still heaving, gasping. Billy tightened his hold on the tops of Michael’s arms and looked him straight in the eyes. “Calm down, okay? Everything’s all right.” He wrapped Michael’s arms around his thick neck and towed the boy toward shore.
They stood up in shallow water, the foam lapping at Michael’s calves. “All better?” Billy asked.
Michael’s face hardened and he punched at Billy’s stomach. “Get away from me.”
Billy held on to the boy’s wrists. “Hey, listen to me. You’re all right, okay?”
Michael freed himself and took off. Billy, breathless, chased Michael out of the water and over the hot sand.
Michael reached his mother and dropped into her arms. “Daddy let me go in the water. He promised, and then he let me go.”
The rest of the holiday, Michael refused to return to the sea. On the long drive home, Billy followed the same route he’d taken a week earlier, but this time Michael turned panicky as they drove along the cliff road away from Kilkee. The boy cried and screeched, demanding to be let out of the car. “We’re going to fall into the water,” he wailed. It was the same, too, every time they passed over a bridge.
“What’s gotten into him?” Tricia asked, her eyes wild. The boy had never before shown such fear.
Billy shook his head, but inside he’d known. He’d ruined the water for Michael. He’d ruined something between the boy and him, too.
Three
Another Monday. Billy couldn’t start into a second week at work and pretending to play at normal.