Pulled Under

“Uh, I’m fine. This happens all the time. Thanks,” I say. Actually, I don’t remember this happening ever. I think. Or has it? Yes, once before. In school, right before my exams.

The mustached lifeguard, Jake, taps the younger guy, the one who said I told you so, on the shoulder. “Jason, walk her to a picnic table. See if you can find her folks, and keep an eye out for the medics. I gotta get back to my post, man.”

“Sure thing. Come on.” Jason nods, placing his hand softly against my back. He’s tall, ta

“Haley,” I say, but for a second I’m not sure. Is it? Yeah, that sounds right. Haley . . . Haley . . . “Petersen.” I start heading across the sand. It’s a weird beach. There’s no ocean. Just a lagoon-type thing. Not sure where I’m going. And why don’t I see anyone I know? I look at my guide again. “I take it you’re Jason.”

“Yup, but this isn’t Camp Crystal Lake, so you don’t need to worry.” He laughs softly. I have no idea what he means by that. He must see my blank expression. “Uh, never mind. That was stupid, what I just said. Not everybody’s seen that movie.” He shakes his head, chastising himself.

“It wasn’t stupid. I just . . . I’m not . . . ,” I mumble. Is he talking about Friday the 13th? That’s kind of a random thing to tell someone.

“Like I said, never mind.”

I shield my eyes from the sun to scan the beach. Are my parents here? Which one am I with today? Where the hell am I, and why are so many people wearing the same tacky shorts? They’re like ru

“It’s all right. You’re disoriented. That’s why I shouldn’t be joking with you. So, Haley, any idea where your folks are?”

Folks. They really like that word around here.

I stop dead on the beach and really search for someone I know. Anyone. I don’t remember coming here, but I couldn’t have come alone, could I? I see green sun umbrellas, tan beach chairs, the old kinds, with plastic straps across the frames, and a lot of kids of all ages standing on a wooden bridge over the water, but no one I recognize. “That water’s really green,” I say.

“It’s from the lake. It’s got bromine in it. You haven’t the faintest idea where your parents are, do you?” He puts his hands on his hips and peers at me, his eyes squinching in the sun so that I can’t tell what color they are. Even he’s wearing the same weird shorts. High on the waist. It doesn’t stop him from being cute, though, in a blond, retro-fresh, all-American way.

“Where’d you get those shorts?” I’m sure they must be a uniform. He’s probably embarrassed to be wearing them. I force a smile to show him I’m just teasing.

He looks down at them. “JByrons, I think. What’s wrong with them?”

“J-what?”

His eyebrows crunch together. He examines me from head to toe. “Well, I suppose a girl who dresses like a shipwreck castaway wouldn’t shop there, huh?”

Shipwreck? I look down. I’m wearing the most normal tight white tank and jean shorts ever, artfully ripped at the hem, a little drippy at the moment, maybe, but he talks like he’s never seen clothes before. It would be good if I could find someone a little less clueless to help me.

“Let’s go wait for the medics over there,” he says.

“No. Listen, Jason, I appreciate your help, but I got it all under control. Seriously, this happens all the time.” It doesn’t, but the last thing I need is medical attention when I don’t even know where I am, and I feel fine now. I’ll just call my mom; everything will be fine. Instinctively, I feel my pocket for my phone.

“I insist, Haley. Come on. They’ll just check you out a minute, and you’ll be on your way.”

There it is. I pull out a plastic bag, and—why is my phone in a plastic bag? “Sorry, I’m just going to call my—” I freeze, staring at my baggied phone. Now I remember. Dina—a girl named Dina told me to put it in a bag so it wouldn’t get wet. We were going to swim. We were doing a scavenger—

Jason comes up to me and stares at my phone. “What in the world?”

“I know, I don’t usually keep it in a Ziploc, but it’s just that . . .”

He picks up the bag by the corner and examines it like it’s dog poo. “What is this?”

“What does it look like?” Okay, now this is just silly. It’s like I’ve landed on a different planet. He’s never seen an iPhone? Oh, wait, he means he’s never seen this model. “I know, it’s old. I was going to trade it in for the new one, but my dad’s about to switch contracts, and, anyway, I want the new iPad for my birthday.”

Jason hands me back the plastic bag. “Sure, whatever you say.” He stares at me like I just fell out of the sky, like I’m the strange one, even though that girl standing there staring at me is wearing a headband and a rainbow one-piece bathing suit when she obviously has the body to be rocking a bikini.

God, I have got to find my way out of here.

“Hey, are you all right?” Jason asks.

“Yeah.” No.

I’ve seen that bridge before. In fact, I’ve seen those waterslides, except they weren’t so clean. They didn’t have water gushing out, and they didn’t have people on them. I have to sit down, gather my bearings, and call someone. I march all the way across the sand toward the tree-lined shore where there’re fewer people. This place is really packed.

Bah. I have no signal here.

I plop down and try to think, even though Jason, following me, has made it difficult. He sits next to me and draws in his knees. “You sure? Because you still seem a bit off-kilter. I don’t feel right leaving you alone. I’m sorry. I know that’s the chauvinist pig in me talkin’, but I don’t.”

“A what pig?” I ask, but then a familiar sight out across the water, behind a spattering of little blue and red boats, distracts me. I’d know that A-shape building anywhere. “The Contemporary,” I mutter, my eyes fixed on the famous hotel. Wait, I’m in Disney! I came here with my dad and Erica. I have a little brother and sister. We’re staying in Fort Wilderness!

I look down at my phone again. There’s an unread message—r u inside river country? i’m here looking for u.

“River Country . . . yes,” I mumble.

I turn and take another good look around.

White sandy beach, people in old-looking bathing suits, Bay Lake, i

“Yup. River Country,” Jason says, scooping up a handful of sand and letting it out slowly. “The ol’ swimmin’ hole.”

I press the center button on my phone to return to the main screen, but I hold it a tad too long and Siri’s bloop sound pops up.

“Did that thing just make a noise?” He leans in to study my phone. “It looks like a personal video game machine. Can I see?”

“But . . .” I tear my eyes away from all the people and really look at Jason for the first time. Blue. His smiling eyes are blue. How is this possible? “But River Country is closed,” I say cautiously. Of course it is. I saw it empty and abandoned. That lake area was overgrown swamp, and that pool and kiddie area were drained and full of grass. I saw it!

“Closed?” Jason glances at his black plastic watch. He presses a silver button until it beeps. “Nah, it’s Thursday.” He smiles at me. “Today we’re open till seven.”