Current

(F is for flotsam)

The melting snow and a week of rain had swelled the Delaware so that the boat launch was completely submerged. With a sigh of disappointment, Robbie dropped her wet bag and life jacket and sat on the riverbank, watching the water sweep past. Tree branches, logs, and soggy plastic bags formed the flotsam along for the ride. Putting a kayak into that current would be risky.
“Scared?” Thomas pulled his kayak up to the edge of the torrent and sat next to her.
“Yeah, you think?” She was angry. It wasn’t his fault the water was up and raging, but it had been his idea to come here, today. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to paddle in this.”
“We won’t be scraping bottom today.” He laughed at his own joke. “ It’ll be a fast trip.” He stood up and began prepping the boat.
“Thomas, you aren’t serious, are you?” Robbie shivered. The sun was up, but they were in shadows on the eastern bank, and the temperature on this April morning was still in the 40s.
Thomas tugged on his kayak skirt, cinched his life jacket around his chest, and pulled on his waterproof gloves. He seemed indifferent to her nervousness.
“Look at the water,” she said. “I’m not going. Please don’t go by yourself.”
Thomas shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Pick me up at Bulls Island.” He looked at the sky, then the river. “Give me an hour, hour and a half.”
“Thomas.” But he was in the kayak and on the water. A moment later, he was gone, out of sight. She ran to a small point of land and spotted his paddle flashing up and down in the sun. “He’s a fool.” She chewed her lip, wishing she had stopped him.
The park at Bulls Island was nearly deserted. Robbie parked near the take-out point, and the small gravel lot, usually packed on a sunny summer day, had only two other vehicles. With an hour to kill, she settled into her seat and closed her eyes. Thomas was experienced on the water – he would make it down the river unscathed.
A tapping on the car window woke her. Thomas was peering in, but he looked pale, shaken.
“Are you okay?” Robbie opened the car door. “You made it okay?” He was wet, his hair slicked down, his shirt and sweatpants drenched, and he was shaking. She helped him out of the wet clothing and wrapped him in a blanket.
“The boat’s gone, smashed up. I had to leave it behind.” His voice broke.
“You swam?”
He rubbed a hand across his face. “More like body surfed. The river was running so fast. I had to work to keep my head above water.” He stopped, then continued somberly. “I wasn’t sure I would—“
Robbie put her finger to his lips. “Shhh. You’re back. That’s enough.”