That Day on the River

This is what I want to submit into the BYU contest. I'm kinda procrastinated mailing it, so as soon as you read it if you could critique, that'd be great!

The day was hot, the line was long, and my panic was rising. It was youth conference, and I was fourteen years old. All the youth in the stake were waiting their turn to enter the slow-moving river with their inner tubes. Well, I had been a good girl and brought my own tub. It had a leak. The air was audible as it left the tube feeling limp in my hands. I left my group at the water’s edge to find an extra tube to use instead; they were sure to have one, weren’t they? Well, they had all been taken, at least all the ones with holes smaller than mine. Worried, tubeless, and friendless, I decided to give the river a try. The tube had to last a little while, didn’t it?

Now I had to look for a partner, because the leaders had stressed the buddy system in orientation to the point where it sounded like, “Have a buddy or you’ll be shot at dawn.” The numbers of youth had dwindled to single digits, so I had to search fast. There just happened to be two people that were on their own, too: Rachel, a recently graduated girl from my ward, and Brandon, who was carrying a tube big enough for a bear to float on.

And so it was that our trio embarked. It took only about five minutes for my tube to become nothing more than a flimsy piece of rubber that floated next to me as I swam. Brandon was a gentleman and offered me a seat on his tube, but being a stubborn teenager who didn’t want to seem helpless, it took me a while to accept. But, I finally found myself sitting on the biggest tube I’d ever seen next to someone I hardly knew. I thought I remembered him from eighth grade track a few months earlier, but I couldn’t be sure. When you’re the slowest on the team, you don’t really get good bonding time with other runners during practice.

That was how we went down the river. Rachel, who had taken my tube in addition to her own, had to hold onto our tube to keep from racing ahead. Brandon’s oversized tube had so much drag that we moved much more slowly than nearly everyone else: that meant that we had lots of time to talk. We never did run out of material for conversation. Oh, it probably dwindled here and there, but it stayed up pretty well for three nearly complete strangers.

Disembarking was a bit of an adventure itself. Several male leaders had stretched a rope across the river just as it was starting to get a bit swift, and we were supposed to grab the rope and stop the tube, and then make our way to the side. Rachel did well enough, she just had to stand up and carry our tubes to the bank. For Brandon and I, it was a bit harder. The tube was too big to grab securely without using both arms wrapped around it through the middle, and we still had to grab the rope. This part in my memory is a bit blurry, but I may have blocked it out because there were some minor rope burns involved. But we eventually made it to the bank, wet and smiling. Our friendship could have ended there, with a cordial, “Thank you for letting me use your tube. It was fun,” and then never speak to him again; but it didn’t happen that way. We parted on the bank with a “See you tonight,” on both sides, and with excitement for later, because some things you can’t go through without making a friend, and one of them is riding all afternoon on the same inner tube.

That evening there was a bit of a party outside the church. There was food and games and all the youth, still excited from the float trip. Brandon and I found each other and hung out the whole night. We talked and ate and attempted some volleyball, but mostly we just walked and talked. At one point we walked around a corner and saw a couple holding hands and walking. That was the only awkward moment I can remember; we made sure we had a good three feet between us for the next little while until it wore off. When the night ended of course I had a crush on him, but besides that, we’ve been friends ever since. We’ve been through some crazy things together, including journalism classes, a musical, the vice principal thinking we were kissing while watching a security video (the kiss never actually happened), and me puking while at prom with him. But those are all other stories, and merit their own essays. The important thing is that none of those stories would have happened if it weren’t for that day on the river.