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I don't care if I'm sopping wet and freezing cold, my Foster is swimming back to me. My dog is okay. The boys look okay. My dad doesn't look good. He's very limp.
They make it to the shore and crawl in the mud until they are out of the water. Blizzard sheds the water from his fur in a tremendous shake, but his tail is wagging. He barks at Foster who is hauling my dad onto the shore.
Foster pushes my dad to his back, grabs his head, and blows air into his mouth.
"Compress his chest," Foster says to Knox.
Oh my God! He's giving him CPR? This feels like a dream. My training kicks in. I've just finished a CPR course and I should be the one doing it. "Let me do it, Knox. You record it."
He takes the phone and I fall to my knees next to my dad. Trying to remember what I learned in my CPR class, I stack my hands over his sternum and count. "One, two, three, four, five." He feels lifeless and cold under my palms.
Foster is fully concentrating on blowing in his mouth. As I'm counting and compressing again he says, "Call 911."
Oh shoot, yes, we need an ambulance.
Mace pulls out his phone and makes the call.
A red trickle trails down Foster's arm.
"You're bleeding."
"I'm fine. Keep up compressions."
"One, two, three, four, five…"
***
The emergency team had to drive up from the next town. As Foster and I worked, hopelessness set in. My dad never moved. His eyes opened and he stiffened like rigor mortis was setting in.
"Don't stop!" Foster yells at me.
"One, two, three, four, five." I'm trying not to cry, but I'm pretty sure he's dead.
Sutton comes down to the lake and stops cold in her tracks, her eyes glued to the body. Remy wraps an arm around her and blocks her view. "You don't have to watch this."
"No. I'll stay."
When the EMTs finally race down to the lake and take over compressions, Foster and I stop CPR and look at each other.
Tortured eyes stare back at me. "Fuck!" He turns away from the body with his head down. He didn't want to kill my father.
"How long have you been doing CPR?" the EMT asks.
"About twenty minutes," Knox answers for us.
I'm shocked. I'm sad. I feel guilty but I'm relieved he's dead and everyone else is alive.
Walking up to his back, I wrap my arms around his waist. We're a freezing wet mess like we were the night of the hurricane.
He turns and squeezes me close to his body.
The strength of his hug tells me we'll get through this together somehow.
***
After we warmed up in the shower and dried Blizzard by the heater, we gathered in the kitchen. The coroner and the police had left. They didn't arrest Foster because we had video of the entire incident on Knox's phone.
Foster had become withdrawn and didn't say anything except for what he told the police, which was the total truth about what happened.
