Lake Accident

Water.

Zoot hated water. Large ponds, small ponds, rivers, pools, water-filled potholes, and everything similar to that. He hated how deep they could be, the weight of your body falling into an endless nothing while time slowly drips. He hated how vast the ocean looked when sat in the middle of nowhere, endless to the horizon. It scares him to sanity's end. That's why he never goes in planes overseas or swims in public pools.

So, why is he sinking into murky, cold darkness?

It might've started with a suggestion from Floyd to spend time at his Maternal Aunt's lake house. A small, well needed vacation is what it was supposed to be. All but Zoot voted to go, Lips being absent at the moment. Zoot stood by his decision, but some peer pressure from Floyd, Dr. Teeth and Janice telling him to "live a little" caused him to cave in. One road trip and a night settled in later, they started their vacation right on the lake.

The next few moments were a blur of Floyd driving his aunt's boat, Janice and Animal jumping into the lake, Dr. Teeth popping open a few beers, and Lips immediately getting motion sickness from Floyd's shit driving.

The driving.

Zoot quickly remembered how he got in this situation, his body temperature dropping with each foot he sinks deeper down. Their bassist had turned a bit too hard on their way back to the docks. Zoot was getting a water bottle for a motion-sick Lips before he lost his footing and fell in the water. The quick plunge sent him a good twenty meters under the surface as muffled yells sounded from above.

Oh, to be Zoot who doesn't know how to swim...

What seemed like seconds in the water was actually minutes as the saxophonist's body sunk down. That's where he was, holding in what little air he gathered at the fall. Thrashing had happened for a few seconds with no success in lifting him. He needed to breathe, his lungs cried for oxygen and his vision blurred. This was it. This is how he's forgotten, thrown to the side again. One last memory flashes in his mind as he breathes out, the memory of playing with the band in their recent concert. Happy smiles, Animal's erratic drumming, Floyd and Janice's duet... Water filled his lungs and his eyes closed, focusing on a fuzzy shadow jumping in the water.

—

Air. His lungs need air. He needs air. The setting sun glared in his eyes as water forced its way out of his chest. Grass blades brushed his face with grace while his senses returned to him. He wasn't sinking, nor in the water at all. Gravity pushes on his body when he turns on his stomach and empties the rest of the water on the dirt next to him. Droplets ran off his hair and nose as heavy breaths were taken, satisfying his lungs. Someone drapes a soft towel on his shoulders and another helps him sit.

The band is there, all watching him with concern on their faces. Janice and Dr. Teeth were sitting by his sides with a first aid kit opened up. Lips and Animal were a few feet away, stressed out by the situation and relieved when Zoot had woken up. Floyd was the farthest away, drenched head to toe and having tears dotting the corners of his eyes. Zoot's pair of shades were held in his fist, close to breaking if Floyd tightened his grip.

"Floyd..." Zoot croaked, reaching out to their bassist. Hesitation settled in Floyd, unsure if he should obey the outstretched hand. Ignoring the beckon, he hands the shades to Lips and returns to the lake house, leaving a trail of water droplets. The tears that sat in his eyes fell during his saunter back, hidden from the band's prying eyes. With a sigh, Lips returns the shades to their owner before following Floyd inside, Dr. Teeth soon joins him with the first aid kit in hand. That left Animal and Janice outside with the recovering saxophonist, shades slipped over his eyes in an instant. Janice's hand laid on his forehead and sighed at the warm skin, a sure sign that he was getting sick.