When I was a kid, my parents had a creek behind our house. It was pretty close, so every day of summer vacation, my brother and I would walk out to it. We would skip rocks or we’d make sandwiches and camp out until supper. Sometimes we’d bring our rods and go fishing even though we never caught anything, just little skinny gray fish that weren't worth keeping.
However, we never went swimming there, except for one time. It was during the first weekend of summer. I had just finished middle school, my brother just got out of fourth grade with all A’s, and my parents were exceptionally happy with us. Saturday came around and when the clock hit 8:00 in the morning; I woke my brother up, we put on our swim trunks and we went out to the creek.
It was a beautiful spot. The creek’s bottle green water danced and shone under the mild morning sun, and we could feel the soft wind brushing past us. On either side of the bank were old willow trees with long thin branches and flat green leaves that hung down like dogs’ ears.
We peeled our shirts off and plastered on the sunscreen, even at that early hour it was getting warm.
My brother didn't bother to change into his swim trunks, he was so set on getting in the water first that he just tore out across our camp on the riverside and pitched himself into the water completely bare-ass naked. I hobbled and staggered toward the water, trying to put my trunks on and pull them up, yelling at him "Get back here and put your trunks on Roger!"
“I don’t need ‘em!” he yelled back as he floated on his back like an otter does.
“What if something swims up your pee hole?” I managed to get my trunks on just in time to hit the water. It was quite a jarring feeling, feeling the coolness of it engulf you after having the sun beat down on your back. I bobbed back up just as he spat a mouthful of water right in my eyes.
My brother floated there and laughed as I splashed around blind for a second. When my vision cleared up, he was already out in the deeper part of the creek diving down and coming up again like a dabbling duck.
“I bet I can touch the bottom! What about you?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said.
“Come on, you scared? I can do it.”
“Fine.”
I drew in my breath and went under. Under the water, everything was murky and green-black; with the sunlight stalled at the surface like a frightened camper with a lamp. I swam down, down past the fallen branches and freshwater weeds; And with a shaky hand, I touched the soft silt of the creek bottom.
I pulled back, leaving a palm print in the worm-brown riverbed. As I prepared to swim back up, I saw the outline of a huge fish. It was at least four feet long, with a sloping head and wide fins.
It drifted around me for a few moments before darting off. I came up to the surface, gasping for air. My brother was grinning wide.
“See? Isn't it fun? Now watch me.”
I told him to wait a minute and he cocked his head to the side like a confused dog.
“What?”
I told him about the fish, his expression didn't change.
“So? It’s a big fish. I bet I can catch it with my hands.”
And before I could say anything else, he was under the water. A minute later, he didn't come up.
“Roger?”
I called his name over and over; I was screaming it out loud when he finally shot back up with a clump of river moss on his head. I admit, I jumped a little.
