Why'd We Stop?

This story is creative non-fiction. I wrote it awhile ago as well. Next week however, I am going to have brand new writing for everyone to read.

“Thumbs up means faster. Hand slicing across your neck means stop. Thumbs down means slower. If I twirl my finger around, it means we’re turning around.”

He didn’t always use that one.

These were the instructions before I got on the tube for the first time. Some people might recognize them as skiing instructions, which they are, but the one time I got up on skis lasted a whopping grand total of five seconds. The tube is much easier to get the first time. And when I got it, it got me.

I met Tony when my family and I lived on Fraser Avenue in Port Coquitlam. He lived next door and made friends with my dog before he made friends with us. When we finally introduced ourselves, we learned that he had a daughter my age that he never got to see. As a result, I became his other daughter. My parents didn’t seem to mind much, liking Tony as they did. Besides, he loved my sisters just as much as he loved me and didn’t play favourites.

The six of us would often go out on his boat in the summer time. We would go to the Fraser or Pitt River and spend the day on the beach and once, Tony showed me what tubing was. Well, I got hooked.

Anytime he would ask, “Who wants to go tubing?” I’d be the first one with my hand in the air.

“I’ll go.”

So, attached, with seventy-five feet of rope, to the back of the red and silver Cobra that Tony used to drive, I would whip up and down the river until my arms were so tired from holding on that they were ready to fall off. I never did.

Though every time I get on the tube to tear after the boat is another adventure, one time always sticks out in my memory.

As we scream down the Fraser I let go long enough to throw my thumb upwards. He sees the signal and picks up more speed. All I can hear is the wind rushing past, the engine of the boat – much more than the 95 it says on the back, and my own laughter.

He turns back to check on me again and again I tell him I need more speed.

When he stops and starts pulling me back I ask, “Why’d we stop?”

“Weren’t you scared?” he asks me.

“No,” I reply, indignant at the thought.

“I was.”

We start to go again. I lean back as we pick up speed and the power of the boat pulls me onto its wake. I watch the waves as they rush toward me. Lean left as Tony turns left, lean right as he turns back right, clench your teeth so you don’t bite your tongue, hold on tight here comes a big wave. Thoughts run through my head as I sit in the tube being yanked around left and right as Tony tries to dump me. I hold on through it all.

He starts to do donuts in the water, making the waves I’m going over bigger and bigger with each turn. Then, I see one coming toward me. It’s the mother of all waves, bigger than any I’ve ever been over before. I lean back, grasp the handles with all the strength I have left, and feel the tube get lifted off the wave with the force behind the water. My feet fly over my head and I can hear Tony cut the engine.

When he stops I look at him safely from inside the tube.

“Why’d we stop?” I ask.