My face stung where it had hit the bottom. The concrete base to this oversized ditch was only about five feet below the surface but it was slippery as hell. It offered no opportunity for foothold. All I could do was push off every once and a while when we threatened to capsize. The water was moving us along at breakneck speed.
I looked back in the dim light to where we had come from and saw John Jr. swinging away with the board and jogging after us with a pack of dogs at his heals. I couldn't see Radio anywhere. I screamed his name in ragged shouts whose primary result was to reward me with a mouth full of oily water.
After the current had carried the two of us several hundred yards downstream, I was getting seriously paniced about the fate of my son. I kept thinking I heard something but it was hard to tell over the rush of the waters. Finally, I recognized a weak call to my left. I made out a dim figure floating on his back about thirty feet away. He waved at me and started to make his way in my direction
By the time he had almost caught up, it dawned on me that we might have been better off back on the shore with the mad dogs. We were in some serious trouble. Every time there's a heavy rain in Houston, it seems like someone is found drowned in these oversized storm sewers. They aren't very deep but the water moves at breakneck speed and once you fell in there was no way to get out. Radio caught up with me and grabbed onto John's pack.
No comments:
Post a Comment