I'm going to share some commentary with you, background info, interesting things that came up in research, things like that. At some point I will be deleting many of these posts as I get closer to the release date.
Chapter One starts out in the middle of the night--I drop you right into the action (a device called, in Latin, in media res) as an unnamed person is about to be rescued from drowning. You'll figure out who that person is a little later. You'll read his inner thoughts in italics, and he's in shock. He thinks he's actually talking out loud to his rescuer, but he isn't.
The reader of the book, without this little tip I've just given you, may be confused a bit at first, and then gradually figure out what is going on. Or scratch their heads, wondering what's going on. And that's what in media res is all about!
Please excuse the lack of indentation, Blogger doesn't seem to want to do that for me.
Also, the book is copyrighted. Please do not copy and paste anything, but if you want to share my blog with others, please send them here!
THAWING A.C. NIELSEN © Paul Carey 2016
CHAPTER ONE
February 2013
“Here! Here, grab this stick. Come on, man. Grab it! Hurry!”
Why grab it? Why struggle? I’m fine.
“Come on, man—you’re gonna die in there. I can’t get any closer. If I fall in I can’t save you. Then we both die. You gotta grab it now. Please!”
I’m fine. The water is cold. It feels good. Don’t be afraid. None of us ever really die.
“Damn! Stupid stick broke on the ice. Okay, listen now… I’m gonna slide out closer to you, slowly. When I get close you gotta grab my arm above the wrist and I’ll grab yours. Drop that book or whatever you’ve got there. I can’t save you if you’re still holding on to stuff. We may have only one chance at this. Do you hear the ice cracking? Come on, look at me—try to focus. I know it’s dark, I know you’re freezing, but just stay with me, you hear? Helen, did you call 9-1-1? Keep the flashlight out of his eyes. You’re blinding him!”
I need this novel. I need my notebook, too. The solutions are there. Water is a solution: a solution is the answer.
“Come on, man, focus. Look at me. What’s your name? Can you talk? You understand me? I got to get you out of there fast—really fast. Oh damn, it’s freezing out here. Oh shit. Helen, he’s in shock! He can’t move. He can’t talk. He moves his mouth a little but nothing’s coming out.”
“Tom, you can’t go out any further. Please don’t do this—I’m not losing you. Be careful. I called 9-1-1. They’ll be here!”
“He’s gonna die if I don’t pull him out soon. Helen, I have to save him. He’s not gonna make it without me.”
No, Tom. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine here—in the solution. The water is the solution.
“There—I got your arm. Just relax. You’re in shock. I’ll pull you the rest of the way out, just don’t fight me, okay? See, here you go—you’re on top of the ice now. Helen, I got him. Run and get some blankets out of the trunk. I’ll have him there soon.”
Let’s stay in the water. It feels good, don’t you think? I have friends there. Tom? Tom?
“That’s it. Just relax. We’ll slide low across the ice. Keep our weight spread out, right? Get off the ice and then we can walk to the car. I’m a lot bigger than you, thank the Lord. Maybe I can even carry you. Just hang in there. Stay with me, okay?”
But I have friends in the water. You’d like them. Turtles, fish, dolphins. In the water. Aqua in Latin, acqua with a c-q in Italian, agua in Spanish. Tom, water is a medium.
“Come on now. Can you feel your feet? Your legs? Do I need to carry you? Can you talk? Please try to talk. Jesus, my heart is pounding.”
Water is a medium. It surrounds you. It heals you. You can breathe water if you’re not afraid.
“Helen, he’s totally in shock. I gotta carry him. His legs are just all locked up. Where the hell are the police? Or an ambulance?”
“I don’t know. Just get him across the road to the car.”
“Okay, man, we’re almost there. We’ve got blankets, we’ve got the car heater. We already called
9-1-1. They’ll be here soon. You’re gonna be okay. See, we did it. We did it together!”
You can breathe the water. Water surrounds you. It cradles you. Air is too thin, too harsh. It can’t heal you—it burns. Are you listening?
“Jesus, you saved him, Tom. Okay, quick let’s get him dry. Peel the wet clothes off him. It’s so dark out here. Look, I think he’s already getting better. He’s putting weight on his legs. Get the clothes off and we can get him in the car—crank the heat. Look at his face, he’s stoned or something. He looks like he’s obsessed with those books he’s holding. Is he some kind of drug addict?”
“I have no idea. Listen—you hear that? That’s a siren, Helen, they’re almost here. Dropped their donuts and got their act together. They’ll be here soon.”
I’m going back. You were very brave. Helen is so proud of you. Look at her—so proud. “Good-bye, Tom! I’m going to go talk to my friends—dolphins, fish. The turtles are under the mud, 3.9 now. They’ll be out soon. Good-bye.”
“Tom, he just said your name. Did you hear him? Some gibberish, but your name was in there, too. He’s gonna be okay. Look at you—you’re shivering like crazy. Go on, get that wet jacket and shirt off, honey. There’s one more shirt in the trunk you can put on ’til the cops or an ambulance gets here. Maybe they sent both.”
“Okay. Shit, I can’t believe I got him out. I’m freezing. I can’t even imagine what he feels like. Where’s that shirt? I don’t see it here.”
“It’s somewhere in there. Let me look. There, see it in the corner? Oh, wait—Mister! Mister, stop! What are you doing? Oh no, he’s going back over. No, no, no! Mister, get out of the—”
Wham.
“Oh, my God, Tom. Oh my God!”
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