The Year I Almost Drowned - By Shannon McCrimmon Page 0,1

had in the summer. I can recall every single detail the night it occurred. It was the night that my mom decided to come back to Graceville so that she could take me back to Tampa. She hadn’t been to Graceville since she left more than sixteen years ago.

Everything happened so quickly. One minute I was having a very heated argument with my mom, the next thing I knew, my grandfather was fighting to stay alive. I was scared that I was going to lose him right when I just had him back in my life. It took several weeks for him to recover. The doctor and my Nana insisted that he cut his hours at his diner. But being the stubborn person that he is, he told them in no uncertain terms was he going to stop working. She even tried to compromise, asking him to let me run things on Saturdays. He only had to give up one day a week. One day. That lasted all of two weeks. Nothing could tear him away from his diner. It was his baby and had been for more than fifty years.

She touched my long red hair and asked, “Is Meg cutting it later today?”

I held the pie in my hands and nodded a distinct yes. Nana was very touchy-feely; I loved that about her. “Yeah. I don’t know what she’s going to do to it, though.” My forehead creased. Meg was almost finished with cosmetology school and was intent on giving me a more distinct style. Her idea of distinct could mean something very drastic.

“I’m sure whatever she does will look good.”

“Yeah,” I paused and then said, “I hate missing work today.”

“Don’t be silly, Finn. Your grandfather can manage the diner, and he’s got plenty of help –both Hannah and Meg are working today.” She squeezed my shoulder and said, “It’s your birthday, you should have it off. Now go on and take that pie. I’ve got a house to decorate for a special birthday girl.” She shooed me away.

***

I stepped into a colorful blanket of leaves that covered my grandparents’ front yard. I heard a crunching sound as I made each swift step. I placed the top of my shoe at the base of a hefty pile and kicked the tip of my foot forward. The leaves flew up like confetti and then slowly fell to the ground, finding another place to lay in the yard.

A soft breeze from the north caused the trees to dance, their leaves falling by the second. Autumn had arrived. Leaves in vibrant shades of red, yellow and orange were seen on every tree in the distant horizon. The air was cooler and crisper. Front porches were decorated in a cornucopia of harvest themed items: carved pumpkins, scarecrows, and bales of hay. The long, sunny days of summer were gone. This was my first time experiencing a true fall season–one where the leaves changed and the temperature dipped below the 50s at night. There was no such thing as fall in Florida.

My dad’s 1977 teal green Chevy Nova was parked in my grandparents’ driveway. By default, I had inherited it. He hadn’t driven it in years and said he’d rather I drive it than it just rust away sitting in my grandparents’ garage. I preferred driving it over my grandfather’s old truck–with its unreliable engine that tended to die on me in the middle of long, rolling hills. After coasting down hills more than once, I had enough of it and was relieved when Dad told me I could have his car.

I turned the ignition, a low chug, chug, chug noise pervaded. My legs vibrated against the vinyl seat as the engine purred. Goosebumps formed on my arms and legs even though I had on jeans and a sweater. The car was cold. I turned the heat on knowing it’d be a while until it actually blew out warm air. Its air conditioning was basically a fan, and the heat was a poor imitation of hot air.

The sun’s rays bounced off the satiny white wooden siding and the red shutters of my grandparents’ beautiful farm house. The swing on the front porch swayed side to side from the morning breeze. Yellow and orange potted mums sat purposefully on each porch step. It was picturesque and welcoming, and it was now my home.

***

The Rotary Club of Graceville was located in an inconspicuous spot, way off the beaten path and nowhere near anything. I had my