Hot Bath

February 9, 2008 | Laughing Knees | 13 Comments 

She glances down at the edge of the lake and laughs.

“Look, there’s ice along the shore! Won­der what it would feel like to dive right in?”

“It’s early April, E., the wa­ter must be freez­ing!” I reply.

E. looks over her shoul­der and winks at me.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to get in?” she asks.

“Afraid? No. Just that wa­ter that cold is dangerous.”

She crosses her arms in front of her and lifts her sweater over her head. Then she un­buck­les her belt and slips her jeans down.

“What are you do­ing?” I ask, incredulous.

“Do you need to ask?” she says.

She con­tin­ues re­mov­ing her cloth­ing un­til she is stand­ing stark naked be­side the car, her clothes tossed into the front seat. Her white skin shines in the over­cast light, her breasts large and heavy, her skin tight with goose bumps. I stare at the scut of her dark pu­bic hair.

She laughs, then turns and jogs down the path to the edge of the lake. I stand there like a lit­tle boy, feel­ing silly.

“Come on!” she shouts. “What are you wait­ing for?”

I think she is nuts. I know she is nuts, be­cause no one in their right mind would take off their clothes in this weather, and even more nuts for con­sid­er­ing go­ing for a swim in ice wa­ter. And yet, watch­ing her, wav­ing her arm from be­side that grey, wild look­ing lake, she is the most beau­ti­ful woman in the world.

She stops wav­ing and turns to­ward the lake. Naked and pale, I shiver just imag­ing how cold the wa­ter must look to her. Then she steps for­ward and dives in.

The ice is pa­per thin and shat­ters with the im­pact of her body slip­ping through. I see her but­tocks an­gle to­ward the sky like the back of a dol­phin and then dis­ap­pear in the metal grey waves. For a mo­ment the sur­face of the wa­ter closes over her and a stunned si­lence fol­lows, then, a few me­ters fur­ther out, her head breaches and she is shout­ing, scream­ing for joy, wav­ing her arms wildly. She arches back and dives in again, a pale seal play­ing in the water.

I stand there hes­i­tant, know­ing a thing or two about hy­pother­mia and just how dan­ger­ous these wa­ter are. I’m not just be­ing cow­ardly. But one of the things about E., why I love her and feel such great joy with her, is that she know a thing or two about be­ing alive. I have never met any­one who takes her daily ex­pe­ri­ence with life so firmly by the horns.

“Hey! You go­ing to let a GIRL outdo you? Wa­ter too cold for you?”

Okay, that does it! I throw off my clothes and, tip­toe­ing over the sharp rocks and feel­ing the cold wind slap my skin, dance down to the edge of the lake. A stray wave laps over my bare foot and sends me leap­ing back. Damn cold! E. is wav­ing from the wa­ter, but look­ing de­cid­edly less glowing.

“Hurry up! I can’t stay in here much longer!” she shouts.

Tak­ing a deep breath and jump for­ward and sink up to my thighs in the freez­ing waves. The wa­ter is so cold it takes my breath away. I stand for a few sec­onds, breath­ing hard.

“Nice view!” E. shouts.

“Give me a sec,” I shout back.

Tak­ing an­other deep breath I wade fur­ther out let­ting the wa­ter en­gulf me up to my chest. The cold hurts, like an an­gry hor­net, grip­ping my naked body in an iron vise. Noth­ing to do but to go for it. I close my eyes and leap.

The world crashes about my ears, crush­ing icy fin­gers grip­ping my tem­ples and scalp, bub­bles froth­ing like soda, my limbs dash­ing through it like knives, and all the while, be­hind it all, I can hear the thump­ing of my heart. A hot drum work­ing in the gelid dark­ness. Some­where I rise and break free, gasp­ing for air, and a wild, un­con­trol­lable glee burst­ing from my lungs.

E.’s fin­gers and arms, then the rounded warmth of her torso and legs, find me and cling to me. Our bod­ies en­twine, seek­ing com­mu­nion in a cold in­dif­fer­ence. Our lips press to­gether, hun­gry, laugh­ing, our teeth bump­ing, our tongues press­ing together.

I can’t stop shout­ing, and tread­ing the wa­ter to­gether, we revel in the splash­ing and bob­bing of the waves. We spy an­other cou­ple strolling by and paus­ing for a mo­ment to stare at us be­fore hur­ry­ing on. We whoop with laugh­ter af­ter they are gone.

“I’m re­ally get­ting cold, M,” says E. “Let’s get back to the car.”

We dog pad­dle back to shore and hold­ing hands rush back to the car. The air feels al­most warm af­ter the lake. E.’s lips have turned blue and she is shiv­er­ing. I re­trieve a big towel from the trunk of the car and vig­or­ously rub E. down. We get in the car and turn on the heater, splay­ing our hands in front of the vent to feel our blood tin­gle back to life.

“Phew!” mum­bles E. “That was re­ally crazy!”

It takes a long while for the warmth to course back into our veins, but we are feel­ing drugged with warmth by the time our car pulls into her apart­ment driveway.

“I could re­ally use a hot shower,” I say.

E. leans over and kisses me, hard. “How about a nice, long hot bath together?”