Tim nods and then stares into space somewhere behind me. I wait for him to say something, but he just sways from side to side in the wind.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Do you know what it took for me to come here?”
I shake my head, no.
“I have been sleeping in my car. The homeless shelters are overcrowded, dangerous, and full of psychos. I can't get another job. I tried, but no one is hiring.”
“If you want a recommendation, I will give you one. I'm sure that you can get a job at a coffee shop or another hotel.”
“Will you tell them about my theft?”
“I won't unless they ask me directly.”
He shakes his head and says, “They will ask you why I am no longer working for you.”
“I'm not sure what you want me to say,” I say, trying to walk past him, but he puts his arm out and blocks me.
“No one is going to give me a job,” he snaps.
“You haven't even tried. You can put my name down or even Mr. Elliott's and I'm sure that he will give you a good recommendation if they call. I promise that I will be as discreet as possible, but I can't lie.”
I try to get past him again. The dock is narrow and he's blocking my way to the door.
Suddenly, I realize that I don't have my keys. If I want to get back on the boat, I'll have to call Isabelle to come get me.
He doesn't move and I scrunch myself around him, being extra careful so that I don't fall off the dock.
Then he pushes me.
I fall straight into the water and it engulfs me. It's so cold that I struggle to breathe even when I pop my head out of the water.
All of the muscles in my body tighten, making it laborious to even perform the simplest exercise like turning around while treading water and trying to figure out a way to get out.
There are rocks, boulders, on the far end of the dock, sharp and treacherous. I look back up and see him standing above me, his face blank and despondent.
I reach up and grab onto the dock. My clothes, waterlogged, make me feel ten times heavier. I try to pull up, but my hand slips and I slide back in.
“What are you doing? What happened?” I hear Isabelle's voice somewhere far in the distance.
Her footsteps sound like thunder in the water. She swings the door open and kneels down next to me.
“Give me your hand!” she yells.
A boat pulls up causing a small swell of water. From where I am, it throws me all around as another wave goes over my head.
Suddenly, I start to feel warm. It’s the first sign of hypothermia, which in this 57 degree water, can set in in minutes.
This isn’t good.
My strength is starting to dwindle. Even treading water is difficult and straining.
I pull off my jacket and Isabelle grabs it from me. I reach up again and pull myself up as much as possible. I try to grab on to as much of the dock as I can because I know that she can't pull me far.
From the corner my eye I see Tim, still just standing there, staring at us.
I'm tempted to ask for help, but I'm afraid he might push me off again instead. After a minute or so of struggling, I finally get out.
“You see,” Tim says, “now you know what it's like.”
His voice is monotone without an indication of any kind of emotion.
“You did this on purpose!” Isabelle yells.
I rub the back of my arms to try to warm up.
I need to get on the boat.
I need to take off all my clothes and try to warm up, but for a moment, I just stand there and stare at him.
“Why?” I mumble, my teeth chattering.
“So that you would know what it's like. You struggled for a few minutes and I’ve been doing it for days.”
“He’s out of his mind,” Isabelle says under her breath and unlocks the door.
She pushes me through it. The door locks and we walk a little bit down the dock.
When I get on the boat, I turn around to say something else to Tim, but he's already gone.
4
Isabelle
I saw Tim push Tyler. He put his hands on him and just did it. It was so sudden that Tyler didn’t see it coming. He just fell in the water with a surprised look on his face.
I was watching them from the deck of the boat and I jumped out as soon as I saw him do it.
It wasn't an accident. Tim took a step closer, extended his arms, and pushed him in.
“What are you doing?” I yell running over, but Tim just stands there with a muted expression on his face.
I glance over at him as I reach for Tyler and I’m shocked by how absent he looks. It’s like he’s here but not.
Tyler’s heavy. A lot heavier than I thought he would be. He pulls himself as far out as he can, but his lips are turning blue and I can see that the cold is getting to him.
Walking with Tyler with his arm slung over me back to the boat, he shivers so hard that it shakes the whole dock. I help him onto the boat and down the steps into the cabin.
That's when I start to peel off all of his clothing and turn on the shower.
“No, no, no!” he says, stepping out as soon as the hot water hits his skin. “It's too hot.”
I feel it and it's barely lukewarm.
“I can't,” he says.
I grab his robe and put it on. I turn on the kettle to make him a tall mug of tea, which he holds for a long time before taking a sip.
Finally, after a little while, he starts to feel better. He even smiles and agrees to take a shower.
“That could have gone better,” he jokes and I see that he's back to being his old self now.
“Why did he do that?” I ask.
“I told him that I can’t give him his job back.”
“He was stealing from you though.”
“I know, some people are just really entitled,” Tyler says, shaking his head.
“So, you know that he did that on purpose, right?”
“Yeah, I do,” Tyler agrees.
I'm not sure what else to say except for that I suddenly notice that my hands are shaking.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just keep thinking that you could have died.”
“Well, that's kind of an exaggeration,” Tyler says, shaking his head.
“Is it? That water is freezing. If I hadn’t been there, you would not have been able to get out. Then what? Tim didn’t look like he was going to help you.”
“I would have swam to the rocks.”
“The waves would have pummeled you against them.”
Neither of us say anything for a little while thinking about that.
If this had happened to anyone else then the right thing to do would be to call the police and to report what he had done, but it didn't happen to anyone else.
It happened to Tyler.
The problem is that we can't call the police.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“About what?”
“About Tim?”
“I'm really tired, Isabelle I don't know.”
He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. His skin feels warm now and everything is seemingly okay, but I have a nagging feeling that makes me think that it's not and it probably won't be for a long time.