I hope I taught him well

            "Ok, one more time, Jimmy, then class will end," I told my exhausted student, Jimmy Corral. He was having a hard time bringing the twelve-pound cinderblock up from the bottom of the lake, a requirement for his life-saving class.
              This training exercise is used to prepare students to be able to bring up a person from the bottom of a lake or pool. For years many of my students have attempted this exercise and gotten the hang of it after a few tries, but Jimmy hadn't been able to get close to bringing it up so far.
              My name is Mr. Wallace and I train juveniles and adults in lifesaving techniques so that they will be able to save a life some day. As I watched Jimmy dive down, I severely hoped he would manage to bring up the weight.
            This requirement was not particularly my favorite one to teach and if he succeeded, tomorrow we could move on to boating rescues. In what seemed like minutes, but was probably only a couple seconds, Jimmy came into view under the water, dog paddling for dear life, dragging the weight behind him.
            "Closer, just a little bit closer." I whispered under my breath.
              But at the last second he let go of the rope and shot to the surface with a splash. As I helped him on the dock, I tried to encourage him.
              "Maybe better luck next time."
              He was too exhausted to respond and it was crystal clear we wouldn't be able to get him to try again, not today at least.
              After watching him gasp for air, I said, "Jimmy, how' bout you go dry off and head over to the dining hall. I'll be right over in a sec."
              Jimmy seemed to have no problem with this request and as quickly as his tired body could manage, he stumbled off the dock. I, on the other hand, had to check on a place in the dock where a bunch of rowdy boys had crashed their sailboat earlier that morning. For some reason, I forgot my own rule of only walking on the dock. My fast stride would have not been a problem if I had been on a dry dock. But the same boys thought it would be fun to have a cannon-ball contest instead of practicing their swimming strokes. Their contest left the dock soaked and ultimately, extremely slick and this led to the problem. I slipped ... badly. The next few seconds seemed to crawl by as my head flew toward the edge of the dock.
              One last thought flashed in my head as I fell, "I hope I taught him well."
              Then all went black.



              As Jimmy walked off the dock, he couldn't help being disappointed with himself.  Thoughts raged through his head.
                "Just a couple more inches and I could have made it. Why couldn't I hold my breath longer like my friends! Sure I'm the wimp in my class, I didn't play football until I was in the fifth grade. I make A's in all my classes but why can't I be the one who makes a touchdown or can swim better than them?"
        He almost reached the bench where he left his towel when he heard a thud followed by a splash.
              "What's Mr. Wallace up to now?" Jimmy wondered.
              "Mr. Wallace, what are you doing?" He hollered in the direction he last saw him.
              Jimmy stood there fully expecting an immediate answer. But he heard nothing but the waves lapping on the shoreline. He turned around to scan the dock, but there was no one to be seen.
              "Surely this is not a joke, Mr. Wallace had never pranked anyone before," Jimmy thought desperately.
              Maybe Mr. Wallace had a humorous side no one had ever seen.  Unlikely, but at the same time Jimmy severely hoped so.  In seconds his body had already started to panic.
              "What if he is drowning," he thought, "What am I supposed to do?"
                As these negative thoughts passed through his head, Jimmy knew he would have to remain calm if this was an emergency. In minutes someone can die or receive permanent brain damage and he will not get anywhere if he panicked. But he was all alone and all his friends had already started to hike the mile and a half to the dining hall long ago.
                "I wouldn't get back here in time to save him! I will have to take the situation into my own hands and use the lessons Mr. Wallace had taught to save my own teacher," he thought.
                Jimmy hastily but careful walked to the place he saw Mr. Wallace last, looking for clues to where he was. If this was an emergency he had to find him soon. Jimmy tried to remember what Mr. Wallace had said during the class. I suddenly remembered that he said he was going to have to check the place where the boat had hit earlier to see if there was any damage to fix. Jimmy walked over to the place where the boat hit. He immediately noticed something that chilled his blood. On the dock were large, new puddles of water. This water wasn't from the kids that were playing around earlier. That water would of dried up more than these puddles, and that meant that Mr. Wallace was down in that murky water ... somewhere.
                Without a moment of hesitation, Jimmy dived into the lake. When he felt the lake's muddy clay, he started to feel around for his teacher. Only seconds later, Jimmy's lungs started to burn, begging for oxygen. He was about to surface when he felt something that felt like fabric. It was him! Jimmy, as quickly as possible, surfaced, sucked in a lungful of air and dived in the spot he thought he felt something. His teacher's life rested in the speed he used. Groping around, Jimmy felt something solid. He reached under his teacher's arms in order to get a firm hold on him.  Adrenaline pumped though his veins giving him strength he never knew he had, but desperately needed.
                "I will not let my teacher die!" This thought controlled all of his senses making his almost unaware of his lack of air.
                  He pulled with all his strength, trying to dogpaddle to the surface, weighted down by his one hundred and eight-five pound teacher. Above him, the clearness of the sky and the light of the sun seem so near but so far away at the same time. All that separated Jimmy from that sustaining air was two inches of unforgiving water. He longed for a breath of that sweet air as he tried to drag his teacher's limp body. Just as Jimmy's lungs felt they were going to burst, he broke the surface. As he breathed in and out, the burning in his lungs subsided. He had never appreciated oxygen so much in his life before. As he breathed fresh air into his lungs, he grabbed the ladder and tried to pull my teacher up the dock.
                "Man, this guy is heavy," he gasped as his arms started to ache from pure exhaustion.
                  After a few unsuccessful tries Jimmy stopped to rest for a second. Almost immediately Mr. Wallace's body started slip out of my hands.
                  "No!" he yelled in desperation.
                  Jimmy fully understood if his body slipped back into the water he would not be able to retrieve it. With all of his remaining strength, he yanked him on to the dock and collapsed right next to him. Jimmy's body felt as if it had been under a dog pile of NFL football players. Every cell in his body ached and screamed in protest of their mistreatment. Next to him Mr. Wallace's body lie limp on the wood of the dock, his face pale as a sheet. Jimmy hoped he wasn't too late. He struggled to get to his knees, ignoring the pain and soreness my body was experiencing.
                  "Why can't the job be done already?" Jimmy begged himself. "Haven't I done enough?"
                  Although his teacher's body was not on the bottom of the lake, it still wasn't saved. He wasn't breathing. Immediately, he started rescue breathing. As he breathed air into his lungs, Jimmy appreciated that he had gone to CPR class instead of playing football.
                "I guess there are benefits to being a smarty," he thought.
                After a couple breaths, Mr. Wallace's still wasn't responding. He had been under for a while and Jimmy knew if he didn't succeed soon he wouldn't succeed at all. He was almost ready to quit when Mr. Wallace started to make a gagging sound and all at once he started vomiting out all the water in his lungs.
                "Thank you, God," he said.
                After Jimmy dragged him off the dock on land, he started to run to get help at the dining hall. The happiness and relief of my success had given him new strength.



                  A week later, Mr. Wallace's condition was promising and he was expected to recover quickly. When the medics first found him they thought he might have sustained some brain damage. Fortunately, he was back to his old, stubborn self in a few hours.
                Jimmy received an award for his rescue, but didn't feel that anyone had to make a big deal out of it. He did what anyone would had done. When Mr. Wallace offered a reward for saving his life, Jimmy refused and said, "I only was able to save you because you trained me well. Just keep helping others have the potential to do what I did and I am satisfied."


This story was written during a long, week at Boy Scout Camp. Boredom can often cultivate that spark of imagination.