The under tow spun in the saltwater river like a transparent snake— drowning drift wood and life alike in its cold indiscriminate coil. Josephine was struggling. The river was twisting her down into its pulseless body.

“Hold on!” I wailed, reaching over the boat with all of my adrenaline scrunched to the tips of my outstreched fingers. She was helplessly beyond my grasp.

“Get the rope!” Josephine choked and spat, gasping as her cry faded into the monotones of the wind.

“The rope.” She wheezed as she submerged, thrashing up white foam that marked where she went under.

I braced for a frigid shock and plunged into the water. Saltwater stung my open eyes. I clutched Josephine’s wavy shirt in one hand, the taught rope tied to the boat in the other.