I wake up and put on my wetsuit to go scuba diving. I get that tingle of excitement in my neck and stomach. We will be exploring some shipwrecks in Lake Superior today.

I love Lake Superior, so cold and blue and mysterious. I love it for water skiing and swimming and especially for scuba diving.

One of my dad’s Coast Guard buddies, Ray, asked if his son could go with us today. He’s older than me. I’ve seen him around school.

He’s Native American and kinda cute. Plays football. His name’s Jared.

I don’t think he knows who I am.

Jared wants to get better at diving, so Dad’s going to work with him.

I’ll probably get stuck babysitting my little brother Peter most of the day, though. What a drag.

He’s not real little. He’s ten, but I’ll have to watch him inside the ships.

If Mom were here, if Mom…

And back comes that pressure in my chest, and my throat tightens, and my eyes sting.

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Dad.

“How’re you doing this morning, Kaylee?” he asks.

I can’t even talk. The tears just spill over. Dad puts his arms around me and lets me cry.

He says quietly, “I’ve been having a rough morning missing her, too. Diving will be good for us today. How about if you get some breakfast going?”

That was Mom’s job, too, I think to myself. But I do it, just like cleaning the bathrooms.

Oh, never mind. We are going diving today.

So, shortly after, we are on the boat and in the water. We have new waterproof microphones. Now we can communicate and hear each other’s conversations.

“Kaylee,” says Dad, "I’m getting a low reading on Peter’s oxygen. Go adjust his tank.”

I don’t know why, I just snapped, “Why do I always have to take care of my little brother? Since Mom died, you keep dumping more on me.”

Dad jumps in the water. He adjusts Peter’s tank himself and says, “How’s that, Sweet Pete?”

Peter says, “Don’t give me too much or I’ll look like a blowfish.”

“Kaylee,” Dad says, “losing Mom has been hard on all of us. We have to pull together more now.”

“I wanted to go to the movies with my friends today,” I say. And suddenly I blurt out, “I wish I wasn’t part of this family!”

Dad says soothingly, “We’re going to get through this, honey. Let’s help each other. This is Peter’s first independent dive. Let’s make it fun for him.” 

There is a pause as Dad climbs back on the boat.

Dad continues, “Ready? Peter, this ship is the Kiowa. It’s a freight steamer that sank in 1929 in a windstorm. Do you see the enclosed ladderway? Go ahead and climb down it.”

“Wow!” says Peter. “This is awesome! Look at this tunnel down here! Can we go in it?”

“You sure can,” says Dad.

We swim through with a school of fish.

“Look at the end of the tunnel, Peter,” says Jared. “It’s the propeller shaft.”

“Wow! It’s huge! Those gears are enormous!” says Peter. 

Dad chuckles, watching us explore.

The phone crackles with an incoming call.

“It’s Ray, from Coast Guard. Bad winds coming in. There’ll be turbulence. Take cover.”

“Thanks, Ray.” Dad clicks off the phone.

“Kids, Jared, that was your dad. All of you get back into the ladderway. Try to secure yourselves around the ladder. Stay in the enclosure. The storm should be over quickly.” 

Swimming back is difficult as the water begins churning.

At the ladderway, Jared pushes Peter upward. “Hang on, Buddy.”

Jared turns to help me. 

As I step higher, there is sudden suction. It pulls Peter up and out of the enclosure.

“Something’s got me!” he yells.

Jared grabs for him, but Peter is snatched away.