looked back at Dad, who watched me, unsmiling. I tried to push out into
deeper water, but something held me back. Dad dived in and splashed his
way toward me. "You're going to learn to swim today," he said.
He put an arm around me, and we started across the water. Dad was
dragging me. I felt terrified and clutched his neck so tightly that his skin
turned white. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Dad asked when we got
to the other side.
We started back, and this time, when we got to the middle, Dad pried my
fingers from around his neck and pushed me away. My arms flailed
around, and I sank into the hot, smelly water. I instinctively breathed in.
Water surged into my nose and mouth and down my throat. My lungs
burned. My eyes were open, the sulfur stinging them, but the water was
dark and my hair was wrapped around my face and I couldn't see
anything. A pair of hands grabbed me around the waist. Dad pulled me
into the shallow water. I was spitting and coughing and breathing in
uneven choking gasps.
"That's okay," Dad said. "Catch your breath."
When I recovered, Dad picked me up and heaved me back into the
middle of the Hot Pot. "Sink or swim!" he called out. For the second
time, I sank. The water once more filled my nose and lungs. I kicked and
flailed and thrashed my way to the surface, gasping for air, and reached
out to Dad. But he pulled back, and I didn't feel his hands around me
until I'd sunk one more time.
He did it again and again, until the realization that he was rescuing me
only to throw me back into the water took hold, and so, rather than
reaching for Dad's hands, I tried to get away from them. I kicked at him
and pushed away through the water with my arms, and finally, I was able
to propel myself beyond his grasp.