A "Breathtaking" Contest

 By Trinity S.

“You cannot!” Thirteen-year-old Jem Coulter snorted in disgust. Will Sterling’s arrogance was astonishing in its volume but undoubtedly unconvincing. Well, not all of it. Will constantly reminded the entire town that his father owned the Midas mine and his family was by far the richest in all of Goldtown. Jem had to admit that the dark-haired, smug boy was right about that. But holding his breath longer than anyone else in town?

              “I can too!” Will shot back, eyes alight with pride and mouth twisted up in haughty indignation. “And I can prove it.”

              Years ago, Jem would have argued back. Now he knew perfectly well that Will was not typically open to reason, let alone solid facts. Sharp retorts, no matter how true, would only cause the situation to worsen. Annoyed and somehow unable to find something pleasant to reply, Jem shook his head and turned to go. School had let out a few minutes ago, and Jem was eager to get back to the house to finish his chores. Afterward he would rush to the creek with his gold pan. Gold had been scarce, but Jem hoped to find a few flakes at least this afternoon, and time was wasting away.

              “I can prove it!” Will repeated, snagging Jem’s arm. “I bet you fifty cents that I can hold my breath longer than you can.”

              Jem paused, considering. Fifty cents was more than he could find panning for gold for days, and it would only take a couple minutes to prove Will wrong. He’d show him, collect his fifty cents, and be back home in a jiffy. The thought never occurred to him that if Will won, Jem might not have fifty cents to pay him.

              “Okay,” Jem agreed.

              “Let’s go to the fishing hole in the creek,” Will said. “Whoever can keep their face underwater longest wins.”

              “I’ll get Ellie,” Jem suggested. “She can be the judge.” To his surprise, Will didn’t argue.

              After fetching his sister from across the schoolyard, they tromped west to the fishing hole. At the foot of a pretty little waterfall, the pool was at least fifteen feet deep. Jem scrutinized the pool, involuntarily shuddering at the depth of the center. He wasn’t sure if Will was aware that he couldn’t swim. I’m just sticking my face in the water for a minute, that’s all. I’m not jumping in or anything.  

The two boys laid down on the bank, staring into their own rippled reflections. Jem, confident on the outside but secretly terrified, tried to breathe deeply.

              “Ready?” Ellie peeped, eyes sparkling.

              Jem nodded, and Will smirked. “Ready.”

              Ellie danced excitedly on the bank. “Three. Two,” she counted down. “One. Go!”

              Without a glance at Will, Jem plunged his face into the water. It was colder than he’d expected, and it took everything in him to keep from blowing out his breath all at once. Eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, he tried to concentrate on keeping track of time. Four, five, six, he counted, trying to keep his thoughts slow and methodical. His hands gripped the edge of the bank. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

              Suddenly, Jem thought he heard a splashing commotion. He felt—and heard—the sudden moving and displacement of water just to his left. He kept his face underwater, thinking it may be a trick to get him to come up early. Jem tried to stay calm. He had lost count a while ago, but he knew he must be at around thirty seconds now. His throat began to tighten, and his lungs strained to pull in fresh air. His heart pumped wildly, pleading with him to take a breath. He told himself he would after he counted to ten.

              After what felt like a year, Jem raised his head, dripping and gasping. It took him a moment to regain proper coherence and decipher what was going on. Until then, it was all confusion.

              Ellie was shouting something incoherent. Her face seemed to signify urgency but also, simultaneously, humor.

              Then Jem noticed that Will was not beside him. His eyebrows shot up. Had he won? Had Will run off?

              Suddenly he noticed splashing from the center of the pool. It was Will. How he had ended up there was anybody’s guess, but it seemed unimportant at the moment.

              “There’s gold down here!” Will shouted. “A whole pile!” His arms flailed, splashing water in every direction.

              Jem gasped. Before he could ask anything, Will sank below the waves.

              Jem knew Will could swim, so he didn’t worry. He also figured jumping in would be foolish, so he stayed on the bank, wiping water from his face and still panting.

              In a few moments, Will resurfaced, gasping, his face aglow with triumph. He splashed to the shore and held up a large, glittering rock a bit bigger than an orange. “Look!” he gasped. “There’s a ton of it down there!”

              Ellie gasped in wonder and reached out to touch it, but Will shied away. “No! I’m going to go file a claim for this pool, and all this gold will be mine!” Cradling the gold in his arms, Will bounded off.

              Ellie turned to Jem, eyes bigger than half-dollar coins. “Jem! That’s so much gold—and it’ll all be his!”

              To his sister’s consternation, Jem burst into laughter. “No, it won’t.”

              “What?” Ellie stared at him.

              “First, this pool is on old Mr. Jenkin’s land. He lets anybody come and fish or swim, but it’s illegal to pan for gold here. Second—” He chuckled. “That’s not gold.”

              Ellie gaped. “How do you know?”

              “Are you kidding? Gold is extremely heavy! There’s no way Will could have hauled a huge chunk of real gold like that from the bottom of that pool.”

              Jem laughed again, for once not caring that he would not be given the fifty cents he had won. He’d never know why Will had challenged him. “C’mon, Ellie. Let’s go pan for some real gold.”