I sigh and say, “Stay here,” to the twins, repeating, “Non muovetevi.”
I swim across the cove and reach the rocks. I look over my shoulder at them before I start climbing. They’re sitting side by side on the steps and watching me in anticipation.
I’m not so bad climbing up things as I am climbing down things, and the lump of rock isn’t high enough to give me vertigo or anything like that, but I don’t really like how my ass is probably hanging out of my bikini while I try to lift myself up. I’m glad that Derio has decided to go for his lighthouse swim so he doesn’t have to see this.
Once I’m close to the caftan, which is snagged on a sharp rock, I steady myself, my toes hooked into one small ledge. I grab on to a solid rock with one hand to balance and stretch across to my caftan, my breasts smushed painfully against the rock, my arm reaching as far as I can. The caftan suddenly lifts, about to be blown away, and I make a grab for it.
At the same time, my whole body tips to the left, completely off balance, and as my fingers wrap around the edge of the cloth, I know the victory will be short-lived. I let out a cry as my body dips toward the sea and I try hard to twist away from the rock.
Despite my efforts, my left shoulder and the corner of my head still hit the rock, and I feel a sharp stab of pain at my temple and scraped skin at my shoulder bone before I plunge into the sea.
I’m not knocked out but I’m in deep water and disoriented. I let go of the caftan, which has wrapped itself around my head underwater, obscuring my sight. I don’t know which way is up or down, and in a moment of panic I open my mouth to breathe. Water seeps into my lungs and I try to cough but I can’t, and my arms and legs don’t seem to be working. I don’t know where the surface is. I want to scream but I’m drowning and I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Suddenly, arms hook underneath me, pulling me up to the surface, and I’m gasping for air, still choking on water. I try to get it out, violently puking the water back into the sea, my lungs feeling as if they have been scraped with pumice stones. I cough and cough and cough, but still so thankful that I can, that there is air and my head is above water.
I am dragged to the steps and only then do I realize that Derio has rescued me. His face is absolutely pale, his eyes frozen in fear as he keeps repeating my name.
I can only nod at him to tell him I’m okay. I hear Annabella and Alfonso crying and the murmurs and gasps of the bystanders watching it all unfold.
A man comes down the steps and aids Derio in helping me up to the platform. I stand there, shivering for some reason, while a woman wraps a big towel around me. I look down and see my shoulder is scraped open, a gaping pink wound, and blood is leaking from my head. I can’t help feeling a bit woozy at the sight but Derio’s arm is right there again, holding me up.
Soon, I am led away from the sunbathers and past the restaurant full of gawking onlookers. A tiny ambulance speeds into the parking lot and I am quickly ushered into the back by a lot of fast-talking Italians. I want to tell them that I feel fine, that I will be fine, but I honestly don’t know if that’s true. I’m just glad to be alive.
The hospital is located outside of Capri town but this time the ride doesn’t bother me—I just keep my eyes closed anyway and figure, What are the chances of an ambulance careening off the cliffs? When we get there I’m amazed to see how small it is, a somewhat modern but nondescript building we could have passed by earlier, unnoticed.
The size works in my favor, though. I’m escorted into the emergency room by the attendants but there’s no one there so I’m immediately put into a room. Derio and the kids aren’t there either; I guess they had to catch a cab and follow since there was no room in the tiny ambulance.
There’s a friendly doctor, Doctor Romano, with tiny, kind eyes who speaks perfect English and dotes on me with lots of stinging solutions and Band-Aids. He asks me lots of questions about my head, how I’m feeling, if I’m dizzy. I tell him I’m tired and in shock but my head feels fine otherwise, just hurts a bit where the wound is. Luckily he says that the head bleeds easily and it’s not a deep injury at all. He also adds that I’m very lucky that someone was there to save me.
I feel horrible about that. I would have rather some random person pull me out from the sea than Derio. I saw the fear in his eyes. I almost drowned in front of him. I know I don’t mean much to him, but that couldn’t have been easy for him to see.
Eventually, Doctor Romano tells me I am free to go, I just need to treat the wounds like I would any cut and if I feel the slightest bit dizzy or sick, I have to come back here immediately. He also tells me I have a load of paperwork to fill out. I give a silent prayer of thanks for the travel medical insurance I purchased.