The Big Time

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

" I TOLD YOU G Money has the keys to this city," Troy's father said.

"But," Troy said, hustling to keep up along the concrete sidewalk, "it's a fish tank. You can't just swim in it, no matter who you are."

"Well," his father said, still walking, "technically speaking, we're not going to swim; we're going to dive. But you could say swim."

"Dive?" Troy said. They had reached the door to the entrance now, and his dad stepped up to the members window, where he gave his name to the person inside. A woman wearing a blue blazer and carrying a radio appeared, introducing herself as Christine Swimmer, the assistant manager of the aquarium.

"Right this way," she said.

"I don't know," Troy said, whispering to his dad. "I had a goldfish once, and they make a disgusting mess."

His father smiled down at him and tousled his hair.

"Don't worry," he said, "you're going to love this. I promise. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You'll be in a wet suit and breathing through a tube."

They climbed a set of back stairs and emerged into a huge open space with a salty marsh smell like the time he'd gone crab fishing off the bridge leading to Jekyll Island on the coast. A metal mesh floor surrounded a round tank of water bigger than any pool Troy had ever seen. He sniffed and watched as a young woman wearing a wet suit dug her hands into a huge cooler, coming up with fistfuls of dead and bloody fish, which she tossed into the water. Colors flashed beneath the water's churning surface, and two dark shadows cruised through the frenzy like a bad dream.

"Sharks," his father said, nodding at the water. "You ever hear of that saying?"

"What saying?" Troy asked.

"'Swim with the sharks'?" his father said, pointing to the water, then at two sets of wet suits, masks, and fins hanging from hooks on the wall. "Don't worry. It's perfectly safe. They just ate. Come on."

Troy followed his father through a door and into a locker room, where they changed into their bathing suits, then returned to the tank.

"Charlie and Melissa will help you out," Christine Swimmer said, and two young people in wet suits appeared and showed them how to get into their gear.

Troy found himself stepping into a wet suit, wiggling his feet and hands to push them through their openings, and then sucking in his breath as Charlie zipped up the suit from behind. Troy slipped his feet into flippers and helped fix the mask on his face. Then Charlie strapped a belt around Troy's middle that had pouches filled with plastic-covered weights. When Troy's father put an arm around his shoulders, it almost made Troy's worry disappear, but not quite.

"Okay," his father said, "here's the thing: You're scared."

"I'm not scared," Troy said.

"Yeah, you are," his father said happily, "but that's okay. That's the point of this. It scares me, too. Look at that whale shark."

Troy looked to where his dad was pointing. A shadow twice as long as Gramps's fishing boat cruised across the tank. Troy gulped.

"No way should we be jumping into the water with that thing," his father said. "It's a primal fear. It comes from our forefathers, all the way back to the cavemen. People who mixed with things like that got eaten. Only the ones smart enough to be afraid survived."

He looked at Troy, and Troy couldn't help feeling confused.

"The big-time people overcome that fear," his father said. "They don't pretend it doesn't exist. They deal with it and dominate it. They take the stage. They write the great novel. They drop back and throw the touchdown pass that wins the game. It's all scary, because most people don't make it. Most people fail, so they never even try.

"This is just a symbol of what we've got ahead of us, you and me. There's going to be scary things-things big and dark that you can't quite see-that you'll have to jump in the tank with. It starts here. Come on. I'll be with you. Trust me. I told you I've always wanted a son. I'm sure not going to lose you this quick."

Drew reached for a long yellow hose coiled neatly on the side of an air compressor. He flipped the switch so that it whirred to life. "Here, you put this regulator in your mouth. Stick with me. Charlie will be in there with us, too. I promise, this is something you'll never forget; and when you come out of there, you'll never be the same."

Charlie gave Troy some basic instructions and showed him how to go in with his hand covering his mask as well as the regulator, which stuck out of his mouth like a small can of tuna. Troy watched as his father shrugged into a buoyancy vest with its own air tank and weight pockets, then nodded at Troy and stepped into the water. Troy bit down on the rubber mouthpiece, covered his face, and stepped off the ledge, plunging into a swirl of bubbles and the kingdom of monsters.

Troy felt his father's strong grip on his upper arm, and he turned to see Drew's questioning look and the "okay" sign he made with his fingers. Troy nodded and signaled "okay" back, even though he felt his heart bumping in his throat.

Beneath them, the spotted whale shark swept its tail back and forth like a pendulum. All around, the smaller and more colorful fish zoomed back and forth. Troy and his dad sank slowly, the coral formations crowding in on them. The hiss and click of a million air bubbles exploded all around them.

Then Troy's dad nudged him and pointed, and there it came: a ten-foot hammerhead shark, with its nasty sneer and its dull dead eyes, snaking up toward them through the water. The pale chin dropped open, and Troy could see the jagged rows of teeth. Without thinking, he broke for the surface, kicking madly, but his father held him down. He wrapped his muscular legs around Troy's legs, pinning him in a human vise so that Troy stopped struggling.

The shark came right at them, its mouth grinning wildly at the sight of Troy's terror. Its eyes seemed to dance at the thought of his blood.