Velden by Whitney Justesen

The pure, crisp scent of rain hung in the air surrounding the resort town of Velden, Austria. Earlier in the day it had been warm and humid here, but clouds had gathered once the sun began to hang low in the sky. A group of my friends and I raced  down the slope to the base of the hill, where the grass met the shore of the natural lake. Outfitted with only a lycra swimsuit and shorts, I tore down the lawn with my bare feet until I reached the dock.

A crowd had already gathered, friends I had seen every day for the past two weeks, and professors with their cameras at the ready. Over dinner we had planned to jump into the lake as a group, and it had seemed like a good idea until now. As I stood on the hardwood jetty gathering my auburn hair into a loose bun atop my head, I stared into the iridescent water, realizing for the first time that I could not see to the bottom. Too much algae got in the way of that attempt.

The professors told us to line up, and one by one we took our place at the edge of the dock, as though we had done this several times before. My toes gripped the edge of the wooden landing stage and I took a deep breath, staring out across the lake to the hazy mountains in the distance. I felt a sudden tug on my hand and realized my friend Reece beside me had taken it in his grasp, and he smiled and nodded at me with encouragement. I calmed immediately; his easy smile had that effect on me. I gave him a nervous grin in return and squeezed his hand. I was ready—well, I told myself I was anyway. If I waited until I was really ready I would probably be standing here forever.

And then came the shout from our professor, counting down in German. Nobody spoke German in our group except him so I didn’t see the point of that, but he deemed it necessary, so I went along with it. Before I could catch my breath, the word Go! rang in the air, and we jumped.

All at once, the distant mountains left my view and I was submerged in the most raw, mind-numbing water I had ever felt in my entire life. It was as though I had plunged into a bucket of ice, and I was not prepared for the shock of it. Quickly, I shot up through the surface, breaking through the weight of the water with a loud splash. I coughed violently, choking out the water from my throat, and I gasped for air, with my legs kicking beneath me to keep me afloat. Desperately, I swam to the dock with the rest of my friends and we all grasped onto the sodden edge, trying to pull ourselves up with a useless effort.

Once I realized that this endeavor was not going to work, I began to swim in the direction of the ladder, shivering uncontrollably. Everyone was screaming, it seemed, but I couldn’t join with them; my throat burned and I could hardly breathe, let alone shriek into the sky. At last, my numb, trembling fingers gripped the ladder and I ascended the steps, until I was finally out of the glacial lake and on the dock once again. Everyone began to hug each other and jump up and down to get warm, and I joined them, hoping for anything that would take this ungodly cold away from my bones.

“Want to jump in again?” Reece suddenly asked, as though in the back of my mind. I realized my ears were clogged with lake water, so I shook my head and turned toward him. He was dancing anxiously on his toes, with a lightweight cobalt towel slung over his shoulder.

I could have laughed at him for the suggestion, but I thought the better of it. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, because he seemed genuinely thrilled about getting back into the subzero water. “I—I don’t th—think so,” I sputtered, bending down to gather my clothes. “M—maybe next time.”

I turned and took off up the hill. I was never getting in that water again, that was for absolutely certain.

* * *

It was a few hours later and I was finally warm enough to function again. I was perched on the bench outside of the hotel, wearing a baggy gray sweatshirt emblazoned with my university’s crest over skinny black jeans. My hair was towel-dried and fell in a tumble of unruly waves around my shoulders, and in my hands I clasped a mug of hot chocolate. Pressing the rim of the cup against my parched lips, I inhaled the rich, sweet scent of it and sighed, looking out over the dark grounds beyond.

In the endless expanse of sky above me, a storm was gathering. I could hear the low rumble of thunder in the distance, while subtle flashes of lightning lit up the sky from time to time. It had rained earlier, but the world seemed at rest for a moment, and I got lost in the peacefulness of this place. It had been a busy day—after my group and I arrived at our hotel, we had gone on a group bike ride around the lake, and following our jump in the lake we had worn ourselves out playing games in the indoor thermal pool.

A few of us were going to walk into town to get ice cream—as was our nightly custom—but the weather had caused many of the group to change their minds. I, however, was still determined to venture down to the bay, storm or not; I would even go by myself if I had to.

One of my friends suddenly came through the door, knocking on the hard wooden frame. “You ready to go?” she posed, as a flash of lightning lit up the night sky.

I put down my mug and nodding my head to her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

Our group walked along the dimly lit streets of the resort town, talking quietly to each other about the day and anything else we could think of. It was nice to have these friends with me here, in one of the most beautiful cities I had ever visited in my life. Thunder echoed above us, reminding us of the impending downpour, but we didn’t mind it for the moment. The gentle thrum of the water dancing on the shore calmed us, while the lightning streaking across the sky was enough to make us jump every fifteen seconds.

We reached a little restaurant in the center of town, perched on the crescent of the bay. I wish I could remember the name of it now, but names don’t really mean much anyway, I’ve come to find. We ordered ice cream and hot cocoa, and we sat out on the open deck, talking comfortably in our tight-knit group as the café workers began to close up shop from inside. I looked around at the faces of the people I had come to love over the past few days, and I smiled to myself, trying to remember the last time I was this happy. There were not many moments in my life that could compare to this.

The downpour began, and within moments the restaurant was kicking us out. Together, we ran back to the hotel, laughing all the way as the torrent soaked through our clothing and flooded the lamp-lit streets. The scent of rain in Velden will always remain in my memory, and remembering the first shock of jumping into the lake will forever bring a smile to my face.