Dreamboat Dad Read Online Free PDF

from several kids rattling down there
against the rock face where coins have nowhere else to go but sink deeper
into the sand and fine pebbles, waiting for lucky kids to find them.
    Yank today with another purpose moves quite a way upstream, quite
a struggle wading against the flow. Reaches a spot out of the others' sight,
turns, breathes deep, slips beneath the waters. Gone.
    To his own private galaxy: it could be the heavens he races across
— he's found a means to position his body forward in a crouch and run
as if sprinting, the current speeds him across the watery sky, he becomes
a comic-book hero, his own person none can see or witness, picking
up speed; he can see bodies ahead so he can avoid them as he sweeps
downriver, swift, a hero with power of flight, mind taken somewhere
none can know, for he is alone in this discovery with no intention of
sharing it; his mates think he just swims underwater like they all do, but
this is different.
    He's doing it for his father. For the grinning Yank in the cowboy
outfit looking down from that bridge, waiting for his son to pop up. Or
he's John Wayne in US marine uniform, as he must have appeared to the
boy's mother, in dry-cleaned clothes (an American custom they brought
here). Man of perfect features and perfect grooming looking out for his
boy.
    Up Yank comes, to the surface grinning up at the imaginary figure
beaming back at him. Father throws his son a half crown. For you, son.
Don't let anyone else get it. And down Yank goes, into the clear water,
can see the biggest coin of all looping its way down: propels at it with feet
driving off the sand. Gotcha!
    Up he comes. Thanks, Pops!
    The first coach-loads of tourists are dropped at the spot near the
memorial archway where local women guides wait to take them on their
thermal wonderland tour. Soon the first group appears on the bridge
above, many nationalities, Americans dominating, Australians, English,
Canadians, those from different European countries but not former foes
— Germany, Italy, Japan.
    Throwapennyplease! Throwapennyplease! When really, they want the silver
coins thrown, especially a half crown. And Yank just wants to see the face
of the father come back to take him home — to America!
    The others are fierce competitors now, relation or no, this is treats in
their bellies, entrance to the pictures, status and confirmation, affirmation,
acquired by charm and begging, beauty, grace and courage: just watch
them sail down twenty feet from the bridge into less than their height of
water. Lady, I'll jump off for sixpence. Sir, I'll dive off the top rail for a
shilling, do a toe-touch dive, mister, for two bob. Ma'am, you should see
my swan dive. Two and six for a somersault and pay after you've seen it.
    Yank clambers up the rock face on to the bridge. Asks his Yank father
in his mind does he want his son to jump or dive? Naturally Pops wants to
see a dive. Which is a lot more scary and difficult than jumping. But if he
doesn't do it then his father will just disappear.
    So he steps up on to the rail, the water so far below he wants to die.
For Pops, Yank. Do it for your father.
    The American tourists call out encouragement, a local kid asks who is
he diving for, meaning he didn't see Yank put a coin in his mouth.
    Yank focuses on the place his body will break apart in front of his
father's eyes, wishing there was another way to impress. There isn't. Not
at Waiwera. It's what kids do. What the son of the American must do.
    Takes some time before he can find the courage. Several Yank women
suggest he step down: it's too dangerous and we can see you don't want to
do it. But he must do it. For his daddy.
    Okay, ready now, Dad. Watch this.
    Throws himself into the air and all fear departs, legs held together,
arms out, feels like falling forever. Fingers slice into the water, he bends
his back to break the descent, hears a snatch of cheering above him before
the water encloses him and so does pride at showing his father