Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

tried three times before I smacked the water in frustration.
    “How the heck am I supposed to get in this friggin thing?”
    Buster was dancing around and whining, dipping the front of his body down towards me.   He looked like he was thinking of jumping in to help me.   I was relieved to see Peter put his hand on the dog’s back, settling him down.   Buster abandoned the idea of saving me in favor of lick-attacking Peter’s hand.
    “Wait a minute.   I’m coming.”
    Bodo swam over and got on the opposite side of the canoe.   “I’ll hold dis side down.   Now you use the edge to pull yourself in.”
    This time when I grabbed it, the leverage Bodo gave me on the other side kept the canoe from tipping.   The water added another forty pounds or so to my body weight, at least that’s what it felt like, but I was finally able to pull myself in and flop over into the boat.   The seat shelf that was moulded to the inside of the canoe jammed into my back, and I knew I was going to be feeling that for few days after.
    “Thanks, Bodo.   Pull yours up next to me so I can help you.”
    I nearly flipped my own canoe trying to provide him the counterbalance for his entry, but eventually we were all in our own boats and no longer tethered to dry land.   It was a weird sensation, floating freely while also being connected to everything and everyone that meant something to me.  
    “I wonder if this is what Christopher Columbus felt like,” said Peter, paddling.   He was already looking like a semi-pro the way he was maneuvering his canoe.
    I followed behind, trying the different paddles so I could get a feel for them.   I wasn’t nearly as coordinated at Peter was, no matter which one I used.
    “Hey!   You’re pulling my rear end off balance,” he accused, struggling to paddle backwards with his oar and readjust his position.
    “I’m not even touching your rear end, you big baby.”
    “You’re connected to it, though.   Steer straighter.”
    “I’m trying.   It’s not that easy.”   My canoe seemed to have a mind of its own, the nose of it first going left and then right.
    “Less muscle, more finesse,” suggested Peter.
    “Fine,” I grumbled.   I didn’t like not being good at things.   Usually when I tried something and put a lot of effort into it, I was successful.   Canoes, so far, were one of my few failures, but I wasn’t going to give up so easily.  
    “Looks good from back here,” said Bodo.   “I think we’re gonna be okay.”
    “Not a problem!” shouted Peter.
    “Yeah, it’s not a problem, Bodo,” I said, smiling with the happiness of our team-level success and the joy of mocking my friend.
    “You guyss are making fun of me again, I know dat.   But da joke iss on you, because now you are using my words.   Dat means I am a leader and you are my followerss!”
    “All hail King Bodo!” I said in a thundering voice.
    “We are not worthy,” joined in Peter.   He turned to shoot me a huge grin, making me thrilled to see him so happy.   It was the first time in a couple days that the shroud of sorrow had truly lifted from his face for just a few seconds.
    We continued down the easy-flowing waterway for what seemed like miles.   It twisted and turned, making its way farther and farther into a more heavily-treed area.   There were huge cypress hammocks surrounding us now, with long tresses of Spanish moss hanging down.   The roots of the trees had grown into strange shapes, some of them stretching out to join the limbs and roots of nearby trees, causing them to look almost like people holding hands … or in some cases, strangling each other.   The filtered light and the little bugs flying lazily around lent a very spooky feeling to the place.   It was almost as if we were in another world entirely.
    The current picked up, making controlling our canoes more difficult.   The more heavily-laden boats got pulled this way and that, making the control of our three manned boats almost impossible.   Peter’s canoe ran into an outcropping of a bank for the fifth time in as many minutes.  
    “Dammit!” he yelled.   “I can’t get this thing to go straight anymore.”   He was paddling backwards madly when he suddenly stopped and sat up straighter.   “Oh my god,” he said, sounding like a happy child.   “They are so cool!”
    Buster ran to the front of the canoe, barking like crazy.   He paused only to run over to Peter and then back to the front one