Summer of '71 Chapter 12

A beautiful summer day in June, and I'm getting ready to swim out to a dead body in a lake in an abandoned sand quarry somewhere near Millville or Vineland.
A dead body?
What am I doing here?
I'm pretty tired from swimming out there and back from before, so I decide to take a small inflatable raft, you know, the little ones you use in swimming pools.
Sherri Ehlers says she'll go with me for support.
Sherri and I are "platonic" friends. We kinda go out on dates, but only as friends. I try to be more than that, but Sherri is in a relationship, so I don't press her too hard. She's a pretty girl from Wenonah, and she's athletic, so I'm glad she's coming with me.
We head out towards where the body is floating, using the raft for breathing spells.
I can't remember much of our conversation, mostly a lot of "man, I can't believe this is happening", and "didn't somebody say this place would make a good spot to dump Mafia victims?"

Well, we come up to the body, and Sherri sees the hands tied behind its back, and how chalky white the hands are.

I reach out with my hand and touch the shoulder, and there's this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
It's a real body all right. I can tell from touching it that it's flesh and bone.
I'm freaking out and Sherri's freaking out, and everyone else on shore is freaking out.

I grab the shirt and begin pulling this dead person behind me. Sherri swims out in front of me guiding me towards the nearest shore. I've got one hand pulling the body and the other paddling over the small raft under my arm. It's not all that far to shore, but it feels like forever.
Sherri is talking to me, but I really don't know what she's saying for sure.

Finally we make it to the sand and I can let go.

We can see now that it's a young male about my age. His hands and feet are bound up with tape, and he's wearing a blue and white striped T-shirt and jeans. A small amount of blood trickles out of his nose. His face is pale and his lips are a kind of purple and blue color.

Sherri and I look at each other, and we're both saying the same thing: "We'd better go to the police."