ChapterEleven
The River
After two days of playing in the meadows, we came to the decision that we would indeed return to the cottage.
Felix slumped as we came inside, after nearly two days of living in that field away from everything else.
“What are we to do now?” he moaned.
“Hmm…” I paced the floor. “I don’t know.”
“I think I’ll find a shady place outside for a game of chess,” Henry said. “Felix, would you do me the honors?”
Felix sat up. “Yes, sir!”
“I’m glad we brought the chess set,” I admitted. “I think I’ll go upstairs. We’ve barely begun to unpack.” And in that moment, I felt a burning brush of thrill. “You know,” I started, smiling, “I think it’s amazing that we have our own home.”
“Yeah…” Felix’s brows dug into his eyes. “No parents. No Father. We just have each other.”
I didn’t mean to start a riot and run wild just because Father wasn’t here. But after I let those ideas slip past my lips, there was nothing else I could do. I had unleashed the wilderness in my siblings.
“Forget the chess,” Felix said. “I’m hungry.”
“Hungry for what?” Henry asked.
“No, not really hungry. I’m hungry to run and play and be free. To muss up my hair”—which he did—“and take off these blasted shoes.”
“Me too,” Claudia declared, sounding like she thought she was being self-sacrificial somehow. “I don’t like these ribbons,” and she yanked them out of her hair, letting down two scraggly blue ribbons to the floor, which later she did go back and collect again.
“I want to go,” Felix said. “Can we, Henry? Can me and Claudia go outside and do as we please?”
Henry seemed fidgety. “Well…we don’t barely know anyone here. I mean, there could be all sorts of people here. Crazy ones. Killers.”
“We’ll be fine,” Felix persisted.
And Henry let them off.
I laughed. “Well, I was going to read a book indoors, but right now, I think I’d do for a nice swim.”
Henry chuckled at that. “I’ll find something to do. Just don’t drown.”
“Won’t you come with me?”
He shrugged. “I’ll swim with you tomorrow.”
I wondered if he was really still upset about the names. I didn’t want to ask though. I was afraid to. I didn’t want to sever this little bond I was trying so hard to build these last few days.
“I know about Father.”
My eyes shot to his in a fury. “How could you know? Did he tell you anything? Has he written a letter that I haven’t seen?”
“Ingrid, enough with the questions.”
I obeyed him.
Henry shook his head and began getting angry. He looked like he was trying to swallow his fury but he couldn’t. Finally, after a moment of loud breathing and mutters under his breath, he looked at me with a withering glower. “You know,” he shook his head, “you’re not the only one who can see things in others, Ingrid. You’re not better than the rest of us.”
“I—” I stammered. “Of course not.”
“You think Father loves you more. You think I couldn’t tell that he was abandoning us.”
I held my tongue. It never helped anyway.
“Well, you aren’t better, Ingrid. You’re no more important than us. My intuition kept pecking and poking at me from the start, but I waved it off. But then I watched you. I studied you. And you gave it away, Ingrid. I tried not to believe it, but your face gave it away.”
“I’m not good at faking things, Henry. And Father —” my eyes glossed up and I kept blinking to ward off the tears. “Father may come back. Even I don’t know.”
“He won’t. And if he does, than he’ll have used every bit of force to make him do so. He doesn’t love us.”
“He does too, Henry Phoenix.”
“He does not and he’s not coming back!”
“Not coming back?”
I gasped. Claudia stood in the doorway, her finger picking at her lip.
“Claudia, what are you doing?”
“I’m just…come back for my bonnet.”
I could barely hear her. Her voice was like a feather. She didn’t come inside to get her bonnet. She ran off like she was afraid of us.
I went out the door.
I walked alone to the place where I had first met Charlie. It was vacant but the water was inviting. It was more shallow in this area. I had the knowledge of what may lurk underneath these waters, but I also knew that I could not live in this place perhaps for the rest of my life and never feel the taste of the Mississippi on my lips.
I was not an avid swimmer like Henry was, but I could manage all the same. I waded into the water and then onto my back. There I floated and looked up into a blue sky. Full white clouds drifted by weightlessly. I thought about a lot of things, and not just about Henry again. I let him fall away into my mind so I could have a few moments of peace. I thought about better things instead. Happy things. What adventures we were sure to embark on this summer. I thought about a luscious picnic we could have. What funny conversations might go on.
As I let my eyes close I heard a noise and they opened. I changed position off my back and looked around. I was thankful I could tread water easily. Then my eyes caught something not too far away. It was a boy. It was Charlie. He laid on his back in the water and then went under.
He didn’t come up.
“Charlie?” I shouted. I began swimming frantically towards where he was, screaming his name, water swishing past me as my arms took up speed, and finally, I was where he had floated a moment ago. I took a deep breath and went under the water. I could barely see, the water was murky and green and thick. My legs felt a form and without seeing, my arms grasped Charlie’s shirt and I dragged him out of the water and onto the sand.
“Charlie?” I felt his chest. His eyes were closed. “Charlie, answer me if you can hear me!” I rolled him on his side. My heart beat faster than I could bear and I bit my fingers and prayed that he would start breathing.
And he did. And then he started laughing at me.
“Charlie Ferguson, you almost drowned!” I cried. “What foolish thing were you trying to do?”
He wheezed and coughed and then continued laughing. “You was afraid I’d gotten killed, weren’t you?” came out in a slow chortled breath. “Ha, ha—” he pointed at me. “Look at you, all sc-scared like.”
I tightened my fists. “Were you faking?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do, Charlie!”
I felt like I could pass out and almost did when Artie appeared by my side in an instant. I hated when people crept up like cats.
“Artie,” I said breathlessly. “He almost drowned.”
Artie grimaced. “I told you to stop doing that, Charlie!” he yelled in a hard, deep voice I didn’t know he had. “Do you hear me? You’re gonna get yourself killed!”
Charlie was unresponsive.
“Do you hear me? Answer me when I talk to you, Charlie!”
I glanced nervously at Artie, willing him to look at me, but he didn’t. I hoped he wouldn’t do something rash.
Charlie ignored him and then laughed again.
“Charlie,” I cried out fretfully, but my words didn’t reach either boys’ ears.
“You stop that, Charlie! Stop it!”
Charlie kept laughing and kept repeating Artie’s words. “Stop it,” he giggled. “Stop it.”
Artie then did something I didn’t think he was capable of. He slapped Charlie across the face, just as I had done to Felix. Charlie was speechless and stared horrified like he had never before seen such an act.
Charlie immediately scrambled away from him and looked at him painfully, through quivering breaths.
I wanted to cry. I wasn’t angry at Artie this time. But the look on Charlie’s face was something beyond words “Charlie, it’s alright—” he got as far away from me as he could.
“You’re mean,” he said in angry tears. “M-mean,” he kept saying, and he kept stuttering and fumbling over his words, rushed and broken apart. He shook his head and his eyes flitted aimlessly over the sand.
Artie told me to look away. “It’s not your fault, Ingrid,” he said in a low voice. “He does this all the time. He can’t help it.”
“What?” I whisper-cried. “He won’t look at me, as if I were a monster. What did I do? He’s so angry,” I blinked back tears. “I’m sorry,” came out instinctively. “I’m sorry.”
“Annabelle!” Artie hollered at me. He touched my arm and snapped my attention back to him. “You can’t punish yourself all the time, Annabelle. It’s not your fault. You didn’t hit him, I did. And I shouldn’t have done it, I know. But I did. So, it’s not your fault. You just have to ignore him.”
“It’s hard to ignore him,” I said. “You see, when I meet someone special and one of a kind, I work to gain their favor.”
Artie listened but did not say anything.
“And I hate to make people disappointed in me.”
“You don’t have to worry about Charlie being disappointed in you,” Artie objected. “He’ll forget about it.” He sighed and looked down. “You don’t have to please everyone, Annabelle. That’s not what living’s for.”
Felix had said that once.
Charlie buried his face in his arms and sat curled in a ball on the sand. The only thing I saw of his head was his blonde stringy hair. But then he covered his hair with his arms and sobbed. I watched him curiously.
“What will he do?” I asked.
“He’ll probably stay like that for the rest of the afternoon,” Artie said. He helped me up. “It’s not your fault. I don’t know why…” he sighed. “It’s water.”
“Water,” I repeated.
“He has a strange fascination with water. And it’s gonna get him killed one day. He’s almost drowned a hundred times. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’ve had to pry a cup of water from his hands before because he would tilt up his head and try to pour the water up his nose. I told you he’ll hurt himself if he gets the chance.”
I winced and shook my head painfully. “That’s terrible.”
“That’s why Pa left.”
I looked up at Artie slowly. “Your pa. I supposed he and your mother had died.”
“No,” he said loosely, looking back at Charlie who sobbed like a child, his face completely hidden. “Ma died from a fever when Charlie was three or four. When you’re that young, you can’t tell if someone is…different.”
I nodded and looked at my feet. Artie kept his eyes on me. Not many people can do that, look at someone else while telling a painful story. But Artie could. Even when I wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at me.
“When I was near thirteen, and Charlie twelve, that’s when he left. He said he couldn’t do it no more. Couldn’t take care of him. Looking at him was hard, he said. And so he left one night. Left me to care for myself and my brother, alone. He twiddled his fingers. “I’ve gotten used to it.”
“Don’t,” I said. “You don’t have to. We’ll help you. I’ll help you. And I’ll take care of Charlie.” I tried to catch his gaze again. “We’ll always be here, you know.”
Artie wasn’t wearing his straw hat just then. I had scarcely seen him without it. It looked like he had combed his hair. Instead of falling over and hiding his eyes, it was combed away out of his face.
I smiled.
“You can go. I’ll stay with him. I don’t want to leave him alone.”
“Are you sure? I can watch him.”
“He’s not your burden, he’s mine.”
I stepped back. “Alright then. If that’s all he is, a burden.”
“I’m sorry. But I can’t help feeling resentment sometimes,” he said, his voice building up with his feelings, as Henry’s had. “Pa left us because of him. He left me.”
“I’m sorry, but…” I exhaled and rubbed my aching head. “Some things just can’t be helped. Charlie is Charlie. He was born that way. And you should never cause someone to feel ashamed because of who they are. It isn’t fair.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know you are.”
Artie wiped his eyes when I glanced away, but I saw it from the corner of my eye. “It’s hard for you to understand, you being a city girl and all. You’ve probably always had whatever you wanted.” He said it like he knew it wasn’t true.
“You know that isn’t true, Artie Ferguson.”
He shrugged. “Might be.” He looked away coldly. “You have a mother and father coming here. They’ll take care of you. They’ll always be there for you. That’s something that was stripped from me and Charlie. And it isn’t fair. Charlie needs a father. A mother.”
I didn’t tell him that no parents were to come for me. That my mother was dead and my father might have really abandoned us because of his grief. I wanted to. But I couldn’t get the words from my mind to my lips.
So I left the two boys there on the beach and went back into the woods.
No comments:
Post a Comment