Before Wings (19 page)

They were laughing at Nat’s lousy steering, but she got the knack quickly and the canoe headed straight toward the deep. Roberta handed her paddle to Cath, draped both her legs over the prow and took off her nightie, imitating a mermaid figurehead. Then, without warning, Sherry stood mid-canoe and jumped a cannonball off one side. Crying out, Nat leaned forward to balance the rocking canoe, but it tipped, throwing everyone into the water. The heavy frame crashed down on top of the girls, knocking their heads, pulling them under. The canoe quickly filled with water and sank. Three girls surfaced as the first lightning flickered low across the horizon. A storm was building quickly, kicking up waves around them.

Adrien reached the ridge and ran down onto the beach. The girls were crying out, their voices calling to her. How could she reach them? She couldn’t paddle a canoe by herself in a storm.

“Well, if it isn’t little Wood.”

She hadn’t noticed the lone figure sitting on the dock, and slid to a halt as Connor stood and beckoned. “Come to make pax?” he asked. “Come for that canoe ride?”

So the midnight campfires were a complete bust and the waterfront coordinator was out here, sulking in the rain. She hesitated, then stepped onto the dock. Connor was always a reason to walk the other way, but she had to get closer to the girls, see their last moments. If she couldn’t bear witness to the very end, everything would be in vain. She would fail the girls and their spirits, and the reason they had sent her their dreams would be lost. She was part of this, she knew that. But how? And why?

“I was just heading out.” Connor’s wet hair was plastered to his head.

“In the rain?”

“I’m an excellent canoeist.” His face remained expressionless and he stood as he had before, one hand stretched toward her. Again, lightning flickered across the lake, thunder rumbled, waves rose and crashed. The girls’ cries were growing faint. What choice did she have? She had to hurry. Already, two were gone.

“Okay.” She began to walk toward Connor.

The night woke up. There was the slam of the master cabin door and the sound of Aunt Erin’s voice calling Adrien’s name as she came running across the lawn, yellow jacket flapping.

Connor hadn’t seen the camp director yet. He stepped into the canoe. “C’mon, Angel.”

“Adrien,” she said automatically, staring out at the lake.

“No!” called her aunt’s faraway voice. “Not her too. You can’t have her too.”

Farther out, beyond the drowning girls, the spirits were coming awake. Rising half out of the water, their arms reached toward Aunt Erin in a pleading gesture.

“All right,” screamed Aunt Erin, bending forward. “I let you go. I set you free.”

The spirits lifted, unfolding from their dreams, and as they rose from the water a pair of wings spread out from each one of them, huge with strength.
Dreaming for two decades
, Adrien thought, staring in wonder.
Aunt Erin’s finally let go of them and now they can fly—toward what?

The loud whine of a dirt bike broke into her consciousness. She turned to see Paul riding at full speed through the rain, passing Aunt Erin as he headed straight for the ridge.

Only two girls were still alive, treading water in the storm. As they reached for each other, a bolt of lightning forked gracefully above them, its tiny fingers skipping down to touch the water’s surface. Without a sound, the girls disappeared beneath the waves
and the five spirits lifted free, wings flickering wildly. At the same moment, Paul crested the ridge, pulling his bike into a high arc. Instinctively, Adrien knew that he must have woken from a dream of her and Connor on the dock, that he had come to save her. The bike’s arc was perfect—it would have carried Paul to the edge of the dock where he could have cut Connor off easily, but then a hard shove from behind sent Adrien reeling forward. Helpless, she stumbled directly into the bike’s path, forcing Paul to kick free midair, the movement twisting and upending his body. The bike crashed heavily into the water and Paul began to fall
headfirst toward the dock.

The spirits were a line of light flowing faster than thought toward shore. Adrien reached toward them, begging, and the first one entered her, passing through every molecule, traveling every blood vessel, lifting upward into her brain. The next spirit came into her, and the next. She heard each one singing in a clear girl’s voice, each spirit
was
voice, the spirits a river of song touching her through and through. The girls had been joy, and so were their spirits. Death hadn’t changed this.

Adrien lifted her arms toward Paul, sending the spirits upward into him. They passed through his body, their giant wings outstretched, catching and cradling him, slowing his fall as they sent their pulse of joy deep into the fibers of his being. Leaving him, they flew on toward Aunt Erin, outlining her five times with their wings. Then a place opened in the air, so vivid with leaping colors that Adrien cried out in astonishment. Hands reached from there to here, the five spirits passed through, the place closed itself to human eyes, and was gone.

Paul was still falling, slowed by the spirits’ passage and the wings of hope that flickered on his back. Thinking to catch him on her shoulder, Adrien stepped forward. He landed, she stumbled beneath his weight, and there was nothing to catch her as she fell, carrying him, to the dock.

fifteen

She could feel someone breathing on her lips and opened heavy eyes to see Paul’s face hovering just above her own. “Adrien,” he whispered. She tried to lift her hand to touch his mouth, but it wouldn’t move. Her arm was strapped to her chest. Then she noticed one of Paul’s arms was also wrapped in a sling. “You’ve been sleeping for hours,” he said. “We’re in the hospital. You dislocated your shoulder and broke your collarbone. I broke two ribs and dislocated my shoulder too, but we’re alive. I’m alive, you’re alive.”

“Happy birthday.” Relief made her giddy, lifted her high above the white hospital room. He kissed her nose and she came back down.

“You saved me,” he said quietly. “I would’ve landed
on my head.”

“Well, I knew you were coming to save me.” Adrien tried to joke, but her voice wobbled. “Besides, I like your head.”

“But with your aneurysm—it could’ve set something off, couldn’t it?”

“It was your birthday, but you still got out of bed to come rescue me.”

“I woke up around quarter to one and I kept seeing Connor’s face,” Paul said tiredly. “His ugly face, and something about the dock. I didn’t like his eyes—nothing there, no feeling. I just knew you were there.”

“The girls were out on the lake. I could see them drowning. Connor said he’d take me for a canoe ride. I thought I could get closer.”

“He shoved you, didn’t he? I thought I had a clear landing, but then you were there, stumbling like you’d been pushed.”

“Yeah,” said Adrien slowly.

“He took off last night,” said Paul. “Guy told me all his stuff was packed and gone this morning. Must’ve cleared out while everyone was out there watching the ambulance pick us up.” His voice broke and he started kissing her. She closed her eyes and followed his warm soft lips across her face, trying to catch them with her mouth. She wanted to kiss his mouth forever.

“Would you look at that!” Guy’s cheerful voice declared from the doorway. “They’re both in straightjackets and they’re still going at it!”

Paul straightened quickly, and Adrien saw Guy and Aunt Erin enter the room, followed by her parents.

“Supposed to be in bed, Paul,” Aunt Erin scolded with a smile, but Adrien’s father was frowning and clearing his throat. Then Adrien noticed Paul wasn’t wearing a pajama top because of his bulky arm support. That would be more than enough to set her father off, not to mention the kissing.

“Get you sitting up,” Aunt Erin said quickly, adjusting the bed. “Guy, take that boy back to his room.”

Paul gave Adrien one last grin before leaving. Then her mother was leaning over her, patting her hair, whispering and kissing her. “I’m fine, Mom,” Adrien said, but without her old impatience. She would have reached for her mother, but her right arm was strapped to her chest and the left gave off pains whenever she moved.

“You’re lucky,” her father said gruffly, tucking the blankets around her. “Out running around in the rain. Going out in canoes at night. That boy in here when you should be resting.”

“Shh, Greg. She’s not ten anymore,” said her mother.

“That boy almost caused the death of her!”

“No,” protested Adrien. “He saved me. He knew I was in trouble and he was coming to save me. He has a sixth sense, Dad.”

“Paul’s a boy of honor,” Aunt Erin said firmly. “You need a reference, I’d put my life in his hands.”

Adrien’s father grumbled his way toward a chair and sat down heavily. Her mother and Aunt Erin pulled up two more chairs. Everyone perched on the edge of a nervous silence. Taking a deep breath, Adrien faced the half-circle of adults around her bed. “So, when can I go back to camp?” she asked. Watching her parents’ faces fall, she knew she
was in for a fight. “I can still do my job,” she said quickly. “I only need one hand to work in Tuck’n Tack. Paul’s the one out of a job.”

Aunt Erin cracked a thin smile. “Put him in Tuck’n Tack with you. Be your other hand.”

Adrien burst into a laugh but was silenced by her parents’ expressions. Her father cleared his throat. “You’re coming home with us. Doctor McKeown wants to keep you in for observation another day or so, to see if this has affected your brain. Then we’ll drive you home.”

“It’s just my shoulder, Dad!” Adrien wailed. “My blood vessels are fine.”

“Doctor’s orders,” her father said firmly.

“But I want to go back to camp.” The tears were sudden and shattering. “Mom? Please? I’m different there. I like being me when I’m there.”

Her mother swallowed hard, then looked at her sister-in-law. “Are any of the guest cabins free?”

“Stay with me,” Aunt Erin said immediately. “You get the bed, I get the couch.”

“And I stay in my cabin?” Adrien pleaded. “I won’t do anything strenuous, I promise. You can even come into Tuck’n Tack and watch me work. I’ll sit in your lap.” She watched her father melt. “Daddy, please? I’m happy there.”

He blinked ferociously. “All that kissing. Very strenuous.”

“We don’t kiss much,” Adrien said. “I just woke up and he was happy I was all right.”

Another loud throat clearing erupted. “Yes, I noticed that.”

How could she convince him she needed to be at camp?
She had to dig deeper into the truth. Maybe he could meet her there.

“I had a dream,” she began, “just before I woke up. I could see my body. It was dead and the eyes were open. They were blue like they’re supposed to be, and they didn’t blink or move. There was no breath, no heartbeat. The mouth wasn’t smiling, it wasn’t crying, it was just ended. I touched the face and it was cold. The skin was sort of gray and hard to move. Like rubber, I guess.”

The three adults breathed as if air was slow raw pain.

“And then I saw my spirit,” Adrien said, “floating just above my body. I reached out and touched it. It felt ... like the sound of a thousand singing bells. Happy bells—the high tinkling ones and the low booming ones. Full of triumph. It felt like laughter.”

Her mother was leaning forward, her mouth open as if she wanted to swallow Adrien’s words and take them deep into herself. Their eyes met, completely open doors.

“Mom,” Adrien whispered.

Her mother nodded, then looked at Aunt Erin. “We’ll stay with you, Erin. Thanks for your offer.”

“I dunno,” began her father.

“We’ll stay with Erin,” her mother repeated firmly.

Paul was released that evening while she was asleep, but she talked to him on the phone the next morning. It was a long wait until Saturday when the short round doctor that had been shining lights in her eyes and ordering brain scans agreed to let her out. “Make sure she takes it easy,”
he admonished, “but happiness is the best medicine. This is a happy camper you’ve got here.”

The drive back to camp was quiet. Adrien floated on a peace that was heavy like dreaming, peace that dreamed like water. When they pulled into the parking lot, it was early evening. The first week of campers had gone home that afternoon and the grounds were quiet. She called Paul and he said his mother would drive him over to see her in the morning.

“You still dreaming?” she asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m dreaming,” he said slowly.

“Not about dying?”

“It’s kind of X-rated, these days. Don’t tell your dad.”

“I don’t tell Dad about
those
kinds of dreams.”

“I hope they’re about me,” said Paul.

“Uh-huh,” mumbled Adrien. Blushing on the phone—how embarrassing. “So you have to dream about me too, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” said Paul.

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart, hope to—” He paused, then added, “Live.”

Adrien kissed her parents good night and let them hold her the way they needed to. Years passed between them, two years of pain and fear, wrapped in love, finally understood. Then she gave her aunt a one-arm hug.

“Hey,” Adrien asked softly. “Did the spirits say anything to you when they passed through?”

Her aunt let out a quick groan of air. “Something I’ve
been waiting to hear for a long time.”

“Music?” asked Adrien. “Singing?”

Her aunt’s eyes brimmed with tears. “They used to sing like that all the time.”

“They still are,” said Adrien. “Did you know you’ve got wings on your back?”

“What?” Aunt Erin gave her a confused look.

“Dream wings,” said Adrien. “They suit you.”

Darcie tucked her into bed, full of advice on how to sleep with a broken collarbone. Except for the two of them, the cabin was empty. Other staff were using the free evening to visit family and friends.

“But not me!” said Darcie. “Oh no—I had to welcome my best bud back. It’s been boring here without you, Grouch. No one complaining, pointing out all my problems, rebelling over the tiniest itsy-bitsy thing.”