River: A Bad Boy Romance (25 page)

River stares out of the window at the higher tower blocks that still surround them, and the workers inside that he can just about make out, going about their daily lives without a single glance back to him, having grown used to the Ferris wheel and the normally empty carriages, that sits juxtaposed alongside them.

He grips Maddy's hand a little tighter, enjoying the feeling of such a simple gesture.

“This is incredible”, Maddy says, after a while.

“I know, right, what did I tell you?” River says.

“I'm going to get up”, Maddy says, grasping at a new found confidence.

“You think that's a good idea?” River says. “You could wait until-”, but Maddy is already up before he's had a chance to finish his sentence. “-We stop”, River says.

Still holding his hand, she stumbles out into the middle of the carriage, like a child heading out onto a frozen lake, with a brand new pair of ice skates. As she moves, the carriage rocks, so much so that River grips hold of the side. When she feels like she's happy enough, she lets go of his hand, and immediately nearly falls over.

“Easy, Maddy”, River says.

Maddy rights herself, finds her balance and then begins to take in her surroundings, ecstatic that she's challenged herself with something, and not only overcome it, but that she's thoroughly enjoying it too. Riding the carriage is like catching a wave, and it feels incredible to have that sense of weightlessness and freedom.

“Come on, stand up with me”, she says. “It's easy.”

“I figure I might wait until the very top, we're almost there”, River says, looking out of the window at the sky beyond, not entirely convinced he'll be able to hold his balance for long.

“Come on, don't be a wuss”, Maddy says, getting the hang of the motions of the carriage, much quicker than she thought she would. “If I can do it, you can do it too.”

“I don't know Maddy”, River says, not entirely convinced.

“Are you scared?” Maddy says, hands on hips now, confident of her balance.

River gives her a look that could melt lead.

“Well, alright”, River says after a while. “Only if you insist.”

Maddy holds out her hand, and River takes it, making sure he still has a hand to balance himself, firmly grasped onto the window ledge.

“That's it”, Maddy says. “I've got you.”

“I ain't too sure if either of us have got anything”, River says, but lets go of the ledge anyway, ready to take the plunge. He stumbles a little, as Maddy had done before him, but she holds him up, or at least provides a shoulder for him to place his free hand, which stops him from falling. The carriage sways much more than he expected with the movement of the wheel, and much more than he remembers from the time he was here before. There is something exciting about the feeling of riding with the carriage as it moves, that gives River a kind of surprised satisfaction, he hadn't remembered could feel so good.

“It feels like we're flying”, River says, as his body adjusts to the pendulum-like movements, and he is able to let go of Maddy's shoulder.

“I know”, Maddy says, “It's amazing.”

Just as River straightens his back, feeling confident he's conquered the swinging cage, the whole wild beast shudders violently to a halt. On the ground below them, the old man, just about able to see with the one eye yet succumbed to cataracts, pulls the lever again, to bring the mechanism to a dead halt.

River lurches forward, and unable to control his trajectory, tumbles spectacularly into Maddy. Maddy, somehow with her arms open at the very moment River crashes into her, falls backwards and ends up on the floor of the carriage, with River pressed down on top of her, his lips an inch away from hers, their noses touching. When it happens, they both think the carriage itself is falling, having snapped under their combined weight, and there is a nervous few moments before the carriage, still swinging from inertia, begins to slow down, when they expect the beast itself to topple, and the earth to come suddenly spinning towards them from below.

“Fuck”, Maddy says, breathing heavily, her heart pumping so wildly she can feel the pressure of it in her ears.

“That scare you, Princess?” River says calmly, although his own heart pumping tells a different story. “I got you if we fall, I already told you that.”

“I thought we were dead”, Maddy says. “I thought we were really dead. Fuck.”

“You think our story's going to end so suddenly?”

Maddy breathes a huge sigh of relief. Slowly she realises that she's not dead. In fact, apart from not only not being dead, she's also very much alive.

“I'll believe otherwise if you kiss me”, Maddy says eventually.

“I reckon I can just about handle that”, River says.

So with the carriage still wobbling, the metal beast breathing a creaky sigh, like an old man at the end of a long walk, and River and Maddy wrapped in each other's arms, a hundred metres from the earth and still flying, they kiss so passionately, and with so much desire, it's a wonder the energy they produce doesn't kick start the thing back into action again.

When Maddy and River kissed each other for the first time, it was incredible. It was so incredible in fact she didn't think it could ever be topped. Now, pinned down by him, his body pressed so closely into hers it's as if it was meant to be there all along, she buzzes with little bolts of electricity that magically fizz up and down her spine, and her mind feels alive in ways she never imagined were possible.

Being intimate with River is like nothing else she has ever experienced, and it's so addictive, she has no desire for it to ever stop.

“You know we're alone up here, Princess, not even the birds fly this high”, River jokes, his hand having already found its way to the soft, ticklish skin of her torso.

“What about the view?” Maddy says, her head back and her eyes closed, while River kisses her neck.

“It'll wait”, River says, “It has done so far.”

The old man disappears back inside his hut, happy to let the young couple have their fun, while he catches up again on his sleep. In the air above him, Maddy and River's carriage gently sways, while the rest of the egg shaped pods sit silently, motionless in the stillness of the day.

Sally is ostensibly rearranging her window display, while she spies on a couple on the pavement outside the shop, who seem to be having a fairly heated argument. There is a young baby with them, and the woman keeps pushing the pram one way, for the man to try and take it from her and push it another. Eventually, the woman wins out, and the man and the baby go along with whatever she feels like she needs to do.

“You gossiping again, Sal?”

Sally gives a little jump, feeling like she's been caught doing something she shouldn't. It's Hank, having managed to slip into the shop unnoticed, which he seems to have a bad habit of being able to do.

“Hank”, she says, wiping her hands on her tea-towel. “You scared me.”

“I wouldn't have done if you weren't doing something you shouldn't”, Hank says.

“I was checking to see if they were alright”, Sally says. “I thought it could have been trouble.”

“You were gossiping again”, Hank says, reaching over the counter to attempt to get some crumbs from around a cake, only to have the back of his hand slapped by the plastic spoon Sally happens to be carrying in her hand.

“You got some news for me little brother?” Sally says. “She's been all over the box again this afternoon, and every time I see her I'm more convinced that I'm right.”

“Have you run out of lemon meringue pie?” Hank says disappointedly, scanning the display and not finding what he's come for.

“Don't change the subject”, Sally says. “You haven't run the search yet have you? For christ sake, Hank.”

“Don't be like that”, Hank says. “I ran it for you.”

“You did, huh?” Sally says, a little surprised.

“I did”, Hank says, a smug grin developing on her face.

“And are you going to tell me what you found out?” Sally says, eagerly.

“It ain't stolen.”

“What do you mean it ain't stolen?”

“It isn't stolen, as in, it isn't a stolen car”, Hank says, reaching again for cake crumbs, and getting the back of his hand whacked a second time by his big sister's spoon.

“Well whose car is it?”

“It's registered to a River Woods, who works as an accountant at the Glade Juniper Hotel in Albuquerque. All the papers are in order, there aren't any penalty points. Everything is legitimate.”

Sally broods. “I don't get it”, she says. “I'm positive that was the girl. Are you sure someone didn't steal it from this River, and he just hasn't reported it yet?”

“Sal, I can't do anything until I have a crime. At the moment, there isn't a crime.”

“For God sake, Hank”, Sally says. “When is a kidnapping not a crime? Sometimes I wonder how you made it into the police force in the first place.”

Sally takes the phone off the wall.

“You got a number?” she says.

“For what?”

“For this River Woods.”

“You're going to call him?”

“I'm going to try.”

“You can't admit that you might be wrong?” Hank says.

“If I am, I'll hold my hands up and admit it, but neither of us have all the information yet, do we?” Sally says, diplomatically.

“There wasn't anything on the system”, Hank says. “All we know is he works at the Glade Juniper Hotel chain, why don't you call them?”

Sally does just that. While Hank waits impatiently, hoping for a cake to take back to the office, Sally dials the operator and is put through to the reception desk for the Glade Juniper Hotel in Albuquerque. From there, she is transferred from number to number, until she finally finds her way to River Woods's office answering machine, the message of which states:

“I will be on annual leave for two weeks, if your enquiry is urgent, please direct your call to the reception desk, where it will be dealt with accordingly.”

Sally, unsatisfied by that response, calls the reception desk again.

“Can I speak to anyone else in that department?” she asks the police receptionist who picks up her call.

“I'm afraid there is no-one else in that department”, comes the response. “You can leave a message if you'd like.”

“Do you have a cell phone number I can contact him on?”

“I'm afraid we can't give out that information”, the receptionist says.

“Can you give it out to the police”, Sally asks, hopefully.

“I can”, the receptionist says, “if the police come here in person and ask for it with a warrant. Otherwise I'm unable to help you I'm afraid. Like I said, you can leave a message if you'd like. Would you like to leave a message?”

“No”, Sally says, feeling a little beaten. “That's ok. Thank you for your help.”

She puts the phone back on the hook.

“Well?” Hank says, hitching his belt up and tucking in his shirt.

“Annual leave”, Sally says.

“Well that'll explain it then”, Hank says. “He's taking a road trip with his wife. Maybe he's even on his way to Mexico.”He lifts up his eyebrows to express his point, in the way Sally has grown to hate.

“I doubt it”, Sally says.

“I did tell you”, Hank says.

“You didn't tell me anything”, Sally says. “We don't know if he's taken his car at all. For all we know, he's flown somewhere and left his car in the garage, where the bank robber took it from.”

“You've got a vivid imagination”, Hank says, as though it's a bad thing.

“Someone ought to check his home address, just to see if the car is there or not.”

“Well that's out of my jurisdiction I'm afraid, that's for the big boys up in the Albuquerque police department to take care of.”

“I bet that's your favourite phrase isn't it?” Sally says, sarcastically.

“What's that?”

“Out of my jurisdiction”, Sally says, holding up her hands while she does so and mocking her brother theatrically.

“I detect a hint of bitterness”, Hank says. “That aint right for someone that makes such sweet cakes.”

“What do you want then?” Sally says, resigned to it.

“What happened to the lemon meringue?” Hank says, still searching for it.

“Gone”, Sally says.

“Key lime?” Hank asks hopefully.

“Gone”, Sally says.

“What do you have?” Hank asks worriedly, his belly grumbling fiercely all of a sudden.

“What you see is what I've got”, Sally says, pointing it all out with her plastic spoon. “You can have one for each of you, but that's it.”

“Damn Sal, don't be so mean”, Hank says, offended.

“Hurry up and choose before I change my mind”, she says.

Hank picks the sweetest, creamiest, nuttiest looking cakes he can find, and leaves with a huge smile on his face, one for him, one for Thurston, and an extra one just in case.

Sally watches him go, almost tripping up on the pavement in his eagerness to get back to the office, not to work, but to share the spoils. She goes back to rearranging cakes that don't need it, wondering what she can do next to get in touch with her new acquaintance, the hotel accountant turned bank robber with the movie star good looks, River Woods.

A
fter a little more than an hour, the old man wakes from his snooze, as though conducted by some internal alarm clock, makes his way slowly back outside of his hut to the control lever, and with one almighty effort, jolts it back into action. The aged metal groans in response, the cogs turn in the same, effortless way they have done for years, and the Ferris wheel comes spluttering back to life.

He watches the carriage descend slowly, and when it's back where it first began, he triggers the lever once more, and the thing comes to a grinding, coughing halt, every single joint and rivet complaining of some kind of long held ailment.

River and Maddy step back out onto the platform, and the old man helps them one by one, holding their hands just to keep them steady. The carriages move so slowly it's possible to get on and get off them without stopping the machine, but the discerning old man is proud of his service, and he likes to go that little bit further, especially for repeat customers.

When they are back on the grass at the front of the mighty machine, all three of them looking back up to it as though waking from a dream, River reaches into his pocket and pulls out a one hundred dollar bill, which he folds and hands to the man as a tip. The old man pushes River's hand away and refuses to take the money.