River: A Novel (12 page)

First one was in
the arm, then my
jaw. That one hurt, until—you know
. 

  
He dramatically tapped his scruffy
cheek, full grin in place.

 “I’m sorry,
but I don’t remember any of this,” I waved the paper in the air, trying to make
the kissing aspect of the conversation become forgotten. “I must’ve been
sleepwalking.” After reading it again, the strange feeling of déjà vu returned.
“You wrote that I signed… perfectly?”  He nodded, calculating, trying to figure
me out. Well, I was doing the same. 

 “I don’t
understand. How could I sign in my sleep if I can barely do it coherently awake?” 
Danny just shrugged. He could see that I wasn’t going to give up the paper he
had written on, and I did want to decipher it some more. Something about
falling was familiar to me, like an impression or a glance, something in my
residual memory that I needed to dig up, along with the rest of my possible past.
I froze with the paper tightly fisted in my hands.
The dreams.

 Another
piece of paper was placed on top of the old, breaking my concentration. I
didn’t even hear Danny get out of his chair to stand behind me.  

Maybe when you
sleep, something happens in your brain that triggers memories, but that still
doesn’t explain why you can speak. Or
why
you
hit me.

 Though
still facing the table, I was completely certain he was smiling ear to ear
because of that last line. 

 “Danny, I’m
sorry I hit you. Really. But I don’t
know
why
I can speak here. I’m
just as clueless here as you are—” My agitated words broke off as he placed his
hands around my arms, and then slowly trailed them down to my wrists. I stopped
stressing out about the possibilities of the scene that occurred while I’d slept,
and thought instead of what I was going to do next… what Danny was going to do
next.

 He moved
his hands over mine and peeled my fingers from the pages I clutched, taking
them from me. After he turned me around to face him,
picking
the
chair
up
, he knelt in front of me. I was vaguely impressed by how strong this
Danny was, but that was my smallest thought. His right arm covered my side while
he held my upper back, pulling me from my slouched position.

 “I kissed
you on the cheek when I was sleepwalking,” I whispered, telling myself again. He
nodded, but there was intent in his eyes.

 “Dan, I
don’t—” He really wasn’t listening as he silenced my unnoticed objections.

 For a
moment, I gave in. I was weak. I’ll admit it. 

 After a few
seconds, the shock and rush of the kiss turned to panic. How could I reject the
only person in the world who had my back? Did I want to reject him? He was
always kind and forgiving. I could be myself around Danny and tell him what I
was feeling without fear of judgment. Dan was magnanimous with everybody,
whether they deserved it or not. And he deserved honesty. If this went any further,
I would be lying to him—and to myself. My hands were against his chest, so it was
easy to use that leverage to push my body away slightly, giving me a little room
from him, and a way out of this confusing mess.

 “Danny, um,
I don’t think I can… right now.” I heard my small voice shake with guilt and
uncertainty. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him in any way. Why couldn’t I
just feel the same way he did? Even if it was only a transient feeling, it
would’ve made things much easier. Well, possibly. Life had turned into
something unrecognizable. I didn’t know who I was; let alone who Danny thought
I was. 

 “I hope you
can understand. This is a fantasy world to me, and I’m not sure if I’m real, or
how I even feel minute to minute.” I tried to explain my rambling thought process
for him as best I could, though was unable to get it out that I didn’t think I
could feel anything but friendship for him. That would’ve been too much for
either of us at that moment. 

 He just
pulled me closer. 

    S-O-R-R-Y.

 “No, it’s
my fault. I just don’t know who or where I am anymore. It’s just so scary.” Whispering,
I looked up from his chest, feeling horrible and trying to prevent the tears
that had begun to form. “Please, please forgive me, Dan. I don’t know what I
would do if you weren’t here. I’d probably be locked up in whatever they have
for jails, or I’d be toast from a Speaker’s Taser, literally—an overdone
tater-tot.” I sniffed into his shirt. “Do they even have those here?” To my
relief, he shook with laughter. 

 He pried us
apart slowly, with the heartbreaking smile I’d grown accustomed to, and looked
to the side for a second
.
Practice?

 That was
one sign I definitely knew. I sighed and nodded. He was still my best friend. In
the back of my mind, I had always been afraid something would happen between
the two of us and unrequited infatuation. In New York, I had been very careful
to keep a “just friends” distance. It was easier there; he’d had plenty of
distractions. Here, things were different. I believed this Danny was incredibly
lonesome.  

 I had to
put this incident on the backburner. My whole future existence was dependent on
my ability to learn a new language fluently and within hours. Trying to relax
and clear my head of everything but signing, I got to work. Dan changed tactics
on me. He wanted me to initiate the conversations; to ask questions and make
little comments about weather and music. Every now and then, I would get it
right, but not often enough. He would throw in something I didn’t know at all
just to see what I would do, which was usually ask him to his intense disappointment,
“Well, what the hell does
that
mean?” 

 Another night
and day went by, and I was getting the hang of it. It was easy to forget what I
was doing and where I was when immersed in signing. I couldn’t fit anything
else into my brain except for the signed phrases. It was similar to forcing an
encyclopedia of knowledge into my memory reserves, and I just hoped that they
would hold out. Having no idea if I had any improvisational skills, I had a
feeling that was precisely what was on the agenda in less than forty-eight
hours.

 Nine cups
of coffee later, I was wired and anxious. Dan had gone to sleep, and I paced
around the apartment while practicing phrases.

 There were
infinite possibilities for questions, and I had tried to make Danny give me a
wide range of vocabulary; the more ten-cent signs I could use, the better to
steer strangers into complacency. It felt as though I was gearing up for a
performance, and the dress rehearsal was tomorrow when I would venture to River
Elodie’s apartment by myself. 

 Dan wanted
to come with me, of course, but I was being insistent. If anyone saw us
together, there would be more questions, ones I didn’t want to give reason for
asking. He would give me directions, I would sign to the doorman that I’d lost
my key when I was sick, and hopefully the plan would go without a hitch. 

 Between all
the coffee and stressing out, the fourth night of my stay in River was another
sleepless one, but I was relieved my friend was going to get some rest. Dan had
had about as much sleep as me, though his patience never wavered. He was much
stronger here in more ways than just the physical. When he’d signed he was tired
and going to go to bed, I’d actually understood him. My enthused, “
Yes! I
got it!”
was followed by clapping a high five, and then a hug that had lasted
a little longer than a normal congratulatory hug would be.

 “
Thanks,
Dan
,” I’d said into his chest.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do this
without you, ya know.”

 He’d humbly
shrugged after letting me go with a flourished bow. 

 Laughing, I’d
signed,
Good
night Dan, and thanks again
.
His name in sign looked like a music
note.

 He had then
tipped an imaginary hat and walked sluggishly to his bedroom. I had told him
earlier to sleep in his own bed; I would be up late anyway, if not all night. The
Lulling was less effective the more coffee I drank, and I had been pretty much
main-lining it. My eyes were swollen and burned slightly, but I was still
buzzed and geared up to practice. Dan had put music on during our lessons
earlier, and in my dancer’s brain, signing became more like choreography,
making it much less daunting to memorize. 

 Ready to
work, I turned the music low and shut off almost all the lights. I didn’t want
to wake Dan up. He was the type of person who would come back out to help me if
he thought I needed it, even though he’d been leaning sideways from sleep
deprivation. Most surprising was how good I felt. Coffee spiked with adrenaline
and secret substances was a great motivator, almost as good as the firing squad
awaiting me.

 While concentrating
on the music and signing, my mind began to wander back to my dreams in the
little bit of sleep I‘d gotten the past few days. I only remembered vague
snippets, and the parking lot was definitely the most terrifying of them all.
In that one I could actually feel the scream building as I came closer to the
fence, only to be silent and meaningless when the air whooshed out of me. Shaking
my head, I tried to think of something less horrific. The words Dan had written
yesterday after I’d woken up in his arms came back to me… I had signed
perfectly that someone was “after” me because of what had happened with Petra.

 I must have
been in the midst of dreaming about the parking lot or just before. Sometimes
the locations became mixed up and circular; timed events happened all at once. Snapping
out of reverie, I found myself standing by the window. My hand had pulled the
curtain over, opening to the night. The music still played; slide guitar mixed
with acoustic bass and other unidentifiable instruments. It sounded unearthly,
almost alien. These were all Dan’s mixes—he could play anything, but this piece
was exceptional. Closing my eyes for one particular part, my eyelashes grew cold
and wet before opening them to try to end the tears. I was having a bad moment.
The events of the past days crashed down on me, and I was feeling utterly
alone, even with Danny the Godsend in the next room.

 The tree
branches blurred as my breathing hitched with little sobs. I vacillated on giving
myself up. Danny already had it hard enough without having to deal with me, and
look where my friendship had gotten Petra—she must absolutely hate me here. After
all, I was possibly related to the doctor who made human voices disappear. As I
stared blankly through the glass in front of me, a shadow began to resemble the
outline of an elbow, and then form an arm. My gaze followed the line of a leg turning
into a foot. I let go of the curtain, and it folded back over the outside
world. It was just a shadow cast from a street lamp. I was certain.

Good
morning, did you sleep well?

 Dan did a
little clap after my nearly precise inquiry
.
Very well
,
he replied with a smoothness I would
never have if I signed forever, followed by something about pancakes. 

 “Yes, please,”
I said enthusiastically, punctuated by a wince. I wasn’t supposed to be
talking. 

 Deciding to
grab another jolt, I bounced over to pour my umpteenth cup of coffee, addictive
personality shining through.

 How many is that?
 

 I guessed
that was what Dan asked, after he’d pointed to the coffee pot in my hand with a
concerned look on his face.

 Concentrating,
I thought this would be good practice with numbers and times. Like a toddler, I
was really only good through ten
.
Five since midnight.
 

 I was a
beat late at the end
.
The gesture for “midnight”
was flicking
your wrists up and down at the same time as pointing each index finger. I
shrugged. Not a record for me. I was hardly buzzed from the caffeine.

 Feeling the
need to protect my health, apparently, he signed something like:
That’s
not good
,
followed by:
You
need food
,
before proceeding to retrieve pots and pans. My mouth was already
watering. 

 While I
shoveled down a thick stack of buttermilk with pats of butter and real, dense
maple syrup, he pushed a glass of water in front of me and wrote with his head
bent over the paper. After licking my plate clean, I read his lecture.

Elodie, you have
to cut back on the coffee. It’s not just caffeine—the anti-Lull has stimulants
as well, and the human body can only take so much. All the extra endorphins and
adrenaline are going to start messing with more than your ability to sleep. The
endocrine and nervous systems affected are going to rebel at some point, and
you could damage your heart. Something like this in excess will eventually become
immunity and therefore less effective against
the Lulling.
I’m
cutting
you off
.
You need some sleep
anyway
.