River: A Novel (16 page)

 “You know,
hi-ya
!”
I jumped in a circle, karate-chopping at the air. “We used to fake bad karate
all the time. You were the pro, Sensei.” He didn’t often look at me as if I
were nuts, at least not in the last hour, but this was one of those times. I
let my arms drop and sighed for other lives.

 Pulling his
hands through his thick hair, he left them behind his head and smiled at me
with raised eyebrows. After a few moments, his face became serious before he
signed, hair flipping back to frame his face.
Do you think you are ready for tomorrow?

 I
will be, but I want to go through some more phrases.
I hesitated in my reply.
Are you too tired?
He looked exhausted.

 Danny shook
his head
no
. Of course he would be there for me, even dead on his feet.

……………………

It was long
after Dan had left for the night, and I continued to pace the apartment while
worrying, for I had no idea what was in store. I became convinced everyone would
see through my act. Then I would be ostracized—even before they knew I could
speak. I froze mid-step as the notion that I could still chicken out and run
snaked through my thoughts… but, Dan. Danny was counting on me. He wanted me to
stay. I couldn’t leave without him; without at least trying to return him to
his messy apartment and perfected esoteric lifestyle. He deserved to be the
Danny I’d always known, though they weren’t terribly different. Not as opposite
as River Elodie and me. Nanette and Petra deserved to go home, too. Petra
probably hated me, but it was the same as hating a stranger. She didn’t know me
in this world. They all deserved to find their old selves, and maybe their elusive
lost voices.

 As I walked
aimlessly in the darkened apartment, I found myself in front of the CD player
and flipped it on. It was my favorite slow, desperate fugue.

 The music
made me feel calmer, albeit hardly better. With no other choice in the matter, I
had to go through with the next day. If I were caught, I could convince the
Speakers that Danny had nothing to do with my crimes of speech and impersonation.
My head was in my hands at the decision.
Please let me get us through this.

 Needing
something to look at other than the inexplicable scars on my hands, I wandered to
the window. It was an interesting part in the music: a transition to abstract
electric guitar, fuzzy and low. A foreboding note mixed with a slow slide at
the end. I watched the nighttime world through the curtain. Squares and ribbons
of light from the streetlamps were the only illumination in the room. Peeling
the curtain back cautiously, I searched for the moon, which was glowing
somewhere behind the racing clouds.

 The only gauge
that time had passed besides the moon’s trek westward was the music’s end. I
was just about to drop the curtain and pace in time to more music when I saw
him. Stationed in the shadows of a crooked tree was a man. My eyes were
accustomed to the dim light, seeing everything as blocks of various gray, deep
black to almost white and in between. He was staring at me. It was past the
middle of the night, and no souls stirred in the neighborhood. Nor was it
pleasant for an early morning stroll, as the temperature had dipped well below
freezing. He was standing there because of me. I could feel it. Instead of retreating,
I stared back.

 He had to
have known I was no longer looking at the sky, but at him. It was like having a
staring contest with a statue.
Move already
, I thought anxiously,
shifting my weight from foot to foot.
If
he moves, I am not
delusional
. My perception had been a bit warped the last few days, having
been devoid of other human voices—except my furtive whispers to Danny. I was
used to sounds, before; the deluge of white noise. It was as though I hadn’t
noticed voices until they were missing. Indefinable echoes or mumbled complaints,
a cry of sorrow or joy. They were all gone.

 Instinctively,
I did not budge. This was some kind of absurd test. It was as if the enemy had
already found me out and now waited for me to admit I wasn’t the real Elodie,
but the imposter, the thief. Though I was these things, I had to become
her
,
or at least what I imagined she would be like. It wasn’t hard, really. Pampered,
privileged, and famous—she had probably been happy. If I were her, I would be a
little bit too into gossip and what others thought. Much like some of the girls
at The Studio back in New York, she would feel one would have to earn her friendship
and approval. The only problem was that I wasn’t like that. I was a mouse. I
couldn’t look down on people—I was too small. 

 What
do you want?
I signed, becoming my version of
River Elodie. I shot the shadow of a man the best over-the-nose stare I could
muster. Shaking a bit with all the boldness that could fit inside a thimble, I
fisted my hands and refused to back down. I had to fight and win, at all cost.

 The figure jerked
back, as if he’d just gotten a joke and forced himself to stifle a laugh. He
thought I was funny? What the hell was that? This was war, and he thought it
was comedy hour?

 Shaking his
head, the man applauded and bowed with exaggeration before sauntering off.
Well…
that was… odd
. I had attempted intimidation and received condescending
pseudo-approval. It felt weird, as though I had been mocked and given respect
at the same time. Still in shock and a bit vexed, I just wished I’d gotten a
look at his face. Danny’s apartment was four floors up, and the hidden moon did
not give much of a spotlight on any diminutive features. His hair blended with
the night, he was tall in a dark coat, and patronizing. That was all I had to
go on. Frustrated and tired, I let the curtain float down to right itself
against the outside world before walking into the bedroom, abandoning the feud
that had ended with… a dismissal? Forfeit? I wasn’t sure of anything at this
point. He could have been a hallucination. Well, I would just stick to the plan
of being River Elodie, and if the Speakers found me out, so be it. Cranky and
on edge for tomorrow, I decided to lie down and close my eyes; stiff and
anxious, hoping sleep may come eventually.

..................

 I didn’t
expect to dream, since I had no reason to anticipate sleep. 

 The wind
bit at my face, whipping my hair until it thrashed my cheeks. I didn’t feel
anything except cold and confusion. Unable to think, I waited to go back to the
place where I couldn’t feel anything at all, where I didn’t exist.

 Before
this, I’d been winding my way down a narrow dirt path surrounded by dense
forest. It was completely dark beyond a threshold that chilled black and
sinister. The graying purple sky was the only meager source of light. I had to
keep walking, moving, even if I could no longer see.

 Time must have
been traveling backward as my mind shifted forward, to the start of it all, to the
origin of this anomaly. It was all very scientific. In order to start again, I had
to go back. I was crawling my way out of a black hole to behold the universe as
it should be. Particles that had been missing—now made solid.

 There was
always the moon, knowing infinitely more than mere mortals. There was snow and
ice, and a low chuckle bubbling from a spring. There were lights in the distance,
chasing me gladly into the gloom. A steady chirping note was in the background,
impossible to ignore.  There was winter… a wall of steam from melting ice… a
way home.

 When my
legs gave way, I was still running as I hit the water.

 The chase
over, my body was rigid and cold, having lain for such a terribly long time. With
hollowed bones heavy, my idle arms attempted to forage for warmth. Oblivious of
my fruitless efforts, Danny’s voice carried in the background, worn and dry. There
was a cricket keeping me awake. Was it summer already? How could I still be so cold?

 A low buzz
steadily grew louder, until my mind woke from the dream. It had been unbearably
disarming, and I had a hard time coming back to myself. Clawing my way out of a
mountain of white, tangled sheets and pink blankets, I barely cracked my eyes
open as I swung my arm around to hit the top of the alarm on the bedside table.
The dream slowly seeped into the cracks of my consciousness.
Today is the day
I have to be Elodie of River
, I thought as a wave of nervousness engulfed
me. It was going to be impossible
. I could just blow it off
, I mused. Beg
off that I was still sick. Nanette had seen me, however, and she knew I was on
the mend. Exhaling a gush of air, I moaned into a pillow, seeing no way out of
it.  

 It was six
o’clock. Danny would be at the apartment soon to cram with me, to go over last
minute tips and descriptions of people. Not very good with names to begin with,
I knew I would forget them immediately. I would just have to be creative
impersonating myself. Shaking my head at the ridiculous situation, I tried to
get into character. Presumably, River Elodie had a lot of self-confidence
without a lot to worry about. I would just be myself in reverse. I could act. It
was just like performing, only I would have to dance around the tricky parts and
hope no one was the wiser.

 Showered and
caffeinated, I opened the door to Dan with two hours to spare. We had a plan
for the day. He worked in the same building and decided he would just happen to
drop by after a bit to bring me water, or a possible extraction. It would be
extreme luck if I made it fifteen minutes without anyone noticing I was a fraud.
I sighed heavily while Dan asked if I was okay with a concerned look—the usual
start to my days in River.

 “It’s nothing,”
I whispered. Used to the silence, any reverberation of sound other than music
seemed out of place. I wondered again what the Speakers would look like and how
loud they would be to my newly sensitive ears. Dan had written a little about
the performances—there were always Speakers present. Any concerts, dance
performances, or art showings were big nights, with all of River and the Domain
showing up. The fact that Dan and I had missed last week’s concerts and gallery
shows had been newsworthy gossip, apparently. I decided to be on my best
behavior if I wanted to avoid any more scandal. It was best to act
normal
.

 We were
ready to go. I passed on a third cup of coffee, already on edge. My heart was galloping,
and my palms were clammy as Dan handed me my coder and key. He wanted to carry
my bag, but I thought we should seem as though we were just friends, as opposed
to the couple who had made out in the street six days before. It could have been
six years for all that had changed. He wrapped my scarf around my neck, and I
felt like a kid going to a new school for the first time. It was exactly like
that, only infinitely more terrifying.

 When
leaving the building, we nodded at Not George. I wasn’t sure I could force my
body to keep with the extra-slow pace of River, but the theater was close
enough to walk to, and the fresh air did help suppress my panic. Dan’s normally
beautiful skin had undertones of sickly green; he was more worried than he’d
let me see. Pausing in front of a window in a less crowded part of the street,
I leaned into him and breathed assurances through my scarf, hardly audible.

 “I won’t
let you down, Danny. And if I get caught, there’s no way I’ll rat you out.” 

 He shook
his head minutely. Of course he wouldn’t let me take the fall, even if it
killed him.

 Screwing
this up was not an option. I had to protect Dan; he’d suffered enough. We moved
along after that, and I tried to ignore the nervous energy that swallowed me
whole. My jaw was locked while my shoulders were painfully hunched to my ears.

 Focusing on
the colorful windows as a distraction, I noticed a figure flash in the reflection
of a display. It could have been the man out in the street last night. He had
the same stance: mocking. I swung my head around, but no one was there. I
didn’t clue Danny in on my paranoid fantasies—he had enough to deal with.
One
crisis at a time, please,
I begged the universe. There was always the
possibility I was seeing things; my mind was so full that I felt dislocated from
reality. 

 We arrived
at the theater early, to my relief. I still had an opportunity to bolt before
someone saw me. Upon entering, the man in the ticket booth nodded while we
returned the gesture with tight smiles.
Relax
, I told myself, repeating
the mantra,
Keep Dan safe, don’t screw up, be River Elodie.
I
straightened my back and pointed my chin up, adding a jaunt to my gait. Danny
looked at me funny. I immediately hunched back to my usual posture.
Don’t
screw up
.

 Dan led me
through the funhouse mirrors after the entrance, and I knew I would be an idiot
if I ever attempted to find my own way through the maze. Running into a mirror
was the least of my worries as we neared the door to the rehearsal space. In
the empty hall, our thudding footsteps soaked into the industrial carpet. It
was very clean and seemed new. This place was far away from the worn out, sweat
smelling, creaky floors I was used to at The Studio.

 Stopping at
a doorway, Dan turned to face me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He gave
me a look that asked if I was ready to go inside. Bobbing my head uncertainly,
I followed with a more confident nod when it appeared as if he were about to
lead me back out. Though very tempted to run away and hide, I had to get this
over with if I wanted to stay in River, or until I found my way back to possibly-fictional
New York. I shook off the thought that maybe I didn’t know where I belonged and
focused on Dan’s face. He let out a breath and opened the door with one hand;
the other was around my shoulder.