The River's Edge (4 page)

Chapter Two

Goodbye

THE NEXT MORNING after breakfast, it was time
to say goodbye to Mom. My bruises reared up and punched harder against my
stomach. I had a hard time keeping breakfast down.

We gathered by the car. Mom hugged Uncle Butch first. “Take care
of her. She’s the only thing I have left.”

That was the first time I ever heard her say anything that might
even remotely suggest that maybe Dad was never coming back to us. It scared me
because her hope that he was coming back was the only thing keeping her going.

After she hugged everyone else she walked over to me.

“Bye, honey, have a good time.” She kissed the top of my head.
“And promise to call me every Saturday, okay?”

“I promise.”

As she wrapped her arms around me, I couldn’t help thinking about
my dad, and how I never got to say goodbye to him. I couldn’t hold back the
huge wave of emotion that was storming inside of me. The pain squeezed up
through my chest and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed from my
eyes. I wondered if she was ever going to come back for me or if this was our
last goodbye, too.

I hugged her and whispered, “Please don’t leave.”

Her eyes filled with sadness, and, in that moment, she was someone
other than my mother. “I have to, baby girl. I have to take care of some
business back home.”

“Then take me back with you. I can help.”

“If there was any other way, I’d take it. Besides, I’m just a
phone call away.”

That was true, but not true at the same time. She was one phone
call, two states, and eight hours away.

“Be brave.”

I would do anything for my mom, so when she said that, I wiped
away my tears and looked her right in the eye so she would understand. I
would
be brave for her. It was an unspoken promise. I smiled my sad smile at her and
she smiled her sad smile back at me.

As she drove away, I watched until she blurred at the edges as if
she was disappearing into another dimension. I sat quietly on the couch for a
long time, trying not to throw up. Uncle Butch went to work as soon as my mom
left and my aunt and cousins busied themselves, leaving me alone to sulk by
myself. I rubbed the smooth surface of the penny Mom gave me, trying to hold on
to the only thing I had left of her.

After a few hours, my aunt made lunch and insisted I eat
something. I sat down next to Wendy at the kitchen table and poured a glass of
milk. Then I forced a peanut butter and jelly sandwich down my throat, which
was hard because it still felt like it was squeezed shut.

I sulked on the couch and when my aunt noticed she came over and
sat down next to me. She put her arm on my shoulder. “It will all work out.
Promise.”

I disagreed. It didn’t seem like anything was going to work out. I
pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

“Honey, I know you’re sad, but you can’t mope around all summer.”

BUT I DID mope around. I moped around All Day, even though my
cousins tried repeatedly to get me off of the couch and in a better mood. I
started to understand the sadness that my mother just couldn’t shake. I was
beginning to wonder if I was going to end up just like her, and I was scared.

Uncle Butch came home, and I was forced to eat dinner and pretend
to feel alive, but I just went through the motions to appear normal.

After dinner, I asked if I could take a shower.

“Sure, go ahead, but you better get used to
quick showers. The water only stays warm for a couple of minutes,” Aunt Lori
said.

I went through the kitchen, which lead to a hallway where the
shower and bathroom were. I walked into the shower stall and undressed. I
reached my hand out to hang my clothes on the hook. The shower stall was so
small that I could touch the sides with my hands outstretched and still have a
bend in my elbows. I was thankful for the running water, although the stream
was just a sputter. Raising my face to the showerhead, I let the water wash
away the day’s grime. The tepid water quickly gave way to cold, matching my
mood.

I rubbed my eyes and reached for the towel. My fingers felt the
bar where the towel should have been, but it was empty.

I stood dripping and cold, so I yelled out, “Um . . . can I get a
towel please?”

“Here you go.” Uncle Butch pushed a towel toward me. His
silhouette behind the frosted white shower curtain looked like a bear lumbering
before me.

“Your Aunt Lori wanted to make sure you had a clean, dry towel.”

Blinking away soap, I reached out and grabbed it. “Thanks.”

The rest of the night was quiet, and I couldn’t see a thing when I
went to the bathroom. When I got back into bed, I pulled the covers over my
head to feel safe, just like when I was little. My heart ached for my mother
and I cried softly into my pillow until I fell asleep.

Chapter Three

Crazy
Mary

THE NEXT MORNING I lay in bed waiting for my cousins to wake up.
They slept in the bunk beds across from me. The sun ripped through the
curtains, creating broken shadows in the room.

It reminded me of the dream I had last night. I dreamt of running
with the wind at my back. I swayed with the wind, dancing with the invisible
breeze. Then it turned dark and the grass was no longer green but brown and
dying. I felt its invisible strength as huge rushing shadows appeared across
the field and began chasing me. I was running and running but I was staying in
one place. I couldn’t get away from the unseen thing chasing me.

I shuddered. Even though it was summer, I was cold. I wasn’t
usually cold. But it wasn’t just the weather; it was the weather on top of
everything else. On top of me being here.

I listened as my aunt drifted out of her bedroom and into the
kitchen, where she started breakfast. A pan scraped against the burner and then
I heard the clicking of the gas stove lighting. A few minutes later, the smell
of bacon filled the cottage.

Aunt Lori served me breakfast while Uncle Butch was just finishing
up. He was eating with his fingers, picking up his bacon and dipping it into
the yolk of his egg with one hand while holding the newspaper with the other.
He picked up his “World’s Best Dad” mug and slurped his coffee, making the
liquid gurgle between his lips.

“Are you going to work today, Daddy?” Paige asked. She was still
small enough to climb into his lap and get a hug.

“It’s not summer vacation for me, sweetie.” He lowered the
newspaper from his face and unfolded Paige from his lap. He rose from the table
and kissed her on the top of her head.

After he left, Wendy flopped on the couch next to me. “What do you
want to do now?”

“Let’s watch TV.”

Wendy laughed. “We don’t have a TV here because we can’t get any
reception. We don’t have any phone lines either.”

My aunt came into the room with folded laundry in her hands.

“How am I supposed to call my mom every Saturday?” I asked,
panicking.

“We have a phone at the house in Mount Adams, sweetie. I’ll make
sure you can call your mom on Saturdays,” Aunt Lori said.

I felt a little better but there was still nothing to do. Wendy
sensed my boredom.

“Let’s go to the playground,” Wendy said.

“Wendy, take your sister with you.”

“Oh, Mom.”

“You hardly have to watch her. Just let her tag along.”

I didn’t mind her hanging around, but it sure did bother Wendy.

We walked to the playground with Paige
straggling behind us.

“Wait up, guys, wait for me,” Paige said, trying to catch up.

Wendy snickered and started walking faster.

“No fair! I can’t walk that fast,” Paige said.

Wendy giggled, continuing her sprint to the playground.

When we got there, Paige went to the sand box while we took charge
of the swings.

Next to the swings was a large pool surrounded by a chain link
fence and next to that were two tennis courts, also fenced in. A large grassy
field separated the two. We could see the pavilion on the other side of the
field. A lawnmower roared in the distance and I smelled fresh cut grass. I
loved that smell. It reminded me of home, of my dad cutting our own grass.
After he was done, I would help him rake up the clippings and put them into
bags. The smell made me realize how much I missed him. How much I missed my
mom, too.

“Hey, look, it’s New Girl and Wendy.” Julie walked to the side of
the swings and stopped just short of me hitting her upside her face with my
feet, startling me.

“Hey, Julie. What’s up?” I said.

“Going to the river. Want to come?”

“No, can’t. Got to watch my sister,” Wendy said.

“Where’s your entourage?” I asked with more sarcasm than I
intended.

“New Girl, you’re trying to be cool, but it’s not working. My
entourage is already at the river, waiting for me. So, do you want to come or
not?”

“We have to watch Paige.”

“No,
she
has to watch Paige. You could come to the river
with me if you wanted.” Julie crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me.

I thought about it. About when Julie looked at me after my swim,
it made me feel excited and scared at the same time. But I couldn’t leave Wendy
and Paige behind. I’m sure she put me in this tight spot on purpose. “Well, if
Wendy has to watch Paige, then I have to watch Paige too. I’m her company.”

“No you don’t, New Girl. Wendy has it covered,
don’t you Wendy?”

“Well, yeah,” Wendy said.

Julie moved closer to me. I could smell her citrus shampoo as her
hair fell forward around her face. “See, Wendy has it covered, so get off the
swing and follow me to the river.”

“No,” I said louder than I intended.

Julie looked at me wide-eyed. I could tell this was not a word she
heard often. “What?”

When she looked at me she made me want to sing
and yell at the same time. I was conflicted. Wendy looked at me with the
biggest smile so I knew what I had to do. I had to stick up for Wendy, so I
corralled all my courage. “Well, it’s like this. Blood is thicker than water
and I want to stay here with my cousins.”

“Okay, suit yourself. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” She
turned on her heels and was off toward the river, her long hair glowing in the
sun.

“What was that about?” Wendy asked.

“That was another challenge I think.”

“Did you pass?” Wendy asked.

“I don’t think so. I think I just made her mad.”

“Well, thanks for staying with us,” Wendy said, swaying on the
swing with her feet on the ground.

“No problem. Like I said, blood is thicker than water.”

“Come on, I’ll show you a haunted house,” Wendy said.

Paige jumped out of the sandbox and ran up to us. “Wait up, guys,
wait for me. I want to come.”

We followed the road to the entrance of the camp, passing through
tall pine trees. Paige tried to keep up but mostly fumbled behind.

On the edge of the neighborhood, an old house stood tall on a
hill, an aging queen overlooking her domain.

As we reached the house, Wendy pointed and whispered, “That’s
Crazy Mary’s place.”

We were standing on the dirt road in front the house just yards
away, scared to go near it.

I was sure the house had a view of the river and the entire camp
from the third story window. It reminded me of a haunted house in a horror
movie. All that was missing was the spooky music. The white paint was peeling
and the steps led to a decaying wrap-around porch. In front of the porch were
wild bushes laced with spider webs. In the front yard was a huge weeping willow
with its branches touching the ground. Cement containers made for flowers were
overflowing with weeds. The screen door was cracked open, squeaking when the
wind blew it back and forth. Black shutters were on either side of the windows,
some a little off kilter. Cats sunned themselves around the house and bowls of
cat food and water littered the porch.

“She’s the only one who lives here year round
anymore and owns all that land over there.” Wendy pointed to an open field.

Tall grass danced in the breeze. It seemed to me that the grass
could be the hair on a giant’s head peeking up from below the earth.

“I heard she killed her husband and inherited this place. No one
ever sees her and there’s a rumor that she only comes out at night.”

Mystery hung in the air.

“There are so many cats,” I said.

“Keep your eyes open for Crazy Mary,” Wendy warned.

“Why?” I kept my attention on the cats.

“She hates kids, and she doesn’t like visitors, either.”

I walked to the steps and reached out to pet an orange cat. Wendy
stayed on the road, watching me closely, while Paige followed me. “Well, we’re
not visiting her; we’re visiting the cats, right, Paige?”

“Yep,” Paige said.

“That’s just a technicality,” Wendy said. “I’m not visiting the
cats,
you guys
are. I don’t want to have anything to do with it,
especially with Crazy Mary.”

“What’s her story anyway? Do you think she really killed her
husband?”

“I don’t know. That’s what people say. Why else would she be such
a loner?”

“She can’t be all bad, if she’s feeding all these cats,” I said.
“I don’t trust people who don’t like animals. You can tell a lot about people
by the way they treat animals.”

“I didn’t say she murdered her
cats
.”

A cat brushed up against my leg and I jumped. I could tell it was
a kitten as a tiny flash of black disappeared under the porch. A minute later
another cat jumped up on the railing of the porch and meowed at us.

“Look at that pretty black-and-white one,” I said. I walked slowly
up the steps toward it. As soon as I got close enough to touch it, the cat
jumped back down and disappeared under the porch.

“Looks like it doesn’t like you,” Wendy said.

“Here kitty, kitty.” I looked as hard as I
could under the porch, but it was too dark and all I could see were two pairs
of gleaming eyes. A tiny meow came from deep beneath the house.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Paige said, following me around.

“Come on. Let’s go,” Wendy said nervously.

“It’s okay. I want to see the cats.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“I’m just going to . . .” I heard a ping against a window, scaring
me silly, and we ran back to where Wendy was standing on the dirt road in front
of the house. Then we heard another ping and looked at each other in disbelief.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We’d better get back, though,” Wendy said.

I looked in the direction of the noise. My eyes widened when an
older woman peeked from behind the curtain of an upstairs window, then
disappeared quickly.

“I saw her!” I said, tugging on Wendy’s sleeve.

“What?” Wendy asked.

“She was right there in the window,” I said, pointing up to the
second story.

We heard a girl laugh. We turned around and saw Julie hiding behind
the weeping willow tree with a handful of little rocks. She stepped out from
the tree.

“Scared you, didn’t I? You should have seen your faces,” she said,
laughing at us.

“That wasn’t funny, Julie,” I said, turning to leave.

“Not so brave today, are you, New Girl?”

I walked to the end of the dirt road and could barely make out the
name on the weathered mailbox. It read, “Weaver.”

That night in bed, I reviewed everything in my head and the three
things that kept coming back to me were—the woman behind the curtain, Julie,
and my mother.

I wondered about the woman behind the curtain and what secrets,
what horrors kept her locked inside her house.

I thought about Julie and how much I wanted
to be like her.

And, I thought about my mother. I finally realized how
alone
she must feel, because now I was in the same boat.