Watery Graves (21 page)

Chapter Thirty Six

Emmy woke in her own bed. Feeling a little strange
, she wondered if she’d been sick. She felt the warmth of her mother beside her. It had been too long since they’d shared a bed.

“Mum?” Emmy thought.

“No it’s me, Em,” Maya said.

“Maya? I dreamt about you.”

“No. It wasn’t a dream. I’m helping you to transition Em.”

“Transition.”

“You might have done all you were born to do. The river claimed you.”

“No
.”

“It did. I’ll show you.”

*

Emmy floated above Ingrid and Kristian. They were in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. Sadness dulled the room. The bedroom door was locked. Another soul was in the room waiting, a new little girl. Emmy was drawn to her. She knew that this little girl was about to be born into the life that Emmy had recently departed.

A box was open beside the bed. Inside, lay a bundle of photos. Emmy plucked one out and let it float to the floor. Kristian and her mother lurched out of bed and stared at the image. It was an ultrasound photo, the first one ever taken of Emmy. With a sharp intake of breath, Ingrid bit her lip and brought her hand to her stomach, catching Kristian’s eye. The soul in the corner of the room glowed.

Outside, Sebastian hurdled across slippery rocks, fists clenched and face reddened. The rocks were covered in new moss. Even with the tread on his boots, he slipped and slid. Emmy drifted down and wrapped herself around him, until she sensed his heaving chest and hot breath dissipate. He submitted to her calm, and collapsed on the grassy bank above the water, tears smearing his cheeks.

Up at the lookout, Emmy found Libby rocking, gripping her knees and allowing the tears to flow. Beside her on the checked rug,
Heidi
lay open. Emmy flicked the pages open to the page she’d last read in her time on Earth, Heidi’s return to the mountain. Libby reached for the book and began to read.

Satisfied, Emmy soared towards the row of pine trees, realising Maya was nearby and pausing. She watched Maya’s energy gain in strength as she enveloped Libby, lifting her to her feet and guiding her over the rocky ledge down the incline to Sebastian. Spent, Libby flopped down beside him. Maya guided their hands into positions close enough to touch. Sebastian inched his fingers the rest of the distance and pulled Libby to him.

Emmy looked to Maya in silent question.

“It’s what they need,” Maya said, embracing Emmy’s soul and turning her towards the sun.  “It’s time to go.”

“Not yet.”

“You can always visit again,” Maya said, nudging her back to face the light. “It’s their life now. It’s all up to them.”

“I’m not ready to go.”

A glow radiated in the river in front of her. Emmy’s father emerged and drew her to him, guiding her into the depths through the reeds.

Maya followed.

They joined her grandparents and her uncle, still young. Together, they shared a last moment of tranquil
lity. Time stopped. Fish swam through their apparitions.

For the first time ever, Mercy River felt warm, comforting and safe. Above her was a bright light,
as if the sun hovered above the surface. Emmy dived deeper and did a handstand. In no need of air, she swam on the sunlit sandy bottom through water clearer than she had ever seen it.

When she broke through the surface, she spotted Maya. Emmy glided to her. As she drew closer, she became aware of the glimmer that outlined Maya’s form. She realised she was the same.

Maya smiled and the aura intensified. “Death is an ending and a beginning for those who leave and those left behind. The trouble is everyone struggles against seeing it that way.” 

Emmy didn’t want to hear her. She ducked under and did another handstand, coming up laughing. The faces of her father, Uncle Pete and her grandparents hovered around her. They formed a circle. Their energy warmed her.

“It’s time to go,” her father said. “We’ll always be here for you. There’s no need to be afraid.”

“I know,” Emmy said, feeling her soul lift. But there was a violent shudder and the world became hard again.

Chapter Thirty Seven

Hot liquid spurted from Emmy’s mouth, caking her cold wet chest with its heat. Strange hands stretched her arm out and rolled her onto her side, fingers scraping muck from her mouth and throat. Her beating heart channelled blood through heavy aching limbs. It was as though every vein in her body engorged at once.

“Emmy?”

The voice was unfamiliar. She forced her eyes open, and saw a blurry face, with a black painted tear on pale skin. The sea green eyes were alive.

“I know you can hear me,” the girl in black said.

Emmy moaned. Her eye lids dropped and the world blurred again. “Your friend Libby’s gone for help. I’m going to take care of something. I need you to stay here and not move. Let him think you’re dead. Let him have to live with that.”

At the sound of the earth crunching underneath her, Emmy opened her eyes. Black boots walked away from her. Emmy noticed the girl’s body outlined by a halo of colour, pinks and purples, yellows and blues. The trees towering around her seemed to bow down then stretch to the sun, as the breeze played among the branches. White light hung like a mist over the river.

It took time for the girl in black to get to the footbridge. It wasn’t the one near their home. It was downstream, ugly and broken. Emmy watched the girl’s aura change as she crossed it, flaming with reds and oranges as she confronted someone slumped against a rock on the other side. The person’s light was dull. She didn’t realise it was Jed until he stood. The red shirt that he held in his limp hand connected with the swirls of red protecting the girl.

Emmy stayed still. Not out of duty but because it was all she could do. Exhausted, she half-closed her eyes. A trail of glowing green ants carried a grain of sand each. A tree frog slipped into her line of vision. With its throat swelling, an outstretched flipper touched her jaw, sticky and cold. Its lips pressed against her chin.

The earth shook. Her eyes sprang open in time to see Jed slink away between the trees out of sight. The girl sat on a rock in the shadows under the footbridge. Emmy felt satisfied they had won. Jed had become the outcast. The world had lost its glow. The frog slapped its way across her face, tugging on her hair as it tumbled to the ground. The last ant disappeared down a hole. Hands gripped her face, lifting it to the sun. She pressed her eyes tight but they were pried open.

“Emmy? Can you hear me?” Kristian panted.

Others gathered around her, Libby and Sebastian. Her mother stood back, gulping down raspy sobs.

Emmy pulled away from Kristian and lifted her face
, finding Libby. She murmured, “What was that girl’s name?”

“What girl?” Libby said, kneeling down.

Kristian checked over her body, looking for bumps and scrapes, broken bones. She knew where they were but didn’t tell him.

“The girl in black. The one in the paper.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Em.”

“No one even bothers to remember her name,” Emmy mumbled.

“She’s had a bump to her head,” Kristian said.

“I’m sorry, Em. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Libby muttered.

“Libby, you didn’t listen to me.”

Ingrid dropped and rested her head in Emmy’s lap. “The river didn’t take me, Mum. I thought it did, but I’m still here. I won’t be going in again though. Not til it’s flat.”

“Careful of her neck Ingrid,” Kristian said. “Hold it still.”

“We’re never going near it again. This river has done all it’s ever going to do.”

Emmy shook her head. “No Mum, that’s not the answer. When the river’s calm it’s an amazing place.”

Sebastian sat down beside her, drawing his knees to his chest. Emmy managed to reach for his hand. She pressed it to her cheek.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” Emmy said. Her eyes drifted to the river. The mist had disappeared, but a pin-prick of light rose from the water. Four more lights drifted after it. As a cluster they soared towards the sun. Only she could see them.

Chapter Thirty Eight

The dust soared high into the atmosphere. The gravelly chunks sank to the bottom of Mercy River like stones. Kristian placed Maya’s empty urn on the water’s edge. He held his hand out to Ingrid. She took it and stood beside him.

“Let’s live
as Maya wanted.”

Emmy stood in the shallows beside Sebastian. She watched her mother cry but continue to move wherever Kristian
’s hand guided her.

The girl in black had a name.
Her name was Julie. Julie Green. She was with them all the time now. On this day, she was the first in, floating in the depths. Ripples radiated from her body.

The river was clear.
The mud cupped their feet, tripping them in the shallows. It didn’t seem eerie anymore. Instead, it broke the tension. As a family they dived in. Emmy dived deepest, gliding along the bottom. Calm cool watery fingers ran through her long hair. The silence was peaceful, just like her death dream. When her lungs began to hurt and she could hold out no longer, Emmy breast-stroked to the surface, breaking through with a rush.

The first sound she heard was
her mother laughing.
             

And now to send out some huge thankyou’s…

Emmy first appeared to me when I was working in a job in Toowong. In order to get to work, I had to travel through the Gap a suburb in Brisbane, Australia. At the time, Settlement Road was a nightmare in the morning, so I found some crafty ways of dodging traffic. Every time I did, in this particular section, I would imagine a roadway becoming a track leading high up into the mountains. It was all in my imagination. I would have to go back there to see what triggered it. Mercy Falls could exist anywhere in the world, Norway, Colorado, New Zealand or the back hills of Adelaide right here in Australia. I’ll leave that to the reader. Regardless, I am so grateful for the traffic and this road trip because this whole world was born to me. A family came to life in my mind.  This family lived a life I have always wanted to live. As an introvert quietness on a mountaintop continues to be a modern day fantasy. In light of that I would like to firstly thank Emmy and her family for living so solidly in my mind for as long as you have and for giving me a taste of that life. I can totally understand Emmy’s reluctance to give it up. All I have to do to revisit that mountain life is to read this book.

I would love to thank my writers group,
the
Twisted Leads
, for endlessly workshopping this with me. And I do mean endlessly. We all have our skills and talents. I love that we have a forum where we can share what we think. Thanks so much to Kate Shelley, Rae Eather, Kay Fallico and Helen Chebatte. Your support is appreciated to the sun and back. I love that our group is about writing and so, so much more. I live in hope that all our work makes it out into the world successfully and falls into the hands of the people who are most meant to read and enjoy it.

I would love to thank publishers in Australia for considering this work seriously. It is a tough game and I will never stop playing it. Thank you. On the same note, I would love to extend huge amounts of gratitude to those running competitions. With your help
, I have had recognition for all of my work and that has given me the confidence to step forward and publish it. I will continue to enter your competitions and hope again it falls into the hands of people who see its merit. Writing is a subjective game. I love to send my work out to see if it does get a reaction. Good or bad, being on the emotional extremes is far more interesting to me than an average, passable response. My goal is to write books that haven’t been written before and effect people deeply.

I would also love to
say a big thank you to my husband, Wayne, for always encouraging my writing. Also, a thank you goes to our two boys for adding so much richness to our lives. They make the time away from my writers desk fun and interesting. As a writer I live a double life. A lot does happen in my head while I’m trying to be the best mum and wife I can be. Thank you for putting up with my quirks. It has to be a challenge at times. 

And, of course, a big thankyou goes
out to friends and family who support my writing. That basically includes anyone who reads it. It’s nice to write and put it out there to be read.  I hope it’s something you’ve enjoyed, that some of the characters sit with you for a while, and maybe the story itself makes you think a little on the side.

Love to you all

Kelli Bradicich