Dead River

Chapter Twenty-Four



By the time we get back to the rowboat, the sun, orange and lazy, is sliding down behind the tall pines. Trey’s quiet as he rows across the river. Though we’re facing each other and our knees are only a foot apart, he rows with his head down, never looking at me. I watch the muscles of his arms strain as he rows the boat, which is the only indication he’s working at all. His breath comes slow and steady, and the rowing seems so effortless for him, like he must do it all the time.

Trey exhales and he arches his arms back, and the oars smack against the surface of the water, propelling us forward. “Your boyfriend must be real worried about you.” I can tell the gears in his head are turning, though, because he moves his mouth in about a hundred different ways but no words come out. Finally, he says, “When I was alive I thought I’d have all sorts of time for that kind of thing. Girls, I mean.”

“You didn’t have a girlfriend?” I ask.

“Nah. Not even close.” Trey shrugs. “Thought I’d have the time. But guess we never have as much time as we think we’re going to. Missed out on a lot.”

From the look on his face, a sad, distant longing, it’s obvious he’s thinking of something in particular. “What do you regret the most?”

I think he’s going to say something about his mom. Instead, he gives me a sheepish look. “Well, I ain’t asking for nothing, but I wished I’d kissed a girl.”

I raise my eyebrows. He looks away. I feel heat in my face and he looks over his shoulder, away from me, but I know he’s blushing, too. Talk about awkward. “Is that all?” I finally say.

“Well, maybe if you done it before, ain’t no big deal. But I ain’t, and I had a whole mess of years to think on it. And yeah, it may be a little thing to you, but it’s not when someone’s had that long to think it over.”

“No, I didn’t mean to … I wasn’t making fun of you. I just thought you’d say something else. Something about your mom.”

“Yeah, well. I hate dying in a way that she didn’t know what happened to me, but that wasn’t my doing. But kissing. Hell. I could have done that. I could have kissed the socks off a dozen girls at school. They all gave me looks. I was pretty hot stuff, I should imagine.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh yeah?”

He sticks out his lower lip, then sucks it in. “Well, maybe back then. Maybe girls these days want something else. I don’t know. Girls always kind of befuddled me.”

That word makes me laugh even more. “Befuddled?”

“Yeah. What? That not a word they use these days? Girls are befuddling. With a capital B. It means that one day they like the rain and the next they’re crying about it. They don’t know what they want but they expect you to know it. Be. Fud. Ling.”

“I don’t think girls are befuddling. I think guys are. What’s with the whole wanting-to-be-outdoors-in-subzero-temperatures? Cooking on an open fire? Who wants to be at one with nature? I’d rather not be, thank you very much.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I mean, hunting? Fishing? Gross.”

“You used to fish. You never minded holding them wriggling worm bodies in your hands then. You liked getting mussed up. You used to scrape up the fish scales and put them on your thighs and watch the sun dance on them.”

“Yeah, but I …” “Grew up” is on my tongue, but it doesn’t come out, because suddenly I’m transported to that day I met him, on the river outside my house. I didn’t catch a fish then, didn’t hold one in my hands. Sure, I’d caught plenty before, and I was so angry at him for catching so many and letting them go. But how did he know I liked the mess? How did he know what I did with the scales? “You … watched me?”

“You’re the next Mistress. I’m a guide. Of course I watched you. Up till you left. Then I couldn’t watch you no more.”

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling disappointed, though I’m not sure why.

He laughs a little to himself. “You know, the funny thing was, I had a picture of you in my mind, all this time, of what you would look like grown up. And it was right.”

“That’s … Really?” I wonder what I look like to him. I wonder if he’s disappointed that I don’t like to fish anymore.

“Most days I wondered if I’d ever see you again. Thought you were gone for good. But I’m glad I got the chance to before I …” He looks away. “I’m glad I got the chance to.”

He grips the oars tighter, and I realize that there’s something on his mind. Something he’s not telling me. “Before you what?” I ask.

“Ain’t nothing.” And by the way he says it, I know it’s something. Something big.

By this point we’re at the shore. He jumps out of the boat and pushes it onto land.

I grab his arm. “You have to tell me. You’re sending me back and telling me not to get involved. But I am involved.”

He throws the oars back into the boat. “You’re a Mistress. We protect our Mistresses. End of story.”

“But you said it’s going to weaken my mother if she gives me life. How’s that going to protect her?”

“It would weaken her, yeah. But just as some things weaken her, other things can make her strong again. And I know you don’t get my allegiance to your momma, but I got to do this. For the kingdom.”

I stand there staring at him, uncomprehending. “Do … what, exactly?”

“I’ve been here long enough as it is. I made this decision long time ago. I’m giving her my power. My shine. I got a lot to give, you’ve noticed.”

“But … what? And then what happens to you?”

“I move on. Somewhere else.” He’s silent for a minute, studying me. “Look, Kiandra, I been here too long. And this, it’s a good thing. Something I should’ve done a while ago.”

“But so you’re saying that when I finally do come back here, as Mistress … you won’t be here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “That matter?”

“Well … I mean, yes. I like having a friend here.”

I don’t realize until he shakes it that he’s been extending his hand to me, to help me out of the boat. Even with his support, I stumble awkwardly, my boots sinking up to the laces in mud. Somehow, though Vi, with her unnatural strength, and I had a hard time carrying the body, Trey is able to heft it over his shoulder like it’s nothing. My hair, greenish and greasy, hangs down past his knees, its ends nearly scraping the ground.

I hear footsteps, and my mother is running down the path. “Hurry,” she says. “We have to do this now.”

Sure, Mom, you wouldn’t want to spend one more minute with me than you have to. I step forward and mumble, “Fine. What do I have to do?”

She stands in front of me. “Oh, Kiandra, it isn’t like that. Your father moved you away because he was afraid of losing you. He knew that the river consumed me, and that it called to me, and that I had visions that would wake me up screaming at night. He must have seen the same signs in you, and he couldn’t stand to have it happen to you, too. But what he doesn’t know is that it saved me. Coming here, I knew I could still be with you. You can see visions of us on the river, right?”

“Yes, but—” Suddenly I understand what she’s saying. I cover my mouth with my hand. “You mean …”

“But your father took you away. Now, I don’t blame him, but I wished every day that he hadn’t, and that you would come back to me. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to be alone. If you come to the river, I will find a way to see you.”

Tears spring to my eyes. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss my forehead.

She puts a hand on my forehead, like she used to do to check whether I had a fever. Her skin is clammy and cold, everything I remember. But suddenly I am feeling feverish and dizzy and breathless all at once. The edges of my sight blur and soon all the colors are swirling together, like some child’s finger painting. Then everything dims to a murky black, and all I can feel and hear is the beating of my heart.

Maybe it’s only seconds later that I spring upright, still feeling dizzy as things settle around me. I’m in the boat again. Trey is rowing, his back to me. Black water, topped with yellow foam, is swirling around us. The sky is thick with clouds, as if a storm is threatening. I feel different, but it’s a familiar difference. My heart flutters in my chest. I lift the folds of my jacket and check my stomach. No wound. I know what this is. This is life.

“I’m alive again?” I ask softly.

Trey doesn’t stop rowing.

“Where are we going?”

“Where do you think? I’m rowing you ashore, and you got to get to your daddy and get away from here.” He turns and gives me a hard stare. “Got it?”

“Yes,” I say. “But what about—”

“None of that,” he groans. “You need to get. Don’t worry about the rest.”

“But what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get back to your mom and give her my shine. That’ll restore some of her power. Otherwise she won’t be strong enough to stop Lannie.”

“But … Oh.” Somehow this tugs at my heart in ways I didn’t think existed. I can’t help but ask, “But then you … I’m never going to see you again, right?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “I told you, quit worrying. There ain’t nothing you can do. This is the way it needs to be. You go on back to that boyfriend of yours.”

“He’s not, anymore,” I mumble. “It’s a long story.”

He pulls the boat ashore and stands, hands on hips, waiting for me. I sit there, stunned. Why do I get to live while everyone else suffers? It seems so unfair. I’m about to tell him this when he speaks.

“You ain’t getting any more alive. Now get.”

I climb out of the boat, feeling strange on my feet, like every step is unsure and my ankles might give out at any moment. I’m cold again, so I wrap my arms around my body. “Thank you,” I say softly, feeling like I should say more, do more. So that is why I open my arms and reach them around him, pulling him into a hug.

After a moment, his body relaxes, and I feel his arms around me, too. It feels nice. I know he needs to be going, but I don’t want to let go. I press the side of my face against his chest, and he must be reading my mind because he says, “Aw, Kiandra, don’t you worry.”

I tilt my head back and he’s looking down at me, trying to smile, but I can see the heaviness in his eyes. So I push myself up on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his. Mine are cold and his are so blazing hot, but it’s not his warmth that makes me cling to him. It’s something else. Maybe it’s that in all my time with Justin I never felt this complete bliss, his body making me feel whole. Trey holds me closer, his lips on mine, and soon everything else is forgotten and we’re lost in each other. Finally, breathless, I pull away from his mouth, and he nibbles along my jaw until he finds my earlobe. “Kiandra,” he whispers, and then he says something that sounds very much like “I love you.”

But before I have a chance to respond, to look into his eyes and see if he really meant it, the world dims. And everything disappears.