Blackwater (3 page)

“Brodie!” he shouted. “Brodie, give me a hand.”

I couldn’t have moved if he’d dynamited me. He was coming, stepping carefully. Water stuck his shorts to him.

Peekaboo, I see through. I see Paris and Peru.

He picked his way across to me. I held tighter to the stump.

“Hi, Brodie!” he said, in a pretty normal voice, like we were meeting in the street. He waved his hand in front of my face, I guess to see if I’d gone blind or brain damaged or something. When he spoke again, his words were loud and spaced apart. “I’m going to untie this rope.” His fingers touched it where it looped around his belly. “Then I’m going to tie it around both of us and we’ll go back together. You’ll be safe. Clem has the end clamped to his jeep and they’re all
pulling on it. You and I aren’t going anywhere but to that bank. OK?”

It wasn’t OK. Not with me.

“Stand up,” he ordered, and I did. But I was shaking my head.

“I’m not going,” I said.

I watched him untie the rope from himself and put it around me, then tie himself in front of me, so I was like a frog on his back.

“We’re going in now, Brodie,” he said over his shoulder.

“Uh-uh!”

I tried to plant my feet the way the horse I always get at the fair does, but I skidded, and the rope cut into my back, and now Hank was in the river, and I remembered the smell of it, the taste of it, the drag of it, and I grabbed with my arms tight around his waist. He was struggling, swimming. I could hear him grunting and wheezing and I was terrified. I grabbed even tighter.

“Don’t push me down, Brodie,” he yelled, and he reached around and whacked me on my ear so I loosened my hold.

Closer.

Closer.

Then we were stumbling on the riverbank, and Clem Butcher had his hands around Hank’s wrist and we were being pulled out together.

“You’re all right now, you’re all right,” Clem Butcher said, and he and the Batman started untying our rope.

“There’s a couple of blankets in the jeep,” he told Alex. “Go get them.”

Alex said, “Sure.” Then he looked up and said, “Here come the police.”

“Do you want to bring the two of them back to the house?” the Batman asked. “They look half frozen.”

“Let’s just hold on and see what Raoul wants to do,” Clem said.

Raoul is one of our Rivertown cops. He’s actually the chief.

Alex gave us the blankets and we draped them around us. I was trying to remember if I’d been a total coward, there with Hank. I thought I had. I’d never be able to face him again. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered after Pauline and Otis.

The cop car stopped and Raoul got out. “Are they OK?” he asked.

“Brodie’s pretty cut up around the head,” Clem said. “I thought I’d take him on in to Mrs. Doc Watson, unless you guys would rather handle it.”

“You go ahead,” Raoul said.

“Did you…did you find Pauline and Otis yet?” I chittered.

“Not yet.” Raoul wrapped the blanket around me. “Hold it tight, like this, Brodie.”

“Do you think they’ll…get them?” I was shaking so much, I could hardly stand.

“We have guys way down at Big Bend. They’ll try to snag them as they go past. And the chopper’s on its way up from Gainsville. We’ve gotten people out of the Blackwater before.”

I couldn’t remember a single time. “Tell them she’s got this white bikini with sunflowers,” I stammered. “Yellow flowers.”

“Yeah. We know. Don’t you worry about it now.”

“He’s got blue trunks,” Alex added.

“Blue,” I repeated.

Hank Chubley had pulled his jeans on over his underpants, and he was rubbing at his hair with a towel.

“You did a great job, Hank,” Clem Butcher said, and Raoul clapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Hank,” I stammered.

“Welcome.” Hank’s teeth were chattering, too. “Sorry I had to hit you.”

“That’s OK.”

Alex was close beside me. “I’m Brodie’s cousin,” he told Raoul. “Brodie did a great job, too.”

“What exactly happened?” Raoul asked.

“Like I was telling them before you got here,” Alex said. “Brodie and I were going swimming in the pond. He was going to teach me. And we saw those two kids out on the big rock.”

Alex pointed, and I turned to look as if I’d never seen the Toadstool in my life, the river curling behind it, splashing white up on the gray rock surface. I crossed my arms in front of the blanket and nibbled on my knuckles.

Alex was talking again. “I’m not exactly sure what happened. The two of them, the girl and the guy …”

They were all nodding.

“Well, they were sort of like dancing or something. She was lying on her stomach at first, and
he kind of pulled her up with his arms around her middle….”

He stopped and there wasn’t a sound as everyone pictured it. I was picturing it, too.

“I don’t think she wanted to dance.” Alex’s eyes flickered from one face to the next. “She was squealing, ‘No, No, you’re hurting me’ and stuff like that. But he didn’t let go.”

“You could hear all this?” Raoul was frowning.

“Sure. She was squealing, and what I thought was, she’d maybe been out there, and then he came and started putting the moves on her. And she kind of struggled. He had his arms around her and that’s when they both staggered back and toppled.”

“And where were you, Brodie? Did you see the same thing?” Raoul’s glance was sharp.

I swallowed, tried to speak.

“He was just behind me.” Alex stopped and jerked a sideways glance at me. “Man, that river pulled them along fast. And my cousin here, he started going in after them right away, but I said, ‘No, you’d have a better chance downriver a bit. Why don’t you run back on the path, and I’ll go to that house we passed…. Maybe we can get
help.’ ” He nodded toward the Batman. “And he called, and then I started running again ’cause even though I can’t swim I figured maybe I could do something, and I saw Brodie, out on this island. I couldn’t hardly believe it.”

I was staring at him. What was he saying? All this about Otis making the moves on Pauline? They’d been kissing and touching…both of them.

I clutched Raoul’s arm. “Not right,” I whispered. “My fault. I swam out—” I had to stop to heave up some river water.

“Take it easy, Brodie,” Raoul said. “I know you swam out. And maybe getting to that island could have helped. You did the best you could, and don’t go blaming yourself for anything. You are one terrific kid, trying as hard as you did.” He put an arm around my shoulders. “No more talking. Clem?” he asked. “Does your backseat go down? Brodie should get flat. And we need something to hold against that gash in his head.”

“Don’t want to lie down,” I muttered.

“You should,” Alex said, in a real concerned voice. “I’ll help you.” He opened the jeep door. “Listen, Brodie,” he whispered. “Go along with
my story. If anybody finds out what really happened, you’ll be in a mess of trouble.”

My mouth felt swollen. “Was it my fault?”

“Sure it was your fault. Who else was there?”

“But …”

Clem took an old T-shirt out of the front seat and gave it to me. “Here, Brodie. Hold this against your head. Keep pressing on it.”

“I’ll have to back up,” Raoul said. “Hank, why don’t you come with me. You too, Alex. We can turn at the house,” he told Clem.

“I dropped our towels on your sandbags,” Alex told the Batman. “Is it OK if I stop and get them?”

“Sure.”

In a minute we were all moving. I held the blanket around me and pressed the T-shirt hard against my head.

We were reversing. I didn’t lie down.

Out of the jeep I saw the Blackwater hurling itself along, too. Pauline and Otis didn’t have a chance.

M
om and Dad were waiting on the Riverview Dock. I could see them through the window. I’d have to face them in a second. I knew something they didn’t. I knew I’d killed Pauline and Otis.

My mother was wearing her old raincoat, her blue nightgown trailing below. Dad had his car coat over his green striped pajamas. Mom’s long light hair blew across her face. She had on the big rubber boots she keeps on the steps outside the back door, the ones she wears when she’s gardening and it’s mucky. Probably she’d rushed from the house barefoot.

The police car had pulled to a stop, and I could hear Alex calling from the open window. “Aunt Jenny! Uncle David!”

Then Clem stopped the jeep and Dad was jerking open the door, Mom behind him with her arm around Alex.

“Oh, Brodie!” Mom’s eyes overflowed with tears. “Thank God you’re safe. We heard about the island.” She lifted the T-shirt away. “Oh, your poor head!” She pressed the T-shirt gently back in place.

“Mrs. Doc Watson is here,” Dad told Clem. “We can’t thank you enough for what you did for Brodie.”

“No problem.” Clem turned off the engine.

“Raoul,” Dad called. “And Hank …” Hank stepped out of the cop car, his hair still river wet and sticking up around his head. “I don’t know how we’ll ever be able to thank you.”

“Hey! I like swimming,” Hank said.

Dad smiled, then said to Clem, “Mrs. Doc says it would be a good idea if you just took Brodie to McClung General. That way he won’t have to change cars and we can follow. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a bit.” Clem was already releasing the jeep’s hand brake.

“I don’t want to go up to the hospital,” I said.
“I want to go home.” Was this weepy baby voice mine?

“OK, Brodie.” Dad’s big hand was soft on my cheek. He turned and I saw Mrs. Doc standing beside her white pickup. In a few seconds Dad came back. “Mrs. Doc says we can just take you on up to your bed. She says she’ll come right away and give you the once-over there.” Above us a helicopter noised across the sky. We all stopped talking till the sound faded.

“Has anybody heard anything…about…?” Shivers chased each other up and down my legs under the tartan blanket.

“There’s no news yet,” Dad said. “Let’s get going, Brodie.”

He and Clem half lifted, half carried me out of the jeep and over to Dad’s car.

I held tight to Mom’s hand while Mrs. Doc checked beneath the T-shirt that I was still holding against my head.

Alex squinted at the gash. “I bet you have a good-looking scar,” he said. “One of the Vultures has a scar on his chin, but yours is going to be better.”

“Not with the kind of neato stitching I do,
young man,” Mrs. Doc Watson said. “First prize for needlework at every county fair. Only if it’s skin, though.”

I tried to grin but there were other things, awful things. “Mom,” I said. “I have something to tell you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she said. “But don’t try to talk now.”

“We’ll just put a pad and some tape over this cut to hold it together till we get to the house,” Mrs. Doc said. She bent close to me and I could smell the mediciny smell of her. I could see the little hairs that bushed up on her eyebrows. “There.” She winked at Mom. “OK, nurse. Wheel him away.”

Sirens whined up on River Road, police or ambulance, I wasn’t sure.

Raoul turned in the direction of the sound. “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be off now. They’ll be needing all the help they can get downriver.”

“Of course. Go,” Dad said. “Go!”

I thought about all the police, and the firemen and the volunteers, scouring the river, leaning across Dinkins Bridge, and I thought of the two
bodies, swirling down. I moaned and Mom said to Dad, “Let’s hurry and get him home.”

“I’ll be over tomorrow to get an official report from the boys.” Raoul leaned into the police car, found his cap and put it on.

“That should be fine,” Dad said.

Dad and Mom and Alex and I were in Dad’s car now, heading up the hill toward home. Mrs. Doc Watson’s truck followed us.

Our house is only one block above the Blackwater, halfway down the hill from River Road. All I wanted was to be there and hide forever.

There were neighbors on the sidewalk and clustered around our fence. I saw kids I knew and others I’d never seen before. Hannah was there, wearing the usual backpack she carries, holding her bike. I know last summer she always went out early searching for bats. She’d grown taller, taller now than me.

Dad helped me out of the car.

I saw John’s mom. “Brodie!” she called.

“Hi, Mrs. Sun,” I croaked. She’d write and tell John. He’d be freaked. He’d never understand about the lies and pretending. I should tell the
truth right now, right now.

“Dad?” I whispered. “Listen …”

“He can listen another time,” Mrs. Doc Watson said firmly. “We’ve got to you get you inside.”

I shuffled toward our door, Dad on one side of me and Mom on the other. The blanket was trailing, and Alex ran and picked it up and carried it behind me, like I was a prince or something.

Suddenly somebody shouted, “You did good, Brodie!” And someone else yelled, “Great try, man!”

And then Mrs. Lundy who lives next door came running up to me and she had this little bundle of flowers, sweet peas that she grows in her garden, and she pushed them toward me.

I poked a hand out from the blanket and took them, and she hugged me, blanket and all, and she said: “You are one terrific kid. I always knew you were.”

And somebody began clapping and then everybody was clapping. It was so terrible. I could feel the tears puddling up again, and I tried to say “No,” but the word stuck somewhere. I could never have said it anyway.

“I know you all want to shake his hand,” Mrs. Doc called out. “But I’m the doctor here and I say you’ll have to wait. Come on, Brodie! You have to lie down.”

Dad had opened the door and I couldn’t get through it fast enough. At the bottom of the stairs he put his arm around me and helped me to my room. And there was my bed, the way I’d left it this morning, and the other bed, the one that was John’s when he slept over, the bed that was Alex’s now. Our pajamas were crumpled on the floor where we’d stepped out of them all those hours ago. It seemed like my whole life ago.

In a blur I saw the familiar blue hooked rug that had been Grandma’s. The blue curtains with the sailboats on them moved in the breeze from the open window. If only I was dreaming and I’d wake up.

I wanted to cry.