This River Awakens

by Steven Erikson

  He’s not a gentle boy. Not at all. That’ll be his saving grace, I think. A hard child for a hard world.

  There must be beauty somewhere, son. I’ll tell you that, when we talk for the last time. My gift in exchange. Not enough to balance what you’ve given me, but it’s all I’ve got left that’s worth giving.

  Ancient poems in cold-hammered tongues. Maybe the time’s come again for sword-on-shield words, for cursing the heavens and the old men on their sagging thrones.

  Schooners, sloops and ketches rocked wildly in the waves. His memory was that sharp.

  IV

  My head rested on her stomach, the soft folds under me warm and damp beneath the t-shirt. ‘I can’t trust you any more,’ I said. My mouth tasted like ashes, each breath I drew felt harsh in my throat.

  ‘Never again,’ she said. ‘Promise.’

  She wouldn’t tell me what had happened to her. She’d never trusted me with that much of herself, something that hadn’t bothered me before but did now. Whatever she’d experienced had frightened her. ‘A bad trip. I panicked, Owen. You can’t panic. One minute you were there beside me, then next you were gone.’ Were you alone? ‘No, but you were gone.’

  I went away, my lungs still on fire with your smoke. It’d felt like thirst. Not for water, but for more fire. I went far away. I went home.

  ‘We lost hours,’ Jennifer said. ‘But it only felt like minutes. Only look, the sun’s almost down.’

  I closed my eyes. ‘Hours. I felt them.’ A long way, and you’d poured yourself into me and you’re inside me now, a slow, steady burn. I turned my head and looked up at her. The cigarette in her hand was near her face. She looked like a model, or a movie star. ‘You wanted me to fuck you,’ I said.

  ‘I know. I, uh, I thought you did.’

  I sat up. ‘Did I?’

  ‘No. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t anyone. Come here and kiss me. Lie beside me, I want your face against mine. Close.’

  I rolled over and around. There were ants in the grass under us, but the numbness that started in our stomachs and spread out in slow waves kept everything away. I kissed her, then lay down on my side with my face alongside hers, our mouths within easy reach of each other.

  ‘I found a word in my dictionary,’ I said. ‘Vicarious. As in vicarious pleasure.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Nothing. Just a word.’

  ‘I wish there was a drug that’d make us merge together. Like, completely. And we could both feel everything, both of us together.’

  ‘We’d spend all day masturbating.’

  She fell silent. Smoked. I remained, vicarious.

  ‘Never again, Owen. I wanted to turn you on. But I don’t want you like Barb, or Sandy. I hardly see them any more, except when they want to buy. One of them will OD soon. One of them will crash, and then talk, and I’ll be in shit. I’m not selling to them any more. They can get it from somewhere else.’

  I felt the muscles of her mouth move when she talked. Her words buzzed in my bones. Her voice was beautiful, low, rough at the edges. ‘Glue me here,’ I said.

  She laughed, then said, ‘I won’t do it again. All my trips are going bad. I can’t get away. I’m quitting everything.’

  ‘Smoking?’

  ‘No, and you don’t want me to, either.’

  ‘Do you believe in dragons?’

  ‘You mean, like, dinosaurs?’

  ‘No. Like in St George and the Dragon.’

  ‘Who’s St George?’

  ‘Okay, like in Chinese paintings.’

  She took a drag, pulled it into her lungs, then turned her head slightly and probed her tongue into the corner of my mouth. Then she settled back again, exhaled. ‘They’re just stories. Fairytales.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You battled dragons, Owen?’

  I frowned. ‘No. No battles.’

  ‘Fire-breathing?’

  ‘Maybe. There’s one right beside me now.’

  ‘Roar!’

  ‘Ow, my ear!’

  Her laugh sounded liquid and delicious. I wondered if I was in love.

  ‘I’m honing the fatuous,’ I said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Something told me, I think. Not aloud. “Stop honing the fatuous,” it said.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘Don’t know. But it felt like what my dad calls a kick in the pants.’ I sat up. ‘I’m hungry. Want to come over for dinner?’

  ‘Feeling brave, are you?’

  ‘I guess. I feel like shocking them.’

  Jennifer sat up and said, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, would they kick me out? Swear at me? Maybe you’ll get canned. Maybe they’ll say you can’t see me any more.’

  ‘They won’t kick you out. They won’t swear. And they can’t can me for ever. We’ll be at school together, right? And if they say we can’t go together, I won’t listen. We just go back to doing it in secret again. You can’t just go home now. Not after all this.’

  ‘That’s the last place I want to go. Anyway, Mom’s started cooking and stuff again.’ She hesitated, then shrugged. ‘Fuck it. Let’s go, then.’

  Neither of us felt steady on our feet. We held hands as we left the overgrown lot and emerged on to the road. Across from us a lamp sitting on a pole had been turned on. Moths danced wildly around it. A mosquito buzzed in my ear – there weren’t many around, because of the drought – and I lazily waved at it. ‘We might be a bit late, but Mom always leaves some for me.’

  ‘I’m only a little hungry. It’s okay if you don’t have enough.’

  ‘Oh, we have enough. It just may not be cooked. We’ve got lots of food, in the fridge, in the cupboards.’

  Jennifer gave me a strange look.

  We continued on. As we came opposite Carl’s house we heard an argument going on inside. Or, rather, Carl’s dad yelling something about his torn jacket and it still wasn’t fixed.

  ‘Lynk beat up Carl,’ I said.

  ‘Big surprise. Carl gets beat up all the time. At school. Guys from Riverview. Gary and Dennis and those guys – you haven’t met them yet. They’re shits, little shits.’

  ‘Well, Lynk’s being a real asshole these days.’

  ‘He’s always been an asshole. Why do you hang out with him?’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s me, Roland, Lynk and Carl. Has been since I first met them.’

  ‘Want me to hide my smokes?’

  ‘No. Mom smokes. Debbie does, too, in secret up in her room. She opens the window and it comes into my room because our windows are right next to each other. Mom knows, I think. She’s always leaving her pack out – like rat-traps or something.’

  ‘Maybe she’s just being generous.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way.’

  We cut across the ditch at the bend, approached the dark entrance to the driveway. We still held hands. I expected it to work the same way it had for Roland and Lynk and Carl, so there wouldn’t be any of those awkward unspoken questions – the funny looks and stuff.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A factory engine. My dad’s rebuilding it.’

  Father sat on the steps, cradling a mug of coffee in his big hands. He grinned at me. ‘Lots of leftovers. I’m sure your mother will manage, Owen.’

  ‘This is Jennifer.’

  He nodded. ‘G’evening.’

  ‘Hi.’

  Father set his cup down on the step. ‘Um, I suggest you two brush yourselves off before you head inside.’

  I looked over at Jennifer. In the porch light’s bright glow I saw that her t-shirt and hair were covered in twigs, dried-up leaves and moss. I looked down at myself and saw the same. ‘Oh,’ I said.

  ‘Take a few minutes,’ Dad said, straightening. ‘I’ll be inside.’

  ‘Uh, yeah.’

  He closed the screen door behind him. I started brushing the stuff from Jennifer’s back. ‘I gotta get to the bathroom rig
ht away,’ she said.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘That’s your dad, huh?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘He’s all right.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s a mechanic.’

  * * *

  They ate alone in the dining room. Sort of, Jennifer corrected herself. His mother kept finding reasons to come into the room. More bread? Would you two like another glass of milk? Jennifer thought she was pretty, in a drawn-out kind of way.

  All the usual questions had been asked. Do you live close by? Have you two been friends long? Jennifer was surprised at herself for feeling shy – she usually reacted to any grown-up giving her attention with nasty sarcasm, and contempt. But with Owen’s mother, she felt vulnerable, lost.

  The twins, Tanya and William, briefly showed up to giggle, then went back to the living room where they’d set up a train set on the rug, William driving the trains and Tanya being a mother living in a farmhouse near the station. Jennifer could hear them arguing over turf, there on the living-room rug.

  Debbie had said hello, then went up to her room to play records. Owen’s father had gone back outside to work in his garage, which left Owen’s mother. She cleared the dishes away then came back in and sat down, cigarettes and ashtray in hand.

  Jennifer thought to relieve one concern right away. She took her own cigarettes out from where the pack sat tucked in her jeans just behind the clasp. ‘Owen’s not one for peer pressure,’ she said. ‘Which is good, since he’s surrounded right now.’

  ‘What she means—’

  ‘I know what Jennifer means, Owen,’ his mother cut in lightly.

  ‘I’m almost a year older than Owen,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’ll be repeating Grade Six because my attendance last year wasn’t good. My mother’s been sick.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is she better now?’

  ‘Getting. She’s not going to die or anything.’

  William crashed the train in the living room. Tanya screamed.

  Owen’s mother said, ‘Debbie almost had to repeat this year.’

  ‘She went to summer school, didn’t she?’

  ‘You’ve met.’

  ‘There’s not many kids around here. We met a couple of times in the playground. I live right beside it.’

  ‘The house with the dogs?’

  Jennifer nodded. Owen sat in his chair, his head turning from his girlfriend to his mother as the conversation went along. His face was expressionless, but his eyes moved sharply, as if comparing them. Taking pictures like he always does. Jennifer cleared her throat. ‘I’m hoping Owen can help me with homework and stuff. He’s pretty smart. He knows lots of words, reads lots of books.’

  His mother was nodding. ‘I’d been worrying that that was all he did. Books, books and more books. He came back from the library yesterday with a whole armful.’

  ‘Owen can do lots more than just read,’ Jennifer said. The words hung there and she felt a blush rise to her face.

  Owen jumped off his seat. ‘Sounds like trouble in the living room. I’ll go calm them down.’

  Jennifer glared at him, but the look was lost as he hurried out.

  ‘I never thought Owen would have a girlfriend so soon,’ his mother said. ‘Debbie didn’t show any real interest in boys until she was, oh, at least fifteen. Of course, Owen always was precocious.’

  Precocious. So that’s who he gets it from. ‘It’s different out of the city, I guess,’ Jennifer said. ‘Like, Roland drives a tractor all by himself. That’s one of Owen’s friends.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve met. And Lynk, and Carl. Would you like some tea?’

  ‘Do you have coffee?’

  She rose, smiling. ‘Coming right up.’ She paused. ‘Why don’t you hunt down my son. He’ll hide for ever if he can.’ She turned and entered the kitchen.

  Jennifer stared after her a moment, then laughed. Her amusement fell away as she stubbed out her cigarette and pushed back the chair. Why them and not us? Is it because there’s more kids? Is it because they wanted them in the first place? She drew a deep breath. Tanya and William yelled at each other, moments away from a scrap. Jennifer pictured Owen sitting there, saying nothing, watching them, his eyes missing nothing.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I

  The ringing phone woke him up. He climbed out of bed, wearing nothing, and made his way through the sultry air. It was 8 a.m.

  ‘Hello?’ he croaked, the day’s first word.

  ‘Hodgson? It’s Bill. You awake?’

  Fisk sat down in the easy chair, the fabric feeling like sandpaper under him. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Well, I heard what happened, eh?’

  ‘Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘There’s more than one version, you know.’ Fisk looked down the length of his body. He’d begun to sag, he noticed.

  ‘Yeah,’ Bill said, ‘well, which one do you think I believe? Louper’s a drunk. He’s capable of anything. Peters couldn’t be sure enough to swear it, but he thinks the girl’s pants were down.’

  ‘But he didn’t want to get involved. I know. So who pulled the strings, Bill? I figured the police had enough to charge me on their own, and all they did was give me the riot act – as if I’ll show up there again.’

  ‘So they saw your service record. So they know enough to know what to respect. Besides, they’ve had run-ins with Sten before. He’s got a half-dozen drunk driving charges as it is. Nobody wanted trouble, not in this day and age – the wrong kind of trouble, if you know what I mean. Sten got what he deserved for trying to do what he tried to do, eh? The Hodgson Fisk I know wouldn’t just stand by and let that happen. And he wouldn’t jump the gun, either.’

  Fisk scratched a thigh. The damn chair was agony. A thousand biting ants. The Hodgson Fisk you know, eh, Bill? ‘Thanks, Bill. For everything.’

  ‘No problem. Listen, no money changed hands with that dog food deal, did it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, there’s probably violations of the code, but I’m not going to bother looking them up. I’m just amazed the dogs actually eat that stuff.’

  ‘It’s ground up. Cut with regular food.’

  ‘That what he told you?’

  ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘He’s got jars of the stuff. It isn’t cut with anything.’

  Fisk sighed. ‘Christ, that’s one nasty nest he’s keeping. Look, that girl’s in trouble living there. The wife, too. They’re scared. That’s why they lied. Can’t you do something?’

  ‘There’s a doctor in there now. He’s intervened, I think they call it. And Family Services is involved now, too. I guess things are in the works. Listen, Hodgson, I just want you to know, you come by the Legion and a lot of people will come up and shake your hand.’

  ‘Kind of you. I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Great. Okay, see you, then. Go have breakfast, eh?’

  Once he had hung up the phone, Fisk got out of the chair as fast as he could. A part of his mind had become convinced it’d turned into an ant-hill under him. He went back into the bedroom and dressed, thinking about what Bill had said.

  He wasn’t looking for handshakes. He didn’t need them to justify what he’d done. But he appreciated that strings had been pulled on his behalf. Maybe it was time to … wake up again, step back outside. A shave, a bath, clean clothes. Not the Legion Hall, though. He wasn’t the kind of man who needed to tell stories to stay alive inside and out. The past was done, dead and over with. None of it made any difference, and it was stupid and pathetic to pretend otherwise, to keep going back to the sandbox, which once seemed so big but was now tiny, overcrowded with old men in ill-fitting clothes.

  He entered the kitchen and put water on for coffee, then stood, motionless, waiting for it to boil.

  Three boys in the basement. School’s started. Maybe I’ll let them go. Clean things up. Maybe I’ll do it one thing at a time. Make the slow walk back, step, then step, then step. The boys coming l
ast of all. That Louper bastard – what happened that night – it’s shaken me. Not a weakness, admitting that. There’s a world out there. I’d forgotten. It’s ugly and mean, and there’s people who need help.

  The war was about that. But nothing’s really changed. The shit’s flying all over the place. Never again, we all said. We’d felt like giants when we said it, because we meant it, because we’d seen enough. But it wasn’t up to us. They fooled us, made us think we were important, made us think we’d done something, changed things for the better. Then, slow and sure, they resumed business as usual. The promise got compromised, just a little at first, then more and more. And all we did was get into our outdated uniforms once a year and tell each other stories over beers all the other days.

  An ugly world. Old men with the scars fucked right over. Fool us and the rest are just puppies. No problem getting them to cower.

  The kettle whistled. He found the instant coffee and a cup that was more or less clean.

  People out there needed help. Of course, there were others, ready to step in, to intervene. They’d do the job, clean things up. Hell, who am I to think I’m important to anyone? Shouldn’t be all worried like this. They’ll get the girl out. She’ll stop being afraid and she’ll tell the truth then, and that’ll be that. Sten will do time and what he did will mean he won’t get out alive. Everybody’s got rules, and some of those people are meaner than others when it comes time for punishing the ones that break them. Good enough. Here I thought I’d be useful again. No need. None at all. The boys below can rot a while longer. Bill and his buddies are raising me a toast. Good enough. I wish I’d killed that bastard. Christ, he wouldn’t fall down. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  His feet were getting tired, standing there. Fisk rubbed the bristle on his jaw. He’d shave, get cleaned up. Nothing wrong with that. No special meaning. None at all. He swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

  The cage rows wavered in the heat beyond the kitchen window. He’d have to hose them down again. He’d lost six already to the heat, and too many stillborns. If the weather didn’t break soon it’d be a tight winter. Might even go in the hole.

  Maybe I’ll shave tomorrow.