Book Read Free

Girl Across the Water

Page 1

by Jody Kihara




  Jody Kihara

  The Girl Across the Water

  Contents

  Chapter 1 ................................................................ 1

  Chapter 2 ................................................................ 8

  Chapter 3 .............................................................. 16

  Chapter 4 .............................................................. 24

  Chapter 5 .............................................................. 35

  Chapter 6 .............................................................. 53

  Chapter 7 .............................................................. 59

  Chapter 8 .............................................................. 80

  Chapter 9 .............................................................. 99

  Chapter 10 .......................................................... 113

  Chapter 11 .......................................................... 122

  Chapter 12 .......................................................... 137

  Chapter 13 .......................................................... 157

  Chapter 14 .......................................................... 162

  Chapter 15 .......................................................... 166

  Chapter 16 .......................................................... 176

  Chapter 17 .......................................................... 185

  Chapter 18 .......................................................... 206

  ©Jody Kihara 2010

  www.jodykihara.com

  ISBN 978-0-9813111-3-5

  The Girl Across the Water

  Chapter 1

  My paddle cut into the sparkling ripples of the lake,

  sucking them back into darker, almost oily-looking gashes

  of water. The canoe moved forward, silent but for the drip

  of water off the paddle. Dozens of tiny reflections of myself

  skimmed ahead on the surface, always jumping away from

  me, always staying the same distance out of reach. The sun

  beat down on my left side, casting a shadow to the right

  that rippled and undulated just below the surface, like

  something that didn't want to come up and face the sun.

  The peacefulness of the moment was interrupted by

  Jasper banging his paddle against the edge of the canoe.

  Four patient lessons from me, and still he couldn’t paddle

  properly: he kept switching sides, as if we were in a kayak,

  even though I'd explained to him that isn't how it works.

  With canoeing, you stick to one side and propel the boat

  with deep, straight strokes. I sat in the stern, doing all the

  work, while Jasper bounced his paddle along in shallow,

  splashing strokes, switching sides randomly and not helping

  at all. He looked even bulgier than usual in his lifejacket.

  1

  The Girl Across the Water

  He was a chubby thirteen-year-old ― well, let’s be honest,

  he was fat ― and the jacket wasn’t doing him any favors.

  My stepbrother was a year younger than me, but almost a

  foot shorter and a couple of feet wider.

  Trying to ignore his ineffective splashing, I steered

  the canoe towards the island. The lake, surrounded by

  steep hills covered with thick evergreen, curved so that you

  couldn’t see either end from the shore. It was about a

  quarter-mile in length and maybe half as wide, and was

  dotted with tiny islands. Most had steep, rocky sides and

  thick clusters of trees that dared anyone to penetrate in.

  The island we were approaching was the one closest to our

  cabin, and it didn’t look like there was much to it: a pebbly

  area of beach where we could land the canoe; rising up

  from this, a slope covered in trees and scrub; and at the

  northern end, a small cliff. Still, it was the most exciting of

  the islands, because we could spy on it from our bedroom

  window. It reminded me of the smuggling stories I used to

  read as a kid, where night-time signals would flash from

  the mainland to guide smugglers in.

  My dad had rented the cabin for a month. He’d had a

  ‘stressful’ year, what with Grandfather dying and all, and

  had explained that he needed a peaceful vacation. That

  translated to: no Disneyland or crowded beaches with

  shrieking toddlers, which was fine by me. I loved the

  woods, loved exploring. Me, Mom, and Dad used to camp in

  the woods in a huge tent, or even better, would stay in a

  tiny, remote cabin. We’d never been to this lake, though.

  Then, after the divorce, vacations got a bit mixed-up, and

  now that my Dad was married to Jasper’s mom, they

  included my stepbrother.

  2

  The Girl Across the Water

  I was okay with the whole stepbrother thing,

  although truthfully, I wouldn’t have minded some time

  alone now and then with my Dad. Jasper was an okay kid, I

  guess, the only thing that stung was that he got to spend

  more time with my Dad than I did (they lived together).

  But seeing as Dad was busy tying up my grandfather’s

  estate and stuff, which meant spending these first few days

  on his laptop or making trips into town, it might’ve been a

  bit lonely without Jasper.

  “Almost there,” he said, trying to turn around but

  getting stuck by his bulky lifejacket.

  “Okay, so when the canoe touches the shore, jump

  out and grab the front of it, then pull it up onto the beach.

  Got it?”

  I gave one last strong stroke before resting the

  paddle across the sides and letting the canoe glide nose-

  first towards the beach. Jasper stood up (wrong) so that

  the canoe wobbled (wrong), and tried to hop onto the

  beach rather than step into the water. His back toe caught

  on the way over, plunging his front leg thigh-deep into the

  water. His hands went down to catch himself, and he

  splashed in face-first.

  “Ow!” He came up, spluttering, water dripping off his

  face. “I got all wet.” He looked around. “Oh no, I lost my

  shoe!”

  I picked up the paddle and gave another steering

  stroke, this time maneuvering the canoe parallel to the

  beach. When I heard the bottom scrape ground, I jumped

  out. Jasper was splashing around, looking for his rubber

  3

  The Girl Across the Water

  shoe, which was floating nearby but quickly bobbing away.

  I dragged the canoe up onto the beach.

  “Got it?” I asked.

  He retrieved his shoe and sloshed out of the lake, far

  wetter than he’d have been if he’d just stepped in to begin

  with. His surfer shorts, now soaking, clung to his bulging

  stomach and legs. “Wait,” he said, “I think I cut my toe on

  a rock.”

  If ever there was a twenty-second episode that

  completely summed up Jasper, that was it.

  He had to take off his lifejacket to get a look at his

  toe, so
while he checked it out (not cut), I gratefully took

  off my own lifejacket and dropped it into the canoe. It was

  still early in the day, but the air was already hot. At some

  point, a swim was in order. I wanted to swim to the where

  the cliff rose up, to see if the water was deep enough for

  jumping.

  But first, exploring the island. “Come on,” I said.

  Jasper followed, shuffling his foot back into his shoe

  and then stopping again to empty it of pebbles. I looked

  around. Now that we were on the island, I estimated its

  size to equal about three backyards, although the dense

  foliage of the slope made it hard to tell. The beach was

  roughly thirty feet by twenty, covering the skinny end of

  the island, and the rest was all bush that I could barely see

  into ten feet. I headed towards it now, searching for some

  way to penetrate in. There were no obvious openings.

  Pressing my shoulders into a gap, I hoisted some thin tree

  branches out my way. Plants and twigs scraped my calves

  4

  The Girl Across the Water

  as I pushed in. I turned to say to Jasper, “Stay far enough

  back so those branches don’t snap back in your face—”

  “Ow!” he squawked.

  We pressed on.

  The foliage was thick, and I was getting scratched all

  over. It would have been better if we’d kept the lifejackets

  on.

  “This is hard,” Jasper whined. “Hey, maybe we

  should’ve brought the paddle to bushwhack.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea, but I didn’t wanted to turn

  back, not before seeing if there was easy way to the top of

  the slope for cliff-jumping. Finally the trees thinned out and

  we made our way, legs so scratched that there was no

  point in trying to guard them any more, through low,

  scrubby undergrowth. As the sun beat down on us, sweat

  began to seep into my shirt. The smell of greenery filled the

  air. Cedar, ferns, salal bushes…

  “Are those stinging nettles?” Jasper asked.

  I stopped and looked around. “No.”

  We were in a tiny clearing, but ahead of us, the

  trees seemed thicker and more tangled than ever. I walked

  on and tried to peer through the branches, but they were

  as dense as a jungle.

  “Come on,” I said, “Let’s go back and see if we can

  walk around the shore.”

  5

  The Girl Across the Water

  We made our way back down the slope, getting

  slapped by branches and scratched by razor-sharp leaves

  on the way, before emerging onto the beach. I went to

  check out the far side of the island. The beach came to an

  abrupt end where jagged rocks rose up from the water to

  the slope. “Nothing,” I called back, aware of a vague feeling

  of disappointment. The island had looked more exciting

  from shore ― the kind of place you’d send Morse code

  signals to if you were a kid. “Never mind,” I said, “let’s go

  for a swim.”

  “Um… is it okay if we go back and swim near the

  cabin? I’m getting kinda hungry. Do you think Dad has

  lunch ready?”

  I gritted my teeth against the word ‘ Dad.’ I was the

  only person who should be allowed to call him that.

  But Jasper’s whining was beginning to grate on my

  nerves, and it occurred to me that a swim by myself might

  be peaceful while he went off snacking. I nodded in reply,

  and we put our lifejackets back on.

  Jasper climbed into the bow and sat there, ready to

  go, until I explained that I had to push the canoe out

  befor e he got in and weighed it down. We finally got it

  sorted out — I pushed the canoe into the water and held it

  still while Jasper climbed in, then I dragged the stern

  around, gave it a shove, and hopped in.

  As I pushed away from the island, I turned around to

  take one last look, and almost dropped the paddle.

  Sticking out from the thick foliage was a girl’s head

  and shoulders. She looked about eight or nine years old,

  6

  The Girl Across the Water

  with shoulder-length, brown hair pulled into braids at the

  sides of her head. Her eyes were dark and fierce, and they

  glared at me as she held her finger up to her lips. The

  message was clear: ‘ Don’t tell.’

  And then she disappeared.

  My whole body jerked. I blinked a few times, letting

  the canoe drift around.

  “Hey, Paul?” Jasper asked. “Uh, I think we’re

  drifting...”

  My heart beating in staccato, I gave myself a shake

  and began to paddle again. Had I really just seen that?

  I looked back one more time. There was nothing

  there. But then, after a second or two, the face poked out

  once more, eyes still intense and glaring. This time, she

  pointed: you.

  Me, what?

  She disappeared again.

  Dumbly, I turned and paddled away, like I’d been

  ordered to leave and was obeying like a zombie. Well, a

  zombie with its heart going like a jackhammer. As I slid the

  paddle through the slippery water, the reason I gave myself

  for not going back to investigate was that I’d have to

  explain it to Jasper, whereas the girl’s message had been

  clear: don’t tell.

  But really, I think the reason I paddled away so

  quickly was that I was completely spooked. The girl was

  creepy-looking, almost surreal. What had I just seen?

  7

  The Girl Across the Water

  Chapter 2

  I maneuvered the canoe so it butted up parallel to

  the shore, and this time Jasper stepped out successfully,

  even helping me to drag the boat up the gravely incline

  before running off to see if lunch was ready.

  I wasn’t hungry, however. I was spooked.

  If I hadn’t seen her that second time, I’d have

  thought I’d imagined her. Who was she? Was she even

  real? She had to be… except that there hadn’t been another

  boat.

  Could she have swum there? I gazed back toward

  the island. A really good swimmer could make it from

  shore, but she had looked about eight years old, and

  besides, her hair seemed dry and neat. And even if she was

  an amazing swimmer, where could she have swum from?

  There were only two other cabins in the middle of

  these thick woods: an uninhabited one way up near the top

  of the lake, and our neighbor’s, a few minutes down the

  8

  The Girl Across the Water

  lake. The realtor had told us that the neighbors were

  another divorced-dad-with-kids doing the summer-escape

  thing. We hadn’t had time to meet them yet. And even if

  she was with them… what parent would let their kid swim

  out so far by themselves?

  The message had been clear, though: don’t tell.

  Don’t tell whom? Parents? Authorities?

  I felt guilty, knowing I was about to break an

  intractable childhood code: ‘ don’t tell the parents’, but I

  figured I had to find out if one of the neighbor�
�s kids had

  gone missing. This could be serious. What if she tried to

  swim back and drowned? Then it would be my fault. Plus,

  her parents might be looking for her right now, going nuts

  with worry.

  “Hey Jasper,” I called. He emerged from the cabin,

  followed by my dad.

  “Lunch isn’t for another hour,” Jasper said with a

  mournful-puppy expression, like he might starve to death

  before then.

  Dad laughed. “We’ll barbecue some hotdogs. That

  okay with you, Paul?”

  Before I could answer, Jasper piped up, “Oh, yeah!”

  Dad ruffled Jasper’s hair, making me tense up. This whole

  scene was way too buddy-buddy, and it was making me

  lose my appetite.

  “And then I thought we could go for a hike,” Dad

  said. “Check out the area. We haven’t done that yet.”

  9

  The Girl Across the Water

  “A hike?” Jasper asked, his smile disappearing and

  eyes widening. “Is it far?”

  I met Dad’s eyes, and we both smiled, trying not to

  laugh. Friends again.

  “What?” Jasper asked, his gaze darting back and

  forth between me and Dad. “What? Is it far? Is it?”

  Dad said nothing, but gave me a wink over the top

  of Jasper’s head. There ― he was my dad.

  “I was thinking of going to say ‘hi’ to the neighbors,”

  I told them. “You wanna come?”

  “I guess we should go pay them a visit,” Dad said.

  “We’ve been here a couple days already. What do you say

  we go after lunch? Make it part of the hike?”

  “Uh, I think I’d… better go now.” I didn’t know how

  to explain it. “In case they go out for the afternoon or

  something. Don’t want to miss them.”

  “Well, okay. Tell them I say ‘hi’ and that we’ll all

  drop by sometime soon. Or have a barbecue together,

  something like that.”

  “You coming?” I asked Jasper. “It’ll kill an hour.”

  He walked down the porch steps, but didn’t go any

  farther. “Uh, I think I’ll just sweep up around here.”

  “You sure? I could use the company.”

  10

  The Girl Across the Water

  “Yeah… well…” He grabbed the broom that was

 

‹ Prev