Girl Across the Water
Page 3
the…
Think rationally, I told myself. Last time you got all
spooked, it was just a raccoon.
And before that, my inner voice reasoned back, it
was a freaky girl alone on an island.
My heart was still trembling, but I resolutely forced
myself to climb the porch steps and not look back into the
dark woods. ‘Pa’ must’ve been out hunting, that was all. I
closed the door behind me and made sure it was locked.
Peering up the gaping staircase to the bedrooms, I
decided that no way was I going up there in the pitch black.
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The Girl Across the Water
I flicked on the hall light and I scurried up the stairs,
shivering as I went. As soon as I opened the door to the
bedroom, Jasper’s snuffling and snorting greeted me. This
time it seemed almost comforting.
I lay back down on my bed, the sound of the
gunshot echoing in my ears.
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The Girl Across the Water
Chapter 4
When I awoke the next morning, my first, hazy
thoughts were of going into town to ask about the girl. The
image of those dark, glaring eyes still burned in my
memory.
Then, as I awakened more fully, I realized there was
something else I needed to do first, and that was to go
back to the island to make sure there really was a girl
there. And if there was, then talk to her. Why was she
there? Did she need any help?
Jasper was lying on his back with his head off at an
angle, snoring away and occasionally murmuring ‘ Dad’.
Who did he mean — my dad, or his?
I pulled on my dark green T-shirt and hopped into
my shorts. Jasper shuffled around in bed, making grunting,
snorting, waking-up noises. Finally cracking an eye open,
he mumbled, “’Time’s it?”
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The Girl Across the Water
“Morning,” I answered. That was as much as time
mattered on vacation. Except to Jasper, who probably
meant was it breakfast, lunch, or dinner?
“It’s sunny out,” I added. “Great day for a canoe
trip. A long one.”
I’d planted the idea well, because by the time Jasper
stumbled down the stairs to join me and Dad for our usual
breakfast of three bowls of cereal each, he eyed me warily,
like he would a snake that might suddenly strike.
“I’ve got some more stuff to finish up today,” Dad
said, setting down his coffee cup. “But I hope this is the
last time I’ll have to work a full day. Then I’ll be able to
spend more time with you two, I promise.”
“That’s okay,” I said. For once, I didn’t mind. I had a
task ahead of me.
“So what are you up to today?” Dad asked. “Any
plans?”
Jasper’s mouth was full, so I quickly answered. “I’m
going canoeing again, but this time I want to go all the way
down to the end of the lake.” I glanced at Jasper, whose
eyes widened over his pursed lips, a couple drops of milk
escaping as he gave a slow, worried chomp. “Probably an
all-day thing,” I added. “You up for it, Jasper? It’s a lot
more work, though. You’ll have to paddle for real.”
He coughed, a few tears leaking out, probably from
an unchewed piece of cereal caught in his throat. “Um, I
was thinking I’d read my comics today. I still haven’t read
the ones Mom bought for me.”
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The Girl Across the Water
Like there was a deadline or something.
Dad shot me the concerned-parent look. “Are you
okay going by yourself? If you want to wait until tomorrow,
I can come with you. Then we can do the paddling, and
Jasper can sit in the middle.”
Poor Jasper ― even Dad could see right through
him.
“Nah, I don’t mind. Actually. it’ll be neat. I’d like to
see how far I can go by myself.”
“You’ll wear your lifejacket, won’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Dad. And the lake’s as still as
glass. Don’t worry.”
Dad smiled, but when he glanced over at Jasper,
concern showed in his eyes again. I could tell he was
wishing that Jasper was sportier.
As I pushed the canoe into the water and hopped in,
Jasper glanced up guiltily from his comic. He had the whole
stack laid out on the picnic table — his day’s work on
display, in case I tried again to convince him to come
canoeing.
I pushed the canoe away from shore with the
paddle, nudging the craft into deeper water, where I could
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The Girl Across the Water
begin to stroke towards the southern end of the lake. It
would be a bit difficult, given Jasper’s clear view of the
island, to suddenly change direction and get there without
him noticing. But with any luck, Archie or Veronica would
be doing something exciting by then.
It wasn’t Jasper’s fault he was a bit of a loser. His
Dad, by all accounts, was a complete screw-up. He’d been
in and out of jail a whole bunch of times, mostly for petty
crimes and stuff — theft, a few failed cons ― and once for
some more serious charges: aggravated assault and armed
robbery. Revo was a drifter, moving from state to state,
apparently showing up at Jasper’s mom’s from time to time
‘wanting to see his son,’ but in fact pressuring Vanessa to
give him money. Being used like that must’ve messed with
Jasper’s head. As soon as my Dad came into the picture,
however, Revo was sent packing any time he showed up
trying to wheedle money. I’m sure he wasn’t too thrilled
about that. Apparently, his visits had grown less frequent.
But even with Revo being such a screw-up,
whenever Jasper talked about him, I could see a longing in
his eyes, like a puppy who’s been kicked but still wants
affection. I guess he craved his dad’s attention, or at the
very least, the ability to show up wanting to see his son
rather than a cash handout. I wondered whether Revo
would dare show up at Vanessa’s now that my Dad was at
the lake with us rather than guarding the home-front.
Vanessa had said the reason she couldn’t come on
vacation with us was that she couldn’t get the time off
work. But really, I think she wanted to give the three of us
some time together. Which was nice of her: it wouldn’t
have been fair for the four of us to be here while my Mom
stayed home, even though Mom was studying for her
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The Girl Across the Water
Masters and probably wouldn’t have wanted to be in some
weird kind of double-family situation.
I glanced back at the cabin, where Jasper sat
hunched over the picnic table, his back to me. Great ― now
I could paddle towards the island unobserved.
With strong, even strokes, I cut straight to the
island. As soon as the canoe touched the ground, I hopped
out and haul
ed it up onto the beach. I took off my
lifejacket, replaced it with my backpack, and stood looking
around for a minute. The island was completely silent. It
seemed like the water didn’t lap at its shore, nor did any
insects click or buzz.
With my runners crunching against the pebbly
ground, I made my way towards the spot where the girl
had appeared. It took a minute or two of scrabbling around
in the tangle of thick brush and small, spiky trees before I
found a gap in the foliage. A small groove, too thin to be
called a path, led through the bushes. I pushed my way
further in, getting scratched and poked by branches again.
After about twenty feet, I reached a small clearing,
although it was barely big enough to lie down in.
Immediately beyond it, the branches closed in again, and
there was no sight of another path leading away. Frowning,
I turned around in a full circle. When I came to a stop, the
girl was standing there, glaring at me.
I shouted and stumbled back. Thick branches caught
me like hands before thrusting me back into the clearing
again.
“Jeez, you scared me!” I put my hand to my chest
and took a few deep breaths, hating the fact that a little girl
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The Girl Across the Water
had just seen me terrified. “Who are you? What are you
doing here?”
She glared but didn’t answer. Was she real? She
looked solid enough. Her hair was still in braids, and she
wore a pale sundress, which seemed out of place on this
tree-tangled island. Even stranger, the dress was spotless.
“This is my island,” she said. “What’re you doing
here?”
“Your island? What are you talking about? It doesn’t
belong to anyone.” I realized I was getting drawn into a
childish argument, and stopped. “Look, that doesn't matter,
I came to see if you’re okay. Who are you?”
She glared at the ground and firmly shook her head:
No. Wrong question.
“Are you with the family down the lake? The one in
the other cabin? Is that your family?
Eyes still lowered, expression fierce, she shook her
head again.
“Well, does anyone know you’re here? Did you run
away from home?”
She looked a little confused this time, like her head
didn’t know which way to move. I took that to mean there
were two different answers: No, no one knows I’m here;
yes, I ran away from home.
Clearly, I wasn’t going to get much out of her
without some kind of bartering tool, so I took off my
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The Girl Across the Water
backpack, set it on the ground, and unzipped it. This made
her take a wary step back.
“Food,” I said. “You want some?”
Although her eyes were still fierce, they brightened
considerably at the sight of what I unpacked: a sandwich,
two granola bars, a candy bar, and two juice boxes. I
handed her the sandwich first. She snatched it from me,
tearing the waxed paper off and wolfing it down like she
hadn’t eaten in days.
“When was the last time you ate?”
The dark eyes looked up from the sandwich, but she
was too busy chewing to answer. I popped a straw into one
of the juice boxes and handed it to her. She grabbed it with
her other hand and sucked greedily, all the time poised
tensely, like she was afraid I’d grab her or something.
I sat down, thinking this might make her relax.
“What’s your name?”
Juice box still at her mouth, she shook her head.
“Look,” I said, “You’re here all alone, and I have to
do something.” Her expression grew wary again. “I’m going
to have to tell someone about you unless you give me
some information.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Tell me how you got here.”
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The Girl Across the Water
Finished with the sandwich, she crumpled up the
waxed paper and threw it at me, still clutching the juice box
in her other hand. “I swam.”
“From where?”
“From the shore, stupid.”
“There’s miles of shore, and it’s all thick woods. How
did you get there?”
“From the road.”
“So… you walked up the road from town?”
She glowered.
“You have to tell me more. Did you run away from
home?”
I could feel the ferociousness of her mood radiating
out and burning at my skin. She sucked the rest of the
juice out the box before tossing it in my direction. “Yes, but
you can’t tell anyone. You have to promise.”
“Well… why did you run away from home?”
This time, when she shook her head, I thought I saw
tears spring to the dark eyes.
“Were you… being abused?” I asked softly.
Her head shook firmly: no.
“Look,” I said, “I have to do something, I can’t just
leave you here.”
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The Girl Across the Water
“No!” she shouted. “You promised not to tell anyone,
you promised!”
I hadn’t promised anything yet, but she looked like
she’d bolt off into the thick bush and disappear if I pointed
this out.
“Then will you come back with me? You can stay at
our cabin until we figure out what to do.”
“No.”
“Look, I can pick you up and toss you into that
canoe if I have to. I’m a lot bigger than you.”
“No, you won’t, you can’t! I’ll jump out, and I won’t
swim, and I’ll drown and it’ll be your fault!”
Her blazing intensity made me believe her. It was
then I realized I hadn’t brought the second lifejacket —
drat, how stupid!
“I’ll come back with the other lifejacket and make
you wear it,” I threatened.
“I’ll rip it off!” she shouted. And I could picture her
doing it: tearing the lifejacket off, jumping over the side of
the canoe, putting her arms by her side with her eyes
tightly shut, letting the dark water suck her down…. She’d
drown rather than go with me.
She stood there, glaring. This girl had a vicious
streak like a wildcat, and it put me in mind of the rusty-
haired girl at the neighbors’ cabin.
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The Girl Across the Water
But she couldn’t be with the neighbors or they’d
have a search party out, combing the whole lake and
woods, wouldn’t they? Or would they hide the fact that
she’d run away?
“Where did you come from?” I asked again.
She squeezed her lips together and began to back
away into the bush.
“Don’t go! I need to know more.”
“You have to promise you won’t tell! ” Her expression
looked fierce and terrified at the same time. “Or I’ll jump
off that cliff and drown!”
“Okay, okay! Do you want me to bring you some
more food?�
�
She thought about this for a moment, twisting her
lips to the side.
Why was this a hard question?
“Okay. But don’t bring anyone else with you. I mean
it! Not even that stupid, fat kid you were with yesterday.”
“All right,” I agreed. “I’ll come back later with some
more food. Do you need anything else? Sleeping bag,
blankets?”
She shook her head.
“You’re sure? A tent?”
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The Girl Across the Water
Rather than answer, she turned and disappeared
into the bushes. It took me a few seconds to react, and I
jumped up to follow her. Or tried to: it was like the bushes
and scrub had snatched her away before closing their
fortress against me. How the heck did she get through this
stuff as if she were made of thin air?
She’s real, she’s real, I told myself. I’d just seen her
demolish a sandwich and a juice box. And apparitions didn’t
do that, did they?
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The Girl Across the Water
Chapter 5
As the canoe glided through the water, I considered
what to do next. On the island, it had made sense to
promise her I wouldn’t tell anyone. However, heading back
to shore was like returning to reality after a strange dream,
and reality threw everything into a different light.
I had to be adult about this, I had to do the right
thing. Should I tell Dad? No― the first thing he’d do would
be to inform the authorities. I had to find out more about
her first. I’d go into town, I decided, and do some digging
around. The first step would be to find out if any missing
persons reports had been filed. And if someone was going
crazy looking for this girl, then of course I’d have to tell the
police. But I’d worry about that if and when it happened.
The canoe touched shore, and I stepped into the
knee-deep water to drag it up the slope, the bottom
scraping loudly against the gravel. Jasper was no longer
sitting at the picnic table, so I headed to the cabin to see if
he was inside.
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The Girl Across the Water
I found him sitting at the kitchen table, flicking
through a handful of photographs. “Oh, hi,” he said, quickly