by Jody Kihara
“Dad, she’s still signaling!” I yelled. “And I think her
flashlight is about to die — we have to go get her!”
Grimly, Dad took Jasper’s lifejacket and put it on.
Even though Jasper was on the large side, it didn’t fit Dad
well; he could snap the lower strap shut, but not the chest
one.
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“Is it rated for adults?” I asked.
“It’ll have to do,” Dad said.
I was kind of worried, but reassured by the fact
Dad’s weight couldn’t be a whole lot more than Jasper’s.
“Let’s go,” he said, and behind us, the wind gave a
howl.
“I don’t think you should go!” Jasper wailed. “If
there’s someone out there, they can just wait till the
storm’s past, right? They won’t die or anything!”
“But Jasper, she’s signaling!” I pointed out.
Jasper was still making protests as Dad and I got
into the canoe. Dad sat in the stern and I sat in the bow
with the flashlight gripped between my knees. Not that it
would help us much: it could only shine about ten feet
ahead in the darkness. I had to hope the Girl would keep
signaling, or else we could be in real trouble trying to find
our way there.
We paddled in the direction of the island, but the girl
must not have realized we’d need her to guide us; either
that, or her flashlight had died. The wind was blowing hard
and the waves on the lake were choppy and irregular,
buffeting the side of the canoe and making it rock.
“Can you see where we’re going?” Dad called out.
“Yes!” I lied. Someone was on that island, and they
needed our help, so we had to try. But the canoe rocked
harder, and I could feel water sloshing around my feet as
waves splashed over the sides.
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“Paul, this isn’t good! I think we should turn back!”
“We’re almost there!” I said.
“What? I can’t hear you!”
I turned around. “I’m sure we’re almost there!” But
the truth was, I could barely see the island. It suddenly
occurred to me, how would we see the beach? If we didn’t
guide the canoe to it… we could crash on the jagged rocks.
“Paul, I think we’re going to have to turn back!
Whoever is there, they’re safer on the island than in this
canoe.” And then we both realized― “Dammit!” Dad cursed.
“The lifejacket!”
How could we have been so stupid? We’d been in
such a rush and occupied with the fact Dad’s lifejacket was
missing that we’d completely forgotten, we had no spare
lifejacket for a passenger! And there was no way we could
put a person into the canoe without a lifejacket, not at
night and in this crazy weather.
“You’re right!” I yelled over the howl of the wind.
“We can’t take them anyway!”
“Okay, I’m turning us around. They’ll just have to
wait the night out and we’ll go get them in the morning, or
phone for help.”
It was as Dad was turning the canoe that I heard it,
faintly and between gusts of wind — the sound of an
engine.
“Dad, do you hear that?”
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“What?” he yelled back.
But I didn’t turn around again, because I wanted to
paddle as hard as I could. The cabin was completely lit up,
so finding our way back wouldn’t be a problem.
Then I heard it again, much clearer, coming from
down the lake — it was the sound of a motorboat. They’re
coming to get the girl! I thought excitedly. Even though it
should have ticked me off that this likely proved this was all
a prank, I was relieved to know The Girl was going to get
help, and that there was no real danger.
The noise grew louder, but the way it reflected off
the water or was carried by the wind made it sound like it
was heading for us rather than the island.
And then, a few seconds later, I made out the shape
in the darkness — the motorboat was bearing straight down
on us! Why didn’t they have a light? All boats had to, at
night. “Dad!” I hollered.
He turned and saw it. “Paul! LIGHT!” he bellowed.
Suddenly clueing in to what he meant, I turned to
shine our flashlight directly at the motorboat, praying
they’d see it in time — it was all we could do, as they were
almost on top of us.
The motorboat made a sharp swerve to starboard,
veering away from shore and towards the island, missing
us by what seemed like ten feet. As it sped away, the huge
wave it cast came our way, ready to hit us side-on, the
worst way possible.
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“Wave!” I yelled, but we didn’t have time to turn the
bow of the canoe.
It took us fully side on, and tossed us. I tried to
jump as I was thrown, so that I wouldn’t be hit by the side
of the canoe as it tipped over. I plunged into the cold water
and the canoe smacked down, the side of it missing my
head by a couple of feet. I shook my head, trying to get
water out of my hair and eyes so I could see. “Dad!” I
yelled, panicked he’d gone under. The flashlight was gone,
and waves kept hitting me - I couldn’t see a thing. “Dad!” I
screamed. If he hadn’t had item to jump, the canoe might
have hit him and he could be unconscious―
“Dad!” I yelled again, swimming towards the stern.
My lifejacket was bunched up under my arms, preventing
me from swimming properly, and I was tempted to rip it
off. But I knew better, especially in the dark with the high
waves around me. After taking a few mouthfuls of water as
waves hit me in the face, I grabbed for the canoe,
spluttering and trying to hang on to the slippery side as I
looked around for Dad.
With a gasp, he came up. “Paul!”
“Dad!”
“You okay? Thank God!”
“Where were you? I couldn’t see you!”
“Under the canoe. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” I coughed. “Just freezing.”
“Daaaaad!” came Jasper’s wail from shore. “Paul!”
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“We need to turn the canoe over!” I yelled to Dad.
“Forget it! Just swim.”
He was right — the canoe was too unwieldy, and
with the waves so high it wasn’t worth the risk of staying in
the cold water any longer. We swam back to shore, our
lifejackets making it much harder work than it should have
been.
Finally we got there. We stumbled out of the lake as
soon as our feet touched ground. Dad was pulling me
along, even though I didn’t need his help, and Jasper was
standing there screaming and crying. “I’m so sorry! I’m so
sorry!”
“Not your fault,” I gasped as we staggered towards
th
e cabin.
“But it is!” Jasper wailed. “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,
it’s my fault! I’m so sorry!” He burst into tears, crying in
toddler-like wails, like one of us had just died or something.
My head was a whirl of shock and adrenalin, so I
didn’t pay much attention to him, figuring it was the usual
Jasper cowardice-and-drama. Dad and I stumbled up the
cabin steps, flinging our lifejackets onto the ground, and
staggered inside. We were soaking, freezing, and shaking.
“Go take a hot shower, right now,” Dad ordered.
“You first,” I wheezed, but he propelled me into the
bathroom.
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Jasper was crying like a two-year-old, I mean really
screaming-crying, and I wished he’d shut up; it was like
having a chainsaw going on in the background.
I tossed my wet clothes onto the bathroom floor and
turned the water on full force. As soon as it ran hot, I got
under the shower, and it felt so good. I had to remind
myself to be quick so that Dad could get in ― otherwise, I
could have stayed there for an hour.
I resolutely shut off the water, wrapped myself in a
towel, and opened the door. Cold air hit me. “Your turn,” I
croaked, but Dad didn’t need to be told — he’d been
waiting right there, and headed straight in as I left. “Put on
your warmest clothes,” he said over his shoulder. Like I
needed to be told. “Jasper, put on the kettle!” he added
before closeting the door.
I ran upstairs and dried myself briskly, wishing the
cabin had heating. Maybe Jasper was building a fire in the
fireplace right now. That would be perfect.
After putting on my one remaining pair of jeans,
then thick socks, two T-shirts and my jacket, I went back
downstairs.
Not only was Jasper not building a fire, the kettle
wasn’t even on. He was lying face down on the sofa,
sobbing his guts out.
“Oh, for God’s sake Jasper!” I snapped. I couldn’t
help it — my adrenalin was up, and Jasper’s uselessness
was like a match tossed onto a tinderbox. “Get up and do
something useful! Why are you never any help in these
situations? All you do is make things worse!”
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This made him sob into the sofa cushions even
harder. “Build a fire or something!” I yelled. “Or at least put
the damn kettle on like Dad said.”
I didn’t think I had the strength to build a fire, so I
put the kettle on and turned the oven on too —that would
heat the kitchen.
“I’m sorry!” At least that’s what it sounded like
Jasper wailed into the cushions. His voice was muffled, but
I thought I identified the words, “It’s all my fault!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked grumpily. I
longed to slump onto the sofa, but Jasper was taking up
the whole thing, and someone really needed to build a fire.
I walked into the dark living room and tossed logs
randomly into the fire, then jammed some newspapers
underneath for kindling. Not wanting spend long getting the
fire going, I broke the entire box of fire starter into cubes
and wedged them in between the logs. Then I lit the
protruding bits of newspaper and flopped down in front of
the fireplace, waiting for the blaze.
Jasper turned his head, making his sniffles more
audible. “I’m so sorry!”
“Stop saying that!” I sighed. “It’s not your fault, but
you’d make things a lot better if you’d help out now.” I
wondered if the motorboat had picked up the girl. I was too
tired to go look out the window, and I likely wouldn’t be
able to see anything anyway.
“But it is my fault!” he insisted in a high whine. “He
said it was just a joke! He said no one would get hurt! But
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you did! You almost drowned! You could have di-i-ied!” His
speech dissolved into sobs again.
I turned my head. “What?”
Jasper continued to sob.
“What did you just say? What joke? Who’s ‘he’?”
Panic, suspicion, and anger bubbled up inside of me… but
mostly suspicion. “Jasper, what are you talking about?”
He kept his eyes shut as he sobbed out, “My dad! He
said it was all just a prank and that he just wanted to shake
things up, but that nothing bad would happen!”
I froze, my eyes wide. Dad came out of the
bathroom, and I yelled, “Dad, go get changed, and get
down here fast!” He took in the scene, frowning, and
obeyed me.
“What are you saying?” I demanded of Jasper. “That
Revo had something to do with this? The whole girl on the
island thing?”
“I’m so-o-o-or-ry!” Jasper wailed again, and I had
the urge to get up and hit him.
“Jasper, stop crying and tell me what this is all
about!”
Dad came down the stairs, in his clothes, but with
his towel still around his neck. He continued to dry his hair,
asking, “What’s going on?”
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The Girl Across the Water
I jumped up. “Ask Jasper! If you can get sense out
of him, that is. apparently Revo was behind all this. And
Jasper knew it!”
“What?” Dad asked incredulously. Mid-toweling his
hair, he stopped moving, and let the towel slip from his
grasp. It fell to the floor.
“Ask him!” I shouted.
Jasper had put his face back in the cushion, and was
sobbing again.
Dad went over and although he put his hand on
Jasper’s arm gently, but is voice was firm. “Jasper, what’s
going on? Is what Paul said true?”
“Oh sure, ask if I’m lying!” I exploded. I’d had
enough of people not believing me.
“Into the kitchen,” Dad ordered. I wasn’t sure at first
if he meant me or Jasper, but seeing as he was hauling
Jasper up by the arm, I guessed he meant all of us.
He sat Jasper in a chair and pulled his own right in
front of it so that he could hold Jasper by the arms and give
him a quick shake. “Jasper, pull yourself together! If you
have something to tell us, you need to do it right now.”
Jasper looked down at the floor, tears still running
down his fat cheeks — he couldn’t face us. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered for about the hundredth time. I felt my blood
begin to boil.
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The Girl Across the Water
Dad and I glanced at each other. Dad seemed to be
keeping his cool, but I could see from his face he was
almost as mad as I was.
“From the beginning,” he ordered.
Jasper gave a protracted sniff, and when he began
speaking, his words came out in a babyish voice. “He said it
was just a prank. I mean, it was just to scare you a little,
but he said he had to because you made Mom cut him off,
> and if he couldn’t get any money then he’d have to go
away and he might never see me again! ” His words
dissolved into sobs again.
Dad an I exchanged glances again, this time worried
ones. This was all some plot of Revo’s… to get money?
“Jasper,” Dad demanded, “How was he going to use
this to get money? By scaring Paul? What was his plan?”
“I don’t know,” Jasper wailed. “He wasn’t really
clear. He said something about… shaking things up… and…
and…” He continued to cry. “I guess after the prank then he
was going to ask you for money.”
Dad’s jaw twitched with anger. I knew we were both
thinking the same thing: Revo had gone to jail for some
badly-planned cons in his time, but no plan could be as bad
as this… there had to be more to it. Much, much more.
Jasper wasn’t totally stupid; he probably hadn’t wanted to
know, or had listened to some pack of lies Revo told him,
and had gone along with it out of some screwed-up,
misplaced loyalty.
“So who is the girl?” I asked.
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“She’s the neighbor’s kid,” Jasper said, still crying
and looking at the floor. “It was all a joke. My Dad found
out about the story of the girl in the woods, and she
happened to look just like her and…” The rest got
incoherent.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “So
Revo saw the neighbor kid and… what? How did he get
them to go along with it? A bunch of strangers? And why
was he even here?”
“He knew them already, they’re friends…” Sob, sob,
sob. I thought of the car I’d seen in the neighbor’s
driveway that one time… Revo’s? Was that why Pa had
been so hostile, and why the visitor had stayed hidden?
“Jasper,” Dad said firmly. “Did Revo know about the
will? Did he know I was busying tying up my father’s will
right now?”
My jaw dropped. Whoa. Dad was way ahead of me…
but he was right. Revo wouldn’t put some elaborate plan
together just for one of his usual, petty cash handouts.
He’d have to be after something much bigger. And
Grandfather’s will… that would be big, all right.
Jasper stopped crying and looked up. “What?”
There was no deceit in his eyes, just surprise.
“The will. Did you tell Revo about it?”
