To Live Forever: An Afterlife Journey of Meriwether Lewis

by Watkins, Andra

  Emmaline swallowed a scream. I slipped us around to the other side of the boat and draped a protective arm around her shoulder. “Let’s mingle, Miss Emmaline. Stay close to me. You’re in my territory now.”

  TWELVE

  I glued my hand to Merry’s and followed him into the crowd of dancers on deck. A jazz band played “Am I Blue” with a not-fast beat, and I thought of Daddy. I imagined him among those white suits, strumming his upright bass and singing. The song was one of Daddy’s favorites. A jam, he called it, even though it was about sad things.

  Merry lifted me into his arms and twirled us around the dance floor. My feet spun above the ground, my own merry-go-round. The Judge’s men were out there, watching us. I threw my head back. Powdery clouds spun with stars as Merry twirled me.

  All the time I’d been longing for Daddy. I couldn’t believe I was on my way, if the Judge’s men didn’t stop us. I peeked around Merry’s head, but I only saw ladies in fancy dresses dancing with men in suits.

  At the far end of the deck, Merry pulled my head close to him and whispered in my ear.

  “Those two are along the railing on the right-hand side. They can’t do anything to us right now.”

  He dipped me close to the floor, and the wind whipped my hair. A dance with Merry was the best playground ever, but his eyes were serious when I popped up.

  “Don’t look, but there’s a life boat hanging along the railing, about half-way down the upper deck. Head that way.”

  “But what if I can’t follow you?”

  “I won’t let go of your hand, Emmaline. I promise.” He dipped me again, and I almost smiled. When I came close to his face, he kept talking. “Those cretins haven’t figured out where the boat is yet, but they will. I’m sure they’ll block our approach.”

  “How will we trick them?”

  “We’ve got to make a run for it now, Emmaline. Climb in, crouch low and hang on. It’ll take a few seconds for the boat to fall into the river. Brace for it.”

  I wanted to turn my head to see where the boat was. Merry was being so good to me. I needed to get my part right. But all I could think of was Daddy.

  I closed my eyes and nodded along with the beat of “Blue.” It made him closer to me.

  “I’m coming to you, Daddy.”

  My mumbled words were lost as the red wheel of the boat turned faster. The steamboat drifted into the night. I held on to Merry as he worked us to the edge of the dancers and sang with the last chorus of “Am I Blue.” Merry dipped me again. Once and up. Twice and up.

  The third time, he put my head close to the deck and gripped me in the basket of his arms. With the dancers as a shield, he kept our bodies hidden and moved toward the escape boat. In three steps, he had us in the side walkway and set me on my feet.

  A white boat hung from a bar close to the ceiling. Merry climbed the railing and rustled the cover. Without explaining, he picked me up and pushed me over the wooden side. I flew over the Mississippi, before the world went dark, and my knees hit the bottom of the boat. When I peeked over the edge, Merry stood on top of the railing, ready to throw one leg up and climb in with me.

  “Stop!” A deep voice called from the front of the steamboat. “A thief on the lifeboat! Stop the music! He’s stealing the lifeboat!”

  “Em, hang on tight.” Merry had one leg over the side, the boat tilting like a scary carnival ride as he slid his other foot off the railing. I kept my head down while the boat swung back and forth. The cover lifted away and Merry pulled himself into the boat with me. People raced along the deck while we tick-tocked over the dark river. I held onto the side as hard as I could.

  “Stay down!” Merry shouted. He worked a lever with one hand, but one of the men jumped up and grabbed the side of the boat. The motion caused Merry to stumble, and his hand slipped off the lever as he fell. When he came up, Merry balled up his fist and popped the man in the face. His nose crunched and started to bleed, but he threw one arm over the side of the boat and tried to pull his legs inside. With his other arm, he reached for me, but I slid along the bottom of the boat to get behind Merry. I felt the man’s fingers brush against my leg as he swiped at me again, and I kicked at his hands.

  He yelped and shouted, but his hands kept grabbing for me.

  I crawled into the back corner, but the man spat mean words as he gripped the side of our boat. With the toe of his boot, Merry kicked the man’s hands until they were sticky with blood, over and over. I ducked my head between my legs to hide my eyes and ears. Finally, the man cursed and let go, and the boat lurched again. I sat up and looked over the side, my fingers running along the bloody bits he left. His body fell away, knocking over some of the people who were watching from the deck.

  “And stay out!” I shouted. We rocked harder as Merry lowered our boat to the water, ping-ping-pinging against the side of the steamboat.

  A man in a different uniform shouted through the microphone from the front of the dancers and the quiet band. “I am the captain of this vessel, and I command you to stop!”

  Another hand sailed over the railing and grabbed my shoulder. Angry brown eyes locked onto mine a split second before my whole world fell. Sound roared in my ears. I screamed as the boat twisted into the black night and braced myself for whatever came next.

  I was scared, but being with Merry was more fun than I could ever remember. At least, since Daddy. It was like I was alive again. Life was an adventure. As the wind beat against me, I squeezed Merry’s leg to keep from falling out of the boat.

  “Hang on, Emmaline! Hang on!” Merry shouted. As we spun into space, my arms hurt, but I didn’t break my grip. I was too young to die, and I couldn’t die until I saw Daddy again.

  It wouldn’t be right.

  THIRTEEN

  Emmaline screamed, and I steeled myself for the consequences of doing a belly flop into the Mississippi in a wooden rowboat. The impact knocked me sideways, and I launched over the side, force-fed river water. Like the time I surfed the falls of the Columbia River in a single canoe. My men stood on the shore and watched me. Ready to pull my drowned body from a watery tomb.

  I showed them.

  Me and my daredevil life.

  When I breached the surface, I was turned around, disoriented. I kept my head low, only my eyes above the water, spinning my body with my legs and feet. Lights from the boat combed the river, but I dove when they shone close to me.

  “Merry!”

  Emmaline’s call ricocheted off the water. I ignored the voices yelling from the boat and pumped my arms through the current. Always was a good swimmer, but the Mississippi was fast-moving. My chest groaned by the time my hand knocked into the side of our boat. I dragged myself over the side and flopped onto a middle seat.

  In back, Emmaline was hunched on the floor, trembling. With all the energy I could muster, I reached out and pulled her closer to me. A spotlight blinded me as I groped for the oars along the bottom, my fingers finally encountering a smooth piece of wood sticking out. Energized, I grabbed it.

  People shouted for us to stop from the deck of the steamboat. One female voice pleaded for me to turn myself in, like I was the one who’d been shooting up the Quarter. Chasing innocent little girls. People were hypocrites. No justice to be had in New Orleans for either of us.

  I rowed our boat as fast as I could through the wake of the steamboat in our creep downriver. Lights flashed behind us, scouring our wake. If I applied myself, I might out-maneuver a steamboat, especially going with the current.

  “Emmaline, stay close. Sit in front of me and hold on, okay?”

  Without a word, she obeyed. Her wet hands gripped the edge of the bench, and her jaw was firm. Stubborn. She turned her face downriver and closed her eyes.

  I jerked the oars and our craft picked up speed, drifting away from the crowded steamboat. In another lifetime, I’d run a boat in the dark. Cla
rk and me, we’d help the men pole up the Missouri after sunset when we ran behind. I could still feel the water grab at the muscles of my back through the end of my pole. I thought I could do anything.

  Lack of opportunity robs us of every skill eventually. I gritted my teeth and hoped I hadn’t been away too long.

  I dug into the water and tried to recall that place. Montana. Deserted. Unpredictable. The mournful cry of a coyote, off in the distant dark. I pushed New Orleans out of my mind and relaxed into my body’s memory, the graceful motion of back and forth.

  Adrenaline. It was always a good drug in a tight place. It made my hands sure as I yanked the oars. The noise of the party boat faded, replaced by the click of paddles and spray of water. The lights dimmed behind us. When I looked back, no Wilkinson stooges were on our tail. I stopped rowing and pumped one hand over my head.

  “Woo-hoo! We lost them, Em! I haven’t had this much fun in...well, a long time.”

  I waited for her smile but instead Emmaline tugged my sleeve and pointed upriver, her face lit by a faint blue glow. “Lights, Merry. Behind us.” I studied them with her. “Police.”

  “It’s one boat, looks like.”

  “Do you think they’re looking for us?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Emmaline hugged herself, her eyes wide. “It’s the Judge. I know it. He’s going to catch us.”

  I turned the boat a sharp left, shifting our path toward the northern shoreline. Light poured into the river from concrete piers and docks, but I kept us just beyond its reach. We scrolled by ocean-going vessels and the metallic snarl of industry. Everywhere, a mechanical hum.

  I needed a dark place, somewhere I could ditch the boat. Maybe tie it up or sink it to keep it from being found for a little while. Long enough for us to identify another means of getting up the Mississippi.

  The police lights loomed larger. Commotion. Shouted commands. Static.

  I turned my attention back to shore. An abandoned factory site floated into view, at least one warehouse behind a rusted chain link fence.

  I worked the boat behind a ruin of a dock, weaving through its broken piers until we were close enough to shore for me to pull in the oars. I turned Em to face me, motioning with my free hand. “You see that concrete platform?”

  “I see it.” She fingered her stack of letters and chewed her lip.

  “Good. That’s where we’re headed. If we get separated, can you swim?”

  Emmaline nodded. Hesitant. Fearful, but willing. In my experience, willingness is usually the best part of bravery.

  “Okay. You jump in ahead of me. Swim to that platform. Straight to it. I’ll be right beside you. We’re both going to make it in one piece.”

  She held out her father’s letters. “What about these, Merry? They can’t get wet.”

  I grabbed them from her and put them under my leather hat. Best I could do.

  Emmaline took one deep breath and splashed into the river. I dove in after her. When I came up for air, she bobbed beside me. Arms like propellers, we cut through the current. She gasped and sputtered, but never sank. That little wisp of a girl fought her way to the concrete edge without any help from me.

  My hand grazed slime. I grabbed the back of Em’s dress and flung her, coughing, onto the platform. I lifted myself out of the river and stretched my shaky limbs out beside her. Numb, I vomited water from my lungs and listened to the night. Our abandoned craft nodded, still sheltered behind the broken pier. A scold. I should’ve tied it up to keep the current from dragging it to open water.

  We wasted get-away time, lying there.

  I rolled over and shook Emmaline’s shoulder. She spewed a little of the river and lay on her back, staring up at the sky. Her pale face glowed in the waning moonlight. She shifted her eyes to me.

  “When I was little, I used to crawl out on the roof with Daddy and look at the stars. These stars. Do you think he sees the same sky in Nashville, Merry?”

  “I’m sure he does. It isn’t that far.”

  A whisper. “Do you really think we’ll find him?”

  I sat up to block the sky, to make her look at me. Like the power behind her eyes could make me succeed. Could a scrap of girl redeem me? I touched her hand. “Em, we’ll find him. I know it.”

  She scrabbled at my hat. “At least, we have his letters. They can tell us where he— aaaahhhh!” She keened. Shrill. Piercing.

  The river wreaked watery havoc with the stack of paper. Bits of it had already torn away, and when she tugged at the red string, the ink bled in her hands. Stuck to her fingers, stained black with globs of ink where her father’s words once were. Her face crumpled in disbelief as she covered it with her papery hands and sobbed. “You ruined Daddy’s letters. You ruined them.”

  Sodden bits of paper swirled through my hands. The few scraps that stuck to my skin were blank. Erased. Just like my journal in this infernal place. How would we find her father now?

  I dragged a hand over my face. Tried to think. What could I ever say to make her glad she ran?

  “Em, I’m sorry. Look at me. I did the best I could, but we didn’t have anything to keep them dry. My hat was our best shot.”

  “Now, we’ll never be able to find him. We don’t even know his address. You messed up everything.” Her slender body heaved.

  “Em, stop crying and look at me. Please.”

  She dragged her hands away from her face. Her eyes were almost swollen shut.

  “I promise you, Em. We will find your daddy. Even without the letters, we’ll find him. We know he’s in Nashville, and we’ll figure out the rest when we get there. Everything will be all right. Don’t you worry.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have run away from home, especially with somebody who can’t even keep Daddy’s letters safe. I—”

  Blue lights strobed closer. Lit up the edge of our perch. “Em, we can’t stay here any longer. I know you’re tired and upset. I’m walloped, too. But we have to keep moving. That means getting out of New Orleans.”

  “But where can we hide?” She picked flecks of paper from her fingers. Squinted at their blankness and swatted them away.

  “We have to get out of here. Now. If those guys are looking for us, they’re going to realize we jumped ship. They’ll swarm both sides of the river. We’ve got to get out of the open.” I sat back to study our surroundings. “If we push upriver on land, we can get further, maybe in a way they won’t expect. Find another boat to swipe.”

  Emmaline closed her eyes. A tear slid into her mouth. “I’m so tired, Merry. The Judge is never going to give up, and I think my mother will help him. He isn’t used to not having his way. He will chase me until he finds me. Maybe even until I die.

  ”The Judge is not going to get you. Not as long as I’m around.” I hugged her to me and willed her to believe.

  In me.

  “Now, stop all this claptrap and get a move on. There’s an opening in the fence. Just there. We can both slip through and find another way out before they realize we’ve been here.”

  With one last glance at our boat, I pushed myself to stand and dragged Emmaline up beside me. The concrete platform gave way to an uneven shoreline strung with a ribbon of fence. Beyond a tear in chain link, an asphalt parking lot yawned toward four warehouse buildings. Their bulk sprawled all the way to the water.

  I pushed Emmaline up the slick surface ahead of me and made sure she had a firm foothold before advancing another step. We shimmied through the fence and gained the parking lot inside the barrier. I pointed to the last warehouse. “There. See? A door. Looks like it’s open. We need to make for it, Em.”

  “How?”

  “Run across the lot. We’ll be exposed, but it’s dark here.”

  A voice crackled through a bull horn. It was distorted by distance and lapping water, but it meant one thing: the police found o
ur boat. I nudged Emmaline. “Hurry, Em.”

  “But what if we can’t find a boat with a motor? You can’t row a boat all the way upriver. I may be a girl, but even I know the current is too strong.”

  Exasperated, I tugged her arm and started across the macadam. “Why does that matter?”

  “Well, you said couldn’t drive a car, so does that mean you can’t drive a motorboat?”

  Smart girl.

  “Let’s just say I’m better with boats. I understand them. I—”

  “Sure. Right.”

  “You just leave that to me to figure out when we get there.”

  We huffed to the shadow of the warehouse in a couple of minutes. Light guided us to a door open just enough for us to slip through. I dragged it shut as another horn blew. Police lights floated into my sight lines, out on the water. A whoop split the air.

  The door thudded like a marble slab on top of a tomb. Encased in gloom, I whispered, “They found our boat. We’ve got no time, Em. Let’s move.”

  FOURTEEN

  When Merry pushed me into the warehouse, my lungs burned, and my eyes blurred. I slid through the crack in the sliding door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The warehouse was one ginormous room. My voice talked back to me even when I whispered.

  Merry shut the door, but I still saw blue lights in my mind. They were close, so close I could almost see that bulldog chin and smell cigar smoke. The Judge. He was out there, and I was trapped here with a man who destroyed my only connection to Daddy. How could he get me all the way to Nashville when he couldn’t even keep Daddy’s letters safe?

  I felt with my hand for a place to hide. Sheets hovered over everything. I tugged a corner, and a whole piece pulled away in my hands.

  A tall clown head with a pointy hat smiled down at me. Purple and green and gold sparkled everywhere. Bells tinkled from the ends of the clown’s hat. Mardi Gras floats. I wanted to jump up on the platform and bat them with my hands. When I heard Merry’s voice, I realized I had.