A Strange Little Band

by Judith B. Glad

  Tommy rose to his knees, making Angela let out one of her fire-engine screams when the raft bobbled, just the tiniest bit.

  Sheesh!

  Pretty soon someone else pointed out a dark brown something in the water. Serhilda watched it and its buddy swim by. Maybe this rafting wasn't such a drag after all. She decided to see if she could be the first one to point out something, and leaned over the edge of the raft. Something in the water. Like a snake maybe. A great big snake, big enough to swallow Angela.

  If she didn't actually see one, she'd make one up. Just for Angela.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thea lay relaxed against the side of the raft, half asleep. Sunlight warmed her face, birds sang in the woods along the shore, and the laughter of her family told of their enjoyment. It had been a good Gathering, for the most part. Annie seemed to be mending, at last. That young man, Clay Something-Or-Other, had been good for her. Who'd have thought she'd get interested n fishing. With her fear of water...

  She heard a splash, louder than a fish would make. Then a shriek. She whipped her head around, looking for the source of the sounds.

  Someone was in the water beside the middle raft. Her first thought was that one of the older children had jumped in, as hers used to do, to swim alongside the rafts for a ways. But who was screaming? Not Angela...

  No, it was Jennifer. She was crouched at the side of the raft, holding out her arms and yelling for all she was worth.

  A small arm appeared in the middle of the splashes, a dark head, child-sized. Disappeared under swirling water. "Oh, my God!" Thea whispered. It was happening again. She would drown. Just like Annie. Like Calvin.

  Memory replaced the present....

  Only three children played at the water's edge. The narrow sandy beach was dented with small footprints, furrowed where childish engineers had dug a canal, built a dam. Nearby Annie's red plastic bucket lay half in the water. Beyond the quiet eddy, the white water of the Sandy River flowed noisily over and around rounded boulders.

  "Annie? Where's Annie?"

  Sandy shrugged. "I don't know, Thea. She was here a few minutes ago." She went back to diapering her baby.

  Thea hardly heard her. She was scanning the scattered trees and brush, looking for the bright flash of Annie's yellow playsuit. She called again and again, while the other adults, alarmed now, helped her search. With each call, she became more frightened.

  Annie was fearless. The white water didn't scare her, no matter how often Thea told her to stay close to shore.

  She stumbled along the shore, feet bruised by the big cobbles, bare arms scratched by stiff shrubs at the water's edge. "Annie! Annie, where are you?"

  Her voice was lost in the bellow of the creek, narrower now, running between rocky banks.

  A shout came from farther downstream. Thea ran through the trees, through branches that whipped her face, left more stinging scratches along her bare arms. She burst from a clump of brush to see Stan, Sandy's husband, holding a limp and dripping form.

  Annie was unresponsive, her face bruised. Before Thea could snatch her from Stan, he had laid her on the ground and was breathing into her tiny mouth, pumping her small chest between his big hands. Thea fell to her knees and reached for her child, but someone caught her, held her away while Stan worked.

  Sandy stood behind her husband, holding her own baby, and saying, over and over, "Wake up. Wake up. Oh, please, wake up!"

  Thea had no voice for pleas or prayers. She clutched at the strong arms that held her, never looking away from Annie's face, all but hidden under Stan's.

  She is so small. So very small. Oh, God, what if she's...

  Annie's legs suddenly spasmed, then began kicking vigorously. Her thin little arms flailed. His big hands still wrapped around her chest, Stan sat back on his heels. "She's breathing," he said, almost a whisper. "Her heart's going. Thank God!"

  Sandy gently laid a towel over Annie. It flew off again as Annie continued to kick wildly. She hiccupped, coughed, and began crying, a pitiful, thin little cry.

  Thea pulled free from the restraining arms, crawled to her daughter. "Annie. Oh, Annie."

  Stan held her off when she would have picked her daughter up and hugged her tightly. "We need to get medical attention. Sandy, you take over here. I'll drive Thea and Annie into town. Meet us at the hospital."

  Thea never knew how they got her into the station wagon, nor did she remember anything of the journey to the nearest hospital, twenty-odd miles away...

  * * * *

  Ward just happened to see Joey go over the side. In an instant he'd rolled into the water. With a few quick strokes, he reached the boy, who was still threshing around, still gasping. Ward grabbed an arm, used it to pull the boy close to his chest. "Stop it. I've got you."

  Another gasp, then a yell, choked off when Joey coughed. Ward wrapped both arms around him, felt for the bottom with his feet. Wouldn't you know, the kid would pick the deepest part of the river to fall into. He kicked his way toward shore, was soon able to stand, leaning into the gentle current. "Damn it, Joey, hold still. You're not hurt."

  Jennifer was still screaming, but it sounded like Eric was trying to shut her up. Ward turned Joey, who was now clawing and twisting, in an attempt to free himself, to face him. "If you don't stop trying to get away, I swear I'll drop you," he growled. The boy went dead still, eyes wide, mouth open. "That's right. Just hang on. It looks like your dad's on his way."

  Tommy and Hildy were paddling for all they were worth, inexpertly, but giving it everything they had. Eric was holding Jennifer, casting quick looks over his shoulder at Ward. He looked scared, but in control.

  As the raft slowly approached, Ben and Frank edged theirs close to it, and added their momentum to the kids' efforts. Ward reached out and caught a rope along one sidetube when the raft got close enough. He let it carry them closer to shore. "Grab hold of that branch," he told Hildy. "Hold steady."

  She did, while Ward made his way to where the water was just above his waist. He pried Joey's hands loose from his shirt and tossed him into the raft. "Shut up." he said, when Joey yelled again as his mother's arms closed around him. "Where's his life vest, Eric?"

  Eric opened his mouth, but Jennifer beat him to it. "You don't have to yell at him. He's just a little boy."

  "He's a little boy with fools for parents. Where the hell is his life jacket?"

  Jennifer sputtered.

  Eric leaned past his wife. "Look, Ward, there's no need to make a fuss. Joey's fine. There was no need for you to go after him. I'd have pulled him in."

  "Where's his life vest?"

  "He was so hot and uncomfortable, I let him take it off," Jennifer said. She held her son close, stroking his hair. "You said the water wasn't deep."

  "Didn't you hear what I said? That no kid under twelve was to be without flotation of some sort?"

  "Well, of course I did. You said it loud enough. But I'm Joey's mother, and I believe I know what my child needs better than you do."

  "Eric, did you know she'd let him take off the jacket?"

  Eric hesitated, then nodded. "I was right here. He was in no danger."

  Ward opened his mouth, then shut it again long enough to grind his teeth. "Fine. Get out." He motioned to the shore.

  "What?"

  "I organized this float trip. That means I make the rules. If you're not willing to abide by them, you can't participate. Get out. We'll pick you up on the way back."

  "You're kidding."

  "I am not kidding. Take your kids and climb out onto the bank." He looked again. Yes, Angela and Norman had their jackets untied.

  Eric bristled, then deflated. "Fasten your life jackets, boys. You too, Angela."

  "But you--"

  "Jennifer, I have no intention of sitting here in the hot sun for two hours. If the kids get too hot, we'll splash them with water."

  "But--"

  Eric looked down at Ward. "That suit you?"

  "As long as they keep 'em fa
stened. Hildy, Tommy, you two look like you've got some sense. If those kids don't keep their life jackets fastened, you let me know, okay?"

  "Ward, doggone it--"

  "Eric, you used to have some sense. Not any more, so I'm giving the responsibility of keeping the passengers in this raft safe to the folks who will follow orders." Not allowing Eric a chance to say any more, he struck out toward his raft, which by now was a good hundred yards down the river.

  How the hell did a son of Ben's get so damn dumb?

  Annie was sick. Just sick. Seeing poor little Joey thrashing about in the river brought back all the mental images that had haunted her this past year. There had been a broken water lily stem twisted around one of Calvin's chubby little legs, floating pads torn and displaced. He had struggled for his life. He had tried to escape his watery trap, but to no avail.

  If she had heard the splashing, she might have saved him. But she had been inside, gossiping and laughing with the other women. Trusting Walter to watch her darling, precious son.

  I hate him. He let my baby die.

  The mantra no longer comforted, No longer alleviated the pain. No longer let her forgive herself.

  She had been equally responsible for Calvin's safety. She was equally at fault. She had helped to kill her son.

  When her mother's hand reached for hers, she grabbed it and held on for dear life.

  "Thea!" Gran's cry broke her self-castigation. Annie's mother huddled against the rounded side of the raft, face buried in her hands and knees pulled tightly into her chest.

  "Great god!" her father crawled across the center of the raft, took his wife in his arms. "It's okay, Thea. Joey's all right. He's safe."

  Gran crawled across the raft. She pushed between Annie's parents. "Thea," she said, her voice sharp. "Thea!" When there was no response, she swung her arm and slapped her daughter's face.

  Shocked, Annie cried, "Gran!"

  Thea turned into her husband's arms. The awful blankness was gone, replaced by an expression of such unutterable grief that Annie wanted to cry without knowing what she was weeping for.

  "Are you back with us, Thea?" Gran said, "or are you still hysterical?"

  Annie stared, wide-eyed, at her parents. "What's wrong, Mom? What--"

  "Flashback," Ward said, from behind her. "It reminded her-- Never mind. She'll be all right. She just needs a minute."

  "She needs to unburden herself, that's what she needs," Gran said.

  Thea's head snapped up. "You always know what's right for everyone, don't you, Ma? You have no idea--"

  "Oh, no? Let me tell you--"

  Annie stared at her mother, at her grandmother. In all her life she'd never heard them exchange a cross word. Her stomach tightened. How could they, who had always been the perfect mother-and-daughter pair, suddenly attack each other?

  "Stop it! Stop it!" she cried. "You mustn't fight. You can't fight. Oh, please. "Someone's arms--Uncle Ward's--went around her. She sank back against him, sitting stiffly at first, then relaxing when her mother and grandmother stopped glaring bullets at each other.

  * * * *

  Clay fished below Coffee Pot Rapids for a couple of hours after he and Annie parted. He wasn't sure why he hadn't gone rafting with her. Maybe because he couldn't trust himself. It was getting damn hard to keep his hands off of her.

  Who'd have thought it? He'd been more or less content with his life without a woman since Meredith moved to Dallas. First he'd been too busy winding up his parents' estates. Then he'd had to get his own affairs in order so he could escape the bank. So what was the first thing that happened when he found himself free?

  Annie.

  He wanted her, pure and simple. So what? Easily handled. Trouble was, she was taking up more and more of his time, his thoughts, and not just his lustful thoughts either.

  I haven't got time for a woman. Not now. Not until I take care of all the other changes in my life.

  At least that's what he kept telling himself.

  Nonetheless, when the shadows spread across the river in the narrow north-and-south canyon, he called it a day. If they'd started soon after lunch, the rafters should be getting to Macks Inn pretty soon.

  A raft was just coming into sight when Clay walked down to the landing. A closer look and he recognized the redhead--Hetty, and the bearded fellow Annie had introduced as her uncle...Bill? No, Ben. Before long another raft appeared, then two more.

  He was in time.

  Clay stood back while the first two rafts unloaded, but when Annie's eased up to the landing, he made sure he was there to grab the hawser and pull it in. He greeted the rest of the party. Her mother looked like she'd gotten seasick and Annie looked a bit wan herself. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," she told him, as they walked up the slope toward the parking lot. "Too much sun, maybe."

  She didn't look sunburned. "Have dinner with me?"

  She stopped walking. "Oh, gosh, Clay, I don't know. I should--"

  "You should have dinner with him," Cecile said from behind her. "This is your last chance. Don't waste it."

  A quick frown, as if she was not quite sure what she wanted, then she smiled. "Okay. I'd love to. What time?"

  "Why don't I drive you back to the ranch now? I'll bet you'd like to get out of those wet clothes."

  "Oh, I don't know. They feel pretty good, now that we're off the river. It's hot!" She fanned herself as they left the chattering group behind and walked toward his pickup.

  Clay wondered why she was so quiet once they were on the road. After a couple of miles he said, "Did you have fun?"

  It seemed to him she had to think about her answer. "Yes, I think so," she said after a moment. "Most of the time, anyhow. What did you do this afternoon?"

  "Fished."

  Her laughter relieved his mind. "Now why didn't I know that? Catch anything?"

  "Enough to feed us both. I hope you like fresh trout."

  "You kept them? I thought--"

  "They're legal, not to worry. That stretch is open fishing." He signaled his turn. "Your grandmother said it was your last chance to have dinner with me. When are you going home?"

  "Sunday. I'll have to be on the road by noon."

  Damned if she didn't sound disappointed. Clay couldn't hide his grin.

  * * * *

  The Bentley was parked beside the Big House when they returned. "I can hardly wait to hear what Frances thinks of shopping in Idaho Falls," Cecile said to Ward, after Thea and Gib had gone inside. "Although why on earth she thought she'd find anything worthy of herself is beyond me."

  Ward handed her the tote bag containing the water pistols she'd contributed to the afternoon's fun. "Ma, your tongue is getting sharper every year." He walked slowly, stayed at her side as she climbed the front steps. "Want some iced tea?"

  "I want a bathroom first. Then a nice, quiet time on the porch, with my feet up."

  "I'll fix the tea."

  When Cecile returned to the porch, Ward was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs and had padded another with cushions for her. "Every year I mean to replace these," she told him as she lowered herself into the chair's embrace, "and every year I forget until we get here. I have never sat in anything so uncomfortable."

  "Pa liked them." He set a small table beside her and put her iced tea within reach. "Never could understand it."

  "Neither could I. Never mind. After more than fifty years of sitting in them, I supposed I can manage a few more. Now, did you check your phone messages?"

  Ward looked over his shoulder, saw no one within listening distance. Nonetheless, he kept his voice low. "Ed talked to Champion's agent who is apparently playing guard. Explained the situation. The agent agrees with us, that Hildy should have a chance to say goodbye, but he's worried that seeing Champion's condition might be traumatic."

  "It would be more traumatic if she didn't get the chance," his mother said. "She needs the closure. What arrangements did your investigator make?"

  "Champion's no
t going to last long, so the sooner we get her down there, the better. Ed got the impression it's just a matter of days."

  "I'll speak to Frances, then." His mother pushed herself out of the chair. Grimaced. "I'm not looking forward to this."

  "I'll do it."

  "No, I'm her mother. It's my job." She went into the house.

  Ward stayed on the porch. If he knew his sister, ma would need some cheering up after their confrontation.

  Ben and Louisa came walking up from the Blue House while he waited. "Hold on," he told them. "I don't think you'll want to go in there right now."

  Louisa took the chair his mother had vacated while Ben perched on the railing nearby. "Oh? Why not?"

  "Ma's having a talk with Frances. Not exactly secret stuff, but best kept between them." He looked over at Ben, wondering if he should keep his mouth shut. Decided against it. "What's the deal with Eric? He used to have better sense."

  "Beats the hell out of me," Ben said, shaking his head. "I would have said he knew better. God knows, I taught him water safety."

  "It's Jennifer," Louisa put in. "She's got him so convinced that she knows the only way to raise those kids-- I wanted to slap her today. She won't let them have swimming lessons, wouldn't take my advice to stay behind. 'Oh, no, Mother Armstrong' she said. 'My children are very well-behaved. They'd be so disappointed to miss the raft trip.' Shit! Her children are the most spoiled little brats I've ever seen. I can't believe Eric doesn't see that."

  Ward couldn't resist a small chuckle. "I take it she's not your favorite daughter-in-law."

  "Oh, lord, Ward, I shouldn't have said that. Jennifer is a good wife, an excellent mother, I'm sure. It's just that her idea of how to raise kids is so different from mine, from anyone's in the family. We get along a lot better when we're six hundred miles apart." She leaned her head back and laid a hand over her eyes. "This week's been a real strain. My tongue's sore, from me biting it to keep from speaking out."

  Raised voices from inside forced Ward to his feet. "Well, don't hold your breath. The week's not over, and there's more family fun ahead. Stay here. I'll be back."