by Geof Johnson
“Are you ever going to stop calling him Master Jamie?”
“It seems appropriate.”
“And you’re always going to call me Mrs. Wallace, even though we’re friends?”
“It is how I got to know you. It is how I think of you.”
The back door flew open and Aiven burst into the kitchen. “Are there any more apples?” he said, slightly out of breath.
Mrs. Tully crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. “Is that how you ask? And you interrupted us.”
He winced. “Uh, I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard and tried again. “Excuse me, but are there any apples left?”
“Are they for you and Sammi, or the horse?”
“Uh....”
“Never mind.” She flipped one hand. “I already know the answer. There are a few left in the cellar. You may take two.”
“Thanks.” He ran off and she watched him go for a moment.
“He loves that horse, doesn’t he?” Evelyn said.
“They are closer than any animal and a boy have ever been, I believe.”
Evelyn heard the hammering of feet on the stairs, and then Aiven raced by them and hurried out the back door, which slammed behind him. “He seems like such a good, happy boy.”
“He is.” They peered out of the window and watched him hand one of the apples to Sammi. “Aiven is a very good boy.” Aiven and Sammi ran to Sugar, who was grazing on the edge of the yard, and Sammi offered her fruit to the horse. “Sammi seems like a good girl.”
“She is. I think the Callahans are going to try to become her foster parents.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s sort of like adopting, only the child doesn’t become your heir or take your name or anything like that. You give them a home and care for them, legally.”
“Why wouldn’t they want to adopt her? She is so lovely and sweet.”
Evelyn pulled a can of coffee from the cabinet and opened it. “I don’t know. I think that Lisa is the one who really wants her, and Larry is just going along, grudgingly. But being a foster parent is not as big of a commitment as adopting, so maybe they’re doing it this way to see how it goes.”
They both watched as Sugar finished eating the apple that Sammi had given her, Sammi laughing delightedly and stroking the animal’s neck. Then Aiven offered the horse his fruit. “How about you?” Evelyn turned back to Mrs. Tully. “What are your plans for Aiven?”
Mrs. Tully took a long breath and wrinkled her brow, then gave a tentative nod. “I think I am going to adopt him.”
“Wonderful!” Evelyn clapped her hands once and squeezed them together at her chest. “Does he know?”
She shook her head and glanced out of the window at him before answering. “I will talk to him about it. I believe that is what he wants, too.”
“I think you can be sure of that. How is it done here? Do you have to get a lawyer or something?”
“I have to post a notice at the courthouse for thirty days, and if there is no other claim for him, the judge will grant me full custody.”
“What do you mean, claim?”
“Another family can say that they have blood ties to the boy, or a strong bond of familiarity. The law is intended to prevent runaways from being claimed and forced into labor, usually on a large farm.”
Evelyn put the new coffee pot under the faucet in the sink and turned on the water. “So it gives the child’s natural parents a chance to bring him home.”
“Yes, though I do not foresee a problem with Aiven. His parents are dead and his nearest relatives abandoned him.”
Evelyn filled the pot with water and returned it to the coffeemaker. She tapped some dark grounds into the top and said, “I’m sure that things will go smoothly for you. I hope they go as smoothly for the Callahans and Sammi.” She looked out of the window again at the two children, who were still petting the golden-brown horse.
Aiven gave Sugar one final pat and turned to Sammi with an eager look in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can catch some crayfish in the river.”
“How do you do that?” Sammi said as they walked across the yard, the grass dark green and thick with summer growth.
“I watch until I see one float by. The current is stronger right now because of the rain, and it flushes them out of their hiding places.”
“What do you catch them with? Do you have a net?”
“I use my hands.”
“Ewwww! Gross.” Sammi wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t they bite?”
“They try to pinch you with their claws, but I’m too quick for them, I am.”
They neared the bank, and the wooden bench seat was on their left. “What do you do with them after you catch them?”
“Throw them back. Some people eat them, but Mrs. Tully says she won’t cook them, and if I bring them inside, she gives me a tongue lashing.” He pointed at the swiftly moving brown water. “It’s usually clear as glass, but it gets muddy for a day or two after a hard rain. It’s cold, too, because it comes from the mountains east of here.”
The river was only about as wide as the yard, not as wide as she expected, though it seemed to be flowing quickly, and she watched a weathered branch float by in a hurry. “How deep is it?”
“It’s over my head, even when there’s been no rain, so right now it’s pretty deep. Normally a grownup could wade across it, but I can’t go in it until I get bigger, Mrs. Tully said.” He pointed at the tip of a boulder near the middle that protruded above the surface. “That’s almost completely under water now, but usually it sticks way up.”
“Can you swim?”
“No. Can you?”
She shook her head. “Are there fish in it?”
“Plenty. Mr. Sikes and Mr. John Paul caught a barrel full about three weeks ago. Mrs. Tully cooked them and they tasted good. That was before Jamie got the new gas stove for the kitchen.” He picked up a stone and tried to skip it across the water, but it sank immediately with a plunk. “She says she doesn’t like the new one and the old one was perfectly fine, but she doesn’t mean it, I can tell. She fusses and carries on sometimes because she’s set in her ways, but the new stove is so much easier to use, and she likes that, I know.” He threw another stone and nodded. “Easier on me, too, because I don’t have to fetch wood for it anymore.”
“Does Mrs. Tully ever whip you?”
“No. Sometimes I wish she’d do that instead of give me that look.” He frowned. “She could boil water with that look, she could.”
“Mr. Gundy used to hit me with a belt, but sometimes he’d use his hand. One time he slapped me on the face so hard that I could hardly move my jaw for two whole days. Mrs. Gundy thought it was broken and she wanted to take me to the hospital, but he said no, ’cause he didn’t want to spend the money. He never wanted to spend money, except on his car. And they were afraid the police would find out he hit me.” She made a sour face.
“Sounds like a very mean man.” Aiven suddenly pointed at the river. “There’s one, right there. It’s a crayfish. See?”
Sammi peered closely into the brown water and saw a creature tumble by near the bank. The small animal was grayish-green, with wicked-looking little claws, a fan-shaped tail, and long antennae streaming from its head. It rolled near the surface for a second before disappearing down into the murk. “Why didn’t you try to catch it, Aiven?”
“I wasn’t ready. And it was too far out.”
“The water’s not that deep there, I bet. You’re just chicken.”
“It’s deeper than you think. Probably comes up to my chest, even this close to the side. Besides, Mrs. Tully will get mad if I get muddy.” He pointed again. “There’s another one! Do you see it?”
“Where?” She leaned over the edge to get a better look, but her foot slipped on the wet rock and she lost her balance. “Oh!” she cried, flailing her arms for a terrifying moment.
Then she fell face first into the river.
Cold water rushed into her mouth and
eyes and up her nose, shockingly cold, colder than she could’ve imagined. She tried to get her feet underneath her, but the strong current pushed her downstream. She thrashed with all of her limbs and managed to get her face above the surface and took a spluttering half-breath before she was pulled under again.
She heard Aiven scream, “Sammi!”
She felt a wave of panic and her lungs burned for air as she floundered in the frigid water. She struggled to get her head up again for a desperate gasp and saw Aiven running along the bank, staying even with her. “Help!” he yelled. “Somebody help!”
Sammi kicked but felt nothing beneath her but more water. She splashed furiously but was helpless against the inexorable surge of the river, dragging her rapidly downstream and toward the middle. She struck something substantial with her back — a boulder — and she turned and grabbed at it with frantic fingers, but the rock was covered with slippery algae and she was only able to slow her awful progress.
She managed another breath and a glance at the shore before losing her grip. She saw Aiven running even with her and waving his arms wildly, and Sugar galloping across the yard toward her. Sammi’s head went under again and she held her breath and swam frantically against the current, but her pitiful strokes were useless against the power of the river.
I’m going to drown! Her heart hammered in her chest and she kicked and paddled with renewed alarm, but nothing she did seemed to slow her descent downriver.
She bumped against another boulder and grabbed at it with hysterical intensity. She screamed and looked at Aiven for help, but an awful realization flashed through her mind. He can’t swim either. He can’t help me.She didn’t see any of the adults nearby. Nobody can.
Aiven yelled, “Hold on, Sammi! Sugar’s coming.” The horse was in the water now, driving hard toward Sammi. Aiven cupped his hands to his mouth. “Hang on tight!”
But Sammi’s hands were numb with cold and the boulder was slick. Her fingers lost their grip and she slipped away, pushed back into the torrent, helpless as a rag doll against the terrible flow. She felt her energy draining away, and she tumbled like a piece of driftwood toward the deeper, more deadly part of the river, where she knew she might die.
I can’t give up.
But she could barely move, and even if she could, she couldn’t swim anyway. The current rolled her onto her back and she got another breath of air, and a clear glimpse of the sky.
The beautiful blue sky.
Heaven is up there. She felt an odd moment of serenity, as if she were floating on a cloud and there was nothing between her and eternity. My mother is in heaven. Maybe I’ll see her. She could give in to the overpowering water and join her right then.
Mommy. She raised her arm and held a pleading hand to the angels.
Her thoughts were jarred back to reality when her left shoulder scraped against a protruding rock, and then she found herself slowed by another, smaller boulder.
She threw her arms around it and held on with all of her remaining strength, but her limbs felt sluggish and weak. She knew her grip wouldn’t last long before she was swept away for good.
Sugar swam furiously, her tremendous chest breaking the water around her like the prow of a mighty ship, her eyes fixed on Sammi as if she were trying to tell her something. I’m coming. The animal was strong, stronger than the river, stronger than anything. If only Sammi could maintain her grasp.
Sammi’s grip was failing. Her dead fingers could hold on no longer. She was finally forced away from the boulder as Sugar neared her. Sammi reached out desperately and tried to grab Sugar’s mane, but her frozen hands wouldn’t work properly. Sugar lowered her neck and Sammi somehow managed to wrap her arms around it, then Sugar shifted her body and Sammi found herself straddling her back.
The powerful horse changed course and pressed for the bank, swimming with incredible strength. She was warm beneath Sammi’s cold body, wonderfully warm, and Sammi felt the magnificent animal’s muscles powering them toward safe, dry land.
Aiven was there, along with all of the adults, running beside the shore through the high grass and around the small trees. They were well past the edge of the lawn and into the woods at the far side of the property. All of the adults were yelling encouragement to Sammi and Sugar, waving them to safety. The river became shallower near the shore, and Sugar pushed hard with her legs and they rose from the cold water.
Sugar walked the last few steps and climbed the low bank, carrying Sammi to the waiting adults. Mrs. Callahan was the first to her side, pulling Sammi from the horse and hugging her fiercely to her chest while Sammi coughed into Mrs. Callahan’s shoulder.
“You’re safe!” Mrs. Callahan said. “Oh, Sammi, I thought you were a goner. I was so scared.” She patted Sammi on the back. “Can you breathe okay?”
Sammi coughed again and then nodded.
Mr. Callahan was there, too, with one hand on Sammi’s arm. “I’m so glad, gosh....” He exhaled heavily. “You have no idea, I’m...I’m so relieved. You almost drowned. What happened?”
Sammi tried to speak, her head resting against Mrs. Callahan’s shoulder, but her mouth was too numb to form words. Aiven answered for her, “We were looking for crayfish and she fell in. She didn’t mean to, really, I promise! But Sugar saved her, she did. I asked her to, with my mind.”
Jamie stroked the horse’s wet nose. “You’re a hero, Sugar. I think you deserve some more apples.” Sugar snorted a response and shook her head, spraying water everywhere. Jamie held his arm in front of his face and winced and the others stepped back out of range.
“We need to get Sammi dried off.” Mrs. Sikes said. “She’s shivering and her lips are turning blue.”
“We don’t have anything with us for her to change into,” Mrs. Callahan said. “And I put most of her clothes in the washing machine back home before we left. They’re wet, too.”
“I can dry her clothes in about two minutes with my magic,” Jamie said, “if she’ll take them off first.”
“There are some clean towels in the bathroom,” Mrs. Tully said.
Mrs. Callahan turned and started carrying Sammi back toward the house, but Mr. Callahan reached for her and said, “Give her to me. I want to carry her. It’s a long way.”
Mrs. Callahan handed Sammi over to him, and he cradled her tightly and hurried through the high grass to the yard while everyone else followed. When he reached the house, he rushed her through the back door into the kitchen and on to the main room. Sammi vaguely noticed that it smelled strongly of paint and all of the furniture had been pushed to the center of the room, covered with drop cloths.
Mr. Callahan whisked her into the new bathroom, and Mrs. Callahan and Mrs. Sikes came with him while everyone else stayed behind. “Larry, we’ll take it from here,” Mrs. Sikes said, and he eased her to the floor. Sammi swayed on her feet for a moment and Mr. Callahan reached to steady her, but she shook her head and managed to say, “I can do it.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re okay.” He turned to his wife and said, “I’ll be right outside in the main room. Holler if you need me.” He waited for Mrs. Wilkins to come in before he left and closed the door behind him, leaving Sammi with the three mothers.
“Goodness gracious,” Mrs. Callahan said as she pulled Sammi’s sopping wet shirt over her head and tossed it into the sink. “You scared the daylights out of me.”
“You scared all of us,” Mrs. Sikes said. “Now, let’s get the rest of these wet clothes off you and wrap you in a nice warm towel while Jamie dries them for you.”
Duane Gundy gritted his teeth and pushed down hard on the polishing cloth as he buffed the hood of his Trans Am, parked in the shade of some pine trees in his front yard. The green can of Turtle Wax rested on a soft rag on top of the car, waiting for him to apply another coat.
He was waxing his beautiful machine and thinking furiously, thinking, thinking, thinking. He had to find a way to talk to one of Sammi’s friends, alone, for five minutes, just five lousy minut
es, and then he’d know where Sammi went. He was frustratingly close to bringing her home, and only two things stood in the way: Libby, and her disrespectful turd brother, Luke. And their damn father, he reluctantly added to the list. There’s got to be a way to talk to one of thosekids without getting shot.
He swept the cloth over the black metal in fierce, circular strokes, the motion of his hand mirroring the thoughts in his skull, round and round, round and round. The effects of the black pill he’d taken earlier were kicking in, and his shoulder hurt from polishing too hard and his jaw was starting to ache from grinding his teeth.
He paused for a moment and pressed his hands against his lower back, grunting like an animal and grimacing. He turned when he heard the front door slam and he saw his wife walking across the dirt yard toward him, her arms pressed over her thin chest and her expression grave.
What the hell does she want? He turned his back to her and picked up the can of wax from the roof of the car. He dipped the applicator pad into it and was preparing to smear it across the top when she said, “Duane?”
He swore and turned back to face her. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I just got off the phone with Marsha. That’s Luke and Libby’s momma.”
“I know who she is. You think I’m stupid?” He spread a streak of wax across the roof and tried to ignore her.
“Don’t you want to know what she said?”
He stuck the applicator back in the can and said, “Can’t be no good, or you wouldn’t look that way.”
“She said they don’t know where Libby is.”
He slapped the roof of the car angrily. “Of course she said that! What did you expect her to say? That she knows where Sammi went and she’s going to draw us a map and bake us some cookies?”
She lowered her brow and gave him that typical I’m hurt look that he hated so much. “You don’t have to get so mad. I think she meant it.”
He turned to fully face her, one hand on his hip and the other still holding the can of wax. “Dammit, Brenda, I told you it wouldn’t do no good if you talked to her. You were too nice, just like you always are, and she knew she didn’t have to tell you nothin’. From now on, let me handle this. I’ll find Sammi and bring her home.”
