Summer by the River

by Debbie Burns

  After a few strides, Carter matched his pace to hers. “Do you treat every guy who walks through your door like this?”

  “No, but honestly, most of the guys who show up at Myra’s tea garden are married, seniors, or gay. And the only thing they’re looking for is a good meal and some harmless conversation about the tea, quiche, or the weather.”

  “Point taken.”

  For close to a minute, there was nothing but the sound of their rhythmic breathing and their feet hitting the pavement. The century-and-a-half old houses and towering trees above the bluffs made for a scenic jog.

  “So, uh, about Zoe. To be honest, I can’t quite figure out why you glare at me like I’m the devil incarnate when she’s talking to me.”

  Josie sidestepped to avoid a puddle, and her shoulder brushed against his arm. After a silence long enough that he wondered if she’d answer, she said, “Before you came, it wasn’t so obvious she was missing, you know, a father figure.”

  “And now that I’m here, you’ve realized you want the male influence in her life to be null?”

  “You really are a New Yorker at heart, aren’t you?”

  “Because I call it as I see it? Look, I don’t know what you have against New Yorkers, but as I said, I was raised in Texas. Once a Texan, always a Texan. I moved to New York when I was twenty. But none of this has anything to do with Zoe.”

  Ahead of them, a sprinkler was soaking the sidewalk. When Josie made no move to avoid it, he didn’t either.

  “She’s had enough loss.” She spoke quietly enough he almost couldn’t hear her over the pounding of their feet.

  Carter suspected that short confession was the most honest she’d been with him. “What if I promise to tread carefully? Maybe you didn’t want me knocking on your door, but I’m here. And I’m giving serious thought to Myra’s offer to stay on a few months. Maybe even through winter.”

  “Through winter?” She whipped around to look at him and caught a toe on an uneven slab of sidewalk. She would’ve gone sprawling if it wasn’t for him locking a hand around her elbow to catch her.

  “I thought Myra told you,” he said after she’d found her stride again. The sidewalk was narrow enough that he had to jog a half step behind her in places. When he did, the smell of her shampoo or bodywash—something light and flowery—washed over his nostrils. “She’s offered me the room as long as I’d like it. I’ve been thinking about using this as a sabbatical. I’ve had a rough half draft of a novel waiting for me for a couple years. Add that to the fact that I’m between apartments and looking to get away from at least one person in New York, and Galena seems like the perfect place to clear my head.”

  She shook her head abruptly, disrupting the rhythmic sway of her ponytail. Fueled by fresh fear or anger or excitement—whatever it was his words had stirred up—she picked up her pace. He forced himself to match it even though his lungs protested as she led them into a part of town he’d not yet explored.

  “Thoughts?” he said into her silence several minutes later.

  “What if Zoe gets attached? What happens when you leave?”

  “I’m not just going to walk out the door one day and never look back.”

  Pain flashed across Josie’s face, making Carter suspect his words had hit home in a way he’d not intended. She retreated into silence as she led them in a circle back toward Dodge Street, following the sloping road downhill into town and across the Galena River on the pedestrian bridge.

  After another mile, they circled back toward town. Carter was more than ready to slow to a walk when he noticed Josie was heading straight for the Green Street Stairs.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “You can’t be a runner and a smoker, Carter. You’ll live longer if you choose the first.”

  “If I don’t die of a heart attack first.”

  The smile she flashed made him step out of rhythm. “Run these steps every day, and you won’t want to dig through the trash can for that pack of cigarettes.”

  The first twenty stairs were a killer. He’d walked them twice now, but jogging them was a different story altogether. How many steps did Myra say? Upwards of two hundred?

  He made it close to six flights before he was forced to stop and catch his breath.

  “Damn cigarettes. I can’t believe I’m letting you outpace me.”

  “Take your time while I ignore that sexist comment,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll wait for you at the top.”

  “If you don’t see me in twenty minutes, call an ambulance, will you?”

  “More runs and triathlons than my years, isn’t that what you were saying?”

  * * *

  Most days, somewhere about two-thirds of the way up the Green Street Stairs, Josie’s lungs started to burn like fire and her thigh muscles turned to cement and she was forced to walk the rest of the way up. Today, thanks to the extra adrenaline from having Carter on the run with her, she made it to the top with only a slight drop in pace. Her windpipe felt like it had been sucked dry from the exertion.

  As she dropped to a walk to wait for Carter, stepping from the stairs to the sidewalk, a spasm of fear locked up her step at the sound of a long, low growl. Even breathless and with blood pounding in her ears, it was menacing. Fifteen feet ahead, a dog was blocking her path. And not just any dog. It was a massive animal, a hundred pounds, easily. It was sprawled across the sidewalk, panting. She couldn’t think of the breed offhand but knew it was something similar to a Saint Bernard.

  It wasn’t the first time she regretted reading Cujo when she was twelve.

  As she looked closer, she was startled to find a long streak of blood under his chin and matted blood covering one ear. She winced as she took in more cuts on his legs.

  She was no expert, but it didn’t seem like he’d been hit by a car. Maybe the animal was a stray and had gotten in a row with a pack of feral dogs. Or maybe he’d been fought by some asshole and then dumped and disregarded.

  She latched onto the banister, pity and fear coiling her muscles into uneasy knots. Her taxed lungs constricted even more, making it a struggle to pull in air. Thankfully, Carter seemed to have found his stride again; she could hear him hammering out the last dozen steps. When she kept frozen in place as he reached the top, he stepped around her, following the direction of her gaze.

  The dog had lifted its head off the concrete again and was watching them warily. Carter gave a light shake of his head and pulled his mouth into an “o” as he worked to slow his breathing.

  “He might be feral,” Josie said between breaths.

  As if in response to her claim, the dog curled his lips back in a second, long growl.

  “He’s hurt.” His attention still locked on the dog, Carter closed a hand over Josie’s shoulder. “Look at those cuts. They’re all over him. I’m betting…he was fought,” he rasped.

  With Carter at her side, Josie felt the truth of the safety in numbers expression wash over her, and her lungs began unclamping, making it easier to talk. “There are reports of feral dog packs around here sometimes. Either way, I bet he’s dangerous. We should go down the way we came. If we meet someone along the way, we can have them call animal control.”

  “We can’t leave him here. He needs our help. And he’s friendly,” Carter argued. “Look at those eyes. He’s just scared…and hurt.”

  “He could be rabid for all you know.”

  “Hopefully not, but just in case, I’ll make sure not to get bit.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting go. “Trust me. I’m good with dogs.”

  She clamped a hand tight over her mouth as he headed up the path, his steps slow and deliberate. When the dog pulled his lips back in a snarl, Carter continued to close the distance between them, talking low and easy all the way. Josie’s hand went from her mouth to her eyes, loosely covering them. She wanted to warn
Carter that he was going to end up with a series of rabies shots, but her throat had turned to cement.

  “Hey, boy, easy there. Easy now,” he chanted as he drew close.

  When the dog went from snarling to something between whining and a growling, and Carter didn’t withdraw, Josie mumbled under her breath, “Oh my God, I can’t look.”

  “Easy, boy, easy there. Easy, now,” Carter chanted. He sank to his knees, never having altered his pace or his tone.

  Josie clamped her hands over her ears and turned away. Her muscles had gone as rigid as steel, like she was waiting for history to repeat itself. When nothing penetrated the muffled silence, she peeked their way again.

  Her knees buckled and tears stung her eyes to find the dog quietly licking Carter’s arm.

  “He’s in worse shape up close. We’ve got to get him some help.” Carter’s gaze was fixed on the dog, but his tone was so calm it blanketed her with reassurance too. “Go get my car, will you? And my wallet. It’s on my dresser with my keys. My room’s unlocked.”

  “I…I can’t drive. Not really, anyway.”

  “A stick? Then get Myra’s big beast and a blanket. She won’t care.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  This pulled his attention her way. “At all?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’ve not yet failed to amaze me, you know that? Stay with him then, will you? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Okay, but I’m not you; I’m not getting any closer.”

  “That’s fine, but if he decides to take off, I’d appreciate it if you’d trail him.” He rubbed the dog gently behind the ears before taking off at a jog toward Myra’s.

  Josie kept her distance as the stray whined after Carter, then lowered his chin to the sidewalk. He flicked his gaze between Carter and Josie until Carter was out of sight, then turned his full attention to her. He’d stopped growling at her, at least.

  He was such a giant dog. Dark brown and black with patches of white and fluffy hair matted with blood. Staring at him, Josie noticed shadows from her past rising up, taunting her, blending with the dog in front of her and causing her to break out in a whole-body sweat.

  In her mind’s eye, her brother, a bundle of endless energy, zigzagged in front of her as they headed down the sidewalk. He was maybe six or seven; she couldn’t remember. Sam’s laughter rang fresh in her ears.

  She’d seen the approaching dog too late. His head was lowered menacingly as he watched Sam’s spasmic flight. His owner, a hardened man with gold chains jangling around his neck, was wrapped up in a phone call. Too far away to stop him, she’d frozen in fear as Sam leaned into the stranger’s dog, wrapping it in a bear hug.

  Her brother’s tinkling laughter melted into screams as the giant dog’s white teeth sank into Sam’s neck. Twenty-nine stitches and a series of rabies shots was what Sam’s encounter with the dog had cost him. And scars that he wore with pride as he grew into a teen. And through it all, Sam remained a dog lover. She was the one who’d begun crossing the street when anything larger than a beagle headed her way.

  A shudder raked through Josie, and her sweaty arms broke out in goosebumps.

  Not all big dogs were dangerous. She knew that. But a feral beast who’d either been mutilated by his pack or fought and dumped could only be trouble.

  As if the injured dog was reading her mind, a deep, guttural growl resonated through the air. Josie’s brother’s voice rose up from the swell of memories flooding her, telling her to relax. To let go. To trust.

  “You were wrong, Sam,” she said aloud. “You were wrong about so much. And look where it got us.”

  The dog whined at the sound of her voice and pumped his tail, as if beckoning her over.

  “Not a chance, big guy. Carter’s coming for you. You have no idea how lucky you are he came on this run.” She stopped and swallowed, fighting back the deluge of tears that had been fighting their way to the surface for a very long time. “If it had just been me, I’d have gone the other way.”

  Chapter 15

  After the parking-lot shooting, things between Josie and Nico got physical. Once the kissing and touching started, they had appetites for one another like a hot-burning fire, always needing to be fed another piece of wood. Except for going all the way, they did just about everything their hungry bodies could conceive. The older they got, the more creative they became.

  Some days, Josie felt like she was standing at the edge of the ocean, bracing herself for a massive wave rushing her way. It wasn’t so much Nico but the kids around them who were pressing in, changing things. The looks she got when he wasn’t around, the comments…It seemed that, because she had a claim on Nico, everyone hated her.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Nico asked. He’d turned sixteen a month after Josie’s fifteenth birthday.

  They were in ninth grade and walking to school alone since Sam was still in junior high. From his grades to his attendance and behavior, Sam was spiraling downward without her in the same school to watch over him. He was smoking pot daily and drinking sometimes too. He promised he wouldn’t do anything else, but he was so damn impulsive. Josie had nightmares about it.

  With Nico, it was different. He smoked sometimes, but Nico liked control. Josie wasn’t worried about him getting swept away in a moment of indulgence the same way she was worried about Sam. No, if Nico got involved with drugs, he’d be the one doing the sweeping.

  “Girls,” she replied after a pause. It was a one-word answer for a problem that was way bigger than one word.

  “How so?”

  “Things they say to piss me off. About you.”

  He nudged her with his elbow. “Go on. I wanna hear you say it. Every word.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You think I’d cheat on you?”

  “What I think is that everyone hates me because I’m with you.”

  The playfulness in his expression fell as they neared the entrance. They walked the rest of the way in silence before a group of guys swarmed Nico, high fiving him. “’Sup, brah?”

  A few hours later, Josie was still thinking about the best way to tell Nico all that was really bothering her. She was in the bathroom, trying to swipe a loose eyelash from the corner of her eye when she was cornered by a group of girls that she attempted to avoid like the plague.

  There were six of them—ninth- and tenth-grade girls who, in Josie’s mind, had similar odds of finishing high school as the earth did of being hit by a giant meteorite. Most of them were already using heavily and sleeping with guys who’d dropped out to sell drugs or who were in juvie.

  But the one guy they wanted, the guy everyone wanted, in one way or another, was Nico.

  Nico wasn’t the only freshman taller than six foot with wider shoulders than the gym coach, but that didn’t matter. With Nico, it was his presence. He was never going to take shit from anyone.

  And Josie was the one person keeping him unavailable.

  Josie had no doubt that each one of the girls was more than capable of kicking her ass individually. She turned her back against the sink and faced them. Let this just be a threat. Please, please, please.

  She knew not to try for the door. Running would make it worse.

  Isabelle, the leader, closed the distance between them, something close to evil blazing in her eyes. She was twenty or thirty pounds heavier than Josie and wore fake nails that looked like daggers.

  “I never did anything to you,” Josie spat.

  “That’s because all you do is sit around and do homework and think you’re better than the rest of us. Well, you’re not. And it’s time you know it.”

  They started in on her at once, grabbing her hair and pushing her to the floor. They kicked her, tore at her clothes, clawed at her, and slammed her face onto the dirty tile. She fought back as best as she could.

 
By the time they backed off, Josie was barely conscious, and her body had gone numb except for the ringing in her head.

  Isabelle shoved a phone in her face. “He’s Jena’s now, bitch. See for yourself.”

  Without moving her head—it had to weigh a million pounds—she looked at the photo on the screen. It was taken in a dimly lit room and centered on Nico. He was sitting on a couch, his eyes closed, his head tilted up to the ceiling. Even though it was almost too dark to make out, she knew what the girl kneeling in front of him was doing.

  Isabelle gave her one last kick, and they walked out as silently as they entered.

  Josie vomited on the tile floor. The heaving motion sent a searing pain over her torso, closing off her lungs. After that, she gave into the gray fatigue sweeping over her, the image of Nico burning into her mind.

  Sometime later, she woke up in a hospital bed, a thick cloud of fog making it hard to process. Outside the window, the sunlight was so bright, it was painful. Attempting to cover her eyes, she realized two things: she was hooked up to an IV and scratches covered her arms. She could feel the same lines of itchy pain on her face and neck.

  Her limbs went rigid as she remembered the girls closing in on her.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Her mom was in a chair beside her. Sam was sitting on the floor, texting someone on his phone. She struggled to sit up as her mom offered her a cup of water. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Yeah, really thirsty.”

  Sam came over and sank onto the edge of the mattress, sending a dull wave of pain across Josie’s ribs. “How much do you remember?”

  “Enough.” She sipped on the straw and winced. No doubt her lips were pulverized. “How long have I been here?”

  “Since yesterday. You’ve been in and out of it. They’ve got you on some heavy meds.”

  “I feel like I’m in a fog. Everything’s sort of numb.”