Convergence

by Ginny L. Yttrup

  Did he want me to know he’s here?

  Did he want me to see him?

  I suspect that’s the case.

  I also suspect we’ve entered a game of cat and mouse.

  But which one of us is the cat?

  And which one is the mouse?

  When I return to the property, I go through the usual routine until most of the rafters and guides have left the property. Then I head to the office, hoping to catch Mick alone.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says as I walk in. He pulls a bottle of water from the refrigerator and hands it to me.

  “Thanks.” I hold the cold bottle of water to my forehead for a moment. “So, he was here?”

  “Yep.”

  I wait for Mick to say more, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me.

  “So…?”

  “Nothing much to tell you.” Mick takes off the baseball cap he wears, wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and then puts the cap back on. “He knows he’s not welcome here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He called several years back. Wanted to come back for a summer.”

  “I remember. He said you had all the guides you needed already, or something like that.”

  “That’s what he told you, huh? You know he’s a masterful liar, right?”

  “I’m learning…”

  “Whether I needed a guide or not, I would have hired you or Addie back in a heartbeat, but that guy? No way. And I told him so. Told him I never wanted to see his face around here again. Not after what he did to Addie.”

  “The restraining order?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  “You never told me exactly what happened. Was that the conversation I saw you and Adelia having that afternoon? When she seemed upset?”

  He pulls the stool out from behind the counter. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” I settle on the stool as Mick leans against the counter.

  “Ryan was the jealous type—that’s probably not news to you. When Brad started hanging around, Ryan got heated. More than once.”

  “I saw one of those episodes at The Gateway, but I thought that was the end of it.”

  “Nope. He had a few other run-ins with Brad. Caught him following Addie around. He didn’t mean any harm, but he shouldn’t have followed her. The last time, Ryan threatened Brad, shoved him up against the outside of the post office, where he’d followed them. Pinned him there and told him that if he ever saw him near Addie again, he’d regret it. I don’t know what all he said, but I got the gist of it from both Addie and Brad.”

  “Ryan never… told us that. But then, neither did Addie. Why?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I do know that by that time she was afraid of Ryan. Much more afraid of him than Brad. Like I said, Brad was more of an annoyance, that’s all. That afternoon you’re talking about, she told me Ryan was insisting she file for a restraining order. Told her if she really cared about him, she’d prove it by getting rid of Brad. Accused her of all sorts of things. When I asked if he’d threatened her too, she clammed up. That pretty much told me all I needed to know.” He looks at the floor and clears his throat, then looks back to me. “I told Addie I was going to the authorities. I didn’t like what I was hearing. But she begged me not to. By the time I’d decided I didn’t care if she wanted me to or not”—he shakes his head—“it was too late.”

  “Why did she stay with Ryan? Why did she go hiking with him that day?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand the hold he had on her. Guess we’ll never know.”

  Maybe Adelia wasn’t as strong as she appeared. Or maybe Ryan was just stronger. Health and strength aren’t always synonymous. Whatever the case, as I listen to Mick, waves of grief for Adelia wash over me. And for Mick. For all of us, really.

  Except for Ryan.

  My feelings for Ryan are tangled—strands of anger, betrayal, and astonishment are just the beginning of the knot forming within. Eventually grief will come. But not now.

  I take a deep breath. “Mick, was Addie’s death an… accident?”

  “It was ruled accidental.” He stares at me, his blue eyes watering. “But I never believed it. Told the sheriff that too. But…” He shrugs. “They checked Ryan out, even talked to Brad about him, but they couldn’t prove anything. Without a body…” He looks back at the floor and seems to get lost in his own memories.

  As do I.

  Finally, I ask Mick, “What did Ryan say this morning?”

  He sighs. “Not much. Came in like he owned the place. No surprise. Looked around and said, ‘Things look good.’ When I asked him what he was doing here, he said he was in the area and thought he’d stop when he passed by. I told him to get out and keep on going.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Mick?”

  “Yeah, okay. He asked about you. ‘Denilyn around?’ he says real casually. I told him no. Then I told him he’d best stay away from you, or he’d have me and the law to deal with.”

  “Mick…”

  “I don’t like whatever game you’re playing, you know that.” He looks down. When he looks back up, his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I lost touch with Brad. I didn’t hear what had happened to you or about his involvement until later. How that scuttlebutt passed me by in this town, I don’t know. But the point is, I should have spoken up sooner. I should have pressed harder when I suspected things about him. Maybe I could’ve. Maybe Addie’d still be here. Maybe you wouldn’t have that scar on your head. Maybe…” He shakes his head, then clears his throat. “I just… I didn’t put it all together until it was too late.”

  “Mick, you did what you could at the time. We all did. We didn’t know what we were up against. But we know now. I know you don’t like this game, as you put it, but this has to end. It isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about Addie, Mick. It’s about one of my students, and it’s about whoever comes after me. This has to end, and that’s what I intend to do. End it. Permanently.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but I still don’t like it. I… don’t want to see you end up like… Addie.” He turns and walks behind the counter, then faces me again. “By the way, he had one other question. He wanted to know if there was anything new on Adelia. ‘Was her body ever found? Any remains ever turn up?’” Mick shakes his head. “About put me over the edge.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him he’d have to talk to the authorities if he wanted that kind of information.”

  I nod. “Good. Good. Thank you.”

  While my intent was to leave the old Denilyn behind when I returned to Three Rivers, this evening, as I watch the colors of the sunset dance across the surface of the river, I’m reminded that there were, there are, valuable aspects of my life that I need to allow to infiltrate this space. My conversations with both Jaylan and Keith reminded me that while I have come here alone, God is with me, He often reveals Himself—His love and His strength—through those He’s placed in our lives.

  As the sun drops below the hills, I reach for my phone and call Jaylan.

  “Hey you, glad to see your name on my screen. I’ve been thinking about you and prayin’ too. Wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again while you were there.”

  “Thanks, Jay.”

  “How’re you doin’? You got a lot on your emotional plate, sister.”

  I ignore her question and get to the point. I know she won’t mind. “Jay, what did you see in Ryan that Adelia and I missed?”

  “Listen, I certainly didn’t see all that was there, all that is there. If I had, maybe…”

  “Regrets aren’t going to get us anywhere. I’ve battled quite few of them this last week. I guess what I’m asking is what always rubbed you the wrong way about him? What… I don’t even know what I’m asking. I’m just so…” I trail off, unsure how to convey what I feel.

  “Shocked and angry and confused and… The list probably goes on. I get it. I�
�m feelin’ all that too. Part of what I sensed more than saw with Ryan was a possessiveness, or maybe an entitlement. But it was always hard to pinpoint. But it was like he owned Adelia, and then you. But again, I could never really put my finger on any one thing. Plus, he just plain irritates me, you know that.”

  I smile despite the severity of the circumstances. “Clearly the irritation is mutual.”

  “You got that right. So, I assume he’s there?” I hear something unfamiliar in Jay’s tone.

  “Arrived today. Or at least showed up at Mick’s today.”

  “Figured. He finally stopped houndin’ me. Gabe intercepted his last text to me and told him to lay off.”

  “I bet that didn’t go over too well.”

  “I don’t care one iota how it went over. I’m done with him.” She sighs. “You sure you know what you’re doin’? ’Cause I’ve got to tell you, I’m concerned.”

  “Concerned or afraid?” It’s the fear I hear in her voice.

  “You know, a little fear is a healthy thing.”

  “I know.” I hesitate. “I can’t explain it, but I know I’m supposed to be here. I know God has led me here. And I know He’s in control. When I jumped out of that airplane as a means of acknowledging God’s sovereign hold on my life—whether I lived or died—I had no idea what was ahead and how important that experience would prove to be, you know?”

  “I don’t know, but I can imagine.”

  “Now I’m willing to risk myself… Or rather, maybe I’m just willing to relinquish my life to God, day by day, moment by moment. None of us knows what’s ahead. We may think we do, but…”

  “We don’t.”

  “I don’t want to make poor choices or act brashly. But when I sense God’s lead, I want to follow wherever He takes me. You know what’s weird?”

  “What?”

  “It just occurred to me… If my chute hadn’t failed, if I hadn’t had that near-death experience, the lesson wouldn’t have had the impact it did.”

  “God causes all things to work together for good…”

  I’m quiet a moment as I process what I’ve just said, and Jay’s response. “Jay, maybe that wasn’t God working something for good, maybe the chute failing was part of God’s plan, or His allowance, or… something. Maybe there isn’t a difference, but it seems different. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I know what you’re gettin’ at, but what about Bradley Mathison?”

  “Sonia Alejandro is convinced there’s no way he could have gotten access to the chutes.”

  “How you feeling about that?”

  “I’m not sure. When I told Mick what happened and that Mathison was there, he said he knew—Mathison had told him about it. He told Mick he’d followed me there, that he’d gone to say ‘goodbye.’ Mick said that when Mathison saw my chute come down without me, he’d figured it was the primary chute and that he knew I’d probably been terrified. He told Mick he had a good laugh over that. How am I supposed to believe any of that? I don’t know what to think. I want all or nothing, you know? Clean lines, clear boundaries. Either it was all Mathison or it was all Ryan. How could it possibly be both? What is it about me—”

  “Sister, this isn’t about you; this is about each man and his illness. I also wouldn’t put it past Ryan to use Mathison’s fixation with you to suit his own needs. This is about them. Did you suffer? You bet. I don’t need to tell you that, but you did not invite it. Not from either of them.”

  Jay’s words, like a balm, soothe. “I guess I know that on some level.”

  “Embrace it.”

  “I will, eventually. You know, I was so angry after the incident with Max and then after that chute failed. So angry. But anger fueled so much. It’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

  “Just sounds like some of that anger was misdirected. Now direct it and keep lettin’ it push you forward. Got it?”

  I look out at the current of the river, flowing swiftly forward, always forward. “Got it.”

  After talking with Jay, I sit for a long time and let her words replay, let her encouragement wash over me. Then, before it gets too late, I reach for my phone again. This time I call Keith and ask to speak to Nicky.

  I listen to the lilt in his voice when he hears it’s me. I listen as he goes on about a game I don’t understand, a movie he saw with his dad, and the cake Grandma brought over for them before dinner. I smile through it all. I wipe away tears I’m glad he can’t see. Then, finally, I tell him good night. I tell him I love him. And I make a promise I pray I can keep. “I’ll be home soon, buddy. Soon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Adelia

  June 5, 2017

  I stand in the kitchen and stare at the coffeemaker. “Really? You’re really going to do this?” I unplug it then plug it back in. Nothing. The panel is dead, as it seems is the entire machine. “Okay, I get it, I need to deal with the caffeine addiction. But not now. Not this week.” I shove the machine, though not hard enough to do further damage. I don’t want to have the price of a coffeemaker taken out of my deposit.

  I begin opening cabinets and searching for another means, an old percolator, anything. I close each cabinet a little harder until I’m finally slamming the doors shut. When the upper cabinets offer nothing, I bend down and open a lower cabinet, one I realize I haven’t opened since being here. There, front and center, is a French press. “Thank You, God, and whoever owns this house.”

  I pull it out, grind fresh beans, and then boil water. Once the water is bubbling in the pan, I pour it over the grounds in the press and leave it to steep, or brew, or do whatever it does.

  The waiting, the monotony, is getting to me. It’s evident in my lack of patience this morning. Another day off looms ahead, and I have no desire to explore or hike or even see the river, though it’s hard to miss it right off my back deck.

  I just want this over.

  I just want my life back.

  I want, desperately, to go home.

  I want to wrap my arms around Nicky and never let go. I want the weight of Max sitting on my feet. I want my mother’s homemade lasagna.

  I want to know I’ll live to enjoy all of that again, to participate in my life again. I swallow the ache lodged in my throat, then reach for a mug, push the plunger on the coffee press, and fill the mug. When my phone rings, I roll my eyes. Like I’m twelve.

  It’s Phil. The morning check-in. I set the mug down and reach for the phone. Without looking at the screen, I answer it. “Give me your update, I’m listening.”

  “Phil?”

  I still and listen. He says nothing, but he’s there, silent, breathing.

  “Hello…”

  Ryan or Mathison? I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen. I don’t recognize the number, but it’s one of them. Mathison has stayed away, true to his word.

  I take a deep breath. “When are you going to show yourself? When are you going to make your move? I’m tired of waiting.” There is a steely tone to my voice.

  I wait, but there’s no response.

  “If you want me, you’re going to have to come and get me. But this time…” Rage roils within and my voice shakes. I take another deep breath. I don’t want him to think it’s fear that causes the tremor. “This time you face me. Have the courage to do whatever you’re going to do, face-to-face. Do it!” I yell. “Do it! I am tired of waiting. Just do it!”

  Hand shaking, I press END and toss the phone onto the countertop.

  “Just get it over with!”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Adelia

  June 9, 2017

  Each time my phone has rung since the morning Ryan called, or who I assumed was Ryan, I’ve wondered if it’s him. Will he call again? I’ve watched my back more closely. Connected with Phil more often. His only report remains consistent: he’s around, but he hasn’t sought you out.

  Phil said Ryan is spending a lot of evenings in the bar at The Gateway—he has a room in the lodge there. Does h
e remember Adelia as he sits at that bar? Does he think of Mathison and the accusations and threats he hurled his way?

  Or has he so easily let all that go?

  I lock the final storage unit then go to the office. Mick told me to come in before I left for the day. I walk into the swampy cool of the place, only a slight relief from the hot, dry afternoon.

  Mick, who was finishing up a call as I walked in, hangs up the phone and looks at me. “So, you okay?”

  “I am.”

  He comes around the counter and stands in front of me. “Clear skies and a full moon tonight.”

  I nod.

  “You don’t have to do this. You can get in that old Jeep of yours, hit the 5, and head north. Go home. It’s as easy as that.”

  “Then what? He follows me?”

  “You let the law handle him.”

  “They have nothing on him. Mick, we’ve gone over—”

  “That student of yours could tell them what she knows.”

  “It isn’t enough.”

  He looks down at the floor then back to me. He’s quiet for a moment, but a storm brews in his eyes. “You be careful, okay? Just be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Now, get out of here. And…”—he turns back toward the counter—“call me if you need anything.”

  “What did you say?”

  He glances over his shoulder. “You heard me. Get out of here.”

  “Thank you, Mick. For everything.”

  As I cross the lot to where my Jeep is parked, the same questions I’ve asked all week pester again.

  What’s his plan?

  What’s he doing?

  His behavior makes no sense to me. But then, I’m hoping to make sense of the nonsensical.

  What now, Lord? What’s next? Time is running out.

  I climb into the Jeep, the towel covering the seat hot against my thighs. I sit there waiting for something, anything, but I still have no sense of direction, no idea what comes next. I turn the key in the ignition, pull out of the lot, and make the five-minute drive back to the rental. As I pull into the driveway, one word breezes through my mind.