Wish Me from the Water

by R E Swirsky

  Bobby wandered about down one dark hall after another. He had been in the Oliver home hundreds of times, but the darkness and his agitated state had him a bit disoriented. He shuffled back to the living room window and stared out towards Ricky. "Where am I supposed to be going?"

  "Shit, Bobby! Just go to the front study! That way, to the left!" he said pointing. "Tommy said it's behind the fireplace in the study! Jesus Christ! Just go! Go! Move it!"

  Bobby quickly turned and shuffled back down the hallway towards the study. He reached his hands out in the darkness, and felt along the walls to edge himself towards the study. Bobby was scared, and he shuffled as quick as he could, which wasn't very fast at all. He finally emerged in the cold, barren study. It wasn't as he remembered. The walls were bare and the room was empty of all furniture. Even the carpeting was gone. Some of the light that cascaded down upon the street outside stole its way in through the large front window. It allowed just enough light for Bobby to see. He really wanted just to leave and forget about this entire crazy idea until he turned and stared at the fireplace. He knew he had no option but to push on for Ricky's sake and find the hidden room.

  Bobby hobbled himself slowly towards the stone-covered wall that surrounded the fireplace. It looked normal. He stared at the stone fireplace. It didn't seem to him that there could actually be a room hidden behind it. He sighed and looked behind him in the darkness. "Ricky?" he called out and waited for a reply, but heard nothing. He called again, "Ricky, I'm in here now. How do I open it?"

  Maybe Ricky was too far away to hear him. Bobby shuffled himself back towards to the doorway and popped his head into the hallway so his voice would reach down the hall to the broken living room window where Ricky waited outside. "Hey, Ricky! I'm in here now. Where is it exactly?" he asked. "How do I open it?"

  Again there was no answer.

  "Ricky!" he shouted even louder. "I'm in here! Tell me where it's supposed to be! I see it, but I'm not sure what to do. Did he tell you how to open it? Where is it exactly?"

  It was only a few seconds before a voice suddenly replied. "Where is what exactly?"

  It wasn't Ricky's voice. The voice was much deeper and huskier. Bobby felt a sickening feeling crawl through his belly. "Ricky?" he asked and swallowed hard.

  "I'm not Ricky," came the reply.

  CHAPTER 55

  Dean placed his foot down hard on the accelerator. He knew the alarm at the Oliver house was a silent one, and with the home being unoccupied and no one for the security company to call to confirm if this was accidental, the call went straight to the police station. Dean kept his lights and siren off. He really wanted to surprise and apprehend whomever may have entered the house.

  "What a night," Dean uttered aloud to himself as he hurried on towards Founders Road. The Oliver house was empty and up for sale. Why in blazes would anyone break into an empty house? "Why?" he said aloud.

  Founders Road paralleled the main road that led to the University. Each end of Founders Road turned at a ninety-degree angle to meet up with the main road. Dean turned the corner onto Founders road, and his lights swept across the front of the Oliver home. There in front stood a young, dark-haired, male teenager with his hands up resting in the busted front window. The teenager looked at Dean with an expression of horror as he was caught in the flash of the headlights. He immediately darted away around to the side and back of the house.

  "Shit," Dean shouted as pulled the vehicle to an abrupt stop out front and hopped out. The kid was long gone. Dean knew about the river path in the back behind the houses and determined immediately that there was no way he would be catching that one. He walked slowly up to the house and searched the shadows on the way. He saw no one lurking about. As he neared the structure, he was sure he could hear a voice coming from inside the house beyond the broken window. He crept up quietly and listened.

  "...in here! Tell me where it's supposed to be," the voice said from deep inside the house’s belly.

  Dean moved closer to the broken window and leaned his head inside.

  More words drifted and echoed from within. "I see it, but I'm not sure what to do. Did he tell you how to open it? Where is it exactly?"

  It was definitely another young teenage male by the pitch of the voice. "Where is what exactly?" Dean called out into the broken window. He waited for a reply.

  "Ricky?" the voice called out with uncertainty from the darkness.

  "I'm not Ricky," Dean said back and waited for an answer.

  Silence from inside.

  "Okay," Dean began to speak to whoever remained inside the Oliver home. "I am the police, and I think it is best if you come out now. Come out from wherever you're hiding to the front and unlock this front door for me."

  Dean waited again for a reply and heard nothing.

  "Your friend Ricky ran away." He paused and listened again. "He's long gone, so you come forward young man, and let's talk about this."

  Dean waited a moment, and finally heard the shuffle of feet that moved about inside.

  "That's it. Come forward, out to the front. Just unlock the door and we can talk about this. You are definitely in a pit full of trouble tonight."

  CHAPTER 56

  Ricky ran through the backyard as fast as he could in the darkness. He was absolutely sure he was being chased, and the follower was right behind him with an arm outstretched, ready to grasp hold of him. He didn't dare look behind him and bolted straight out across the back yard. He dashed right through the budding cotoneaster bushes that lined the grassy area behind the house. Terror swept through him as the ground suddenly became uneven, and he was forced to dart in and out of a wild array of trees, shrubs, rocks and fallen logs that were left as a natural area behind the row of bushes. He twisted and stumbled about as he edged forward as fast as he dared towards the pathway that followed the river. He had nearly made it all the way when his foot was tangled in a root that waved up from the forest floor. It brought him crashing down headlong into a large Saskatoon berry bush. The thick branches of the bush jutted out like protective spears that stabbed his face and arms as he fell. He threw his hands out in front to break his fall, and an icy pain stabbed through his right wrist as he finally came to rest tangled in amongst the lower branches of the bush.

  He breathed heavily as he lay with his face pressed down into the dead leaves and broken branches and listened for any sound of approaching footsteps. He heard nothing but the soft sound of the river as it flowed and gurgled its way past the large rocks that lined the river bottom, just twenty feet away. Slowly he turned himself over onto his back and peaked out towards the house from inside the large bush. He looked down at his hand, but it was much too dark to see anything. His right wrist hurt so bad; he knew he had done something seriously bad to it. He brought it slowly to his lips and tasted the sweet, warm saltiness of his own blood.

  His heart continued to thump hard as he tried to discern if the dark shadows that appeared to shift and move in the space between the side of the physiotherapy office and him were real or just his vivid imagination. Minutes passed before he trusted his vision enough to believe that no one was there to follow him down the side of the property.

  When he finally calmed down enough to think clearly, his thoughts went immediately to Bobby. "Bobby," he whispered to himself. "Shit." He knew Bobby was a goner. Bobby wouldn't be able to get out the window with his bad leg. He felt terrible and punched himself in the arm, which caused his already sore and bleeding hand to throb even more.

  Ricky pushed himself up and out of the bush. He brushed his clothes flat while favouring his aching wrist, and stared again up towards the house. He listened for some sign that Bobby was okay, but he didn't hear a thing. He wasn't sure which way to go at first and turned onto the river path. He stood puzzled for a moment on the path and looked up and down in both directions. He was really worried about his friend, but his first thought
was to get as far away from this house as he could. He began to walk downstream towards Head Park at the eastern edge of town.

  As he walked, he lifted his injury up into the moonlight, and he could see in the silhouette that there was something very wrong with the way the hand met the wrist. He felt along up the back of his hand and wrist and screamed in agony as his good hand caught the edge of a splintered wrist bone that protruded out from the skin. The intense pain brought immediate tears to his eyes, and his legs buckled underneath him. He let himself fall to the ground and remained kneeling on the moonlit path until the pain abated enough for him to open his eyes once again and look about. He felt so alone and frightened.

  Time passed ever so slowly for Ricky as he worked his way along the path to Head Park and out towards the centre of town. He made a right mess of everything tonight, and he was still uncertain about how it would all end. He didn't dare go anywhere near Founders Road where Bobby was currently facing it off with the police and focused only on how to get back home to get his badly broken wrist fixed up. He thought about what excuses he could use that his mom would believe.

  Twenty minutes later, Ricky stood on his front steps and stared at his dad's Lexus in the drive. He hesitated and thought about running away into the black of the night. His dad would never sympathize for a broken arm caused by hanging out on the streets at night with friends. He looked down at his dirty and torn clothes from his fight with the forest and feared only the worst from his father. There was blood on his face, hands and tattered clothes. His father would have been proud if he had broken an arm while playing hockey, but an injury caused by running around late at night doing who knows what? He knew his father too well. Thoughts tumbled inside his brain and refused to settle into any logical state.

  Ricky opened the front door with his good arm, shoved the door wide open with his shoulder and walked inside. He held his broken and bloodied wrist out in front of him ready to face the wrath of his parents.

  CHAPTER 57

  "So, you refuse to tell me who this Ricky is?" Dean asked Bobby again.

  Bobby and Dean sat in Dean's cruiser. They were parked out in front of the Oliver house. Bobby was in the back seat alone, and he looked uncomfortable.

  "I told you already. I'm not saying anything," Bobby replied.

  Dean had enough. He had been at it for a while asking questions about what the boys were up to and, more importantly, what they were looking for.

  "We weren't looking for anything! Just out being stupid, I guess. We were just looking for something fun to do. Busting the window seemed like a good idea at the time with all you cops down at the grad party," Bobby said.

  "Not all of us," Dean corrected him.

  Bobby just shrugged and hoped the interrogation would end.

  "And what was it you were trying to open?" Dean asked for the third time. Bobby still refused to admit anything. "We weren't opening nothing! I don't know why you keep asking me that. There's nothing to open! Can I go soon?"

  After twenty minutes of no progress, Dean relented, drove the few doors down to Bobby's house and escorted Bobby inside where he quickly found out who this other boy, Ricky, was from Bobby's mother. Bobby's mother held her composure like a cement fortress, listening intently to every word uttered by Dean about what happened, and glaring with cold fury at her son. She was also very quick and useful in forcing a proper response from her son. She managed to get Bobby to talk about the reason they broke in to the house.

  "I know it was wrong mom, but... But we just wanted to see where they were killed," he finally said with a humbled quiver in his voice. Bobby's mother was horrified that her son got his kicks like this, and she scolded him severely.

  "Honest! That's it! It's what all the kids were talking about all summer with the house sitting empty and all. Everyone talked about breaking in there. When we saw the SOLD sign, we figured this would be our last chance."

  Bobby's mother apologized multiple times to Dean and clearly couldn't understand how her son could behave this way. She promised him Bobby would be punished.

  The new story made a lot more sense to Dean, but he knew there was more to the story yet untold. There always was. Maybe it was simply a dare set out by the other kids to go inside. That sounded exactly like the sort of thing he had seen in the past, but it still didn't quite explain the words he heard as he stood up to the window. For the sake of Bobby's mother, he accepted the story as it was for now.

  Dean advised Bobby and his mother before he left that he would be back in the next few days to follow up on this situation after he filed all of his reports. He told them there may be charges and a possible appearance in court.

  CHAPTER 58

  The smoke from the fire clawed its way into the sky, and the sound of the crackling fire and laughing kids carried across the field and through the trees to where Simon and Sarah sat in the back of Simon's acreage. It was well past midnight, and the party in the grassy field was still going stronger than ever. The music reached over to them in waves as the heat from the fire and the slow breeze caused the sounds to fade in and out. It was quite warm for a late June night, and the heat helped fuel the crowd.

  "Look at them out there," Simon uttered with disgust. "Hoodlums. And Jens is the one promoting all of this."

  Sarah sighed and sipped more of her iced tea. She was sad Simon insisted on hanging on to his irritation. "They're not hoodlums, Simon. They're just kids."

  "Just kids? Look at how they are behaving. They're wild and out of control!"

  A rocket suddenly sparkled up in the sky and burst into a chromatic aberration of colours. The crowd roared with excitement.

  "See what I mean?" he said and he thrust his thin finger out towards the raging bonfire.

  "It's just fireworks. I think they're quite beautiful, actually. You must have forgotten what it was like to be young, Simon."

  "When I was young, I didn't behave in such a disruptive way."

  "Oh, no?" Sarah laughed sarcastically. "I am betting that when you were young, you had things on your mind other than being publicly wild and untamed."

  More fireworks leapt into the sky and showered above in a chaotic dance of bangs and fizzes.

  Simon gave Sarah a quizzical stare. "You condone this kind of behaviour?"

  "Of course not, but we all need to let it out once in a while." Sarah gazed up, followed more rockets as they rose and smiled as the vibrant colours filled the night sky. "They really are beautiful, aren't they?"

  Simon shook his head in despair, "I've had enough. I'm going inside now. You coming?"

  Sarah continued to watch the explosions in the sky. They soon became sporadic and consisted of mainly roman candles and sparklers, but it stirred excitement inside her. "In a minute," she replied. Simon rose from his chair and moved into the house, leaving Sarah to her own thoughts. She had not been out late at night like this for many years. As she watched the crowd in the field beyond, memories from when she was younger flooded her thoughts: memories of when she first met Gerald. Back then, she and Gerald would have been in the thick of the party, dancing, drinking and just letting go: living only for the moment. Suddenly she felt old and disconnected as if the part of her youth that chased after excitement and dreamed of the future was severed somewhere along the way. She continued to look out through the trees at the shadows and dark silhouettes as they shifted about the bonfire. She sighed heavily and understood now that maybe it wasn't all Gerald's fault. She let herself be severed and cut off from all that she desired. It was really her own damn fault that she lost so much of her life living in Gerald's shadow.

  She watched the fire and listened to the crowd. It was strange, but a part of her suddenly missed Gerald as she used to know him. Maybe it really was her own fault that he treated her the way he did.

  Another roar erupted from the crowd across the field, and Sarah wished she were a part of it. She closed her eyes and let
her mind drift back to when life was good: back to a time when she laughed with not a care in the world. Gerald was there. Gerald was a part of all of her good memories and her bad ones.

  She sighed again heavily, opened her eyes and watched the group for another few minutes before she finally followed Simon inside for the night.

  CHAPTER 59

  The shower rooms inside Spy Hill consisted of two large, tiled rooms with a half dozen shower heads along the outside wall. The shower rooms were separated by a central area that contained an array of benches and towels at one end where the boys would dry themselves off before getting dressed. The other end of the central section had a number of sinks, urinals and toilets.

  A fresh clean set of inmate's underwear, clothing and drying towel was set out on a shelf above a name tag for each of the boys.

  Tommy was busy drying himself alongside four other inmates from his dorm when Doogie and boys from the other dorm were escorted inside by a guard. Doogie grinned as he spotted Tommy. The guard stayed momentarily and then left to wait outside.

  "I heard about yous friends," Doogie said smartly. "Dumb asses can't even breaks into a house without getting caughts and hurting themselves."

  Tommy looked up. "What?"

  "Yous friends." Doogie smiled again and began to undress.

  Tommy shook his head from side to side. He clearly didn’t understand what Doogie was teasing him about.

  "Yous friends," Doogie repeated slower this time. It was obvious that Doogie was quite enjoying this moment. "That dumb lame kid Bobby and his side kick Ricky. Those two friends of yous."

  "I still don't know what you're talking about."

  "Holy shit, Oliver. I guess you hasn't heard. Those two bust into yous house a couple of nights ago. Grad night. Bobby got caughts red handed, and Ricky bust his arm up pretty good trying to gets away." Doogie laughed. "What a bunch of dorks! Can't even breaks into a house!"

  Tommy wasn't laughing. "I didn’t hear that. What happened?"

  Doogie was now fully undressed and stood naked opposite Tommy ready to head into the shower with the others from his dorm. "Yous heard me. They bust a window and broke into yous house." He paused and laughed again. "Oh ya. Let me get this right." He pointed at Tommy, doing his best to provoke some kind of reaction. "They broke in to what used to be yous home. Throws a rock at the front window and climbs inside."