Darkness Descends

by J. C. Kavanagh

  Connor smirked and then saluted. “Aye-aye Captain.” The two joined Max in the canoe.

  “Paddle!” Max shouted.

  The sound of the rushing water minimized Richard’s chants as Jayden and Connor paddled furiously. The air temperature was rising and pockets of fine mist floated over the river. They slowly moved away from shore.

  Max straddled his body behind the yoke, or centre bar of the canoe, keeping it balanced. A black zippered bag hung from the bar and he impatiently shoved it aside. Squinting ahead, he counted strokes, trying to estimate how far they had travelled. He couldn’t see the opposite shore through the misty patches but he could see Jayden’s back heaving to the rhythm of her paddling. It was then Max realized what was happening.

  “We’re heading back to shore! The wrong shore!” he shouted. “Connor – you have to steer!”

  “Steer?” Connor barked. “There’s no wheel. How do you steer a canoe?”

  Max cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at Jayden. “Don’t paddle so hard!”

  “What?”

  Max turned to Connor. “You mean you’ve never paddled a boat? Watch me... you steer using your paddle in a ‘J’ stroke.” Grabbing the wooden paddle, he demonstrated the act of turning the blade and sweeping it in a ‘J’ pattern through the water. He handed it back to Connor. “We don’t have time for this! Man, I thought you were a Jock; but check out Jayden... she’s paddling better than you.”

  Jayden continued her mighty strokes as Connor attempted to paddle and ‘J’ stroke at the same time. But powered by Jayden’s formidable sweeps, the canoe went around in a full circle.

  “What’s happening?” Jayden shouted.

  “You’re apparently stronger than Connor!”

  They could hear Richard’s chant echoing around them.

  “We have to get out of here!”

  The canoe began to move sideways in the river as the current of the Devil’s Door Rapids strengthened. They were drifting down the river instead of across it.

  “Paddle hard!” Max shouted. The steam seemed to be thickening as they paddled against the current. Connor finally matched pace with Jayden’s stroke as they struggled to travel across. Perspiration glistened on their foreheads and they redoubled their efforts to manipulate the canoe on a forward path. The air temperature was rising significantly and the mist loomed like a low-lying fog. The moon glared down from its peak in the black sky, its rays sparkling within the fog around them, like mini diamonds. Suddenly, a chorus of wolf howls wailed in the distance. It was a familiar, chilling sound.

  “It’s getting hotter and I can’t see through the mist,” hollered Jayden.

  “What did you say?” The water was lapping loudly against the hull of the canoe, drowning Jayden’s voice.

  Max leaned forward and his knee bumped into the zippered bag tied to the yoke. Curious, he unzipped it and peered inside.

  “What’s in the bag?” Connor asked.

  Max pulled out an unusual pair of goggles, holding them up like a peace offering to the moon. He gasped in delight when he realized what he held.

  “Oh yeah!” he hooted into the darkness “They’re night vision goggles!” They were similar to a pair he borrowed regularly from his next door neighbour.

  Max placed them over his eyes and adjusted the head strap. Immediately, the terrain was transformed into neon green and dark grey and he could see across the river and into the shadowy base of the squat mountain. They were heading in the wrong direction, though, and Max barked out new directions.

  “Connor, steer to port!”

  “In English,” Connor yelled. “Steer to the left?”

  “Yes, left!” replied Max. “Left equals port!”

  Max adjusted the goggle lenses to adapt to both the moonlight and the viscous waves of fog. He could see the current in the water moving on his right which meant they were travelling in the proper direction – across and not down the river.

  Jayden glanced back in mid-stroke. “What do you see? And what is that sound?”

  The calming rush of river water had slowly been replaced with a louder and more thunderous crashing sound.

  Max moved his head in slow motion to the right, analyzing the imagery illuminated through the goggles. Internal gauges on the perimeter of the viewfinder displayed distance and temperatures. Based on the temperature fluctuations, he detected numerous hot springs sluicing all around them. Straight ahead, about 60 metres according to the goggles, a sandy shoreline loomed. But to the right, the river appeared to fall off and the thunderous cascading sound was louder than ever. The strong current was pulling them toward it. Max knew what it was: Devil’s Door Waterfall.

  “Stay left! Jayden, give me some paddle power and Connor, steer hard to port – left!”

  Jayden renewed her efforts, bending forward with each stroke. She couldn’t distinguish river or land through the mist, and the crashing sound of water made it difficult to hear Max. She leaned forward and her foot touched something at the bottom of the canoe. It was a zippered bag. The shadows in the bow prevented her from identifying it and she kicked the bag into the moonlight. Hoping it contained another pair of goggles, she leaned forward, eagerly unzipping the bag with one hand. The moon finally evaded cloud cover and burst into brilliance just as Jayden reached in and touched a smooth, cool object. Grasping it firmly, she pulled on it but stopped suddenly. Whatever was in there was alive and squirming. Inhaling sharply and repulsed by the contact, Jayden released it in disgust. She withdrew her hand and then recoiled in horror as the bag rippled and undulated in slithering motions. There were no night-vision goggles in this bag.

  “Snakes! SNAKES!”

  Jayden bolted backward, falling into the bottom of the canoe. She rolled to one side in panic and the canoe tipped precariously. Her left hand still gripped the paddle while her right hand searched for support.

  Max grabbed hold of the gunwales, the topside of the canoe. “Be still or we’ll tip!”

  Jayden scrambled back as the moonlight became a spotlight on the snakes slithering out of the bag. The canoe tipped sideways again as she pulled herself in a semi-upright position in front of Max. Her paddle was dragging in the water and the force of the current yanked it out of her hand.

  Connor was scrambling with his paddle, bringing it from left to right in an attempt to stay on course while maintaining balance. But it was too late.

  The first snake lifted its head, poised to attack, and Jayden lurched to the left. Her sudden movement sent the canoe into capsize mode and before anyone could react, it overturned. She screamed helplessly as they were thrown into the hot, churning rapids.

  Chapter 11

  Destruction Complete

  The crashing sound of breaking glass woke her and Jayden sat up, puzzled. The bedroom in her mom’s apartment was in one piece, boring and bland, but nothing broken.

  Smash.

  Jayden bolted out of bed and into the hallway. “Ma?”

  Thunk.

  She flung open the door to her mom’s bedroom. The unmade bed was empty and in disarray. Jayden hurried down the hall to the kitchen. Empty.

  Smash.

  “Ma?” The shattering sound repeated itself and Jayden cocked her head, listening. That’s from outside. She strode to the window, pushed the dusty curtain to one side and peered out.

  “NO,” the word erupted from her mouth while her body slouched in shock, her innards contracting as if she’d been sucker-punched.

  Her mom stood in the parking lot below, wearing the same clothes as the day before. She was gripping a long-handled crowbar and slamming it over and over on Jayden’s new Jeep. After each strike, she’d stand back and cry, “Take that!” The front window was smashed in several places, the headlights broken, the hood and doors all dented and split. And still her mother raised the crowbar. Whack. “Take that!”

  Heart racing, Jayden threw a hoodie over her pjs and hustled out the door. This can’t be happening. She sprinted down the st
airs, two at a time, until she reached the outer door. Slamming it open, she screamed, “STOP!”

  Her mom had the crowbar in an upward arc but she ignored Jayden and continued her swing. The crowbar bounced off the driver’s side mirror, snapping the metal frame. The mirror shards fell to the ground with a tinkling sound. Panting with exertion, her mom paused, resting the heavy metallic end of the crowbar on the ground. She leaned against the battered Jeep, dug deep into the front pocket of her jean jacket and slowly pulled out a package of cigarettes.

  “Want one?” she gestured as Jayden approached.

  Jayden dropped to her knees. “What have you done?” she whispered. Her Jeep was ruined.

  “Why, Ma?” she cried out in anguish. “Why?”

  With hands shaking, Patty Watson-Nanjee lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Cuz you don’t deserve a car. In fact,” she slurred, “you don’t deserve anything nice. But I do.”

  Jayden choked back a sob.

  Her mother was angry and intoxicated: a destructive combination. Her bloodshot green eyes twinkled a manic tango with her dark eyebrows. Jayden secretly loved watching that animation and usually was spellbound by the dancing eyebrows in sync with the twinkling eyes. But not this morning.

  “Oh, Ma,” Jayden cried. “You can’t hate me that much.”

  “I have nothing because of you,” Patty spat out. “Nobody loves me… and it’s your fault! You! You cut it out and took it,” she screamed, spittle flying in all directions. “Right here,” she pounded on her own chest. “Here.”

  “What?” asked Jayden, trembling and totally confused. “What did I do?”

  “This hole... in my heart.” Patty pounded again at her chest and then fell to her knees in front of Jayden. “You did it.” Black mascara-stained tears formed rivulets down her cheeks, tracing pathways that ended on her upper lip. One by one, the black tears dripped off and fell like liquid darkness, onto her denim jacket. “No matter what I do or how much I drink, I can’t… I just can’t fill the hole.” Releasing the crowbar, Patty slumped face-first to the ground, sobbing hysterically.

  A small crowd had formed behind Jayden and she turned to glare at them, pointing in the direction of the building. “Go away!”

  The building superintendent stood at the front of the crowd, scratching his head in consternation. “Jayden,” he called out. “Can I do something? Call someone?”

  “I said GO AWAY.”

  He raised his hands in a calming gesture and backed up. “Sure. Whatever you say.” He turned and began shooing the others back to their apartments. Those with camera-phones reluctantly stopped recording and walked slowly out of the parking lot.

  Jayden pulled the hood over her head in an attempt to hide her face. Her mom’s sobs were fading, replaced with the sloppy hiccups of intoxication. Jayden’s mind swirled with conflicting emotions: hit mom / hug mom / pretend it didn’t happen. Instead, she pulled Patty to her feet, allowing the sneaky arms of sympathy to creep into her consciousness. There’s a hole in Ma’s heart and she says I did it. Jayden tried to make sense of that profound statement, but it was beyond her comprehension. Mother and daughter stood face to face, Jayden trembling with anger and Patty in a zombie-like state. After a few minutes, Jayden’s anger decreased and she took several deep breaths. Her mom lowered her head and closed her eyes. She seemed to be on the verge of passing out.

  Still struggling with an assortment of contradictory emotions, Jayden reached out and steadied her mom. Leave her here, part of her mind screamed, while the other half said, Bring her home.

  The greater emotion took control and Jayden placed an arm around her mom’s waist, guiding her home.

  * * *

  Knock, knock.

  Jayden peered through the eyepiece of the apartment door. The superintendent was standing in the hallway with a sheet of paper in his hand.

  Jayden opened the door a crack. “Yes?”

  “Is, uh, is your mom here? I need to speak with her.”

  “What do you think?” Jayden responded. “She’s passed out and won’t be talking to anyone for oh, probably the rest of the day.” She scowled at him. “What do you want?”

  “Well, see, I have a list of tow-truck operators here,” he explained, waving the sheet of paper in front of her, “in case you haven’t called one yet.” He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Um, shall I call the police? File a report on your behalf?”

  “No,” Jayden responded.

  “Well, um, you see, you can’t leave your vehicle parked here in that condition.” His face was straining with false nonchalance. “If you don’t have it towed today, I will have to do it for you. And there will be charges incurred.” He shifted nervously again, trying to gauge Jayden’s reaction as he flashed the paper toward her face. “Cash is what I’ll need from you. Or from your mom. I don’t do credit cards for matters like this.”

  Anger coursed once again through Jayden’s veins. “Take your list and... well, you know what you can do with it!” She slammed the door and shouted through it. “I’ll take care of a tow truck myself!”

  Jayden strode into the kitchen, her chest heaving with anger and her green eyes red with unshed tears. She picked up a half-filled bottle of liquor from the counter and poured it down the drain. Every bottle of liquor in the apartment was emptied in the same fashion. Her eyes were burning from the alcohol vapours by the time she finished pouring out the last bottle. With a wracking sob, Jayden finally succumbed to the drum-beating demand that came from the depths of her heart. She sat on the floor and cried. Her sobs were quiet at first, but the rage and the sorrow had been simmering for so long and for so many years, the emotion stampeded out of her with its own convulsive energy. She hugged her knees and sobbed until she thought there couldn’t possibly be any more tears. Then the image of her mom kneeling beside the bashed Jeep came to mind and her wailing resumed. Time passed and the dusty clock on the dirty beige wall ticked onward, its monotonous beats burning through Jayden’s anguish. The clock’s steady tempo eventually soothed her spirit and she became absorbed in its hypnotic beat.

  The wail of a distant ambulance broke Jayden’s trance. She glanced at the clock above her – 8:30. Realizing that school was not going to be part of her morning plan, she washed and dressed without haste. Combing her long black hair into a side ponytail, Jayden inspected her face. I look like I’ve seen a bag of snakes and a bashed-up Jeep. Her eyebrows arched upward as if in surprise. Dang, I actually did! She made a puckered duck face and stepped to within inches of the mirror. So, who likes me now?

  Jayden shifted internal gears, and in her mind she erased the image of finger pointing at herself and her mom. “It’s MY life,” she said through clenched teeth. “I cannot, will not do it anymore. Ma wallows in self-pity and, as of today, I refuse to be like her.”

  Jayden strode to the kitchen with renewed purpose. She flipped through the screens on her cell phone and considered her next move. She thought about calling her dad but decided that towing and repairing the Jeep was her problem, one that she had to fix. My crossing point. Sighing, she continued scrolling. The most recent ‘Contact’ number appeared – it belonged to Max. He had added it the day her dad bought the Jeep.

  “Ah, the dealership,” she whispered. “Maybe Max can help me.”

  Pulling up his number, she began to type a text message.

  Max – it’s me, Jayden. Crazy dream last night in the canoe, right? Crazy request for you now, though. Jayden hit the ‘Send’ button.

  A moment later, she continued with another text.

  Jeep needs a tow. Needs body work. Jayden hesitated and then added the words ‘lots of.’ Needs lots of body work. Send.

  Can you help me? Send.

  Twirling her ponytail with one hand, Jayden waited patiently for his response.

  HEY texted Max.

  U r crazy tipping us over like that. He added an icon depicting a crazy-face. Jayden grimaced at the recollection of the snakes in the ba
g.

  Max continued. U just bought the Jeep and u need a tow? Already? U crazy, girl.

  Jayden couldn’t help but grin. The genius boy had a way with words.

  Jeep got banged up, she texted in reply. Can your dad’s place fix it?

  Max’s response was immediate. Yup. I’ll text him. Where 2 send the tow truck?

  My mom’s place. She texted the address.

  I’m at school, Max responded. My dad or his peeps will be in touch. Talk later.

  Within minutes, Mr. Mortimer, Max’s father, was on the phone with Jayden.

  “That was fast,” Jayden stated. “I just finished texting with Max.”

  “Customer service is our specialty at Maximum Drive,” Mr. Mortimer stated. “That and the fact you’ve left a great impression with my sons.” He paused and added, “Especially Max.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Jayden responded. What do I say to that?

  “Can I hitch a ride with the tow truck driver?” she asked, bypassing his comment.

  “But, of course,” Mr. Mortimer declared. “I see from Max’s text that you live in the next county, but I can arrange a ride back home, if you need it.”

  “Well, thank you, I just might take you up on that.”

  With a promise that the tow truck would be there before noon, Jayden hung up. She grabbed the keys to the Jeep and a broom. She had plenty of time to sweep up the broken glass.

  * * *

  “You’ll need to press charges.”

  Jayden squirmed in her seat while Mr. Mortimer smoothed back his slick, oiled hair. They were in his office at the dealership, discussing payment options for the Jeep’s repair.

  He leaned forward and tapped his pen on an open document. “It states right here, your insurance won’t cover the repair costs unless you file a police report.”