by Jody Kihara
“Could you?” I leaned my head against the glass for
a second, hoping it would cool my churning mind.
“Sure, I guess. But if you’re thinking about the kid
you saw, this was ten years ago.” She tapped above the
date and looked at me searchingly, like I was too stupid to
figure it out. “This person would be eighteen by now.”
She headed back to her desk anyway, and began
tapping at her keyboard. After a few minutes, she said,
“No, looks like that one never was solved. The case was
closed, though, even though a body was never found. It’s
assumed she drowned.”
I swallowed. My legs felt wobbly, like my bones had
all turned to jelly.
No body found...
That was ten years ago, I reminded myself.
Giving myself a shake, I turned to leave. “Thanks,” I
remembered to mumble over my shoulder.
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The Girl Across the Water
Stepping outside was like stepping into an oven. I
could even see the ripples of heat waves rising off the road.
I stood there blinking for a moment, wondering what to do
next. Then, to my relief, I caught sight of Dad’s truck. I ran
up to it. No sign of Dad, but that was okay. As long as I
hung around, I was guaranteed a ride home. I stood there
squinting, wishing I’d brought my sunglasses. It was so hot
that sweat was actually running off my forehead. When I
went to lean up against the truck, I jumped away — the
sides were like a frying pan. I guzzled down my Coke, but
didn’t touch the Mars bar; I could tell through the wrapper
that it was already half-melted.
Dad finally emerged from a small office and came
walking across the street, swinging a large brown envelope
in his hand. When he saw me, he gave a huge smile. “Hey
Paul, what are you doing here?”
“I walked in.”
His smile faded. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine… I just felt like checking out the town.”
He grinned again. “Bored of the lake already? Or is it
the company?” Then he looked kind of abashed and said, “I
didn’t mean... what I meant was, maybe you’re bored
without any girls around. Oh heck… look, is everything okay
with you and Jasper?”
“Jasper’s fine.” I didn’t usually talk to my Dad about
girls and stuff, but without Jasper there, it was so different.
Like Dad realized I was growing up, like we were becoming
equals. “Well... there is this really cute girl at the grocery
store...”
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The Girl Across the Water
“Oh, yeah! Couldn't help but notice her.” He gave
me a wink. “Mandy, right?”
“Dad! ” I didn’t know whether to laugh or be shocked.
We both climbed into the truck. The drive back was
fun; it wasn’t often I got to spend time alone with Dad. I’d
forgotten how much he could make me laugh, and it made
me wish we could do this kind of thing more often. Just the
two of us.
On the way, he said, “So, I’ve almost got all the
loose ends tied up with your grandfather’s will. Sorry that
had to run into our vacation, there are just so many details
and formalities and processes I have to go through.”
“That’s okay,” I said. I knew I should have felt
sadder about my grandfather dying, but truthfully I hadn’t
liked him that much. I mean, I didn’t dislike him, I just
found him kind of cold. He’d had kids really late in life, like
in his forties or something, so he was much older than my
friends’ grandparents, and definitely of a different
generation. He had a big old mansion with a huge ‘study’,
in which he spent most of his time, reading and, well,
studying. It seemed a bit pointless to me, though, because
if you learn all this stuff and then you don’t really do
anything with it before you die, well, isn’t it all a huge
waste?
I had barely known my grandmother because she
died when I was six, and that seemed sadder; the little I
remembered of her, she’d been really nice.
“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to tell you about the
will. You know your grandfather was pretty well off, right?”
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The Girl Across the Water
“Uh… I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, he
lived in that huge house, but he didn’t drive an expensive
car or give us big presents or anything.”
Dad laughed. “Well, that’s often how rich people get
rich. And stay rich — they don’t give a lot away.”
I marveled that my Dad had turned out so friendly
with such a cold person for a father. I guess that was his
mom’s doing.
“No, he kept it well stashed away, and invested a
lot. So your inheritance is going to be pretty substantial.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”
“He left the majority to me and your Uncle Jack, but
a portion goes directly to you. Except that it stays locked
up in a trust fund until you’re twenty-one. And then if
anything happens to me, my portion of his will goes to you.
Not to Vanessa and Jasper. that was the tricky part of the
will; he’d specified that. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them,
just… well, he figured his money should only go to his
family, and I guess didn’t see them as family even though
Vanessa and I have been married almost two years now.”
I glanced over at Dad, wondering if this made him
mad at all. But he seemed cheerful enough, and I could see
that Grandfather’s old-fashioned ideas wouldn’t have been
too accepting of the new wife, especially as she came with
a kid. Plus, although we weren’t rich, we were far from
poor, so it’s not like we desperately needed Grandfather’s
money.
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The Girl Across the Water
But knowing this sum of money was waiting there
for me was interesting… I wondered how much it was.
Twenty-one was a long time away, though — practically
forever! “So will you be able to release any of my trust fund
money before I’m twenty-one?” I asked. “Say, like, when
I’m sixteen? And need a car?”
Dad laughed. “Nope, I can’t, and even if I could, I
wouldn’t. If you want a car, you’ll have to get a part-time
job and start saving now, because I want my son to learn
the value of money. Sorry, Paul, no shiny red convertible
waiting in the driveway on your sixteenth birthday.”
I pretended to sulk, but I’d always known it would be
that way. A minute later we were joking again, and the
whole thing was forgotten about. Well, apart from the
convertible — that was worth thinking about. Maybe after
vacation was a good time to get my first job…
Dad turned off the main road, and the truck rumbled
up the road into the woods, lurching over dips and
potholes. The groceries Dad had bought were bouncing
around in the back. As soon as we arrived, Jasper came
running up. “What did you buy?”
I wasn’t sure if he meant my fictitious fishing gear or
the groceries. He went straight for the groceries. “Here,” I
said, tossing him my Mars bar. He turned too late, missing
the catch. It fell to the ground, but he snatched it up and
said “Thanks!”, genuinely surprised, like I’d just handed
him a hundred dollars.
I snuck away to get ready for my trip back to the
island, wondering what went on in Jasper’s life that the a
chocolate bar could make him so happy. Not just happy,
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The Girl Across the Water
but surprised. Maybe I’d been a lot less nice to him than I
realized.
It was easy to siphon off some snack food while Dad
and Jasper unpacked the groceries. You’d have thought
Jasper would have been tearing into the junk food, but the
strange thing was, he loved putting food away in cupboards
and stacking it up neatly. He was the one who’d tell me off
for leaving boxes open or all jumbled up.
I decided to make our lunch so that I could wrap up
an extra two sandwiches for The Girl.
After lunch, which consisted of sandwiches, fruit and
chips, and Jasper’s homemade lemonade (what d’you
know? ― the kid was really good at cooking), I grabbed my
backpack and headed for the canoe.
I turned and glanced over my shoulder as I walked
away. “Uh, you don’t want to come, do you?”
“No, thanks!” Jasper replied cheerfully, sweeping his
arm in the direction of the picnic table to indicate his ‘desk’
full of comics.
“I won’t be long!” I shouted back.
Dad waved.
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The Girl Across the Water
Chapter 6
I canoed to the island with swift, even strokes. I
seemed to be getting faster each time. Along with the food
in my pack, I’d brought a flashlight, some note paper, and
two blankets, even though the girl had said she didn’t need
any. I didn’t see how she couldn’t, though; I just wished I
had a tent to bring along.
My heart sped up as I approached the island. I kept
telling myself that the photo in the police station had to be
some weird coincidence. After all, I'd seen her in person.
And I'd seen her eat.
I hauled the canoe up onto the beach and scanned
the area. “Hello!”
No girl emerged from the bushes. No problem, she
was probably still hiding, and her hideout could be
anywhere in the vast tangle of foliage . “It’s me, Paul!” I
called out, loudly enough that she could hear me but not so
that my voice would carry across the water.
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The Girl Across the Water
I waited for her to appear. Still nothing, and there
were no sounds of anyone making their way through the
brush. I began to feel impatient and twitchy. All this work
for her; hadn’t she been watching for my arrival? She was
real, right? the little voice inside my head asked.
Grunting in frustration, I shouldered my pack and
pushed my way to the clearing. My legs and arms were
once again scratched by thorns and branches, as I made
my way in, and the higher branches made zipping sounds
as they clawed at my backpack. When I reached the
clearing, it was empty. Hmm. I’d seen her disappear
towards the far side of the island the last time, so I forced
my way through the bushes in that direction, pushing
through tangled branches, twigs snapping into my face the
whole time. “Hello?” I called again.
I stood still for a minute, listening. From behind me
came a ‘ crack. ’ I swung around. “Hey! You there?”
Silence.
“Look, if you’re playing a joke, you can quit it. I
brought this stuff to help you, remember? Now hurry up
and come out.”
Another ‘ crack’ came, this time from the opposite
direction. Fed up with this game, yet at the same time
worried, I turned and charged towards the sound, holding
my backpack in front of me as a face shield. I pushed on
like a soldier running through a war zone, ignoring the
branches clawing at my arms and legs. I pretended I was in
a war movie set in the jungle, with my Sarge yelling “Go,
go, go!” right in my ear. I’d had enough of this girl’s
weirdness: I was determined to find her. But with the
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The Girl Across the Water
backpack in front of my face, I couldn't see where I was
going, and my front foot suddenly plunged into thin air.
I yelled and tossed the backpack to one side,
instinctively throwing myself down to the other. My arms
gripped the trunk of a small tree, my face pressing into its
base, before I even knew what had happened. Clinging to
the tree, I tentatively lifted my head. My body was on solid
ground, one leg curled behind me, my forward leg was
hanging… right over the edge of the cliff. “Jeez!” I shouted.
My insides were trembling, but my hands were glued to
that tree. I don't think I could have let go at that point,
even if I'd wanted. Slowly, still clinging, I raised my torso.
It seemed I was all in one piece, unbroken, unhurt; but the
sight of the lake water thirty feet below my dangling foot
was enough to make my heart do triple-beats. I’d almost
run straight over the edge!
I swung my front leg all the way back, only letting
go of the tree when my entire body rested on solid ground.
I lay there on my stomach, clinging to the grass, peering at
the cliff edge. When my nerves had steadied a bit, I
shuffled forward so that I could look over.
The water appeared perfectly calm, although my
memory of only a few seconds ago saw it as huge, crashing
waves. I guess my rocketing adrenalin had distorted
everything. There didn’t appear to be any rocks below, but
still I had no idea how deep ― or more to the point, shallow
― the water was. I couldn't help but wonder, with morbid
fascination, what would've happened if I’d gone straight
over. Jeez!
I flopped onto my back and lay there panting, my
insides vibrating. When my breathing finally steadied, I
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The Girl Across the Water
raised my head and looked around for my backpack. There
it was, lying at the cliff edge a few feet from me, flopped
over like it, too, was recovering from a minor heart attack.
I got up to retrieve it. Gripping another tree branch,
I leaned forward to stare once more at the water below.
Then, in angry determination, I swung around and went
crashing through the foliage back down the slope — this
time watching where I was going.
I must have searched every square foot of that
island, and the girl was nowhere to be found. Finally, I
stomped back to the beach and sat down in the canoe like
Jasper had, but with my arms crossed, fuming. I was still
shaking, partially from th
e cliff experience, partially from
anger. Then I jumped out of the canoe again, kicking at
rocks on the beach. “Where are you? ” I shouted at the top
of my voice, not caring if Dad or Jasper could hear me from
the shore.
She was gone. What did it mean?
My anger evaporated, to be replaced by an unsettled
feeling. I wasn't sure whether it was some kind of post-
stress comedown or whether The Girl was spooking me out
again. I tried to put out of my mind the newspaper clipping
in the police station.
That was ten years ago…
I glanced around.
Well, I was leaving the stupid supplies, anyway. I
made my way to the small clearing, almost hoping she
didn’t appear — another shock probably would've finished
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The Girl Across the Water
me off. I almost laughed, then, imagining the shout I’d give
if those dark eyes were to suddenly materialize.
I didn’t know what was going on any more.
Nevertheless, I unpacked the food, blankets, and flashlight,
piled them up along with the note I’d written, and weighed
it all down with a rock.
Here’s the food and some blankets. I brought the
flashlight so you can signal to me. I can see the island from
my bedroom window, and I'll be watching for you at night.
One flash for Hello
Two flashes for I’m okay
Three flashes for I Need Help.
I’ll be back tomorrow.
Paul.
Tired now, I walked back to the canoe, sweat
stinging as it settled into my scratched skin. I reached for
my lifejacket, and only then noticed the state of my arms
and legs. It wasn’t sweat that was making my skin sting:
my T-shirt and shorts were in tatters. Criss-cross slashes of
blood stood out on my skin where I’d been scratched by
razor-sharp branches, and my right knee was bruised,
probably from hitting the ground. Dad was going to freak
out when he saw me! ― I looked like I’d been in a fight
with a tiger.
I debated going for a swim to get rid of all the blood
and sweat. Plus, it might cool down my churning anger and
adrenalin. But after the near-accident at the cliff, I wanted
to get off the island as soon as possible, and so I pushed
the canoe away, hopped in, and paddled away. After a few