Girl Across the Water

by Jody Kihara

  “Dad, she’s still signaling!” I yelled. “And I think her

  flashlight is about to die — we have to go get her!”

  Grimly, Dad took Jasper’s lifejacket and put it on.

  Even though Jasper was on the large side, it didn’t fit Dad

  well; he could snap the lower strap shut, but not the chest

  one.

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  “Is it rated for adults?” I asked.

  “It’ll have to do,” Dad said.

  I was kind of worried, but reassured by the fact

  Dad’s weight couldn’t be a whole lot more than Jasper’s.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and behind us, the wind gave a

  howl.

  “I don’t think you should go!” Jasper wailed. “If

  there’s someone out there, they can just wait till the

  storm’s past, right? They won’t die or anything!”

  “But Jasper, she’s signaling!” I pointed out.

  Jasper was still making protests as Dad and I got

  into the canoe. Dad sat in the stern and I sat in the bow

  with the flashlight gripped between my knees. Not that it

  would help us much: it could only shine about ten feet

  ahead in the darkness. I had to hope the Girl would keep

  signaling, or else we could be in real trouble trying to find

  our way there.

  We paddled in the direction of the island, but the girl

  must not have realized we’d need her to guide us; either

  that, or her flashlight had died. The wind was blowing hard

  and the waves on the lake were choppy and irregular,

  buffeting the side of the canoe and making it rock.

  “Can you see where we’re going?” Dad called out.

  “Yes!” I lied. Someone was on that island, and they

  needed our help, so we had to try. But the canoe rocked

  harder, and I could feel water sloshing around my feet as

  waves splashed over the sides.

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  “Paul, this isn’t good! I think we should turn back!”

  “We’re almost there!” I said.

  “What? I can’t hear you!”

  I turned around. “I’m sure we’re almost there!” But

  the truth was, I could barely see the island. It suddenly

  occurred to me, how would we see the beach? If we didn’t

  guide the canoe to it… we could crash on the jagged rocks.

  “Paul, I think we’re going to have to turn back!

  Whoever is there, they’re safer on the island than in this

  canoe.” And then we both realized― “Dammit!” Dad cursed.

  “The lifejacket!”

  How could we have been so stupid? We’d been in

  such a rush and occupied with the fact Dad’s lifejacket was

  missing that we’d completely forgotten, we had no spare

  lifejacket for a passenger! And there was no way we could

  put a person into the canoe without a lifejacket, not at

  night and in this crazy weather.

  “You’re right!” I yelled over the howl of the wind.

  “We can’t take them anyway!”

  “Okay, I’m turning us around. They’ll just have to

  wait the night out and we’ll go get them in the morning, or

  phone for help.”

  It was as Dad was turning the canoe that I heard it,

  faintly and between gusts of wind — the sound of an

  engine.

  “Dad, do you hear that?”

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  “What?” he yelled back.

  But I didn’t turn around again, because I wanted to

  paddle as hard as I could. The cabin was completely lit up,

  so finding our way back wouldn’t be a problem.

  Then I heard it again, much clearer, coming from

  down the lake — it was the sound of a motorboat. They’re

  coming to get the girl! I thought excitedly. Even though it

  should have ticked me off that this likely proved this was all

  a prank, I was relieved to know The Girl was going to get

  help, and that there was no real danger.

  The noise grew louder, but the way it reflected off

  the water or was carried by the wind made it sound like it

  was heading for us rather than the island.

  And then, a few seconds later, I made out the shape

  in the darkness — the motorboat was bearing straight down

  on us! Why didn’t they have a light? All boats had to, at

  night. “Dad!” I hollered.

  He turned and saw it. “Paul! LIGHT!” he bellowed.

  Suddenly clueing in to what he meant, I turned to

  shine our flashlight directly at the motorboat, praying

  they’d see it in time — it was all we could do, as they were

  almost on top of us.

  The motorboat made a sharp swerve to starboard,

  veering away from shore and towards the island, missing

  us by what seemed like ten feet. As it sped away, the huge

  wave it cast came our way, ready to hit us side-on, the

  worst way possible.

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  “Wave!” I yelled, but we didn’t have time to turn the

  bow of the canoe.

  It took us fully side on, and tossed us. I tried to

  jump as I was thrown, so that I wouldn’t be hit by the side

  of the canoe as it tipped over. I plunged into the cold water

  and the canoe smacked down, the side of it missing my

  head by a couple of feet. I shook my head, trying to get

  water out of my hair and eyes so I could see. “Dad!” I

  yelled, panicked he’d gone under. The flashlight was gone,

  and waves kept hitting me - I couldn’t see a thing. “Dad!” I

  screamed. If he hadn’t had item to jump, the canoe might

  have hit him and he could be unconscious―

  “Dad!” I yelled again, swimming towards the stern.

  My lifejacket was bunched up under my arms, preventing

  me from swimming properly, and I was tempted to rip it

  off. But I knew better, especially in the dark with the high

  waves around me. After taking a few mouthfuls of water as

  waves hit me in the face, I grabbed for the canoe,

  spluttering and trying to hang on to the slippery side as I

  looked around for Dad.

  With a gasp, he came up. “Paul!”

  “Dad!”

  “You okay? Thank God!”

  “Where were you? I couldn’t see you!”

  “Under the canoe. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” I coughed. “Just freezing.”

  “Daaaaad!” came Jasper’s wail from shore. “Paul!”

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  “We need to turn the canoe over!” I yelled to Dad.

  “Forget it! Just swim.”

  He was right — the canoe was too unwieldy, and

  with the waves so high it wasn’t worth the risk of staying in

  the cold water any longer. We swam back to shore, our

  lifejackets making it much harder work than it should have

  been.

  Finally we got there. We stumbled out of the lake as

  soon as our feet touched ground. Dad was pulling me

  along, even though I didn’t need his help, and Jasper was

  standing there screaming and crying. “I’m so sorry! I’m so

  sorry!”

  “Not your fault,” I gasped as we staggered towards

  th
e cabin.

  “But it is!” Jasper wailed. “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,

  it’s my fault! I’m so sorry!” He burst into tears, crying in

  toddler-like wails, like one of us had just died or something.

  My head was a whirl of shock and adrenalin, so I

  didn’t pay much attention to him, figuring it was the usual

  Jasper cowardice-and-drama. Dad and I stumbled up the

  cabin steps, flinging our lifejackets onto the ground, and

  staggered inside. We were soaking, freezing, and shaking.

  “Go take a hot shower, right now,” Dad ordered.

  “You first,” I wheezed, but he propelled me into the

  bathroom.

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  Jasper was crying like a two-year-old, I mean really

  screaming-crying, and I wished he’d shut up; it was like

  having a chainsaw going on in the background.

  I tossed my wet clothes onto the bathroom floor and

  turned the water on full force. As soon as it ran hot, I got

  under the shower, and it felt so good. I had to remind

  myself to be quick so that Dad could get in ― otherwise, I

  could have stayed there for an hour.

  I resolutely shut off the water, wrapped myself in a

  towel, and opened the door. Cold air hit me. “Your turn,” I

  croaked, but Dad didn’t need to be told — he’d been

  waiting right there, and headed straight in as I left. “Put on

  your warmest clothes,” he said over his shoulder. Like I

  needed to be told. “Jasper, put on the kettle!” he added

  before closeting the door.

  I ran upstairs and dried myself briskly, wishing the

  cabin had heating. Maybe Jasper was building a fire in the

  fireplace right now. That would be perfect.

  After putting on my one remaining pair of jeans,

  then thick socks, two T-shirts and my jacket, I went back

  downstairs.

  Not only was Jasper not building a fire, the kettle

  wasn’t even on. He was lying face down on the sofa,

  sobbing his guts out.

  “Oh, for God’s sake Jasper!” I snapped. I couldn’t

  help it — my adrenalin was up, and Jasper’s uselessness

  was like a match tossed onto a tinderbox. “Get up and do

  something useful! Why are you never any help in these

  situations? All you do is make things worse!”

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  This made him sob into the sofa cushions even

  harder. “Build a fire or something!” I yelled. “Or at least put

  the damn kettle on like Dad said.”

  I didn’t think I had the strength to build a fire, so I

  put the kettle on and turned the oven on too —that would

  heat the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry!” At least that’s what it sounded like

  Jasper wailed into the cushions. His voice was muffled, but

  I thought I identified the words, “It’s all my fault!”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked grumpily. I

  longed to slump onto the sofa, but Jasper was taking up

  the whole thing, and someone really needed to build a fire.

  I walked into the dark living room and tossed logs

  randomly into the fire, then jammed some newspapers

  underneath for kindling. Not wanting spend long getting the

  fire going, I broke the entire box of fire starter into cubes

  and wedged them in between the logs. Then I lit the

  protruding bits of newspaper and flopped down in front of

  the fireplace, waiting for the blaze.

  Jasper turned his head, making his sniffles more

  audible. “I’m so sorry!”

  “Stop saying that!” I sighed. “It’s not your fault, but

  you’d make things a lot better if you’d help out now.” I

  wondered if the motorboat had picked up the girl. I was too

  tired to go look out the window, and I likely wouldn’t be

  able to see anything anyway.

  “But it is my fault!” he insisted in a high whine. “He

  said it was just a joke! He said no one would get hurt! But

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  you did! You almost drowned! You could have di-i-ied!” His

  speech dissolved into sobs again.

  I turned my head. “What?”

  Jasper continued to sob.

  “What did you just say? What joke? Who’s ‘he’?”

  Panic, suspicion, and anger bubbled up inside of me… but

  mostly suspicion. “Jasper, what are you talking about?”

  He kept his eyes shut as he sobbed out, “My dad! He

  said it was all just a prank and that he just wanted to shake

  things up, but that nothing bad would happen!”

  I froze, my eyes wide. Dad came out of the

  bathroom, and I yelled, “Dad, go get changed, and get

  down here fast!” He took in the scene, frowning, and

  obeyed me.

  “What are you saying?” I demanded of Jasper. “That

  Revo had something to do with this? The whole girl on the

  island thing?”

  “I’m so-o-o-or-ry!” Jasper wailed again, and I had

  the urge to get up and hit him.

  “Jasper, stop crying and tell me what this is all

  about!”

  Dad came down the stairs, in his clothes, but with

  his towel still around his neck. He continued to dry his hair,

  asking, “What’s going on?”

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  I jumped up. “Ask Jasper! If you can get sense out

  of him, that is. apparently Revo was behind all this. And

  Jasper knew it!”

  “What?” Dad asked incredulously. Mid-toweling his

  hair, he stopped moving, and let the towel slip from his

  grasp. It fell to the floor.

  “Ask him!” I shouted.

  Jasper had put his face back in the cushion, and was

  sobbing again.

  Dad went over and although he put his hand on

  Jasper’s arm gently, but is voice was firm. “Jasper, what’s

  going on? Is what Paul said true?”

  “Oh sure, ask if I’m lying!” I exploded. I’d had

  enough of people not believing me.

  “Into the kitchen,” Dad ordered. I wasn’t sure at first

  if he meant me or Jasper, but seeing as he was hauling

  Jasper up by the arm, I guessed he meant all of us.

  He sat Jasper in a chair and pulled his own right in

  front of it so that he could hold Jasper by the arms and give

  him a quick shake. “Jasper, pull yourself together! If you

  have something to tell us, you need to do it right now.”

  Jasper looked down at the floor, tears still running

  down his fat cheeks — he couldn’t face us. “I’m sorry,” he

  whispered for about the hundredth time. I felt my blood

  begin to boil.

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  Dad and I glanced at each other. Dad seemed to be

  keeping his cool, but I could see from his face he was

  almost as mad as I was.

  “From the beginning,” he ordered.

  Jasper gave a protracted sniff, and when he began

  speaking, his words came out in a babyish voice. “He said it

  was just a prank. I mean, it was just to scare you a little,

  but he said he had to because you made Mom cut him off,

>   and if he couldn’t get any money then he’d have to go

  away and he might never see me again! ” His words

  dissolved into sobs again.

  Dad an I exchanged glances again, this time worried

  ones. This was all some plot of Revo’s… to get money?

  “Jasper,” Dad demanded, “How was he going to use

  this to get money? By scaring Paul? What was his plan?”

  “I don’t know,” Jasper wailed. “He wasn’t really

  clear. He said something about… shaking things up… and…

  and…” He continued to cry. “I guess after the prank then he

  was going to ask you for money.”

  Dad’s jaw twitched with anger. I knew we were both

  thinking the same thing: Revo had gone to jail for some

  badly-planned cons in his time, but no plan could be as bad

  as this… there had to be more to it. Much, much more.

  Jasper wasn’t totally stupid; he probably hadn’t wanted to

  know, or had listened to some pack of lies Revo told him,

  and had gone along with it out of some screwed-up,

  misplaced loyalty.

  “So who is the girl?” I asked.

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  “She’s the neighbor’s kid,” Jasper said, still crying

  and looking at the floor. “It was all a joke. My Dad found

  out about the story of the girl in the woods, and she

  happened to look just like her and…” The rest got

  incoherent.

  I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “So

  Revo saw the neighbor kid and… what? How did he get

  them to go along with it? A bunch of strangers? And why

  was he even here?”

  “He knew them already, they’re friends…” Sob, sob,

  sob. I thought of the car I’d seen in the neighbor’s

  driveway that one time… Revo’s? Was that why Pa had

  been so hostile, and why the visitor had stayed hidden?

  “Jasper,” Dad said firmly. “Did Revo know about the

  will? Did he know I was busying tying up my father’s will

  right now?”

  My jaw dropped. Whoa. Dad was way ahead of me…

  but he was right. Revo wouldn’t put some elaborate plan

  together just for one of his usual, petty cash handouts.

  He’d have to be after something much bigger. And

  Grandfather’s will… that would be big, all right.

  Jasper stopped crying and looked up. “What?”

  There was no deceit in his eyes, just surprise.

  “The will. Did you tell Revo about it?”