And the Creek Don't Rise

by R. M. Gilmore

  Puck dragged a shaky breath through his nose, eager, ravenous, begging me to gobble him up whole. My girl, a wild thing meant for unearthly doings, licked hidden chops, eager in her own right for the familiar taste of fae skin. I ran my tongue up his neck, living for a moment in the heavenly scent of fresh rain, wet earth, felt in every sense at once. That beastly thing craved more, a cannibal fully prepared to eat her own kind. I couldn’t give her what she wanted—wouldn’t—but I’d take myself right to the edge of that feral madness. Stealing every blissful moment of him and that rainy bed he’d made for me.

  “Did it hurt? The ogham?” Puck asked, tracing over the black lines up my spine.

  I laid on my stomach, my head resting on my arms. “It did.” Sunrise teased, turning the sky white. Tired eyes blinked lazily at him. “Like a glowing hot branding iron. Are they like Percy’s?”

  A few quiet breaths. “And all those who came before. Gort, ciert, fearn, dair, ruis,” he recited the witches chant perfectly, tapping each group of black stripes from bottom to top.

  “Does that mean something?”

  “Tree magic. Older than me. Simple letters, swipes of paint, lines carved into wood and stone. The power of the universe lies in every stroke.” Puck drew the first in the curve of my back. “Gort,” he whispered, brushing two lines on my skin. “Ivy. Like it, a parasite, the Cu needs you to survive in this world, but even in your death it will live on.” Heat spread where he touched. “Ciert, the apple—her rebirth.” Three quick swipes. “The bridge that binds you to this world and the other. Alder, fearn, the symbol of Brân Fendigaidd.” I listened to every syllable, hearing in each the fantastical notion of what I was. “The mighty oak. Dair. Power. Strength. Enduring.” My girl waited, anticipating the last, knowing it’s weight. “Ruis.” Five steady stripes, sealed with a kiss. “Death.”

  A hot tear plopped on my arm. Lines of black on human skin, the rock around my neck, the blood spilt from my veins—the whole of the fucking universe and it was all on me. Lynnie Russell. “That’s all that’s holding me together?” And sheer will.

  He pressed his head against my lower back. “Isn’t it something? One minute you’re just an unassuming girl dying to get out of Havana, Arkansas, and the next you’re branded in ancient script smiting the wicked.”

  My heart skipped a beat before righting itself. What I’d lost with Rusty, what I knew in my heart Garret would’ve never truly understood, I had in Puck. He knew who and what I was. No lies, no secrets, no fear I’d hurt him or lose him. He’d be there, forever. Beyond forever. I’d be dead and gone and he’d be young and perfect for centuries. Him and my beast.

  Days gone by

  A perfect little redheaded girl squatted in the dirt in front of Garret’s doublewide. The butt of her jeans caked with mud, fiery red hair shimmered clean in the wind and sun. My new truck didn’t rattle and clank like the old one had, and at some point, Garret had pea-graveled the rundown dirt driveway. Only the little blond boy sitting on the stoop noticed. His clear blue eyes, almost see-through in the sunshine, just like his handsome daddy.

  I’d been gone a year when I sent Mama Lee the first postcard, Massachusetts scrawled across the front in blocked letters. I’d accepted my life, chosen to live it, but I couldn’t let my life go on not knowing. Maybe it was the natural protector in me. I got that from my granddaddy, didn’t have much to do with the beastly thing I’d become.

  Seven years it took before I was settled somewhere long enough to get a letter back. A few days later and she’d have missed me.

  I watched the two play in the yard for a minute. I hadn’t been there when they were born. Hadn’t smoked a cigar with my brother. Hadn’t held Hattie’s hand while she hollered and pushed those two angels into the world. I’d missed it all.

  Just when I was starting to feel sorry for myself, my daddy walked out the front door and stood on the porch, white mug of steaming coffee clutched in one hand. He stretched and scratched at his chin for a second before he saw me parked a few yards from the house.

  His eyes met mine and I realized it wasn’t Daddy. It was Garret. Aged, weathered from years of being a man and raising up a family. He didn’t do anything, just stared at me from the porch. I stared back.

  What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? The last time he laid eyes on me, we were pissing and fussing in Nana’s living room. A lifetime had passed since Havana. He’d changed, grown up and settled down. I was exactly the same. I’d always be exactly the same.

  I raised a hand from the steering wheel and waved. He sucked in a breath and took off running, coffee cup crashed against the wooden step on his way down. Barefoot and jean-clad, he ran through the dirt and pebble stone toward me.

  Before I could get the door open, he met me, ripping the handle from my hand. He had a habit of yanking me from my vehicle, but this time I didn’t fight him. I slid out and let my brother scoop me up in his arms, squeeze the breath from my lungs.

  The screen door slammed shut, and a breath later, I was tackled from behind. Hattie wrapped thick arms around the two of us. Garret’s back shook, sobs breathed hot air against my shoulder.

  “Where in the holy hell, Lynn?” he said, muffled against my shirt.

  Arms wrapped tight around his neck, I whispered, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Mommy?” asked the tiniest voice, melting my hardened heart.

  “Someone is calling you ‘mommy.’”

  Everything I’d hoped for Garret had come true. Hattie was happy. Our family had grown. With or without the likes of Lynnie Russell, it happened, life went on. It hurt that I’d missed it all, but I thanked the heavens they hadn’t waited around for me.

  “Poop, Daddy,” a rough, scratchy little man’s voice called from the porch.

  I laughed and Garret let me go. Sniffing back tears, he went to tend to his son. His son. My brother is a daddy. He scooped up the boy from the porch and took him inside. I smiled at Hattie so big, I thought my cheeks would explode. I didn’t have to ask. She knew what I was thinking.

  “We’re happy.” She smiled too and nodded. “He’s a good daddy.” She looked off at the house like she could see him through the walls.

  I’d lived a thousand lives in nearly a decade. Felt raw, untamed earth underfoot. Took from this earth the most vile, became a woman, a warrior, and hadn’t felt tears on my cheeks in years. “My heart is so full I think it’s gonna burst.”

  “Wouldn’t that kill you?” Olive eyes stared up at me from above freckled cheeks.

  I looked down at her. “Nothing can kill me.” Hattie stared at me as if she suddenly remembered why they hadn’t seen my face in seven years. I let out a breath and squatted down to meet the girl. My niece. “What’s your name? It must be something exceptional.” I lifted a thick lock of red hair. “With a head like that, you’ve gotta be special.”

  “Maureen Eleonore Russell.”

  I grinned. “Well, that’s quite a name.”

  She clapped muddy hands together, admiring the splash. “Daddy says it’s a strong name from strong women.” Her round cheeks squeezed green eyes half-closed with a wide grin.

  “I’d say so. You have my great granny’s name. She was a strong woman. With a head of red hair just like yours. Your daddy made a good choice. It suits you right fine.” I wanted to reach out and squeeze the life out of her. Scoop her into my arms and tell her I loved her, and I’d never, ever leave her, but I couldn’t. I’d love her to the ends of the earth, but I couldn’t say I’d never leave. Havana wasn’t my home anymore. It couldn’t hold the power I brought with me.

  A scratchy giggle came from behind me. Garret hauled his son out the door by his feet, the boy laughing the whole way.

  “That’s my brother.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the boy. “Rusty.”

  Air caught in my chest. A name I’d thought of eve
ry day for seven years but hadn’t heard spoken once. It made sense my brother would name his only son after his dead best friend.

  “Rusty… Russell…” I raised my eyebrows at Garret and he nodded. “Honor your friend, brother, don’t torture your kin.” I was proud of the name choice, but it did leave the poor child with a silly name.

  “He’ll be fine.” Garret patted his son on the butt and set him down. “Missed the service,” he said, choking back solace.

  I blinked at him. “Garret, that was seven years ago. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I just—”

  “Daddy died, Lynn.”

  Breath shuttered. “What?” I swallowed hard. Tears clung to my lashes. His blue eyes met mine, looking so much like the man in question. “When?”

  “Couple weeks now.”

  “I got a letter….” I let the rest go. Didn’t want Garret to know Mama Lee had known all along where I was. Didn’t need him over there badgering her for my whereabouts when I left again. He’d just come and find me. Leave his family behind to hunt a ghost long gone.

  “He’d been sick just a month before the cancer took him.”

  “How’s Mama?” I asked, voice hardly a whisper.

  “Don’t know. Ain’t seen her since the funeral.”

  “Oh, Mama. Damn it.” It was just like her to flit off, looking for a new man to keep her. “Garret, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” It was strange, daunting to feel so human. The beast turned and flopped in my soul, reminding me why it was necessary to shut that emotional, human place inside me off.

  “You got things to do. I get it.”

  I looked at Hattie, unsure what Garret knew and what he didn’t. She closed her eyes and nodded. He knew it all. Everything I was. Everything I’d done. “Garret, I’m so sorry for everything.” My girl roiled, feeling every ounce of my human pain. “I…” I’m sorry I killed Rusty.

  He looked away. “I know. I know.” He ran a hand over his hair. “You staying for dinner?” Garret asked, without looking at me.

  Head tilted at the morning spring sun, I pulled in the fresh spring scent I’d missed over the years, contemplating a full day in Havana. “The law still waiting around for the long-awaited return of Lynnie Russell?” I grinned, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

  Garret waved off the idea. “Been out here quite a few times asking for you. Some years now since anyone came looking. Wouldn’t want you bringing attention to yourself. That creature.” He flicked his hand angrily in my direction and I caught sight of four long scars across his forearm.

  I cringed at the damage I’d caused, gulping back guilty bile. “I have control now. I know what I am and how to be. There’s no choice in it, Garret. Like a heartbeat, I don’t have to think about it anymore. I just do what I do. What happened with you and… Rusty was an accident. I was young and didn’t know what I was. Puck helped me to come to terms with it, tame my beast.”

  “Puck?” Garret asked. Hattie smiled knowingly and looked at me from the corner of her eye while she watched the kids playing.

  I nodded. “He’s a good… man. Puck’s like me. I can’t hurt him.” The end of my nose tingled, threatening a new stream of tears.

  “What about Rusty?” Garret’s tone teetered on hostile. “I thought you loved him.”

  “Garret… Rusty’s gone.” He scoffed. “He’s been gone for a long time. Rusty Kemp will always have my heart, but I couldn’t live the rest of my already lonely existence truly alone. I have someone I don’t have to lie to. Someone I can’t kill.”

  Garret sniffed back tears. “Well, looks like you’ve got it all figured out then.” He looked back at the kids. “Looks like you’re just fine.”

  “Fine? Not really. But surviving, existing, yes. I worked hard to be where I am now. To live without you all. It takes work to pretend like I’m not dying inside every single day.” I turned away from him, swallowing the thick lump trapped in my throat. “I didn’t even know y’all had kids. I’d… I’d have come back for that. I wouldn’t have missed that,” I said around the stubborn bulge.

  I’d lie to myself, tell myself I’d have come running, but I knew better. Mama Lee’s letter, Come on home, one last time, had arrived when it needed to. When I was ready. “I didn’t have a choice, Garret. I was given this by birth and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it but try my damnedest to keep those I love safe.”

  His eyes sparkling with tears. “Maureen…?” He’d spent my time away pretending too, hoping with all his heart it wasn’t true.

  “Oh.” I looked at the little redhaired girl. “I don’t know, Garret. I really don’t. If I did, I’d make sure she was ready. I wouldn’t let her be like Mama let me. It’s just not safe.” I wrapped my hand around his; it trembled, slick with sweat. “Nana, Granny Gwen, me…. Don’t lie to her. To any of them.” Tension squeezed his jaw tight. “Brother, listen, if I even think for a second that baby is next in line, I’ll be back. I’ll be here for her.” I’d eventually die for her.

  Glistening, red-rimmed eyes met mine. “I trust you.”

  “Thank you.” Those three words were stronger than any others in history.

  “Come on now, you two.” Hattie hooked her arm with mine. “Let’s make a plan for supper.” I held Garret’s hand up the steps and into the last home I’d had.

  The three of us sat around their dinner table and visited until the night fell and darkness filled the sky. Maureen, a storybook held tight in her hands, asked if Auntie Lynn could read her to sleep.

  I tucked that perfect baby into bed and kissed her forehead. We snuggled together, in my old room, little Rusty softly snoring in the crib he’d nearly outgrown. I read, twirling her fiery hair around my finger, and she listened.

  At the end of the story, the knight had rescued the princess, riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

  “Auntie,” she yawned, “will you live here, happy forever after?”

  I breathed, forcing steadying breaths into unwilling lungs. “Sweet girl, I’m always with you, but I can’t stay.” She whimpered. “There’s a big, giant world out there to be seen and I’m not done seeing it. You’ll be big one day and you’ll leave this town in your dust.” I kissed her head. It smelled like sunshine, reminded me of Puck.

  She rolled, curled into my side. “Daddy says you have a very important job that needs to be done.”

  “That’s true.”

  “He says you’re something special,” she said, and stole my heart right out of my chest.

  A wide grin about knocked my ears off. “I guess that’s true too. In my story, I am the knight.” I took a breath “I’m a warrior.” Her dainty lips fell open. “And so are you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yup. And your daughter, and hers, and so on. My nana, and hers. It’s in our family.”

  “What about Daddy?” she asked.

  “He’s special in his own way. He keeps my heart planted on the earth when my head needs to be elsewhere. And he gave me, and the world, you. Someday, I’ll be back. You might be old and gray, but I’ll be there. I promise.” That promise I knew I’d keep. I’d be back eventually, if only to complete the cycle. Ciert.

  “I wish you could be here always.” My soul recognized hers. The same sizzling magic that vined deep in me, pumped through her veins. The Cu Sidhe would find her kin one day. Our fate would continue.

  “I do, too. But the world waits for me. And it waits for you. Be strong, little one. Grow big and smart. Learn everything you can. See the beauty and balance in the world. Deep down in that heart of yours there is nothing on this earth that can break you. Raise your babies to be the same. Promise me?”

  “Yup.” She nodded and yawned.

  “Good. Now, sleep, my angel. I’ll be gone in the morning, but I’ll love you always.” I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell her everything she’d ever need to know abo
ut the world and how to survive in it. Instead, I kissed her one last time and sang her Nanny’s favorite hymn until her breathing slowed and I knew she was asleep.

  I pushed through the screen door where Hattie sat in the dark on the top step, a half-empty beer in her hand. Garret snored in the recliner. I’d kissed his head on my way out the door, waking him up to say goodbye seemed cruel. So did walking out for a second time. Remember those shit options? Life handed them out in abundance.

  “Gonna just leave again?” she muttered, dragging a cigarette.

  I sat beside her, plucking the smoldering thing from her fingers. “Still lighting up when you drink? Or’d you start up full-time?” Smoke circled my hand.

  She scoffed, killing her beer in one swig. “He’s never stopped looking out the window for you.”

  I pulled a long drag on the cigarette. “I didn’t have a choice, Hattie. I could’ve killed him. You. Mama. Your babies,” I croaked.

  “What about now?” She took her smoke back, dragged until the end blazed bright. “You gotta choice?” Smoked billowed from her lips.

  Moon high in the sky, half-full, lighting only what wasn’t shadowed by trees. “Yeah.” I sniffed. “I do.”

  She laid her head on my shoulder, sitting in the comfortable silence of our chosen sisterhood. “You better say goodbye this time.”

  I nodded, kissing the top of her head. “I’m glad I chose you.”

  Garret snored—exhausted from a week of hard labor. His beat-up old lunch pail, the same he’d snuck beers home in, sat on top of the fridge. Ready for a new day.

  I knelt beside him, watching his eyes flutter under closed lids. A breath below a whisper, I cupped my hand around his ear, “I love you to the ends of the earth, brother. You are my heart. My tender soul. I am human because of you.” Magic crackled the tips of my fingers, tickling his ear.