Over the Falls

by Rebecca Hodge

  The river was slow here. If he were conscious, he should have been able to swim ashore. This sand spit reached toward the current in a long arc, and even a weak swimmer should have been able to detour to reach it.

  But he wasn’t here—wasn’t anywhere in sight. I looked back upriver. Could I have passed him somehow without noticing? I didn’t think so, but my doubts cascaded. After all that tequila. After battling the river. He could be in real trouble. He had said the river was impassable farther down.

  The irony struck me—worried about Sawyer after so many years of hate and anger. But regardless of all he’d done in the past, he’d just risked his life to save his son. He’d taken charge, and I’d fallen automatically into the habit of trusting his judgment. Part of me resented my obedience, but when it came to situations like this one, there was no one better. By myself, I could never have rescued Josh.

  I wanted to search for Sawyer, but I couldn’t leave Josh in the shape he was in. “How are you feeling?”

  “It hurts to breathe.” He licked his lips and reached toward the back of his head with a trembling hand. “My head hurts.”

  “You’ve got a nasty bump. Must have slammed into something along the way.”

  He looked around. “Where’s Dad? I was stuck … he swam up to me …” His voice was returning. Much closer to normal.

  “I don’t know where he is. He got swept downstream when the boat came free.”

  “Is he okay? He said …” Josh stopped. Looked away. “When he was hanging on to the boat, out there in the water. He said he was sorry. He told me he loved me.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. He closed his eyes.

  Sawyer had said he wanted to say a few things to Josh. Maybe he’d seized his final chance to say what mattered most.

  We sat for another minute, Josh’s color improving, and I heard a truck shifting gear, its engine straining uphill somewhere in the woods behind us. “Are you okay for a bit? It sounds like the road is close here. I need to find someone. Call for help. Get you dry and warmed up, and get people looking for your father.”

  He looked frightened at the idea of being left alone, and his fear confirmed my decision to focus on him and let others lead the hunt for Sawyer. I hated to leave him for even a few minutes, but I didn’t have much choice. “Rest. Don’t move. I’ll be back. I promise.”

  His slow nod of agreement held no enthusiasm.

  I took off my vest and slid it under his head as a pillow, and I started toward the trees to look for help. At the edge of the forest, I stopped one more time and looked along both riverbanks, hoping, but the river was the only thing alive. It roared its way downhill, relentlessly carving its path, confident that, in the end, it would always be victorious.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Josh

  They gave Bryn and me two of those orange blankets like you see on TV, the kind they give to people on the news who’ve survived burning houses or exploding bombs. I wrapped mine tight around me and tried to ignore its moldy smell. It was good to have something to hang on to. My head hurt. My wrist hurt. Pretty much everywhere hurt. No burning houses here and no exploding bombs, but now I knew how those people felt.

  We sat on a huge rock a little downstream from where Bryn had flagged down a FedEx driver who called 911. It was people who lived nearby who came, first volunteers bringing blankets and dry clothes, concerned voices and kind eyes. An ambulance with EMTs was on its way, but they said it would take a while for it to get here.

  Then more people kept arriving and getting organized. Volunteer firefighters. Wilderness searchers.

  They were going to search for Dad.

  The guy in charge came over to Bryn. “One of us can drive you toward town, meet the ambulance coming up.” He said it like maybe he’d be happier if we were somewhere else, not watching his every move.

  He wasn’t talking to me, but I jumped in fast. “No, we need to stay here.” I couldn’t leave without knowing about Dad. I looked at Bryn for her support, and even though she shook her head at first, she finally sighed.

  “Any harm in letting us wait here for the medics? His father’s the one who’s missing.”

  The guy frowned like he was going to push it, but he looked at me and relented. “Stay out from underfoot. The ambulance should be here soon.”

  So, we sat there, doing nothing, watching everyone else be super busy.

  A bunch of people arrived all at once with kayaks and canoes on the roofs of their cars. Bright colors, bandannas, handshakes, and quiet hellos. They looked serious. They loaded a lot of extra gear into the canoes. Radios and ropes. A big box with a red cross on it. A folded-up bundle that could be a stretcher. People kept glancing our way and whispering.

  “What do you think happened to him?” I didn’t want to hear what Bryn would say, but I had to ask anyway. That river was so cold. I’d never been that cold before, my skin numb but my bones freezing, so cold it was hard to think. I hated thinking about Dad freezing somewhere like that.

  Bryn reached over and squeezed my hand. A bad sign. “He’s probably just onshore somewhere. Pulled himself out of the river at a spot where he can’t hike out. He’s sensible. He’ll wait. Hell, he’ll probably just wave hello when the boats get there and then start bossing everyone around.”

  She said it like she meant it, but I didn’t believe her. She kept glancing downriver, twisting her blanket in her hands and looking worried.

  Another truck pulled in, parking behind the line of vehicles already there. Bryn’s truck. The next minute, Tellico raced up to us, pausing at Bryn to get a pat and a “good dog” but then coming to me. I gave him a hug. I rested my head against him for a minute, his fur warm and soft. He sat right next to my legs so I’d know he was there, and I moved the blanket so he was underneath with just his head sticking out, watching and waiting like I was.

  A woman in jeans and a Bronco T-shirt came down from the road. She carried a big thermos and handed Bryn her truck keys. “Found your truck with no trouble. And you were right—the dog was waiting right there.”

  “Thanks so much for bringing it over, Diane.” Bryn must have gotten introduced when she told about the truck.

  Diane handed Bryn the thermos and two plastic cups. “I stopped by my place on the way back. Fixed you some hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks. Sounds good.”

  Diane looked at all the people who had gathered. “They’ll find him.” She sounded certain. “They won’t stop searching until they do.” It was what I wanted to hear, but she looked worried too.

  “Thank you. Everyone has been great.”

  The rescuers finished getting ready, and the boats took off downstream in a long straggling line, leaving a half-dozen people clustered around a guy in a red cap who held a walkie-talkie.

  “This is all my fault.” The words had been there the whole time. Waiting. I hadn’t meant to say them out loud, but once those first words were out, I couldn’t stop. “If I hadn’t taken the kayak and Dad hadn’t followed me, he wouldn’t be out there now. He could be hurt. He could maybe be dead.”

  Bryn gave me a quick hug. “You were upset. I shouldn’t have let you walk out on your own after you’d heard bad news about your mom.” She looked just as miserable as I felt. “They’ll find him. It will all be okay.” But this time she didn’t sound convinced.

  I wiped my nose on my damp sleeve. For practically my whole life, I’d been used to the idea of my dad being dead. I missed him sometimes, and other times I was mad he was gone, but I didn’t get teary-eyed over him. So why was I crying now? I’d only learned he was alive the day before, but it felt like part of me had been ripped out and thrown away.

  I’d wanted to cry when I went over that waterfall. The drop. The icy water. Sliding out of the boat even though I was trying to hang on. Slamming into that rock, hitting so hard the world got fuzzy. The boat trapping me so I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.

  I was certain I was going to die. I was going to die and
I wasn’t going to see Mom again. I wasn’t going to go home again. And it was all my fault.

  But then Dad shot over the falls like it was easy, like he did it every day, and the next minute he was out of the water, yelling he was going to come get me. Telling me he was sorry. That he loved me. Even though the water was freezing, his words made me feel warm, like when Mom gave me a hug or Tellico snuggled up close.

  They had to find Dad. He had to be safe. He just had to.

  Bryn and I waited another half hour or so. Drank the hot chocolate, which warmed up my insides but coated my mouth in sugar and made me more thirsty, not less. Then Red Cap held his walkie-talkie to his mouth and talked back and forth a few times. The crackling sound of voices came through from the other end, but not the words.

  The people who’d waited on shore got tight around him to listen. Several of them glanced at us but then turned away fast, like they were embarrassed to see I’d noticed. No smiles. No high fives. My stomach dropped like I was in a too-fast elevator.

  Red Cap finished talking, looked at Bryn, and came slowly our way.

  Bryn tossed her blanket off and stood up. My legs were stone, locked tight to the ground, and I hung on to Tellico with both hands.

  “The search team has covered the next stretch of river with no luck. They can’t go any farther. Once you get past the final take-out point, the river’s a nasty mess of rocks. Impassable.” He was using his hands, pointing downriver, shaking his head. “They found the kayak you described—the one with the safety line attached. Or rather, they found what’s left of it. But they haven’t found anything else.”

  They hadn’t found Dad.

  Bryn listened, and her whole body shrank up small. “What next?”

  “We’ll send people in on foot. Call in a helicopter. But it doesn’t look good. If he were conscious, there are a handful of spots where he could have pulled himself to shore, but there’s no sign he did so. If not …” His voice trailed away. He gave her an awkward pat and turned away.

  Bryn was crying big silent tears like they’d never stop, but she didn’t even try to wipe them off. “They …” She stopped, her voice not working right. “They’ll keep looking.”

  I nodded, freezing cold all at once despite the blanket. They would keep looking, but now they were looking for a body.

  My dad was dead. He’d always been dead, but this time it felt harsh and real, not a story from long ago. I wiped my face on my sleeve again. My stomach and throat were twisted up so tight, words couldn’t work their way out.

  A bright shiny ambulance rumbled in to join the cluster of trucks and SUVs, its lights flashing but no sirens, no fuss. Two medics climbed out, looking my way. I wanted to stay where I was, but I couldn’t think why.

  “Let’s get you to the hospital. They need to check you out.” Bryn put a shaking arm around my shoulders and helped me to my feet. We headed away from the river toward where the truck was parked. Tellico walked beside me. The people by the river were busy putting equipment back in boxes, getting ready to leave. That whole long walk, they all stopped what they were doing and stared after us. They acted like they’d never seen people cry before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Bryn

  The hospital admitted Josh, taking chest X-rays, checking for concussion, splinting his wrist. They declared him extremely lucky, but his body was a multihued patchwork of bruises, and he looked tired and drawn. He said little, snuggling under a deep pile of too-thin hospital blankets, raising and lowering the head of his electric hospital bed, watching cartoons designed for a five-year-old. He didn’t talk about his father. He didn’t ask about his mom.

  I called Landon that first night. I was exhausted from the episode on the river, worried about Josh, and confused by my flip-flopping feelings about Sawyer. His death had torn something loose inside, and the least little thing had me tearing up. As soon as I heard Landon’s calm voice on the phone, I fell apart, and the whole story of the past twenty-four hours tumbled out. Spotting Sawyer at the Games. Carl’s latest set of threats. Tracking Sawyer down. The news that Del might be in horrific shape. Josh taking the kayak. Sawyer’s death.

  Hearing myself say it all out loud made it feel a little less overwhelming, and it felt good to spill the whole thing to a sympathetic listener. “Seeing Sawyer alive at the Games—alive and running away again—all I could feel was anger. Listening to his self-justifying bullshit about taking all that money didn’t help. But then he risked his life for Josh on the river. He saved his son. I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

  Landon stopped me right there. “Sounds like he stepped up, and that’s great, but you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You faced that river. You never thought you’d be able to do that again. Josh wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t been there.”

  Maybe. He wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t quite embrace it. There were plenty of things I was going to have to sort out.

  “I still need to find Del and decide what to do about Carl.” Had it only been that morning when he and his men swooped in on us at the campsite? Grabbing Josh and choking Tellico? It felt like a lifetime ago. “At least now we know Del is here. Assuming Sawyer was telling the truth. I guess that’s tomorrow’s project. At the moment, I’m too exhausted to move.”

  There was silence on the phone for a moment, and I pictured Landon looking out his window into the quiet darkness of the Blue Ridge. I, on the other hand, was huddled in the windowless corridor outside Josh’s hospital room, squinting against the glare of the overhead fluorescents.

  “I’m homesick. I miss the mountains and the animals and the garden. I miss the quiet mornings, watching the sunrise, walking down to check for the night’s tracks at the creek. I miss you.” I stumbled to a halt. That last sentence was totally true, but I was surprised I’d said it out loud.

  “I miss you too.” Landon said it so quietly, I thought I might not have heard it right. Then, in a normal voice, he said, “What can I do to help?”

  I wanted his help. I wanted it badly. The temptation to share some of my worries and fears about Josh, about Del, about Carl was a physical craving. But if I let Landon in, I was risking more hurt. How could I do that when I already felt so battered?

  Then again, Landon was right. I’d faced the river, survived Silver Run. If I could do that, maybe I could risk a little more. I wasn’t looking to be rescued, but I sure as hell could use a friend.

  How could he help? What I wanted most of all was to ask him to come out and join us, but that felt like too much. Our relationship had been so uncertain lately. Asking him to drop everything for days was a big request. I didn’t answer him right away, debating with myself.

  Landon spoke into the silence. “Do you want me to come to Colorado?”

  I was both startled and touched. It felt like he’d read my thoughts, but I bit off the temptation of an instant yes. “I can’t ask you to do that. I know how you hate to travel.” Even thinking about leaving home must fill him with trepidation. He was the sort who liked to have his coffee in the exact same mug every day, and he wanted to sit in the exact same chair at the exact same table to drink it.

  “Travel isn’t my favorite pastime, I admit, but if it will help, I’ll come. I can get one of Jim Stephenson’s sons to stay at the farm.”

  Landon, someone I could count on, here in Colorado to help. A surge of relief at the prospect left me leaning on the hallway wall. To hell with worrying about what it all meant. I wanted him here. “Yes, that would be amazing. Yes. Please.”

  “Good.” His voice was emphatic. “Give me a day to get things settled here, and I’ll fly out. How long will Josh need to stay in the hospital?”

  “They say at least tonight and tomorrow night so they can repeat chest X-rays and watch for infection. He inhaled a good bit of river water. I should know more tomorrow. Send me your flight information once you have it, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.” My relief at having some backup left me buoyant. Well, not just
any backup. It was Landon I wanted in my corner. “Thanks. Thanks so much for coming.”

  He gave a deep chuckle. “No problem. It was the ‘I miss you’ line that did it. See you soon.”

  * * *

  That second day in the hospital was long and tedious and boring. Josh, withdrawn. Carl, snarling in his daily text. Me, restless, confused and feeling useless. I called the half-dozen rehab centers I could find listings for, but got nowhere. Well-trained voices informed me it would be impossible to acknowledge the presence of a specific patient. There were rules. Policies. Procedures. I learned exactly nothing. I needed to find something that narrowed down the location so I could go argue in person, but that would have to wait until I could return to Sawyer’s house and search.

  I also bowed to the inevitable and called Mom. She’d left multiple messages since we’d left Memphis—realizing belatedly that if Josh and I were searching for Del, it might mean Del was in trouble. I’d avoided answering since I had no real news, but I could no longer make that claim.

  She answered on the first ring and jumped right in. “What’s going on, Bryn? I know you’re not telling me everything. I keep calling Del, and she doesn’t pick up. I can’t even leave her a message.”

  She hadn’t started off with a detour into neighborhood gossip, and she sounded on the edge of panic. What I had to tell her wasn’t going to help.

  I walked slowly through the full saga, leaving out anything related to Carl and pausing every few sentences to let Mom vent. Colorado. Sawyer alive. Josh trapped in the river. Sawyer presumed dead. “Mom, Sawyer knew where Del is, and it doesn’t sound good.” I passed on what he had told me. “I’m not sure how much to believe, but Del has some issues. I’ll learn more once Josh is out of the hospital.”

  Dead silence. I don’t think I’d ever heard such silence from my mother. Even the television noise in the background was missing.

  I waited. “Mom, are you still there?”

  She blew her nose. “Find her. You can find her, can’t you? And call me as soon as you know more.” Her voice sounded like it belonged to a different person—uncertain, pleading, and intensely sad.