by Ann M. Noser
because he sure made a lot of them.”
―Anonymous
“Real classy, Steve,” I mutter. “Good night, everyone.”
Bernard clears his throat. “I say, Emma, do you think I could borrow your car tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I reply. “What did you have in mind?”
“I need to do a drive-by.”
“A drive-by?” Oh no! It’s like high school all over again.
“I just want to check out my old neighborhood and try to form a plan of action.”
“Of course, Bernard. You can borrow the car.” I pick up one last box to carry into my bedroom. “Just don’t get a ticket.”
he boys cruise Bernard’s neighborhood the next morning while I hike to the campus bookstore to pick up the required textbooks for spring semester. When I stop home for lunch, I find Bernard slumped on the couch.
I fling my heavy backpack on the floor and hurry to his side. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He wrings his hands. “Claire’s not home. The driveway’s not plowed, and the shades are all drawn. I’m worried.”
“Maybe she’s gone for the holidays. You’ll have to be patient―give it time.”
“I’ve been dead six months―I don’t want to give it time.” He runs his fingers through his white hair, making it stand on end. “I need a plan now. There’s gotta be someone I can talk to about her while I’m in this stupid bodysuit, but the neighbors are protective. If some kid shows up asking questions about an empty house, they’re going to call the cops.”
“Don’t do that! We don’t want Officer Walker to find out about you, that’s for sure.” I walk over to the kitchen. “I’m starved! Are you guys hungry?”
“Yes, but the refrigerator’s empty,” Steve calls from across the room. “How about we go grocery shopping?”
“You’re right. I should, but I have a meeting with my tutoring boss. It’s mandatory. There are these new rules he has to go over or something.”
“We could go for you,” Mike offers.
“Here.” I dig out my wallet. “Take my debit card.”
“Thanks, Emma.” Mike pops up off the couch and takes it.
“Beer and chip run!” Steve announces.
“Don’t you dare! I want real food. You live with a girl now, remember?”
Steve shrugs. “Dang! That means light beer.”
That night, when I get home, Abby’s laughter floats out my apartment door. I step inside to find her and Mike hanging out in the kitchen.
“Hey, you!” She smiles wider than she has in months. “I hope you don’t mind… Jake asked me over for supper.”
“I don’t mind.” The heavenly smell of lasagna hits me, and my mouth waters. “Man, that smells awesome! When can we eat?”
“Five more minutes.” Mike eyeballs the dish through the stove door.
Abby giggles. “He’s said that at least a dozen times already, so I finally just stopped asking.” She groans and massages her lower back. “Hope you don’t mind if I sit down. My back’s been killing me today.”
Mike drags over a chair. “Want me to rub your back?”
“No!” Abby shakes her head. “Sorry―it’s just somebody tried that at work today, and it just about made me puke. Oh, and, Emma, I hope you like chicken lasagna.”
“I’ve never had it, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, the smell of beef really bothers me now, too. But I can handle chicken, for some reason.”
“What else bothers you?” I ask.
“Just meat. It makes me gag. Let’s just say they don’t have me working at the deli counter at the grocery store anymore.”
I grab a glass of milk. “I thought you were only supposed to get sick during the first trimester.”
“Yeah, well everything you heard about pregnancy is B. S., in my opinion. Morning sickness doesn’t just happen in the morning―it lasts all day long. And I feel more nauseated now than I did during the first three months.”
I cringe. “Being pregnant doesn’t sound like much fun.”
Abby laughs. “It’s not too bad if I keep something in my stomach. I carry saltines everywhere I go now. My doctor, who’s a man I might add, told me to eat the no salt version, but have you tried them? They’re nasty! They’re enough to make you sick all on their own.”
I gaze at the pan of bubbling lasagna. “Well, don’t worry. Supper tonight should taste a million times better than boring saltines. I have to say I’m impressed, Mi―Jake. How’d you know how to make this?”
Mike smiles. “Let’s just say it’s an old recipe from a friend of a friend.”
As second semester begins, the boys fall into a routine of cruising Bernard’s neighborhood during the day, cooking Abby supper, then haunting the river’s edge at night. Steve always makes them search along the Chippewa River, even when it’s bitterly cold outside.
“There’s something out there,” he murmurs. “I just know it.”
One night after their return, Mike stamps his feet and slaps his hands together by the front door, shivering. “You’re lucky you didn’t come with us tonight, Emma. It’s freezing out!”
“Oh, quit your whining!” Steve scowls as he shimmers forward.
I close my Biochem textbook. “You didn’t find anything, then?”
Steve shakes his head. “Nope.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry.” Steve slips off his coat and hangs it in the closet. “I’ll find it, whatever it is, one of these days.”
Mike glimmers forth. “I’m chilled to the bone. I want hot chocolate or something. Emma, are you thirsty?”
“Sure―”
Steve takes over. “When are you going to tell her you talked to your brother?”
“What?” I stand up, knocking my book to the floor. “You did? When?”
Mike and Steve fight for control, flashing back and forth until finally Steve speaks. “We ran into Kevin today.”
Mike comes forth to argue. “We did not ‘run into’ him. You did it on purpose!”
Steve narrows his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby about this. Anyway, I tried to talk to Kevin, in the shared body, of course, and he went crazy on me, screaming ‘how could I be friends with that Emma Roberts’ and so on and so forth.”
“Sorry, Emma.” Bernard glimmers forth, evidently noticing my discomfort. “He shouldn’t have told you that part.”
They all stare at me, their faces flickering from one to the other as the air shimmers around them.
“So it didn’t go well, then?” I ask.
“No, it didn’t.” Mike turns away. “And don’t do that to me again, Steve. You’re not in charge of everyone’s life. Just your own.”
One Thursday night after Biochem class, I hurry home in the dark, trying not to slip on the ice as I cross the bridge. My breath hangs crisp and white in the air as I gaze at the full moon hanging in the sky. Here we go again.
When I reach my apartment door, I hear too many voices talking inside. I pause, key in hand, and scan up and down the hallway. I don’t want Abby to jump out and surprise me as soon as I open my door.
I enter my apartment, carefully stepping over the discarded bodysuit slumped in a heap by the door.
“Well, hello, Emma.” Bernard smiles. “We’re going for another walk tonight. Would you like to join us?”
“Sure, just give me a minute.” I set the limp skin in the closet and slide the door shut to hide its icky, pale tan color―the shade of death.
We sneak out of the apartment building one by one. Mike and Steve pull hats low on their heads. We gather near the river and hike along a wooded trail on its edge.
“Where’s Abby?” I ask. “How did you get rid of her?”
Steve turns to me. “What do you mean ‘get rid of her’?”
I sigh. “I just meant she’s been eating supper with us every night now for a while, and there’s a full moon tonight…”
“Oh yeah…” Steve nods.
“She can’t see us like this.”
“It was easy,” Mike says. “I just told her I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to give anything to the baby.”
“Makes sense,” I say.
Bernard stops to gaze across the frozen river. “I can’t get over how beautiful everything is tonight. It looks like an Ansel Adams photograph.”
I glare at the river. “I don’t trust it. Just don’t get too close.”
Steve turns to Mike. “You know, you don’t have to come with us tonight. You could go talk to your brother. It might work better this way―”
Mike shakes his head. “I’m not bothering him again.”
Steve grabs Mike’s shoulder. “But I was thinking that if you tried to talk to him tonight, when you look like yourself, then maybe―”
Mike shrugs Steve’s hand away. “No way. I’m not doing that again. You saw him, and that’s not Kevin. That’s not my brother. I can’t stand what I’ve done to him, and I’m not going to make it even worse by scaring him to death, so to speak.”
“Why would it make things worse?” I ask. “Maybe you could explain?”
“No. I can’t.” Mike chokes on his words.
Steve starts to protest, and Bernard holds up a hand. “It’s his decision. Leave him be.”
“I can’t understand either of you,” Steve says. “Mike won’t even try, and Bernard, you act like a twelve-year-old with all your phone call hang-ups and your drive-bys.”
“Don’t worry,” Bernard assures me. “She can’t see your number. It’s blocked. I checked already.”
I sigh. Good grief. I really am in high school again.
“I’m getting concerned,” Bernard frets. “Every time we’ve driven by, the house still looks vacant, the driveway still hasn’t been plowed, and there’s no Christmas decorations up anywhere. Where is she?”
“We’ll find her, Bernard. Don’t worry.” Mike slows his pace to meet mine as we trail along the edge of the river.
I shiver as Mike’s foot touches the ice. “Why do you guys want to hang out here? Isn’t it dangerous? I mean, the water could grab you back at any time―at least that’s what happened to Jake and Sam.”
“I have to do this.” Steve scans the area. “There’s something here I need to find.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
“I can feel it. And I don’t care if none of you believe me.” Steve hurries off ahead of us, continuing his search.
“Do you have any idea what he’s looking for?” I ask.
“No,” Mike replies. “I just hope he finds it.”
We walk in silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts, until Mike speaks again. “It feels so good to finally be able to stretch out my legs.”
“What does it feel like with all three of you together inside the body?” I ask.
“Just tight,” Mike replies. “Like last year’s pants when you’re in grade school.”
I nod, my eyes catching on Steve in the distance, standing in a big clearing next to the river. To his right, a snow-covered road stretches off into the distance. As my eyes follow that road, a set of car headlights grows larger and brighter as they approach.
Everything moves slowly from that second on.
A shriek like a million nails scraping across a chalkboard cuts through the night. The ice cracks lengthwise, and the river rises in a tower to consume Steve as he examines its frosty edges.
“Steve!” I scream as the sounds of crushing ice and rushing water fill my ears.
But he has already disappeared, with the river closing up behind him. Mike and Bernard race after him and jump into a jagged sliver of water left open in the middle of the ice.
They vanish from sight. A second later, the entire river refreezes into a solid sheet. A series of hard snapping pops echo in the air, like a million deadbolts locking one after the other.
My heart races, and I find it hard to catch my breath. Then everything goes silent, except for the soft crunch of tires behind me. The approaching headlights throw dazzling, long rays upon the trees along the river’s edge.
A flash of red among the trees catches my eyes.
Then I hear the unwelcome voice of Officer Walker. “Emma, what are you doing out here alone this time of night?”
“Just taking a walk, officer.” I move closer to the red-marked tree, hoping to hide the river from his inspection. “What are you doing here?”
Where are they? I wonder, trying to hide my panic. Walker is suspicious enough of me already.
“I’m drawn to the river, just like you.” The policeman moves away from his car, leaving his lights and radio on. “What are you looking at?”
“That smiley face painted on this tree. It seems like such an odd place for graffiti. And it’s sort of creepy. I didn’t think a smiley face could ever look so scary.”
I stare at the lopsided red image, hiding my shaking hands behind me. The grimacing leer gives me the heebies. Or else it’s the fact that my friends have just been swallowed whole by the river.
“It probably seems creepy because you’re out here alone when you shouldn’t be,” he lectures. “Are you alone? I thought I heard you talking to someone when I first opened my door.”
“I was on the phone.” I yank it out of my pocket and hold it up as proof.
“I see.” He circles me. “As I’ve told you before, I worry about you, Emma. I know you’re hiding something. I can tell, partly just because I’m so darn clever, and partly because you’re not a very good liar.”
“Don’t worry. I’m getting better at it.” You better get out of here, buddy, before I put a spell on you!
He chuckles. “I really think you should go home now. It’s late, and it’s cold. In fact, I’ll give you a ride if you want.”
“No, thanks,” I reply, itching to get back down to the ice.
The policeman examines the smiley face. “Did you find anything else here besides this?”
“Just a few beer cans sprinkled here and there.” I hate litter. “Do people come out here to party?”
“Yes, they do, in fact. That’s why I drive out here from time to time.”
“Well, I’m not drinking.”
“I know.” Officer Walker raises his eyebrows as if to say I-know-all-about-you-Miss-Emma-Roberts. “You don’t appear to be much of a drinker.”
I think of my parents’ Christmas party, and of Jake. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.
“Well then, I’ll continue my route, unless you’ve changed your mind about getting a ride home.”
“No, thanks.”
“You could at least make an effort to be careful. Your parents might appreciate that.” Charlie finally returns to his car.
I shudder. It is so freaky how he knows so much about me sometimes.
After he drives off, I scramble back toward the ice. I trip over a long metal bar, grab it, and run down to the river carrying it in my gloved hands.
My friends are nowhere in sight. I falter at the river’s edge. I can’t believe I’ve lost them already! In angry desperation, I swing the metal bar down hard on the ice.
CRAAACKKK!
The ice splits open all the way up and down the river as far as I can see. The fissure widens, and I fall back onto the snow, sobs catching in my throat.
What just happened? I am not that strong!
A single human hand claws up over the edge of the ice.
second hand bursts through the moving ice as the frozen river rolls and sputters back to life. Like a horror movie, more and more hands reach toward me.
My breath comes out in ragged spurts. Screams tear through the night air.
Is that awful noise coming from me?
The ice cracks and bends as another hand comes up directly underneath me. I scoot back and watch as Mike’s head rises up out of the river. Chucks of ice fall from his hair. He spins around, eyes wide with fear. He reaches down for the others and pulls Bernard and Steve out of the water. They s
tumble over the crumbling ice, lunging for the shore.
All three of them collapse at the edge of the raging river.
“What happened?” I demand to know.
“The river wants me back,” Steve says. “But I’m not ready. Not yet.”
“How did you escape it then?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It must have been you.” Steve eyes me with a smidgen of respect. “You saved us. With that rod. Now let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”
I stare at the pole in my hand. Steve and Mike pull Bernard onto his feet and stagger through the snow.
I follow them home, dragging the metal bar behind me.
“Bernard, you get in the shower first,” Steve directs. The three of them stand dripping and shivering in my kitchen.
Mike nods, peeling off his sodden coat.
Bernard’s teeth chatter. “We could draw straws so it’s fair.”
“Don’t argue with me, old man,” Steve barks. “Just hurry up.”
While Bernard showers, Steve sits at the circular dining room table, drawing out some sort of graph. Mike and I watch him work in silence. I don’t take off my coat or mittens. I shudder uncontrollably, but I don’t think it’s only due to the wet cold.
Did I really do that? Why didn’t I know this before? Maybe I could’ve saved Jake.
Bernard comes out of the bathroom, smiling. “I’ve never enjoyed a shower more.”
“Mike or Emma, one of you go next.” Steve barely takes his eyes off his paperwork.
“Mike, you should go first,” I say, teeth chattering.
“No,” he argues. “You go. Ladies first. I insist.”
Steve looks up. His gaze catches on the bent metal rod I still clench in my hands. Then he glances at the floor. “Is that blood?”
I stare down at the sludge on the kitchen floor from the snow-encrusted rod. A streak of red runs through the middle of the slush.
I turn the pole in the light. “I’m not sure. I think it’s just dirt… Unless I hit one of you by accident. Are any of you bleeding?”
Mike and Bernard shake their heads.
“Did you find anything else?” Steve views the bar as if it was something holy.