by PJ Sharon
Before I knew it, we were past the city and on Route 2, cruising for the Rhode Island Beaches. We would set up our three man dome tent at a nearby campground that had a lake with trails and clean bathrooms from what I remembered. Mom and I talked intermittently on the two hour drive. She asked me mundane questions about my friends, what classes I would take this year, and which college I preferred, Columbia or Harvard. She picked the two closest schools to home—shocker. I answered with what I knew she wanted to hear and wished I could have gotten out of this torture before it even started. It would be a long four days, but it was worth it to know she had forgiven Alex and moved from hating him to speaking of him with sympathy.
“I know you miss him, Jordan, but try not to sulk. There’s nothing you can do except be patient and let him work this all out on his own. He has a lot of healing to do. We all do,” she added as if I didn’t know already. “He’ll come around. Maybe by the time you’re through with college, he’ll be in a better place and you two can reconnect.”
Did she seriously think she was helping me? “I don’t want to talk about Alex.” I stuffed my ear buds in and disappeared into my music, Katie Perry’s latest tunes bumping in my head until we pulled into the campsite an hour later.
Setting up was a disaster. Neither of us had put up the tent in three years. It smelled musty and we fought over which poles went where. We argued over where to put the tent, whether to put the tarp under it or string it up over the picnic table in case of rain (my idea), tying it into the trees, or staking it to the ground (her idea). What should have taken an hour ended up taking three, and by the time all was said and done, I was sweaty, tired and starving and the mosquitoes were eating me alive. What had I gotten myself into? I smacked another bug and scratched my shoulder blade.
“I think we should go out to dinner. It’s too hot out to start a fire and I can’t find the propane tank for the gas grill.” Mom picked through the kitchen box, pulling out matches, candles, and bug spray and then putting them back in. She released a frustrated sigh.
“We came a hundred and thirty miles to go out to dinner?” I said. I grabbed the bug spray and applied it generously to my legs and arms, giving one last blast to my head and holding my breath. So much for enjoying the fresh air. I clenched my teeth and wiped the sweat from my brow with my tee shirt. I was clearly in no shape to be seen in public. “I’ll stay here and make a peanut butter sandwich. I need to eat before I pass out.” I dug through the bags and slapped a sandwich together while Mom stared at me, her eyes showing the strain of trying to keep it together and sound positive.
“I guess I’ll be back in a while then,” she said. “Do you want me to pick you up anything?”
She grabbed the keys and I grumbled a “Not unless you can fit a five star hotel into the CR-V,” as she climbed into the truck. She glared at me, backing out of our site and onto the dirt road leading out of the campground. I watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief. Four days, only ninety-six hours, right?
I sat at the picnic table, flicked off an ant that was headed for my crumbs, and wolfed down the rest of my sandwich. I inhaled a carton of chocolate milk and changed into my bathing suit. Cooling off seemed like a good idea and it was still light enough that a swim in the lake made more sense than fighting the returning beach crowd for the showers. The campground appeared to be sparsely inhabited at the moment, but I expected campers to be pulling in next to us any time now. Then I’d have to put up with noisy little kids or middle-aged honeymooners grunting and groaning all night long. The thought made me irritable on several levels.
I took in the empty sites all around me. It was only Thursday. Maybe people wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow. Good. I didn’t want to see anyone anyway.
Then I noticed the quiet. Nothing but birds tweeting—first one—then another far off, replying in the same sing-song tone. Then only one bird called. No reply. She sounded so singular and sad and lonely. I brushed off the thought of Alex and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, tightening it against my head hard enough to give myself a little snap of pain—smarten up idiot. It’s over with Alex. Get on with it already!
The lake was a fifteen minute walk down the main road, but I checked the camp map and saw a shortcut through the woods to a smaller pond. Maybe if I played my cards right, I could avoid talking to anyone at all for the rest of the week. I wasn’t afraid to be alone, and I was in no mood to be polite. I slipped shorts up over my bottoms, tied my hiking boots on, and wrapped a towel around my neck.
I consulted the map one more time and made my way through the woods toward the pond. The path was well worn but growing steeper by the minute and I had a moment of doubt as to the wisdom of my choice. Forging on, thinking it couldn’t be much farther, the woods closed in around me, an eerie silence sending a chill across my skin. My boots slipped on the small stones. I sat on my butt to negotiate the next sharp drop. The trail narrowed and I caught my breath as I nearly slid off a sheer edge and tumbled down the hill. I clung to a tree branch and eased myself down a rocky precipice, wondering what lengths I would go to, to be alone.
Twenty minutes later, I came to a crystal clear glacier pond, a few scrapes on my hands but no worse for wear. In spite of the rough hike, I decided it was worth it. The place had a magical feel to it like I’d stepped into a fairy tale. I half expected a wood sprite to greet me or a water nymph to break the reflective surface of the peaceful water. The pond looked more like a lake, much bigger than it appeared on the map. There wasn’t a soul around. I tried to push away the dark shadow that hung over my soul. I wanted to enjoy this moment of connecting with nature, but self-reflection was a dangerous luxury I couldn’t afford. Thinking too much would inevitably lead to more tears and frankly, I was tired of crying and feeling sorry for myself.
The sun sat low in the sky, an orange ball that promised another hot, steamy day ahead. I threw my towel onto a rock and kicked off my boots, the warm sand inviting under my toes. I shimmied out of my shorts and waded into the pond up to my thighs. A cold chill trickled up my spine. I thought of Alex for the millionth time in the last week, my heart taking another plunge into the depths of despair. I let out a frustrated groan. I hated being this out of control of my emotions. Maybe he had found closure in telling me to take a hike, but I didn’t get to say what I wanted to say…should have said…needed to say. Instead I had pleaded like a pathetic, lovesick little girl.
Angry with myself as much as I was Alex, I gave voice to my rage. “You stubborn, pig-headed, pain-in-the-ass…jerk!” I yelled to the leaves on the maple tree nearby. I felt stupid, but it was good to vent. A smidgeon of tension dropped from my shoulders. I did it again. “How could you be so selfish?” I shouted. “How could you walk away from the one person who knows you best…and still LOVES you…even though you are maddeningly stubborn and…and emotionally…immature!” I screamed. A flock of geese took flight off the surface of the still water.
I had to laugh at myself. Not because I was wrong, really, but because it was a terribly one-sided argument and I was acting a bit like an irrational shrew. It felt good not to have to hold back—constantly trying to be what Mom and Brig and…Alex…needed me to be.
I sank under the water up to my chin and felt the chill all the way to my bones, all of the heat I’d built up cooling instantly. I couldn’t be mad at him. He was an honorable guy who thought he was doing the right thing by taking responsibility for a mistake. A part of me still couldn’t believe it was Alex’s fault. Where Levi was concerned, anything could have happened.
But the other part of me—the part that had worried about my brother and lied to protect him—knew that if Levi walked willingly to his death, my silence was the lie that made it possible. Maybe that was the truth I was trying to get to. I dunked under and came up slowly, dipping my head back and letting the water pour over me as if seeking some kind of baptism or forgiveness.
I still wondered if things would have been different if I’d said something abou
t his cutting, but I had the feeling it was one more thing my mother couldn’t have handled. On some level, I knew she had always known and that it had been her job, not mine, to do something about it. Maybe someday, we would be able to talk about it, but not now. My own grief was too raw to face my part in protecting the lies. Another sharp pang of anger and regret twisted inside me. We had all failed him miserably and I couldn’t lay all the blame on her.
At least now we had the knowledge that he died with honor, a fact that would no doubt give my mother a sense of peace. She couldn’t have lived with it if he had killed himself. She would say it meant he couldn’t go to heaven. But I didn’t believe her. God always seemed bigger than that to me. I didn’t think God would hold it against a kid who had been so hurt in life he couldn’t bear to live with the pain. My heart ached for my brother. I wish he had told me. Tears ran down my cheeks again. Frustration with my grief, my weakness, the unrelenting sadness that filled me to overflowing, sent me into a rage. My hands balled into fists. “WHY?” I screamed to the heavens, knowing not even God himself would be able to make me understand.
I splashed the cold water on my face and dove under, coming up only when my lungs were close to bursting. I swam hard for the center of the large pond, the water growing icy cold around me. The bottom, which a minute before had appeared as a soft sandy beach six feet below me, disappeared into darkness. I swam in long strokes, each one taking me further from shore until my arms got tired and I rolled onto my back to float. I peered up at the dimming sky, its afternoon blue turning to an evening violet and crimson. The sun still shone through the trees, but it wouldn’t be light much longer. I should probably start back in. I righted myself and began to tread water, realizing that I’d swum out farther than I thought.
The pond was silent and growing dark with shadows. A looking glass reflection of trees and the splash of the sun’s last rays glittered across the surface. An owl hooted in the distance and frogs croaked out a symphony along the edges of the ancient glacier pond. It dawned on me that I was in water that could be a hundred feet deep, and my heart beat quickened.
I took a stroke and then two more before I felt the first cramp—a small stitch in my side. I tried to keep swimming, but the cramp shot to my calf and then lower. Crap! I grabbed for my toes which followed the spasm in the arch of my right foot. My mother’s voice came to my head—something about not swimming until at least an hour after eating—a lesson I thought stupid at the time. A peanut butter sandwich and chocolate milk? Really? My toe cramp started to dissipate and then my calf tightened painfully again as soon as I kicked towards shore—too far away. I’d never make it like this. The pulse in my throat pounded. I struggled to relax, float, and breathe. I was quickly tiring and the edge of panic rose within me. No one knows I’m here. Crap! Crap!!
Water splashed into my mouth. I spit it out, choking. I clutched my side. Another cramp—harder—took my breath away. I went under…kicked my way up. My leg seized. I went down again. I pulled my way to the surface and gulped for air. My body felt like a cinder block, heavy, solid, and sinking fast. I went under a third time. Fear gripped my mind. I couldn’t think. I clawed my way up, my legs numb and useless. I gulped for air again, but hadn’t quite hit the surface. My lungs filled with water—panic—choking—
I heard my mother, crying, “Don’t leave me.” Then I saw Levi reaching out to me beneath the murky water and felt myself drifting towards him, the panic fading with the light. This must be how it was for him. Dying wasn’t so bad after you got past the fear.
I reached out and brushed his fingertips. He smiled, his image disappearing into the darkness.
So dark—so quiet—I slipped away.
Chapter 20
I felt myself drifting—up or down—I couldn’t tell. Floating—being pulled—carried. I blinked and saw the sky above, stars twinkling against a deep purple canvas. I saw Alex’s face silhouetted against the night shadows. He hovered above me, his face close, calling my name but distant. Was this what it felt like to die and go to heaven?
“Jordie, can you hear me?” His voice was muffled. He sounded panicked, desperate, gasping for breath.
I choked up pond water, coughed, gagged. He helped me turn on my side, and held my hair back, the elastic long gone. I gasped for breath as he laid me back down. “What…happened?” I sputtered. My ears seemed full of cotton and my head pounded like a beating drum.
Alex grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap, holding me tight and rocking back and forth. “Oh, God. I thought I lost you!” His warm lips felt nice on my forehead, the heat of his body bringing me closer to life. I began to shake and my limbs trembled painfully as the numbness wore off.
“How did you f-f-f-find me?” I asked, the fog clearing slightly as he sat me up. My throat burned. I struggled to swallow past the painful rawness.
“I saw you head down the trail alone and I…followed you.”
I held my head in both hands trying to make sense of everything. “Why are you here?”
“Brig asked me to go on a camping trip with him. I had no idea you were going to be here.” Seeing me shiver uncontrollably, he wrapped a towel around my shoulders and pulled me close beside him. The sand felt warm, but the sun had all but disappeared and a chill closed in around us. “I’m just glad I made it to you in time,” he said, releasing a shaky breath. He crushed me against his chest and I let myself snuggle into his neck. Oh, yes. Heat infused me. I snuggled deeper, wrapping my arms around his warm, hard torso. If this was what heaven was like, I had surely died. “Can you stand up?” he asked. The gentleness in his voice started a warm fire in my chest.
“Not yet,” I whispered, my teeth chattering violently. He settled his arm tighter around me. I lifted my eyes to look up at him, catching a glimpse of the vulnerable, insecure guy I’d known and fallen in love with when I was in the ninth grade. It all came back in a flash. I remembered the day he went from being Levi’s friend to possibly the love of my life.
I was fast becoming a tall, gangly, jock, and he was…Alex…soft spoken, cute, in a Great Dane sort of way. Not quite sure of his own size and strength, awkward but graceful at the same time, and hiding behind glasses and a computer screen. Then one day we were joking around. While showing him a leg sweep I’d learned in martial arts class, I knocked him onto the ground and landed on top of him. His glasses flew off and we were nose to nose, seeing each other as if for the first time, those beautiful eyes penetrating straight through to my soul. I know he felt it too. A moment of recognition so true and pure, you know you will never be the same again.
He was so sweet, his crooked smile hurt and vulnerable. I knew his parents’ divorce had taken its toll on him, and I felt bad that Levi kept getting him into trouble. He was a nice guy who had hooked up with the wrong friend. From that day forward, I never saw him or us the same way. I became secretly fascinated with Alex Cooper.
My shivers brought me back to the moment. His chin rested on my head and his arms seemed to be everywhere. He rubbed my back and my shoulders, and stroked my hair. Blood rushed into my extremities, making my fingers and toes tingle.
Once my mind cleared, I remembered the last time we saw each other and how he’d walked away from me. All the hurt I’d been steeped in for the past two weeks rose to the surface, giving me a mental slap back to reality. I sat up, immediately regretting the loss of his warmth and the increased pounding in my head. “I have some questions for you,” I said sternly.
“Look, you’re freezing, and we have a long hike back in the dark. We should get going.” He pulled away and slowly climbed to his feet. It was then I noticed his leg.
“You got another new leg.” This one strapped on the same suction cup kind of way, but the titanium rod was replaced by a flat curved lower leg and foot which looked a bit like a ski.
He looked down. “It’s my running leg. I just got it this week. I guess it works pretty well for swimming too.” He flashed me a grin in the darkening light that fell arou
nd us. A half-moon rose up over the pond and the sky was dotted with winking stars. He extended a hand out to me.
I let him lift me to my feet. I wobbled, my legs still not quite ready for land. His hands came around my waist to steady me. I held onto his arms and looked him in the eye, one side of his face in shadow. “I don’t think I can make it back up the hill in the dark,” I said. “It’s a long hike and it gets pretty steep in spots. Can’t we just make camp here?”
He tensed and hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” he said.
We stood toe to toe, bodies touching in so many places, my nerves felt instantly hotwired. I placed my hands on his bare chest and he shivered. “I think you should start a fire,” I said. I bit my lower lip, feeling heat rise in my cheeks, my breath shallow. “Let’s just stay here.” In response, he went to that still place inside himself, fighting some internal demon that had him paralyzed in the moment. I pushed away and punched him in the arm, hard. “Are you afraid you can’t control yourself around me?”
“Ouch.” He mock flinched and rubbed his arm. “I nearly drowned saving you and now you’re punching me? Maybe it’s your self-control we should worry about.” He waggled his brows at me.
“Don’t worry. Your virtue is safe with me.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Look, I don’t have my cell phone and I can’t see you and me stumbling through the dark and falling off a cliff or something just because you don’t trust yourself to be alone with me. We are definitely safer here.” Challenging his resolve seemed like a good way to force his hand. Besides, I was going to get answers to my questions—one way or another.