The Sisters of Blue Mountain

by Karen Katchur

  “I’m sitting with him right now on the bench,” she said. Ian would know the exact spot she was talking about. He’d proposed to her on this bench. How many nights had they sat here together, how many years? It had to be at least fifteen or more. She couldn’t remember and not because she forgot important dates like their anniversary, but more because she couldn’t stop staring at the water, at the birds, their wings spread wide, their heads submerged with no chance of coming up for air. She couldn’t process anymore than what she was seeing in front of her, the horror of it.

  “Well, what does he think happened?” Ian asked.

  “I don’t know.” She looked at Pop. He didn’t seem capable of processing the scene either.

  “Let me dry him off and get him warm. I’ll call you back when I find something out.”

  “What do you mean dry him off? What’s going on?”

  “I found him in the dam picking up one of the birds,” she said. Although by definition it wasn’t a dam at all, but a lake created by several unnamed tributaries. The name “the dam” was just one of the peculiarities of the town of Mountain Springs. “But he’s okay. He’ll be okay.” She patted Pop’s leg to reassure him, to reassure her.

  Ian didn’t say anything right away. “Let me know when you find out what happened.” He was being careful with her, knowing she wouldn’t want to push her father into answering the questions they both had about what might’ve caused this phenomenon.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” She hung up the phone and turned toward Pop. “Why don’t we go back to the house? I’ll fix you a cup of coffee and get you some dry clothes.”

  “Am I having another nightmare?” he asked. He looked so frightened all of a sudden, like a scared child, and not a grown man with a Ph.D.

  “No,” she said, and wiped her eye. “I’m afraid this one is real.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Myna stretched out on the bed, her naked body slick with sweat. Her dark curly hair stuck to the sides of her face and neck. A warm breeze blew the curtains into the room, another sunny day in Florida. She smiled, her body relaxed. Content. Her life couldn’t get any better than it was right now, this minute.

  She stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the waves, smelling the salty sea air, thinking how much she loved living near the coast. It was so different from anywhere she’d ever lived before, different from the mountains and the long cold winters of home, different from the congested cities where she’d run off to after she’d graduated from college almost fifteen years ago.

  She even loved her job in the small beach town, teaching at the community college. There was something special about being in front of a classroom, seeing the eager faces of the young men and women staring back at her, sharing her knowledge and experience. She finally understood why her father had spent so much time at the university. When you loved what you did, well, you wanted to spend all of your time doing it. You didn’t want to stop.

  Of course, she loved Ben, too. After all, she’d rushed home on her lunch break to join him in their condo on the bay. If she could, she would stay in bed all day, like this, by his side. And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder why, moments ago when she’d thought of her life here, she hadn’t thought of him first. Why was he the one thing she thought of after everything else?

  But she reminded herself that wasn’t always true. Five minutes ago she’d had her hands on his back, his buttocks, pressing him to her with an urgency she’d only ever experienced with him. If ever there was a man for her, he was it. Surely, she knew that by now.

  She turned to look at him. His arm was slung over his face, covering his eyes. His breathing had slowed, returning to normal after the physical exertion.

  He must have felt her watching him. He reached for her hand and held it, squeezing lightly. “So that was fun.”

  She slipped her hand away and rolled to her side, placing her palm on his chest, running her fingers through the soft patch of hair she could never seem to stop touching. “Yes, it was.” She smiled. “But we should get up, or we’re both going to be late.”

  He gazed at her. The tips of his brown hair were bleached blond from the sun. “What’s the rest of your day like?” he asked.

  “I’ve got two more classes this afternoon,” she said. “And then I’m officially on spring break.” She taught computer classes at the college, the job that had brought her to Florida over three years ago. She’d met Ben on her second day in the computer lab. He’d walked in looking for help designing a Web site for his charter fishing boat business. He was tan and fit, and when he smiled, his whole face lit up. There was something relaxed about him, a kind of self-assuredness that came off as confident and, at the same time, sincere. But it was his utter willingness to put himself in her hands, to admit he hadn’t a clue about the first steps in creating an online presence for his business—he’d seemed so vulnerable, trusting, and yet she’d sensed an underlying strength that had made her skin tingle and her pulse race.

  Who would have thought the feeling would’ve lasted this long?

  Three years in one state was a record for Myna if she didn’t count Pennsylvania, where she’d grown up. Before landing the job at the college, she’d hopped from one IT position to the next, leaving whenever another relationship with whatever guy she’d been dating at the office had failed. It was just too awkward to keep showing up for a job and bumping into an ex-boyfriend day after day. She could still feel her sister Linnet’s disapproving stare through the phone line. She could still hear the judgmental tone of her sister’s voice whenever Myna had called to say she was moving on. Eventually, she’d stopped calling Linnet altogether, avoiding her sister’s criticisms, resorting to e-mails and text messages during the last five years. It was an impersonal way to stay connected to someone you loved, someone who’d meant more to you at one time in your life than anyone else ever had.

  But Ben was different from the other guys Myna had dated. She’d understood that straightaway. She could never seem to get enough of him. She was always left with a feeling of wanting more. And it was this very idea, her desire to be with him always, that she found so frightening.

  To her, Ben was like chocolate. She’d eat piece after piece, not wanting to stop because it tasted so good. And because it tasted so good, she became unable to stop even though it had the potential to hurt her or make her sick. It was like an addiction—not the bad kind, but rather it was too much of a good thing.

  Ben rolled to his side, holding her gaze, his expression dreamy. He moved her hair away from her brow. “We should get married,” he said.

  She blinked, stunned. He must’ve seen the shock in her eyes, the confusion, because he immediately said, “What? You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said, wondering where the heck this was coming from all of a sudden.

  “You’ve never thought about marrying me. Not even once?”

  “No,” she said with certainty.

  He sat up, his posture no longer languid, but now stiff and rigid. She sat up, too, pulling the sheets and covering her bare chest.

  “Well, why not?” he asked, clearly hurt.

  “I don’t know. It’s just not something I think about.”

  “But why?”

  “Because. I don’t know,” she stammered. “I just thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That I don’t believe in marriage.”

  “What? Who doesn’t believe in marriage?”

  “I don’t.”

  “What does that even mean? You don’t believe in marriage?”

  “I just don’t think people should get married. I don’t think it works.” She paused. “It ruins things.”

  “You think marrying me would ruin things?”

  “Yes.”

  He swung his legs to the floor, putting his back to her. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

  She reached out and touche
d his arm and then rubbed his strong shoulder, trying not to make too much of this if she could. “I love our life the way it is. Why mess with perfection?”

  “You should’ve told me.” He jerked his shoulder away. Her hand dropped to the bed.

  “I’m telling you now,” she said.

  “You should’ve told me sooner.”

  “Why? What does it matter?” Why was he turning this into a fight?

  “It matters to me.” He stood.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” she said, hugging the sheets to her cooling skin, knowing she didn’t sound sorry. “I just figured you knew.”

  “How could I have known?” He yanked on his boxers and shorts. “What kind of person doesn’t believe in marriage?” He pulled on his polo shirt, the one with Captain stitched on the left side over his chest, his biceps bulging underneath the short sleeves.

  “My kind of person,” she snapped, thinking, Fine, let’s fight then.

  He stared at her, his eyes wounded.

  She glared back, but it was hard to stay mad at him, not when he looked at her that way. She held out her hand, urging him to take it. “Come here,” she said. Maybe it didn’t have to turn into something ugly and mean. Maybe she could smooth things over before they both said something they’d regret. “Let’s not make this into a big deal.”

  “But it is a big deal.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” He still didn’t take her hand, so she patted the mattress by her side. “Sit.”

  “I’m going to be late.” He plucked his sneakers from the floor. “It is a big deal. It’s a very big deal,” he said before storming from the room.

  “Ben, wait!” she called after him. “We’re fighting over a piece of paper.”

  “It’s not just a piece of paper!” he shouted, and the next thing she heard was the front door slamming shut. She leaned back against the pillow. What the hell just happened? He’d never talked about marriage before. She’d just assumed he’d felt about it the same way she had. Why couldn’t they continue as they were, happy, easy, rolling with the tides? She folded her arms. Their life was perfect the way it was. Why was he trying to ruin it? She wanted to holler after him, “Take it back! Take that stupid word, marriage, back!”

  She checked her phone for the time. Shit.

  She scrambled from the sheets and hurried into her skirt. She didn’t have time for even a quick shower. She rolled deodorant under her arms. It would have to do, and she slipped into her blouse. It was only two classes, she consoled herself. She could get through two classes smelling of sex. Her students wouldn’t know if she didn’t let them get too close.

  She rushed out the door. It wasn’t until she was behind the wheel and speeding down the road that some of the anger peeled away and what was left was the first stab of fear. Was it possible she could lose him over this?

  If ever there was a time she wished she could talk with Linnet, the one person who knew everything about her, the one person who might’ve at least understood this, the time was now. But somewhere along the way she’d forgotten how to talk with her sister. They’d forgotten how to talk with each other. It wasn’t always that way. They were close once, as close as two sisters could be.

  She eased off the gas and pressed the brake, stopping at a traffic light. Two boys carrying a bucket and fishing poles caught her attention. They bumped arms as they walked, smiling, talking as they headed in the direction of the bay and pier. She imagined them as brothers, swapping tall fish tales. Something about the way they moved, the lightness to their steps, reminded her of when she’d been young and carefree, when the days with her sister had been as simple as fishing, catching bullfrogs, playing games to fill up the hours.

  One game in particular crossed her mind: Spynow. She and Linnet had invented it when they’d been bored on the weekends when their mother had been preoccupied with guests and their father had been locked away in his study.

  * * *

  “S.P.Y.N.O.W.,” Myna had called to Linnet, stating each letter clearly. She’d thought by spelling out the word she was being clever.

  Their mother had been standing in front of the kitchen sink with a knife and cutting board, fruits and vegetables spread on the counter around her. The morning sunlight was shining brightly through the garden window. It was late spring, and three of the guest rooms in the B&B were occupied with couples who came for the tranquility of the mountains, the trails, the snow geese on the dam. Although most of the birds had gone, leaving their small-town rest stop on their way north to Canada where they’d nest to breed in the colder climate.

  The sisters had a lot of free time on their hands outside of school, more than their peers who were busy with activities—soccer, dance, girl scouts, softball. They could’ve joined the same teams and participated in the same activities if they’d wanted, but they’d always preferred to spend their time together with only each other for company.

  Myna motioned to Linnet to start the game. Linnet pushed past her to take the lead as big sister. Myna tried to hide her giggles behind her sister’s shoulder.

  “Shh,” Linnet said, putting her finger to her lips.

  If their mother had heard them at this point, she pretended she hadn’t. Linnet got down on her hands and knees and crawled toward the kitchen table. Myna got down and crawled after her. She was careful not to put a hand or knee on the creakier wooden boards.

  They made it to the table safely without being noticed. Linnet slipped between two of the chairs. Myna did the same. They huddled together on the floor, trying to stifle the giggles that always erupted whenever they played the spying game. Their mother continued to ignore them, because of course she had to have heard them. Linnet started tickling Myna, and she lost it, laughing uncontrollably, pushing her sister’s wriggling fingers away.

  “That’s enough,” their mother said.

  Myna jumped and banged her head on the bottom of the table, which only made them laugh harder.

  Their mother pulled one of the chairs out. “Both of you,” she said. “Outside. I’ve had enough of your silliness for one day.”

  Linnet and Myna crawled out from underneath the table, Myna still holding the top of her head, Linnet still giggling.

  “Get going.” Their mother shooed them toward the door. “It’s a nice day. Out you go. Leave me be.”

  They ran across the yard. Linnet called, “Last one there is a rotten egg.”

  Linnet made it to the dock first. Myna caught up to her a second later. They lay down on the wooden planks so their shoulders and hips touched, their bodies fitting perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle. They were the same size, the same lanky build. Their dark curly hair cascaded down their backs. They were often mistaken for twins, but they were born fifteen months apart.

  The warm sun heated their faces. Their feet dangled over the side, and their toes touched the water.

  “Was Mom crying?” Myna asked, noticing their mother’s watery eyes before she’d chased them out the door.

  “No,” Linnet said. “I think she was cutting onions.”

  Myna had believed her then. There wasn’t anyone in the world Myna had believed more than her sister.

  * * *

  Myna pulled into the parking lot of the square brick building that housed the computer lab and her classroom, her thoughts lingering on Linnet, their mother and, ultimately, Ben. She parked in the first space she could find, flipped the visor down, and looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. She reached into her oversize purse and pulled out lip gloss and mascara. When she finished with her face, she searched for a hair tie and quickly fixed her tangles into a messy bun.

  She got out of the car and smoothed her skirt. She stared at the ground as she walked, not making eye contact with anyone as she made her way into the building, feeling self-conscious about the dried layer of sweat on her skin. When she entered her classroom, most of her students were already seated, tapping away on their keyboards.

  “Sorry I’m late.”
She glanced at the clock over the door and put her bag and case with her laptop on the desk. The boy in the back, Dylan, raised his hand. He’d started asking more and more questions lately, ever since she’d given him a ride home one night when she’d found him walking alongside the road, hunched from the weight of his backpack. There had been something about the way he’d looked under the glow of the streetlamps on the deserted street that had made her think he’d needed help. She’d ended up driving him to a party. It hadn’t been what she had in mind when she’d asked if he’d needed a lift, and then later, she’d had to refuse his repeated offers that she join him for a drink.

  “Always picking up strays,” Ben had said when she’d arrived home later that night. She hadn’t responded because what he’d said had been true. She couldn’t pass by someone, anyone, in need of help. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Her cell phone started ringing. Ben.

  “Give me a second, Dylan,” she said, and snatched her phone from her purse. Linnet’s name appeared on the screen.

  Myna stared at her sister’s name for a long second. “So,” she said to Dylan, turning her phone off and tossing it on the desk. “What can I do for you?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Linnet shoved her cell phone in her pocket. She hung up before leaving Myna a message. What would she have said anyway? Hundreds of Pop’s beloved birds are dead, and you need to come home. But what exactly was the emergency? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted her sister here.

  She was standing next to Pop by their private dock. They were joined by a couple dozen people who had gathered along the shoreline, forming a ring around the dam, staring at the water. To an outsider the scene might’ve looked like some kind of cult, some kind of ceremony amid a bizarre sacrifice. But of course, it was the farthest thing from the truth. The townspeople cherished the snow geese, relied on the birds to bring the tourists and money into town.

  Linnet recognized some of the spectators who had congregated along the bank—Susan from Jesse’s Market, Brenda, their mail carrier, Terry, the husband of one of the teachers who worked with Ian, parents from Hank’s school. The others she didn’t recognize at all, possibly vacationers staying at the Mountain Springs Inn in the center of town. It wasn’t long before Hugh Huntley, the reporter from the local news station, appeared. He was followed by his cameraman. She wondered how long it would take before Hugh knocked on her father’s door.