Spring Rain

by Gayle Roper

  “I’m coming, Terror. I’m coming!”

  He looked at the part of the jetty still stretched before him, waves creaming against its sides. It had never looked so long. Water swirled in and around the rocks, and each wave brought the water level a bit higher.

  Each wave put Terror in greater danger.

  Bill went around the cleft by climbing over the rocks beside it and made it over the next several rocks with no difficulties, but he came to an abrupt halt when he saw the chasm that lay ahead of him. The Grand Canyon.

  At least it looked like the Grand Canyon right now. He and Mike always thought that the army guys who had built the jetty had forgotten to add one giant rock, and it made for a deep ditch between the rock where Bill stood and the rock on the far side. Water, a dark gleam in the heavy night, fell and rose as the waves ebbed and advanced. A piece of driftwood floated on the surface. He had to cross this chasm because the rocks beside it were too jagged to climb on in the daytime, let alone at night.

  Bill knew he’d jumped this chasm many times when he and Mike played here, but it looked so wide in the dark. What if he misjudged? He could break a leg or something, and then both he and Terror would be the victims of high tide.

  He looked down into the canyon and saw the black water heaving and the foam swirling. It scared him just looking down, but he knew the water wasn’t really deep. It just looked that way. There were rocks under there, like the second layer. If he fell in, he wouldn’t go under. He’d just go to his waist or something. And he’d break a leg or an arm. Or his neck.

  You can do it. You can do it.

  Terror’s howl pierced the night, and Bill looked out to the end of the jetty. He could just make out a large wave rolling over the top of Terror’s rock. The dog was a shadow, jerking and pulling, trying to get away from the water. Soon a wave would come and cover him. It would pull him right off the rock, sucking him back into the water. He’d be dashed against the rocks and killed if he wasn’t drowned first.

  “I’m coming, Terror! I’m coming!”

  Swallowing his fear, Bill sat on his rock and lowered his feet into the hole. His feet disappeared into the swirling water.

  You’re taller than the hole is deep. You’ll be okay. You’re taller than the hole is deep. You’ll be okay.

  He took a deep breath and pushed off. For a minute he felt suspended in space. Then cold water grabbed at him. His sneakers hit the algae slick rock at the bottom of the ditch. He felt his feet slip.

  “No!”

  He flailed about, trying to save himself, but couldn’t on the slippery, uneven surface. He knew a moment of pure panic as he fell.

  His head didn’t quite go under, at least not all the way, but the rest of him did as his fall and a wave surge coincided. The piece of driftwood bumped gently against his cheek. The frigid temperature of the sea took his breath, and he was panting as he stood. He climbed onto the far rock. The chill air whipped about him, making him shiver.

  But he was almost there. He could hear Terror’s constant whine now, and he could see patches of white fur.

  “Hang on, buddy! I’m almost there.”

  He took a step and froze as he realized his feet were under water and what little visibility he had was gone. He slid one foot forward, searching for the edge of the rock. The water ebbed, and the rock showed again. He breathed a sigh of relief but knew that any minute the water wouldn’t pull back so far.

  The noise of the waves amazed him. They crashed so much more loudly at night than in the day. He hadn’t realized that before. It was scary, spooky. Even so, he kept moving, stepping in and out of rising and falling water as he climbed up and down and over the great rocks.

  “It’s okay, Terror,” he called again and again. “It’s okay. I’m coming.”

  He glanced up and saw a huge wave, crest white with spume, about to break over Terror’s rock. It would definitely wash him out to sea. Bill jumped the last crevice and grabbed just as the wave broke.

  The wave caught him full in the face as he bent over the pup. He coughed and sputtered and tried to lift the very wet and frantic Terror, but he couldn’t. The wave receded, pulling him down on his knees beside the terrified dog. His toes hooked over the edge of the rock toward land and held on. Water now covered the rock with no relief, lapping partway up his thighs as he knelt.

  He felt rather than saw the rope about the animal’s neck. At first he didn’t realize what it was. He squinted at it through water-spotted glasses, puzzled. Then it hit him with all the force of the line drive that had clipped him in the nose last year. Someone had tied Terror to the rock!

  Anger burned in Bill, hotter than he’d ever known in his life. Who would have done such a terrible, terrible thing? He grabbed the rope and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. He pulled again harder. Nothing. It was wedged firmly in a crevice, and with all the water, he couldn’t see where and how.

  Moving quickly he put himself, still on his knees with his back to the sea, behind Terror. When the next wave broke, it struck him in the middle of the back, but his body protected the dog, at least a little bit. He began working his hands around the rope at Terror’s neck. He found the knot quickly, and his cold fingers began to pick at it.

  Come on, come on!

  Whoever the guy was who had tied Terror up had used the slipknot that boaters use to tie up to a dock, loop inside loop inside loop. He’d tied it himself lots of times when he’d gone out on Uncle Ted’s boat with him and Matt. He stood, gave a brisk tug, and the loops fell apart. The rope dropped away just as a wave struck him in the back of the knees. He felt himself stumble and grabbed Terror.

  As the wave receded and pulled at him, he braced himself. When the sickening sensation was gone, he picked up the dog and held Terror against him like a mom did a burping baby. He was relieved and surprised that they were both still solidly on the rock.

  Thanks, God. Just a little bit longer, okay?

  He cradled Terror, cooing to him as the dog lay shivering against his chest, his wet little head pressed against Bill’s neck.

  “Just stay still, okay? We’ll be back on land real soon.”

  He looked back the way he had come, and in that moment Bill knew fear like he’d never experienced before. The houses were so distant, their lights little pin pricks, like stars. The night was so dark, and the water swirled wildly over the rocks in front of him. He couldn’t see where to step. He just couldn’t see.

  “The dog and the kid are together.”

  Clay pulled the phone from his ear and squinted at it. “What?”

  “The dog and the kid are together. And they’re okay, at least for the moment. Just a bit wet.” An evil laugh floated down the line.

  “Who is this?” Clay demanded, but there was now only a dial tone. It had to be the same man who called Leigh last night. How many crank callers could there be in one neighborhood? And he had threatened Bill.

  “The dog and the kid are together.”

  “Hey, Mom.” He leaned into the hallway and called up to Ted’s room. “Is Terror up there with you guys?”

  “No.” Her voice floated down the stairwell. “Isn’t he with you?”

  Obviously not, Clay thought as he pondered the call. “Just a bit wet.” His mouth drew together in a hard line as he understood that there was only one place they could be getting wet.

  Clay grabbed the big flashlight his mother kept on the kitchen shelf. He threw open the back door and almost knocked Leigh to the ground. He grabbed for her, but she saved herself by jumping backward down the steps.

  “Are you okay?” He was afraid she might have twisted an ankle or something.

  She brushed his question aside with a wave of her hand. “Is Billy here?” Her voice was full of tension, and he could see her chin quiver.

  Clay shook his head.

  Leigh ran her hand through her hair. “He’s gone. The phone was off the hook, making that bleating noise. I told him not to answer!”

  Clay hated to speak
, knowing he was going to upset her more. “I just got a strange phone call telling me he and Terror were together.”

  Leigh went still. “Was it the same man who called me last night?” She spoke in a whisper, like it was all she could manage.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t hear his voice then. But this guy had a nasty laugh.”

  She shivered in spite of the heavy jacket she wore, wrapping her arms about herself. “Yeah. He did. What else did he say?”

  Wishing he didn’t have to tell her the rest of the message, but knowing he did, Clay said, “He said they were getting wet.”

  “Wet? Wet!” She turned toward the beach and started to run. “I’m going to kill him.” She didn’t clarify whether she meant Bill or the caller.

  Without speaking they ran through the dunes, Clay shining the flashlight ahead of them. When they gained the beach, Clay fanned the light along the tide line. Nothing.

  “Where is he?” Leigh asked, panic edging her voice. She stared out over the ocean. Clay could see her nightmare thoughts flash across her face.

  “He’s not floating off to China, Leigh.”

  “A lot you know,” she spit at him. “A lot you care!”

  Clay blinked. Where had that venom come from? To set her mind at ease, he fanned the flashlight beam across the water. Nothing but undulating waves. Then, to his great disbelief, he caught quick sight of movement as the band of light glided over the closest jetty. He threw the beam back across the rocks.

  The light reflected off the spume of the incoming waves, making the foam almost iridescent against the black of the water. The beam also revealed a small form far out at the end of the jetty, water churning at its feet.

  Leigh moaned and swayed, her hand at her throat. As he automatically put out a hand to calm her, Clay’s own heart felt squeezed of life as fear unfurled in his chest. But he never touched her. She moved too quickly.

  “Billy! Billy!” Leigh ran onto the jetty.

  “Leigh! Wait!” Clay raced after her and grabbed her arm. “You’re going to trip and fall.”

  “Let go of me!” She turned on him, slapping at his arm. “I’ve got to get Billy!”

  He tightened his grip. “We’ve got to get Bill,” he corrected. “Now wait for me and the light, or I’ll have to drag you back too.”

  She made a hissing noise and pulled free.

  Clay shone the light in front of them, but even so it was tough going. The shadows dipped and swelled, making the terrain shift and twist. He grabbed for her hand to help her, though she was nimble in her walking shoes.

  She shook her head. “I can keep my balance better if both hands are free.”

  He jumped across the cleft a third of the way out and turned to shine the light for her. He reached across, and this time she took his hand. She jumped lightly over, and they climbed on.

  Water hissed and coiled all around them, washing into all the crevices, rising ever higher. In the gleam of the flashlight beam algae expanded and contracted with the swells like green hair. Fat strips of seaweed rose and receded, floating on the surface on their air bladders.

  Clay turned the light to the end of the jetty. “We’re coming, Bill!” he called as loudly as he could, hoping the boy could hear him over the clap and drum of the water.

  “Careful, Clay,” Leigh yelled all of a sudden, pulling on his hand. “There’s a drop about here.”

  Clay pitched the light down to his feet, away from Bill and a soggy Terror. The drop was just in front of them, and water swayed and bucked through it like a fast moving stream through a narrow culvert.

  He eyed the distance and judged he could jump it without much trouble. He thrust the flashlight into Leigh’s hand. “Shine it for me so I can see where I’m jumping.”

  “Take it with you. I’ll be okay without it.” Somehow they both knew she wasn’t going across this chasm.

  He shook his head. “I think I’m going to need both hands.”

  Nodding, she trained the light onto the far rock just as the waves spilled up out of the ditch and over the surface of the rock where they stood and the rock where he was to jump. They were wet to their ankles.

  “Hurry, Clay!” she pleaded, her eyes on the shadowy silhouette of her son.

  As if he needed to be told! He stepped back two steps, ran, and leaped. He landed with a splash. He spared a moment to glance back at Leigh and saw her nod. He turned back to Bill and cautiously slid his feet as he moved, feeling for bumps, edges, any danger hidden by the black wash of waves.

  “Come toward me, Bill,” he called. “Can you do that?”

  The water around Bill was now consistently knee-deep, and the swell of the waves reached above his thighs. Soon a big surge would lift him off his feet. The only good thing about the deeper water was that the waves weren’t breaking against the boy anymore. They were breaking against Clay himself. They slapped against his legs, but they didn’t worry him. He’d grown up around the sea, and though he had a great respect for it, especially when it was angry, he wasn’t afraid of it.

  “Reach, Bill. Come on! Reach toward me!” The boy seemed frozen to his spot, unable to move.

  “I can’t!” Bill’s voice was full of tears, but he yelled loudly. Still full of spunk in spite of his precarious position. “If I let go of Terror, he’ll jump. I need two hands to hold him.”

  Just a few more feet, a few more feet. If only he could see where he was stepping! Leigh’s aim with the flashlight wasn’t the greatest, which was probably good since all he’d get if she shined it downward was a shiny reflection off the water. Understandably she had it fastened on Bill. In its gleam where it streamed behind the boy, Clay could see the rumbling lather of a large wave bearing down on the jetty, breaking early and coming fast.

  “Drop Terror and run!” Clay ordered, expecting instant obedience.

  Bill, unlike the men under Clay’s command in the navy, balked. “No way!”

  Clay knew there had to be a break in the rocks between his position and Bill’s. He just didn’t know where it was.

  Help me, God! No broken bones or sprained ankles, please!

  He leaped, coming down on Bill’s rock beside him and Terror an instant before the wave rolled through. He spun around, braced his feet, and held tight to the boy and the dog, making sure their faces were turned toward shore.

  The wave slapped him in the back, causing him to sway, but not really endangering him. It passed over Bill at shoulder height, and it would have certainly lifted him off his perch. Clay felt weak with relief as he lifted the boy and dog into his arms.

  “I knew you’d make it,” Bill mumbled as he burrowed close. He shivered convulsively, and Clay thought of hypothermia and hurried.

  Slip. Slide. Pray. Slip. Slide. Pray.

  After forever they reached the chasm where Leigh waited, water foaming about her shins.

  “Can you stand, Bill?” Clay asked.

  Bill stopped shivering and said, “Of course I can stand.”

  “What are you going to do?” Leigh asked as Bill took his place beside Clay, Terror still clutched tightly to his chest.

  In answer, Clay slid into the water-filled ditch, yelling as the frigid water hit his stomach and chest.

  “Here, Bill.” He held out his arms. Bill stooped and fell into them. Clay twisted and held him out to Leigh. She stuffed the flashlight into a pocket so that the beam shone wildly up into the air. She held out both hands, grabbed her son under the arms, and pulled. Between Clay’s push and her pull, Bill, still clutching Terror, was soon standing beside his mother. They moved cautiously back to make room for Clay as he put his hands on the rock and lifted himself out of the water.

  “The Grand Canyon,” Bill said, teeth chattering.

  “What?” Both Clay and Leigh looked at the boy.

  He pointed at the chasm. “That’s what Mike and I call it.” Clay nodded, and doing his best to ignore how miserable he felt with the wind slapping him, he put one hand on Bill’s shoulder and grabb
ed Leigh’s free hand. Leigh shone the light ahead of them, and with care they picked their way until they were beyond the water’s reach.

  “Put Terror down now, Bill,” Clay said as the dry rocks lay before them.

  “I think I’m frozen in position,” Bill said as he slowly opened his arms. “I’ve been holding him so hard, I can hardly move.”

  Terror gave a yip, hopped down, and made a straight run for the beach, the dunes, and home.

  “The least he could do is say thank you,” Bill muttered as a great shiver shook him.

  “Come on, guy.” Clay reached for the boy and picked him up. “Let’s get you home and warm.”

  Weary and cold, Bill didn’t even protest being carried. He wrapped his legs around Clay’s waist and his arms about Clay’s neck, resting his head on Clay’s shoulder.

  Leigh walked slightly ahead of them, the light shining on the ground, as the three of them went home.

  Eighteen

  HE SHRANK BACK into the shadows as they walked past. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in their flashlight beam. Not when everything was going so good. And it was going good. It was. It was. It was.

  After they passed, he walked onto the beach and down to the water’s edge. He stared at the waves curling almost at his feet, but he was careful to keep out of their reach. No wave was eating him, no siree.

  He sighed and tried to figure out how he felt. Emotions raged inside him, but they were so confusing! It bothered him that he got so mixed up, but it was nothing new. He often thought two different things about someone or something, and it was hard on a man. At least it was hard on him. It gave him a headache. Like thinking Johnny was his best friend, but Johnny was slime.

  His plan had worked tonight. He was happy about that. He had shown Leigh-Leigh that he meant business. He wanted that treasure, and she’d better give it to him or else.

  But his heart was still beating too hard from fear. At first he’d just been nervous. What if it didn’t work? Then the kid came running down and out onto the jetty, and he’d been so excited. It was working just as he planned. He called Clay on his cell phone and waited.