Drinking Life (Keeper of the Water Book 1) (11 page)

“I don’t really feel like talking about it,” I say.

Dad nods. I’m about to go inside when he reaches into his back pocket.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” he says.

My heart sinks as he pulls out an envelope. The
one day
I don’t get to the mail first! I’m shocked, don’t know what to say.

“This came for you today,” he says, holding the envelope out to me.

“Oh,” I finally manage to say. Nothing else comes to me. My stomach does flips but I’m not sure if it’s because my father caught me or because I’m about to find out if Katina Ammo is my real mother. My feet are frozen in place so he steps forward and gives me the letter from the lab.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t come up before. It’s not like we exactly look the same,” he chuckles. I’ve never heard a laugh filled with such sadness. “I just wish you came and talked to me before sending this away for testing.”

I still don’t know what to say. I frown and stare down at the unopened letter, unable to look him in the eye. Even though my parents lied to me, I’m still the one who feels shame.

“Oh,” I repeat when I realize he’s not going to talk again until I respond.

“I’ll save you the trouble of opening it,” he says. “I’m sorry I’ve never told you the truth before but I’m not your biological father. But I’ve always been your Daddy and I hope I always will be.”

The tears don’t begin to well in my eyes until I see my dad’s eyes watering.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I ask.

He turns away for a moment, doesn’t want me to see him wiping at his eyes.

“Your mother and I wanted you to have a normal childhood. We didn’t want you always wondering about your real father,” he explains. “And I’m not exactly proud of my past and the time I spent in jail.”

I don’t try to deny knowing about that. “I found your papers when I was setting up your office.”

“I figured,” he says.

“What did you do?”

“It’s no secret that I prefer living in a deserted area like this over the city,” he says. “I lived in this type of atmosphere for a long time and when I finally moved, I was shocked by the way city life ran. Let’s just say I wasn’t well-versed on certain laws. I had no money for a train ride I took and when the police tried to detain me, I didn’t make it easy for them.”

I nod. This is the most I’ve heard him talk about his past but apparently that’s all he has to say about it. I don’t force the subject. There was never a doubt in my mind that Dad isn’t—or wasn’t ever—a dangerous or violent criminal. If he didn’t know about paying to ride the subway or the problems with resisting arrest, it sounds like his own childhood was spent in a totally different world. I feel hopeful knowing that he turned out so kind despite whatever past he suffered through.

“If you already figured out that I was in jail when your mother got pregnant, why bother going the trouble of a DNA test?”

“I didn’t have
you
tested,” I admit. “I look less like Mom than you. What can you tell me about her past?”

“I met her soon after my release from prison. You were already a beautiful little toddler,” he says with a far-off look in his eyes. The thought brings a smile to his face. “She was already very tight with Celeste, who had a newborn of her own. I suppose they shared the bond of single motherhood. Anyway, I fell madly in love with your mother and when we married, we decided it was best to raise you as my own child. I’m sorry but I hoped you would never find out; I guess a secret like that was always bound to come out eventually.”

“Do you…” I begin, wondering if my question is appropriate to ask him. But Dad stressed the importance of talking to him about
any
thing. “Do you know who my
real
father is?”

He slowly shakes his head. “All I know if that he was dead before I even met your mother.”

This news leaves me hollow inside, disappointed that I’ll never get to meet half of what created me.

“I’ve never seen a picture of her pregnant,” I realize. “And she once told me that she has… woman problems that didn’t allow her to have more kids.”

Dad sadly nods. He was such a great father to me that I’m sure it depresses him not to have any kids of his own.

“Do you think Mom’s pregnancy problem is something she’s
always
had? Can it really be coincidence that she and Celeste were so close and yet I look
so much
like Celeste?”

I blush when finally saying my theory out loud even though a small part of me considered it for years. Dad frowns and thinks about it for a moment before shaking his head.

“I know what you’re thinking but I just don’t believe it’s possible,” he says. “When I first met Celeste, Cassie couldn’t have been more than a few months old. She didn’t look like she’d had
one
kid recently let alone two within a year.”

“But what about – ”

“The two of you looking like each other?” he says, reading my mind. “It’s true that there’s a resemblance but that doesn’t mean much. You’re both darker skinned but you both have always spent a lot of time in the sun. Besides, not all kids look like their parents. Look at Celeste and Cassie; they look as different from each other as you and your mother do.”

He makes a valid point. My overactive imagination begins to formulate more wild ideas about Celeste and Cassie but I force them out of my mind. I look back down at the letter; the time for guessing is over. I rip open the top of the envelope and stare at the folded paper inside. I can’t bring myself to take it out.

“Here,” I say, holding it out to Dad. “You read the results.”

He looks concerned—or do I just
think
he looked concerned? Either way, he doesn’t hesitate to take out the letter. His brow furrows in deep concentration as he reads. Neither of us says a word for a few of the longest minutes of my life. I study his face for any indication one way or the other but he gives me none. I can’t stay quiet any longer or I may jump out of my skin.

“So?”

Dad breathes a sigh of relief and smiles. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

I don’t exactly remember him saying that but I don’t mention it. I snatch the pages out of his hand and scan them—now I see what took him so long. There are all sorts of graphs and number charts that seem to be written in a foreign language. Why wouldn’t they write this in plain English? Even if I
didn’t
hate science class, I still probably wouldn’t understand this mumbo-jumbo. Dad reads the confusion on my face and points to the bottom of the page.

“It says you and your mother share a lot of the same DNA,” he says.

I read the DNA analysis summary at the bottom, which says in ten lines the same thing my father says in one sentence. I wish it would just say:
YES, SHE IS YOUR MOTHER
but the wording is much more confusing.

“We share a lot of the same DNA? What does that even mean?”

“I’m not geneticist but if you have the same DNA, then she’s your mother,” he says.

He seems happier by the results than I am. It’s not that I didn’t want my mother to
be my
mother. But the thought of being related to Celeste made more sense to me, would’ve made it easier for me to grasp who I am and what I’m becoming.

At that moment, my mother excitedly bursts out of the trailer. I look at my father, my eyes asking if he’d already told her about the letter. He knows what I’m wondering and shakes his head—I didn’t
think
he would want my mother to know about this.

“What are you two scheming?” she asks, her happy expression instantly suspicious. She points to the letter in my hand. “What are you reading?”

Dad grabs the letter from out of my hands and rips it in half. I’m not upset to see the proof of my maternal doubt destroyed.

“Nothing, it’s just junk mail,” Dad says. “What are you so happy about?”

“We
finally
got a call and I didn’t book a regular tour but a
VIP
tour,” she says. “
And
they already sent payment to us through the Internet.”

Dad smiles and turns toward me. “I
knew
things were going to get better. Wasn’t I just saying that, Nia?”

“Yup.”

He turns back to Mom. “How many people?”

“Only three but they want the works—canoe, raft, overnight camping, shooting lessons, fishing… everything we offer,” she says.

Dad smiles and his shoulders dip slightly—I can see the tension easing now that business was looking up. Mom rushes back inside to get going on the paperwork.

“I hope you’ll come with us on the tour,” Dad says. “Celeste and I always appreciate your help.”

I nod. We aren’t usually the most affectionate family but I step forward and hug him. I can’t say I’m over his deception or that I’ll never be upset by it again, but I’m relieved for now to finally know the truth.

“We probably shouldn’t tell your mother any of this. She’s worked so hard to give you a normal life so there’s no need to upset her with what you know,” he says.

I agree, at least for now.

“I love you, Daddy,” I say as we head toward the garage and talk excitedly about the impending tour.

I barely close my eyes that night when a light
tapping
snaps me awake. It comes from my window. In the darkness, I can see the shadowy form of someone standing on the roof, peering in at me. The sight jolts my heart and I roll out of bed, fully alert and ready to fight. But I guess if someone planned on attacking me, they wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of waking me first. My heart skips a beat at the sudden idea of John coming to see me but I push that thought from my mind. Our relationship can’t have more than one stalker and unfortunately I filled that quota already.

It suddenly dawns on me who must be out there. It’s not the first time she’s visited me in the middle of the night though it’s been years since the last time she knocked on my window, certainly not since we moved to the Poconos. I wonder if it would be safer for me if it
had
been a total stranger right outside…

I open the window to a clear, crisp night.

“Be careful out there,” I tell Cassie. I was never this worried for her when we were younger but my room was never up this high. I look down at the ground below and am amazed that Cassie climbed up here without a ladder.

“I want to talk,” she says. She doesn’t climb through the window and instead sits on the roof. I squeeze out the window and sit next to her. We both lie back and look up at the stars. Moments like this remind me that Cassie used to be different before she started getting older…

“I’m sorry I told everyone at school that you and Jeff were together,” she says. For a moment I think she might actually care about me,
might
actually care about the people who know her best. That doesn’t last very long. “But you have to get it through your skull that John and I are together now.”

Jealousy makes people do dumb things and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider bumping her
just enough
to knock her off the roof. But regardless of how angry she makes me—and how much I generally don’t like her—I could never do anything to hurt Cassie.

“I need you to stop running to my mom and telling her stuff about my life,” Cassie continues. “It’s not your place to tell her those things, whether you’re jealous of me and John or not.”

“Why would I care about you and John? I told you, we’re only friends,” I lie.

But Cassie is the master of lying and she sits up and looks at me. I continue staring up at the bright stars even though I feel her eyes on me.

“I know better, even if you’re lying to yourself,” Cassie says. “But stop being a snitch. I already have one overbearing mother; I don’t need another one.”

Cassie stands and approaches the edge. The bright moonlight shines on her and I notice she’s not wearing her regular bedtime clothes. Her makeup and hair are both done and she wears an outfit that Heather or Stacey would.

“Be careful getting down,” I tell her.

She sighs, annoyed with my concern. “I’m not an idiot.
God!
”

Cassie jumps off the roof and my heart stops. We’re at least fifteen feet above the ground and she’s not exactly the most graceful person. Could I be dreaming this? My dreams
have
been vivid recently but they’ve felt more like memories and a part of me always sensed that I was dreaming. Not so this time. I scramble toward the edge, expecting to look down and see Cassie with a shattered ankle. But she stands on the ground, putting on lipstick. I’m speechless.

“How…” I start to say but don’t know how to finish. I pinch myself hard enough to leave a welt just to make sure I’m awake.

A faint light suddenly hits my eye. My head snaps up and I’m tempted to jump down and stand in front of Cassie. A car slowly drives down our dirt path but the lights cut off and it stops before reaching our cabins. Cassie begins to walk in its direction.

“Stop!” I hiss at her. “Get back inside your house.”

I think about not only the big black truck that followed me earlier but also the feeling of being watched through my window the other night. I’m not afraid to defend myself but the thought of Cassie in trouble frightens me.

“Will you just relax and be quiet?” she hisses back at me. “It’s only Heather picking me up. We’re going to a party for the lacrosse players. I
finally
got invited; I guess you being suspended this week finally helped me out. And you
better
not rush off to my mom and tell her.”

“Where’s the party?” I ask worriedly. It’s well known that the lacrosse parties turn wild and I don’t like that Cassie will be going without someone to look out for her. I’m sure there will be plenty of alcohol and I can just imagine Cassie drinking too much to keep up with the ‘cool’ kids. Apparently, she doesn’t share the same concerns.

“The party’s
not
in John’s backyard where you
love
to spend time,” Cassie says snidely.

My face burns with anger and embarrassment.

“How did you know I went there today?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t… at least until you just confirmed it. Heather and I ditched school at lunch after we saw John get a phone call and leave. We went past his house to say hi and check out where he lived,” Cassie explains. “When we stopped, John was outside arguing in Spanish with two big guys. They kept saying
ella vino aqui, ella vino aqui
and sounded real mad.”

“I don’t know what that – ”

“
She came here
,” she translates. “I figured they meant
you
. Really stalker-ish by the way.”

“Who are those two men? I got a really bad feeling from them. Could you tell John to tell them that – ”

“We don’t really talk much, if you know what I mean,” Cassie says with a cruel giggle. “He doesn’t talk about himself at all. But if those two big guys are his brothers, they might be useful under the right circumstances…”

I don’t even want to know what she means by that, not that I have time to ask her anyway. She runs off to the waiting car, moving silently in the night. I’m tempted to go after her but I’ve done enough stalking for one day. I saw Celeste’s dark house, hoping to see a light flip on and Cassie’s mother come running after her. But all stays silent and dark. Eventually I climb back inside and into my bed. But sleep eludes me as I stay awake worrying about Cassie, hoping she’s not doing anything foolish.

I worry so much that when I eventually close my eyes, I must nod off for a split second because I have a sudden flash of loud music and dancing bodies and Heather saying, “Come on, Cassie, I want to go now…”

My eyes blink open and I’m more exhausted than ever. But ten minutes later I hear the distant sound of a car and look out my window to see Cassie stumble into her house. I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I drift off…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The dreams I see are amazingly clear in detail but very scattered, none lasting more than a few seconds. It feels like I’m watching TV but someone is continually flipping from channel to channel…

A journey across a large body of water, floating in a big wooden ship through a squall, winds whipping all around me, rain stinging my eyes, barely able to see the other women manning the boat around me…

A journey across the desert, trudging from sand dune to sand dune, sweltering heat, nothing to see for miles around except mirages and the woman in front and behind me…

Walking with the rest of the women through a jungle, circled in tight formation around the old woman from the water, spears and bows at the ready as we travel…

Fighting within the forest, running and shooting arrows as gunfire erupts all around, seamlessly fighting beside the other women to combat soldiers with strange red broken cross symbols on their uniforms…

Standing in front of the old woman near the water—though a different water source than before—as she hands me a small vial of the unnaturally blue liquid while she says, “Bring this to the pilot…”

Being a part of the circle of woman I’d once stood in the center of, feeling great pride as I watch a familiar black woman interacting with the old woman in the water, though I still feel a look of hatred from a woman hidden in the shadows across the circle…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

My alarm blares and I’m pissed my dreams didn’t last longer. With a few of the thoughts still fresh in mind, I grab a pen and notebook to jot down what I remember, hoping this will jog something in my mind. But I don’t know where to begin and I’m exhausted from a long night of sleeplessness so I give up before even starting. I glance at my clock—it’s just after seven—and automatically think of going to school. Why the hell else would I be up so early? Then I remember it’s the weekend and we have a VIP tour to give. The thought of today’s excitement cuts through my sleepiness and any memory of my dreams fades away…

We don’t get too many VIP tours. Normally, we attract two kinds of customers. Most want a nice lazy canoe trip down the river where they can enjoy looking at nature—not up too close—while having a good time, drinking lots of beer. Last week’s bachelor party was a prime example. Then there are the thrill seekers, the young adrenaline junkies looking for a life-or-death battle against raging rapids. There aren’t too many of those in the Poconos, whose waters don’t exactly match the ferocity of the rivers out west. These people usually end up disappointed when their experience falls short of expectations.

But customers who sign up for the VIP treatment must be true nature lovers like me. And since business hasn’t been too hot, I plan on doing everything possible to help make this two-day tour truly spectacular. We can use all the positive word-of-mouth advertising we can get.

I throw some clothes on and rush outside—apparently I’m not the only one excited for today. Dad and Celeste already have the raft and canoe out of the garage, washing them even though neither has touched river water in nearly a week. They talk about the route we will take down the Lehigh, where we will stop to hike, where we will fish, where we will set up camp. I’ve gone on enough canoe and rafting ‘adventures’ to be familiar with the Lehigh but this will be the first VIP tour and I look forward to getting off the water to explore the state parks some more. Hopefully our customers will be interested enough…

Mom walks out of the cabin holding an armful of bright orange vests. “Don’t forget to pack these.”

“Nobody’s going to wear those things, Mom,” I say. “They’re so bright they should come with batteries.”

She shoves the life jackets into my arms. “I don’t care if they wear them or not. The vests have to go for insurance purposes, you know that.”

Dad heads into the garage and I see Celeste by herself loading the van. She spots me coming and doesn’t try to avoid me—odd now that I know she’s not my real mother. I wonder if Dad said anything to her about the DNA test. I pack the orange vests with the rest of the stuff.

“Is Cassie coming on the tour with us?” I ask.

“You mean spend all day on the river and in the woods, all night in a tent, eat off the land, sleep under the stars?” Celeste asks. I know she’s attempting sarcasm but when she describes it like that, I wonder how
any
body wouldn’t be thrilled about such an adventure. “Yeah, right. I can barely convince her to watch the Nature Channel on TV. Besides, she’s still sound asleep. She must’ve been up half the night reading or something.”

“Or something,” I repeat. Celeste looks at me and raises an eyebrow. How can she read me so easily yet be so naïve when it comes to Cassie? With one mention of Cassie sneaking out to the party, I could get her grounded for sure. But I stay quiet; having Cassie around more might not be such a good thing anyway. I shrug and head off to the garage, where Dad studies a map of the state park, circling places where he wants to stop.

“I figure we’ll make camp here for the night,” he says, pointing to an opening on the map along the river. He rambles on and on about how it’s a good spot for fishing and setting up tents and how there’s a good hike to a beautiful water spring. It’s cute to see him so excited like a little kid but I have my own work to do, starting with the big target I begin to drag outside.

“You need help with that?” he asks.

“That’s okay, I got it,” I say. It’s heavy and awkward but I don’t like accepting help from him when I don’t really need it. It must be the tomboy in me that likes to prove my strength to him.

“
I
can barely move that thing by myself,” he says in awe.

I drag the target back behind the garage and drop it in the usual spot. The target digs into the ground, which shakes beneath my feet—I guess the thing
is
heavy. I get out my new bow as well as the old ones for the students and take a few practice shots. I still can’t believe how great it shoots, as I hit bull’s-eye after bull’s-eye. It almost becomes boring that my chances of missing are just about non-existent.

In the distance, I hear the roar of a huge truck—the sound gives me the chills. I can picture the two big goons from John’s house and the black truck that followed me yesterday. I shake off the thought once the noise fades but there’s an eerie silence in the nearby woods and I feel a prickly sensation in the back of my mind. I have little doubt that something is watching me.