Drinking Life (Keeper of the Water Book 1) (14 page)

Whenever I’m out in nature, I feel like a different person. The air smells sweeter, the sun shines brighter, the chirping of birds and the trickling of the river join together in a symphony of life. But my beautiful music is interrupted by Cassie’s shrill laughter and I can hardly enjoy my surroundings with her hanging all over John. I want nothing more than to row as fast as I can—if I really work hard, maybe I could row my way home in a few hours instead of an entire day.

After we load up the raft and canoe with the gear and put them in the water, I jumped in the canoe with Celeste as usual. She and I always ride together in the canoe – we both feel more comfortable in it than the inflatable rubber raft. Celeste tried to convince Cassie to join us but she might as well be surgically attached to John’s hip. The two of them joined Dad in the raft and went down the river first, with Celeste and I just behind.

“They need to stay in front of us so we can watch them the whole time,” Celeste says. She speaks it loud enough for Cassie and John to hear, loud enough to embarrass me in front of John and make Cassie hate me even more.

But following them is exactly what we do and whether I want to or not, I keep a close eye on Cassie to make sure she is okay. Dad and John work together to row the raft while Cassie sits in the front, directing them like a queen. She looks ridiculous wearing the bright orange life-jacket the whole time but I’m sure she would make my mother proud. I wonder if they’re as miserable listening to her constant talking…

Celeste’s head suddenly cocks to the side and she looks at the woods on either side of the river. When she starts to row harder, I keep up and we zip by the raft within minutes. Dad gives us a curious look but says nothing. Once we get farther ahead, Celeste stands at the front of the canoe and continues to study our surroundings.

“What is it?” I ask quietly, knowing the sound of our voices carry across the open water. Cassie keeps talking so the guys have no reason to worry yet. But I can sense Celeste’s fear and even feel my own tingle of concern as I look out at the seemingly endless trees.

“I thought I saw something out there but maybe not,” she says, relaxing only the slightest bit. “This whole trip has made me uncomfortable.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I say sarcastically, picking up on one of Cassie’s bad habits.

Celeste swears that John is up to no good though he holds nothing more dangerous than his cell phone. Between her constant paranoia and Cassie’s constant flirting, the trip down the river is hell. I can’t even take pleasure the few times John steals glances in my direction—he still wears the big sunglasses so I can’t tell if he’s looking
at
me or
beyond
me at the trees and flowers. The only time I crack the slightest of smiles is when my eyes meet Dad’s and he rolls his eyes. We may not be blood but we definitely share the same thoughts.

After several hours, we reach the first planned stop on Dad’s chart. We pull over to a small clearing on the side of the river to fish for our lunch. Normally I can spend hours in the canoe without feeling antsy but today is different—I jump out the second we touch shore. I help Dad get together the fishing gear and John tries to talk to me. But he no sooner gets out a few words when Cassie takes him by the arm and drags him away.

“Come see these flowers over here with me,” she says. She looks at me before adding one more word. “
Alone
.”

John frowns but does as he’s told. I shake my head, wondering how she has this effect on people.

“Don’t wander off too far,” Celeste warns.

I try to focus on the task at hand but the sound of Cassie’s voice distracts me and I cut my finger on a fishing hook. I sigh—it probably sounds more like a grunt. This area of the national park is desolate and miles away from civilization. But I would happily run off into the woods if I could; I’m certain I could find my way home.

“What are you writing on that thing?” Cassie whines. I look up long enough to see her snatch John’s phone away from him. He’s surprised by how quick she moves when she wants to. “You’ve been on this all day. Hey! Who are you telling about my orange jacket?”

John gets the phone back from her and shoves it in his pocket.

“It’s just my uncles,” John explains. “They made me promise I’d check in with them. I was only telling them that there are plenty of safety jackets.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet that they worry about you,” she squeals.

Cassie’s clearly impressed by his uncles but I find it very odd. Those two men do
not
seem like the caring type. It’s hard to believe that they would worry about John wearing a life-jacket considering how much he butts heads with them.

“Fishing rods are ready,” Dad announces. “John, do you want to try this out?”

“Definitely,” he says. He rushes away from Cassie, maybe a little
too
excitedly. Cassie is on his heels like a little yipping puppy. When he walks by me, our eyes meet for a minute and he mouths the words ‘help me.’ I laugh, which earns me another sneer from Cassie.

“Cassie, could you help me start the fire?” Celeste asks.

“What for?”

“We’re trying to catch fish but I don’t know how to make sushi,” Celeste says.

“But I don’t want to go near a fire. It might singe my hair,” Cassie complains.

“Then you can at least gather sticks,” Celeste says. She cuts off Cassie before she can whine her way out of helping. “I warned you there would be work to do. So you can either gather sticks—which there are plenty of all around us—or you can help pull fish out of the river water.”

Cassie huffs and puffs dramatically. “Whatever,” she says as she stomps into the nearby woods.

I see a sudden change in John, whose face brightens like an inmate just released from prison. He and Dad get along well and enjoying fishing the river. Just like the bow shooting class, John seems to be a natural at this, too. I’m starting to wonder if he’s not the outdoors novice he claimed to be.

“I’ve done some fishing when I lived down in Florida but that was a long time ago,” John admits to my father.

“Looks like you haven’t lost your touch,” Dad says as John reels in the first fish.

Dad hands me the fish to clean and John wants to watch the process. Nobody
wants
to watch a fish being gutted so I can only assume that this is his way of spending more time with me. Cleaning a fish isn’t pretty but he doesn’t even flinch as I split it down the middle and pull out the guts.

“Thank you for the food you’ve provided,” I whisper.

“No problem,” John says with a smile.

I’d forgotten for a moment that he was here. “Not you. Mother Earth. It’s something I picked up from Celeste. She says it every time we have to kill something, even a fish. It feels right though I guess it’s kinda weird, huh?”

“Not at all,” he says. “It’s very respectful… in a weird kind of way.”

He chuckles so I give him a playful elbow to the ribs. Dad soon brings over a second fish.

“Somebody sign me up for Survivor,” he jokes. It was mildly amusing the first time I heard him say it but that was
years
ago. John looks at him, confused. “You know, like the TV show.”

“Ahh, yes,” John says with a forced smile. “I understand.”

“I don’t watch much TV either,” I say when Dad walks away.

John takes the filet knife from me and guts the second fish. Cassie takes a break from collecting sticks—big surprise!—and comes over to us. I guess I’ve had too much alone time with John and she doesn’t like the fact that he’s smiling. But before she interrupts with a complaint about me or a cutesy comment to John, she sees the fish guts and rushes away in disgust. I think I’ve finally found her Kryptonite. Now if I can only convince John to wear a fish-guts necklace at all times…

“I think you know more than you’re letting on,” I tell him.

He smiles mischievously and shrugs as he finishes cleaning the fish. His lack of denial speaks volumes, especially to the other person who overhears us.

“Huh!” Celeste grunts suspiciously. But she doesn’t look up from the sticks she rubs together, which start to smoke just before the spark of a fire begins. She’s the master fire-builder of the group and usually takes great pride in teaching the skill to our customers. Apparently, John isn’t quite VIP-enough for her. She piles more sticks onto the small flame but quickly runs out of them. “Cassie, I need more wood.”

“More?” she huffs. “Only if John will come with me to get them.”

“Just hurry,” Celeste says. “And don’t go far. We only have a few minutes before the flame burns out.”

When John doesn’t follow right away, Cassie grabs him and pulls him along. He flashes me an apologetic frown as he goes with her. I give the fish to Celeste and start to grab sticks nearby. There’s no need for Cassie to take John so far away, at least no reason that has to do with gathering sticks. Just as I drop a few onto the fire, a scream cries out of the woods. In a flash, Celeste jumps to her feet and pulls a knife out of her boot—I never even knew she kept one there. I’m shocked but fall in step behind her, both of us moving so fast that the world is a blur around us. I follow Celeste but would’ve known exactly where to go even if she wasn’t here; another one of those instinctual things I’ve got.

Within seconds, we find John kneeling over Cassie, who’s crying in pain. I have no idea what happened but my first instinct is to attack John. I can barely contain that urge and Celeste obviously feels the same. She rushes at him with her knife raised.

“Get away from my daughter!” she yells.

John does not move and is about to finally taste Celeste’s wrath when Cassie screams.

“Stop, Mom!” she yells in fear. “
God!
”

Celeste knife is only inches from John’s throat but he does not budge, does not look afraid. It’s almost eerie how calm he remains.

“It’s her leg,” he says coolly. “She tripped.”

There’s a small hole in the ground beside Cassie, who holds her ankle and grimaces. Now that I take in the entire scene without the thought of Cassie in peril, it’s pretty obvious what happened. Celeste can also tell but she’s still slow to move the knife away.

“Calm down, he’s only trying to help,” Cassie snaps. “You’re acting like a total
psycho
.”

Dad shows up a few seconds later as Celeste returns the knife to her boot-sheath. He looks confused but I quickly explain that Cassie fell. Celeste still eyes John closely.

“Okay, Celeste, let’s take a look at her ankle,” Dad says, sensing the tension. Cassie’s ankle is not broken and barely swollen so they decide to stand her up. Cassie wants John to help but he knows enough to stay back for the time being. She wraps an arm around each of their shoulders and hobbles away. Her grimace appears overly-exaggerated; I doubt she’ll win any awards for Best Dramatic Actress.

“Nia, you stay behind and finish gathering sticks. John, would you mind helping her?” Dad asks.

“Of course,” John says.

“That’s okay, I’m fine,” Cassie says, trying to let go of her helpers. “I can help, my ankle doesn’t even hurt that much.”

But Celeste does not want to hear that and practically carries away Cassie, who keeps trying to look back at me and John. I’m sure she’ll make me pay for this at some point in the future but for now I don’t care.

“I’m so sorry how Celeste reacted with that knife. I promise she’s not as irrational as she’s been acting,” I say.

John shrugs. I still can’t get over the fact that he’s so calm—Celeste may be a rational person but I truly believe she
was
seconds away from slitting his throat.

“It is not the first time I have been threatened,” he says. “Besides, I understand why she is so protective.”

“I feel like their relationship is a bomb waiting to explode. The more Celeste tries to protect her, the more Cassie pushes her away,” I explain.

John nods and takes a few steps closer to me. “Yes, I can see how Cassie can be difficult like that. But I don’t want to talk about her anymore, not right now.”

My heart flutters again and I instinctively back up, bumping into a tree as he comes closer to me.

“I did not want Cassie to come on this trip,” he says. “That’s why I showed up so early this morning; I knew she would still be sleeping from the party she went to last night.”

“Oh, you knew about that? Did you have fun?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.

“I did not go to some foolish party when I knew Cassie would be hanging all over me the entire time.”

He comes closer and closer to me, now standing just a foot in front of me. I barely realize when the small bundle of sticks drops from my arms.

“That doesn’t seem like a nice way to talk about your girlfriend,” I say.

He shakes his head slowly. “
Cassie
says that she and I are together.
I
do not say that. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I blush and don’t how to respond. I wish I could come up with something smooth to say but inexplicably, I mention the one person I least want to. “Is that what you tell Cassie, too?”