Into This River I Drown (10 page)

My father: “Ten years old already, Benji? Pretty soon, you’re going to be all grown up and will probably be bigger than I am! You’re going to be a big guy and you will take this whole world by storm. Just you wait.”

Pastor Thomas Landeros says, “Into the ground we lower a man who was a husband. A father. A friend, both to us and this community. God’s plan may not make sense to us right now, and it may even make us angry, but rest assured there is a reason for all things, even if that reason is hidden from our eyes. Isaiah 41:10 reads: ‘Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; Yea I will help thee. I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.’”

A deep voice, a strong voice that is already growing more familiar: “That water was
cold
! Shit. The truck. Oh, I love that truck. Looks like I’m going to have to drive. Unless you want to wake up and take over. That would be great, right about now. I’m not sure how good I’m going to be at driving. I get the idea, but sometimes things are harder than they look.”

My mother says, “He’s gone, Benji. Oh my God, Big Eddie is
gone
. I don’t know how it—oh,
Christ
. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. My heart—oh, how my heart
hurts
.”

Christie Fisette says, “You can sleep now, finally. We’re going to stay here as long as you need us. Sometimes it’s harder to ask for help the more you need it. So there is no need to ask us. We know what you need. You sleep and let us carry you for a while.”

Big Eddie says, “And then I got down on one knee and—Lola, you stop hitting me! Ha ha ha! Benji should hear this! He’s old enough now! So, as I was saying, I got down on one knee and I said, ‘Lola Fisette, I don’t have a ring right now. I don’t have a lot of money right now. I actually don’t have a lot of
anything
right now aside from my big dick, but if you promise to marry me, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.’ And you know what she said? She looks me straight in the eye and says, ‘Your dick ain’t
that
big!’”

Sheriff Griggs: “I’m sorry, Lola. There just doesn’t appear to be evidence of foul play involved. It looks like Big Eddie just got distracted on his way out of town and lost control. There’s just not any indication that he was run off the road, and believe me when I say we looked. I’d not close the book on this matter if I wasn’t 100 percent sure. You’ve known me since we were kids, and Big Eddie knew me longer. We all grew up together, along with your sisters. You know I am a man of my word. I promise you.”

Mary Fisette, overheard: “I know he loved you, Lola, but he
worshipped
the ground Benji walked on. There is nothing Big Eddie wouldn’t have done for him. But he’s not here and you are. And you need to help him. You’re losing him, Lola. It’s been almost two years since the accident, and Benji is pulling further and further away. You’ve got to do something before it’s too late. He’s drowning, honey, and I don’t know how much longer he can last. You lost your husband, but he lost his
father
, the only one he will ever have.”

That strong voice: “Okay, how hard can it be? You’ve seen people do this for decades. Just put that key thing into the slot thing and move the stick thing to the ‘D’ thing. I can do this. I am a driver. I can do this. Bless me, Father. Please.”

Big Eddie says, “You are my son, the only one God saw fit to give me.”

Big Eddie says, “You must be strong. You must be brave.”

Big Eddie says, “Wake up. You gotta wake up, Benji. He’s come down from On High because
you
called him and you’ve got to wake up. He’s been waiting, yes, but
you
helped bring him here, down to this place. You’ve got to help him. He’s going to act
big
, he’s going to talk
big
, but deep down, you two are the same. You must remember this. You are the same. You grieve. You think yourself alone. He will need you as much as you’ll need him. It’s almost time for you to stand. It’s almost time for you to stand and be true.”

I—

Wake up.

Dad, I can’t just—

Wake up.

I miss you so damn—

WAKE UP!

I—

—open
my eyes. I’m in the cab of the blue Ford, and we’re
flying
through the dark, the engine of the truck roaring as the headlights illuminate the road before us. I’m covered in my dad’s old coat, my skin still slightly chilled.

I look over at the man who fell from the sky, his big hands wrapped tightly on the steering wheel at ten and two, just like I was taught at sixteen. His eyes are wide, his forehead scrunched up in concentration, his lips pulled back in a grim smile. I gasp and reach for the passenger door, trying to put as much distance between us as I can.

“Uh,” I say articulately.

He glances over at me, dark eyes flashing, his smile growing wider. “I’m driving!” he says with an excited rumble. “I didn’t think I could get the hang of it, but I’m
driving
.” His gaze never leaves my face.

“Watch the road,” I whisper.

He ignores me, his eyes still on mine. “Sure as shit, I didn’t think I’d get it that fast. I mean, I’ve
seen
you people drive before, and I thought, how hard could it be? I mean,
you
obviously weren’t going to do it, because you decided it was a good time to pass out.”

“Slow down,” I say.

“I mean, I’ve seen you drive this old truck before, but you
never
go this fast. You drive like Abe does in that little car of his—”

“
Slow the fuck down!
” I scream at him.

My sudden outburst startles him, and he jerks the wheel to the left and the Ford follows with a groan of metal and rubber, the rear beginning to fishtail and swing to the right. There’s a moment when all the weight of the truck seems to be on the passenger side and I think we’re going to flip, but then that passes and we’re spinning out. The truck comes to a halt in the middle of the two-lane highway, having spun in an almost complete circle before stalling in the road. The only sounds are the ticking of the cooling engine and our panting breaths.

Then, “You’ve got a loud yell for such a little guy,” he says, arching his right eyebrow in appreciation. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell that loud before, Benji. Not even when you were
really
angry.”

My brain can’t compute this, this intimacy, him speaking as if he knows me. My brain doesn’t seem to be computing a whole hell of a lot, now that I think about it.
It’s probably because I’ve completely lost it,
I tell myself.
I’ve gone completely and utterly batshit insane. It’s the only thing that would make any sense.

“Who. The fuck. Are you?” I ask, ignoring the waver of my voice

He rubs a hand over the rusty stubble on his face. He appears to be trying to choose his words carefully before he speaks, but seems to be having difficulty doing so. This, of course, only makes it worse. People who choose their words can choose to lie. “Calliel,” he says finally, averting his eyes from mine. “My name is Calliel and I’m the guardian angel for Roseland and its people. And I’m here because of you. You called me, Benji. You called me and I came. Oh, and I’ve always wanted to tell you, because it hurt me to see you so. I’ve always wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your dad. Big Eddie was a great man. He was a great man and I’m sorry.”

I wish he’d lied.

corporeal

So, either
he’s certifiable, or I am, or we both are.

That’s the only thing I can think as I stare at him as he starts up the truck again, the grin back on his face at the purr of the Ford’s rebuilt eight-cylinder engine. He straightens out the steering wheel, pulling us back into the right lane. I am astonished when I feel mildly amused on top of everything else kicking around in my head when he keeps the speed below thirty miles an hour, grumbling under his breath that he’s doing Abe proud. He keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes, but he’s trying to be sneaky about it. It does no good for him to try and hide it as I am still plastered against the far door and facing him, refusing to take my eyes off of him.

Him.
Calliel.

I’m the guardian angel of Roseland and its people.

And I’m here because of you….

“How did we get back across the river?” I ask finally, unsure what else to say.

He stops muttering to himself about speed and starts watching me again until I remind him to pay attention to the road. “I’m not going to crash,” he says, his brow furrowing. “Have a little faith, huh?”

Faith. That’s funny, coming from a man who claims he is an…. Jesus Christ. This is not a real thing.
He
is not a real thing. He’s just a man. He’s just a normal—

“I carried you across,” he says. “You’re light and I’m big, so it wasn’t that hard.”

“How come I’m not wet?”

He snorts. “I carried you above the water.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. “You can walk on water?” I whisper.

“What?” He laughs. “Of course not. I waded across and carried you over my head so you wouldn’t get wet.” He laughs again. “Walk on water. You’re funny.”

I didn’t think it was funny. At all. “Why didn’t you just fly over? Angels have wings right? If you were really an angel, you would have just flown over.” Logic wins every time.

He shakes his head. “Can’t seem to pull them out here. I tried. I stood there on the riverbank for a minute or two, but nothing happened. I don’t know if it has to do with me becoming corporeal or what.”

“Cor-what?”

He shrugs. “Physical. Real. Here.”

“Did anyone see you crossing the river?”

“No. I got you back in the truck in time. There were people coming, though. I could hear them. I came down from On High with a crash, so I’m not surprised. I didn’t think it was going to be that loud, you know? Or that bright. We passed a couple of cars before you woke up, but no one tried to stop us. I couldn’t tell who they were like I normally could. I couldn’t
feel
them. I didn’t want to take any chances. I kept you safe, just like I said I would.” He says this last in a growl, like he expects me to contradict him. I’m too overwhelmed to even really consider his words.

“Oh.” Then, sudden panic, clawing at my throat. “Where is it?” I gasped, rubbing my hands over the seat frantically, my dad’s coat falling off me. “Where did you put it? Did you leave it behind? Don’t tell me you fucking left it!”

He glances at me, a worried expression on his face. “Where’s what?”

“The feather, dammit! Where did you put the feather!”

“Benji,” he says quietly, pointing at the seat next to him. “It’s here. It’s right here.”

It is. In the dark, in my panic, I couldn’t see it. I snatch it up, sure he’s going to try and take it from me. It warms instantly in my hands. I watch him with wary eyes, wondering how I could have possibly gotten to this point.

“You know where that came from, right?” the man named Calliel asks me.

I dreamed it real
. “Just found it outside,” I mutter, looking away.

“Sure, Benji. Okay.” He doesn’t push it, but he’s not fooled.

Silence, for a time. Then, “You’re just fucking with me, right? This is a joke?”

He laughs, a deep thing that sounds like it comes from the pit of his stomach. “No. No joke. I’m not that big of a joke-teller. I hope that’s okay. But I sure like driving this truck. This is cherry, right, Benji? This ride is so cherry. Isn’t that what Big Eddie used to say?”

I can’t speak.

We drive on in the dark, a hand of ice wrapped around my heart.

The
fact that Calliel knows where he is going should surprise me, but with all that has already happened, it seems to be the least of my worries. We pass Poplar Street in silence, where I’d sat at the intersection only ninety minutes before, trying to decide if I was going to go to the seventy-seven or go home. Ninety minutes is all it has taken for my reality to change. We don’t speak. I still sit with my back to the door, watching him. The occasional car driving by illuminates his face. Sometimes he’s looking ahead, focused on his driving. Other times, he’s glancing over at me, his mouth opening like he’s going to speak, but then closing like he’s thought better of it.

He’s been waiting, yes, but
you
helped bring him here, down to this place. You’ve got to help him.

I’ve got to do no such thing. The fact that he’s now pulling into my driveway means nothing. The fact that the small smile on his face is growing as Big House comes into view means nothing. Do I call the police? Do I wake up my mother and the Trio? What do I tell them? Where do I tell them he came from? He’s certifiable, to be sure. Can I even be sure I saw what I remember seeing? The more logical explanation is that it was dark, that there was a huge storm going on over me, thunder and lightning. The light I saw falling from the sky was just some aftereffect of the storm. A freak thing. Maybe ball lightning. This man got struck and now he’s crazy. The electricity has done something to his neurons or synapses or whatever they are. And I’m just tired. Sitting beside a stranger who drove directly to my house without needing directions.

“It seems so different seeing it from this side,” he sighs, slowing as Big House looms above us. “It seems so real.”

“It’s always real,” I mutter. “Everything about it.”

“That’s not what you normally think,” he says without looking at me.

Fear again. “How do you know what I think?”

Calliel shrugs. “It’s just something I did. It was part of my job.”

“What am I thinking right now?”
Tell me the truth. Who you really are. No more bullshit. No more crazy. Tell me who you are. Tell me the truth so I know this is just a dream that I can’t seem to wake up from.