Into This River I Drown (5 page)

“Now, what’s going on, son? It isn’t like you to keep things from me. Not for this long.”

“I’m scared.”

His eyes widened. “Of me?”

I shook my head. Then shrugged. I didn’t know which was true.

“Benji, what on earth would make you scared of me?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice cracking. Still, I couldn’t look away.

“Did you break the law?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you hurt someone?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

He blurred as my eyes burned. “Because I’m afraid you won’t look me in the eye anymore. That you won’t respect me.”

Big Eddie leaned over, so that our faces were only inches from each other. He studied me and I let him. “I will always look you in the eye,” he finally said. “I’ve raised you to be honest and kind. I’ve raised you to be brave and strong. If you can become the man I think you’ll be, then you and me will always be eye to eye. You get me?”

I nodded, because I did. “Deep breath,” he said, his hand still on my shoulder. I took in air. “Let it out,” he said. I did. “Now, tell me.”

“I think I might… be… you know. Gay. Or whatever.”

He cocked his head at me and squinted his eyes, which would have been funny under normal circumstances. But this was not normal. I couldn’t breathe. He tightened his grip on me. His nostrils flared. He dropped his hand and stood up straight, still looking me in the eye. I followed him as he went up. “You
think
?” he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

I shook my head. I knew what he was after. “I
know
,” I told him.

He nodded. And then, unbelievably, he laughed. “Jesus
Christ
, boy! Where the hell do you get off scaring me like that!”

My heart sunk.
He doesn’t believe me,
I thought. That hurt worse than any kind of fury from him could have.

“I thought you were going to tell me something really bad!” He laughed harder, slapping his hand against his thigh. He caught my eye again and something passed then between us, and he must have felt my fear, my pain. His laughter bled to chuckles and he wiped his eyes and leaned down before me again, putting his hand back on my shoulder.

“You sure?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

I nodded, tears on my cheeks.

“Benji, do you know me?”

“Sir?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Big Eddie,” I said.

“And?”

“You’re
my dad,” I say in the cab of the blue Ford as I approach Big House. I’m lost in years and it’s like my father is next to me.

Big Eddie
nodded. “You’re damn right I am. So you should know by now that I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re gay or straight or one of those tranny guys that likes to dress up in a slutty skirt and pretend you have a vagina.”

My eyes bulged.

“You are my son,” my father said, ignoring my fierce blush. “The only one God saw fit to give me. As long as you grow up to be a good man, the rest doesn’t matter. We clear?”

I nodded.

“We clear?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

I thought that was it, I thought we were done. But then Big Eddie stood up, pulling me to his side. I wrapped my arms around him as he patted my back. “Dad?” I asked finally.

“Yeah?”

“You’re really not mad?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

We stood there for a moment longer, watching leaves fall from the tree in front of Little House. My breathing evened out, my eyes dried, my heart stopped pounding a million beats a second. I didn’t know then that less than a year later I’d be standing under gray skies as my father was lowered into the ground, a stone angel his only guardian.

If I’d known… well, I don’t know what difference it would have made. I’m sure I would have held on for just a moment longer. I’m sure I would have done everything I could to put myself in the oncoming path of Death so it would not take my father. Time is a river, I’ve learned. Always moving forward. But for people like me, people who have loved and lost, the river is something we fight. We swim against the current, trying to get back to the way we once were, trying to hold onto anything to keep us from getting swept away. It’s exhausting and eventually we tire. Still we push on. I can’t let him go into the river and be swept away.

I can’t let him go.

I finally calmed down enough to drop my arms, but we stood there, side by side, for a bit longer, his arm on my shoulders.

Eventually, we got back to work on Little House.

I reach
Big House and waiting for me, as she always is, is Nina. She sits on the porch steps, the headlights of the truck washing over her worried face. I stop, trying to ignore the blue flash that flits off out of the corner of my eye. More and more frequently this has been happening, and I wonder if I should be worried. My luck, it’s not a ghost I don’t believe in, but a malignant brain tumor pressing against my occipital lobe. Eh. It’s probably too late as it is.

I stop the truck in front of her and she skips down the remaining steps, her sandals slapping against the heels of her feet. “You’re late,” Nina scolds me as I open the Ford’s door, her sweet face marked with lines that belie her condition. I often wonder if Mary ever felt guilty that she was not born with Down syndrome like her twin sister. Nina and Mary are fraternal twins, which is why Nina has Down syndrome and Mary doesn’t.

“You’re late,” she says again, poking me lightly in the chest. “Why were you late? I was waiting.”

I sigh. “Got pulled over,” I mutter, not thinking of my words before I speak them.

Her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth, her words muffled when she speaks. “Oh
no
! Did you get a ticket? Did you get in trouble? Did you get
arrested
?” She’s starting to get upset, her chest heaving slightly, the intake of her breath sharper.

I reach out and pull down her hands from her mouth. Tears are already glistening on her cheeks. I rub my thumb over her palms, the only thing that calms her when she’s upset. “It’s okay,” I say softly. “Nothing wrong. Sheriff Griggs just wanted to chat.”

She startles me when she sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry. “I don’t like that man,” she snaps. “He was never nice to me when we were kiddies.”

I smile. “Can I tell you something?” I ask her.

She nods eagerly, the tears forgotten, curling her hand into mine as she pulls me forward to whisper it in her ear. She smells like strawberry shampoo. I kiss her head once before I whisper, “I don’t like him either.”

Nina turns to me, searching my eyes to make sure I’m not fooling her. I show her my sincerity with a small smile and she giggles, putting her hand up to her mouth again. “He’s a bad man,” she says in her laughter. “Bad, bad man!”

“Bad man,” I agree. I’m about to ask how her day was when she suddenly stops laughing and looks above me, her eyes wide. I turn, but there’s nothing there. “What is it?” I ask, looking back at her.

“Wow,” she says in awe. “It sure is bright today.”

“The stars?”

“Oh, no,” she says, a beautiful smile growing on her face.

“The moon?”

“Bless the moon,” she says, “but no. What did you do today?”

“I was at work, Nina. You know that. At the store.”

She shakes her head. “No, Benji. What did you
do
?”

“I… I don’t know what you mean, Nina.” Goosebumps sprout on my arms. “Nina?”

“Oh, Benji,” she whispers in reverence, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight as she watches the space above me. A wind picks up, blowing through the trees.

“What do you see?”

“Blue,” she says. “There is so much blue.” She sighs. “It’s been around you for a long time, but now it’s just so
blue.
You did something. It’s why I wait, you know.”

“Is it?” I choke out.

My aunt glances at me before looking back up. “Yes. Every night you come home, there’s a bit of blue that follows. Sometimes it’s faint. Sometimes it’s bright. But it always dances, Benji. It always dances after you. I’m not sure if….” She becomes distracted again.

I don’t believe this
, I think.
This isn’t real.
There’s nothing there. I see nothing. I feel nothing.

But that in itself is a lie. That which I do not believe has been there ever since I returned to Little House. The hand I don’t feel on my shoulder. The breath I don’t feel on my neck. The flash of blue that isn’t there. Ever since that night, I’ve come home to find her waiting on the porch, her hands folded in her lap, waiting for me. She’s always delighted when I pull up in the Ford, clapping her hands and laughing. I always thought it was me, that she’d been happy to just see me. And while that may be part of it, it seems, for her, there is more.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Reality isn’t flashing blue or disembodied hands. Reality isn’t the feeling that someone is always there, that I’m never truly alone. Reality isn’t—

I stop, cutting myself off.

Nina giggles and claps her hand. “Whatever you did,” she tells me, “it sure is something. I’ve never seen it so bright.”

“Nina?” I croak.

“Benji?”

I can’t ask. My throat works.

She waits.

I have to know.
I can’t
not
know.

“Is it him? Is it….” I can’t find the words to finish.

She appears startled as her gaze finds mine. She takes a step toward me and reaches up to cup my face, her hands soft and cool against my flushed skin. I stare down at her wide eyes and tell myself the flash of lights I see reflected back aren’t there, that I’m hallucinating. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m fucking lonely and I’m making up shit that isn’t
there
. I’m seeing things that aren’t
there
. I’m losing my fucking
mind—

“Big Eddie loves you,” Nina says, rubbing her thumbs against my cheeks. “Sometimes, I think he’s closer than even you could imagine. But this? This is
blue
, Benji. Different.”

“I don’t understand.”

Her brow furrows. Then, “Secret?”

Secret? This game we played when I was a child? This word I haven’t heard from her in years, and hearing it now knocks me off my axis. She flexes her fingers against my skin. “Secret?” she insists.

I nod.

“Cross your heart?”

“Hope to die,” I tell her as I make an X shape on my chest with my finger.

“Stick a thousand needles in your eye,” she finishes solemnly. She pulls on my face until I’m lowered to hers and her lips are near my ear. I shudder as she breathes.

Finally, she says, “The blue follows you because it worries. The blue dances to make you notice. The blue flashes to make you smile.”

“Worries? About what?” Not that I believe a damn thing she’s saying. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be feeding these fantasies of hers. She’s obviously deluded herself into thinking—

“You, Benji. It worries because of the river. You’re drowning.”

I jerk my head back out of her hands, and for a moment she leaves them outstretched in front of her, as if she’s offering herself to whatever it is only she can see. I take a step back, because she’s too fucking close, and I can still feel her breath on my skin.

Nina lowers her arms and opens her eyes, those damnable, intelligent eyes. She’d been born with Down, yes, but fell into a category that only affects a small portion of those afflicted: mosiacism. During her gestation, some of the cells in the Down’s embryo were able to revert back into their normal chromosomal arrangement. Which essentially means that while she still has Down syndrome, her intelligence is above others with her same condition. I’ve grown used to her insights, knowing she is much smarter than most people will ever know.

But this?

“What did you
do
?” she asks again, but as if she is speaking to herself. “What changed? Why today? Why now and—” She stops suddenly, a sharp intake of breath. She slowly raises her eyes again, passing over my face until she’s looking above me. She’s silent. Then, “I see.” Pause. “And you would do that? For him? Oh. Oh. Yes. Oh, yes. So lonely. Like you? Like… you.”

I am rapt, unable to look away. A tear slips from the corner of her left eye and down her smooth cheek. I reach up and rub it away and she comes back to me, whatever conversation going on in her head now over. Or at the very least on hold.

She grasps my hand and says, “You see it, don’t you?”

I shake my head before I can stop myself. “Nina, I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s not real. There’s no blue. There’s no light. It’s just a trick your mind is playing on you.”
Because that is what I must believe. Please believe it too.

She gives me a knowing look.

“There’s nothing up there,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice level. “There’s nothing there. You know this. You’re better than this. You’re smarter than this.”

“Apparently the smarter of the two,” she retorts.

I sigh. “Nina—”

“Benji, it’s here, no matter what you do. Open your eyes.”

“My eyes have been open for years now,” I say bitterly, not expecting her to understand. “They’re open. You can take my word on that.”

She suddenly rushes forward and throws her arms around my shoulders and buries her sweet face in my neck. She starts to cry quietly and I hold her while she lets it out.

After a time, she looks up at me with bright eyes and a watery smile. “Oh, Benji,” she says. “I’m sorry you feel so lonely. I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

A tremor threatens to rise through me, but I push it away. I kiss her forehead instead. “How can I be lonely when I have you?” I ask her.

Nina laughs as she pulls away, wiping her eyes. “It’s my bedtime,” she tells me suddenly and turns back toward Big House. I watch her reach the porch and am about to head back to the truck when she calls out my name.

“It won’t be much longer,” she says. “Pretty soon, I think you’ll see.”