Still Waters (2 page)

“We were just leaving,” Colin said roughly.

“Oh, Colin, we saw Mary Turner tonight,” his mother called to their backs as they headed up the stairs. “She was asking about your photos and—”

Colin tugged Hannah down the hallway. He opened the door to the attic and closed it with a bang, cutting off his mother’s plaintive strains from the floor below.

Hannah faced her boyfriend. He stood with his eyes closed and his fingertips pressed to his temples, as if to erase the scene from his brain. Hannah leaned against the wall and folded her arms. It was always best not to talk to him right away after an encounter with his parents.

Finally he lowered his hands and opened his eyes. They watched each other for a second, and then Hannah started.

“I don’t know why you’re so mean to them.” She kept her voice neutral. “They don’t seem that bad—”

“That bad!” Colin almost exploded. “The drinking, they’re out all the time, and then when they do come home, it’s ‘Oh, Colin, how was your day? How are you? Let’s talk,’ like they have any idea what’s going on in my life at all. But I can tell all they want to do is get away from me. They can’t stand to be in the same room with me.” He sank down slowly on the attic steps and leaned his head against the faded wallpaper. A pattern of green lattices hung in strips, revealing a blue and white striped paper beneath.

Hannah sat on the step beside Colin and took his hands. She peered into his face insistently until he met her gaze. “You know
this is really strange, what you’re saying, right? Parents don’t just hate their own kids for no reason. And it’s not like you’re a bad person. You’re so good and sweet.”

Colin stared at their joined hands. His face was a mask of sadness, but the lines of anger had softened. “You don’t understand. It’s been like this forever—well, ever since Jack died.”

Hannah bit her lip. He hardly ever mentioned his brother.

Colin rose abruptly and turned around. “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about my parents anymore. Come on. I was going to show you this tomorrow, but it’ll be even better at night. Do you have your camera?”

Hannah nodded and patted her big bag. “Yeah. It’s so heavy to drag around, but I’m doing what you told me.”

“Right. The best photos happen when you’re not even looking for them.”

“I know, I know!” Hannah rolled her eyes mockingly. “I’m just a beginner, okay, Great Expert?”

“Okay.” His face was alight now. “Let’s go.”

“You’re going to show me something in your attic?”

He flashed her a blinding smile. “Just wait.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows but followed him upstairs anyway, the scarred wooden steps creaking under their feet.

The big attic loomed as they neared the top. There was a wide-open space in the middle, with a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling, throwing concentrated spots of light on the floor. Dust-cloth draped furniture sat like monoliths in the corners. Off to the sides, several doorways led to smaller rooms.

Hannah edged past an old mattress propped against one wall. Pieces of chipped paint gritted under her feet. She followed Colin into a room on the right. The doorway was smaller than the others and oddly askew. Hannah had to duck her head to avoid smacking it on the frame.

The room was piled with junk. Boxes of vinyl records were shoved against one wall, which sloped toward the eaves. Pieces of an iron bedstead were stacked against another. Several old footlocker trunks were lined up near a smeary window, under which dead moths were heavily sprinkled. The room had that hot, combustible smell of old paper and rotting plaster.

Hannah walked over to a tiny closet door. “What’s in here?” she asked, putting her hand on the worn metal knob.

Colin didn’t hear her. He was standing near the window, peering through the viewfinder, leather camera strap around his neck. The strap had been his grandfather’s, he’d told Hannah once. He showed her the monogram, LSB, on the frayed leather. His grandfather had given it to Colin on his tenth birthday, just two weeks before he died.

“Colin? What’s in this closet?” Hannah repeated, louder.

“Elves,” he said, without looking up.

“Ha-ha,” Hannah said automatically, but as she swung open the door, she half expected to see someone small crouching inside. Nothing though. Just strips of peeling wallpaper lying on the floor.

“So what did you want to show me up here?” she asked, closing the little closet door. “Other than elves.”

Colin pulled his face away from the viewfinder and beckoned her over. “Come see.”

Hannah crossed the room and looked through the window. “Oh, nice,” she breathed.

The entire city was spread before them, twinkling between the black bulks of the hills. But the old glass of the window was warped, so the city lights appeared to be rolling like waves across the landscape. Hannah looked away. It made her dizzy to look through the glass—like wearing someone else’s eyeglasses. She glanced over at Colin, who was grinning proudly.

“Pretty cool, huh?” He raised his camera to the window and clicked off a shot. “I noticed it the other day when I was looking through my dad’s old vinyl. But I waited to take pictures until you could see it.”

“Pretty cool,” Hannah agreed. She raised her Pentax to her face. But she couldn’t get a clear view. She kept focusing and refocusing, but still, she could tell the shots were going to come out blurry. Something about the trick of the window glass. Finally she lowered her camera. “I can’t get it. The glass is too messed up. You take some for us.”

“The glass is exactly what makes the effect so cool.” Colin was already clicking away. Hannah let her camera drop on the strap around her neck. She wandered around the crowded room, avoiding the creepy little closet door. The air was still and unmoving. She could feel a bead of sweat start at her forehead and trickle down the side of her face.

She brushed her fingers across the tops of some medical
textbooks stacked in a box. Her fingers left clear trails in the dust. She paused at a long spotted mirror and took a shot of her own reflection. A dented olive-green file cabinet stood next to the mirror. Hannah bent down and peered at the label on the top drawer.
FAMILY,
it said in black ink. The drawer opened with a screech when she tugged it.

The inside was crammed with old papers and files. Hannah glanced over her shoulder at Colin. He was in full photographer mode—down on his knees now and completely absorbed in the window. Quietly she lifted her camera from around her neck and laid it on top of the cabinet. She pulled the first file from the drawer. The manila folder was soft with use, the edges fuzzy. Hannah leafed through the yellowing papers idly. Bank statements, a couple of expired passports showing Colin’s parents at much younger ages. His brother Jack’s old elementary school report cards. Hannah pulled out a large stained piece of paper folded in half. A photograph that was tucked inside slid out and tumbled to the floor.

“Oops.” Hannah knelt to pick it up as Colin looked over at her.

“What are you doing?” He sounded vaguely annoyed, probably because she wasn’t as into the window photos as he was.

“Nothing. Just poking around.” She glanced at the picture—an old black and white shot, the kind with a deckled border around the edge. It showed a house perched at the edge of a lake, surrounded by pine trees. One of those big old places with a wraparound porch and a million windows. Her eyes wandered
over the gabled eaves and the big bay windows. The porch was covered with elaborate curlicues. A flagstone path led up to the door, and there were pinewoods on either side. She could make out rocking chairs and a swing on the porch. At the edge of the water, there was a pale smear that Hannah guessed was a small beach. She could make out a rowboat pulled up on the sand. “Colin, where is this place? It’s gorgeous.” She extended the picture out to him.

He glanced at it briefly. “Was it in that file? That’s nothing. It’s an old vacation house my family has. We used to go up there in the summers.” He turned back to the window. “Honestly, I barely remember the place.” He was peering through his camera again. “All I remember is that it was ugly and boring. I hated going up there. It’s probably rotting now.” He focused and pressed the shutter. “I’m getting some great shots here. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“That’s good,” Hannah said absently. She unfolded the piece of paper the photo had fallen out of. It was a rough hand-drawn map. She traced her finger along a network of labeled roads. Little triangles on the sides indicated woods. Her finger with its chewed nail followed one thin line up to the top of the map where an
X
was labeled
PINE HOUSE
in shaky script. The place even had a name, like something in a book. A circle just beyond the
X
was labeled
LAKE
. Hannah flipped the map over. “1915” was inscribed on the back in the same writing. Jesus, this thing was about a century old.

She picked up the photo again. But before she could examine
it more closely, Colin turned from the window. “I think I’ve got everything here,” he said. He looked at her hand. “Those things have probably been in that cabinet for ten years.” He walked past her toward the door.

The map felt heavy in her hands. Hannah’s fingers itched to lay it out once more. But Colin was already turning out the lights in the main room. Quickly she folded the picture into the map again, shoved the file back in the drawer, and hurried toward the stairs. She didn’t want to be left alone in the dark.

That night, Hannah dreamed of Pine House.

She was walking up a path toward the front door. On either side, the trees bent their whispering branches toward her, filling the air with their aromatic scent. The house sat in front of her, as if it had been waiting. She crossed the porch and touched the smooth wood of the front door. It swung open, leaving her standing in the center of a vast, airy living room. Huge windows were flung open and the fresh wind blew past her cheeks. Outside, little white-topped waves ran across the sparkling green lake like frosting. Hannah could feel the house embracing her. She dropped down in an armchair and closed her eyes. The sun was so bright on her face….

Hannah opened her eyes. Her room was full of light and for a moment, she lay still, her flowered comforter still drawn up around her chin. Then she rubbed her feet together and twitched the sheet a little higher. The bed was exquisitely comfortable. She burrowed her head into her pillow just as she saw the clock alarm—8:30 a.m.

Hannah jerked upright. Damn it! She was supposed to get David ready for camp and his bus came at 8:45. And she had to work today. Hannah threw back the covers and pulled on a pair of gym shorts in one motion. She zipped a sweatshirt over her tank top, swiping her hair out of her eyes. “David, get up!” she yelled in the general direction of his room as she thundered down the stairs.

In the cluttered kitchen, Hannah found last night’s dishes still in the sink and a note taped to the table.

Han—be sure to pack David a water bottle in his lunch and empty the dishwasher. I’m closing tonight, so won’t be home until 10. Love, Mom.

Hannah crumpled the note and pitched it at the overflowing trash can. She sloshed some milk into a glass and set it on the table just as her little brother came into the room. His eyes were only partially open and his glasses were crooked on his face. All of his hair was sticking up at the back.

“I don’t want to go to camp.” He slumped in a chair and stared at the milk in front of him. His T-shirt was on inside out.

“Well, I don’t want to work at that stupid hospital today, but we all have to do things we don’t want to do.” Hannah slapped some peanut butter and strawberry jam on two slices of wheat bread and stuck it in a bag, along with the requested water bottle.

“That’s different. You get to work with Laurie. I don’t have
any
friends at camp.”

“Just because I’m working with my friend doesn’t mean it’s not work.” Hannah opened the fridge and peered into its depths and then added a cheese stick and an apple to the bag. “Anyway, Mom said she doesn’t want you sitting around the house all summer playing Xbox.”

David stared into his lunch bag. “You forgot cookies.”

Hannah exhaled through her nose. “You can get them. Two Oreos, that’s it.” She heard the rumble of a diesel engine outside and the hydraulic wheeze of bus doors. She grabbed David by the back of his shirt and pushed him toward the door. “Go! You’re going to miss it.” He broke into a trot. “And fix your shirt—it’s inside out!” she yelled after him. The door banged shut. The bus roared away and silence descended.

Hannah sighed. She turned to the dishwasher, lifting out the mismatched plates and bowls and stacking them on the stained Formica countertop. As her hands moved automatically, her mind went back to last night in the den with Colin. If only she could just say she loved him! He seemed so sure of himself. Graduation night two months ago, sitting in his car outside her house, he’d taken both of her hands in his and just … said it. His eyes had seemed so intense in the dark car, with the streetlight shining in through the windshield. Hannah could hear every rustle of their clothing, every shift of their bodies on the seat as he’d leaned over to press a long kiss on her lips.

But when it was her turn to say it, she couldn’t. It was like a heavy door slamming shut inside her.

I want to,
Hannah thought now, squeezing a mug in her
fingers.
I want to so badly.
She leaned on the edge of the counter for a second, tears rising in the back of her nose. Colin was so sweet, so unexpected. Even now, she couldn’t believe he actually loved her—
her
! Serious, studious, responsible, boring Hannah.

But it felt like such a huge thing, telling someone you loved him like that. It had to be right. She had to be sure. She lifted a stack of plates from the dishwasher. Maybe if they had some real time alone, like she’d told Colin last night. Then she could say it.

She laid the plates carefully in the cupboard and her hand froze. Images from her dream came flooding back into her head. The open, empty room looking out onto the lake itself. The heavy pine trees rustling. Then, in her mind’s eye, she saw Colin lying beside her in a hammock, the breeze blowing on their faces as they kissed.