Sojourner (14 page)

The path spreads into an open area beyond the tree line, and amid the crash of rushing water, I hear people talking and laughing.  For a second, I freeze.  The only car in the lot is Griffin’s but he obviously isn’t alone, so I try to listen to the voices, gauging the genders.  One male; one female.  Griffin and Gail maybe?  There’s only one way to find out.

I step toward the clearing and see first the huge waterfall just to my left and second that it’s not just Griffin and Gail.  Matt is with them.  My feet stop abruptly, and I think about turning around, but I’m not fast enough.  Griffin’s face lights up when he sees me, and he immediately pulls away from Gail.

   “Hey, Lizzie.  Didn’t expect you here.”  Within two steps he has closed half the distance between us.  Gail’s smile quickly shifts to a hostile frown as she shakes her head, telling me that she didn’t really expect me either, and that I’m far from welcome here.

“I was just taking a few pictures with my new camera,” I say, holding it up.  Although I’m trying to back up, Griffin is already almost at my side.  I feel the phone vibrating in my pocket and I reach inside, dragging it out just enough so that I can read the display.  Lev.  Knowing I can’t talk to them both at the same time, I slip the phone back into my pocket.

“Well, let’s go check out the waterfall.  You’ll definitely want a picture of that.”  He grabs my arm and leads me to it as he hovers nearby, staring.

“It’s beautiful.”  Unsure what to do with him so close at hand, I look at the large flowing water that appears a clear sheet as it cascades to the large pool twenty feet below.  Foam froths where the water hits.  A slight fog rises from the water, indicating a temperature difference.

“Not quite as beautiful as you.”  His voice is deep with a yearning I shudder to think about.

Uncomfortable with his consuming stare, I lift my camera and begin to snap shots as a way of avoiding eye contact.  Behind me, I hear Gail and Matt laughing.  It also sounds like they are scuffling.  He’s probably tickling her.

“How did you find my purse in the cemetery?”  I brush the hair from my face.  That question has been bothering me ever since it happened.

“I go there sometimes to visit my mom’s grave.  Then I kind of walk around the headstones.  Your purse stood out because it was dark so I picked it up.

I cold chill sweeps through me.  “I’m sorry about your mom.”

He grips the rail and shakes his head.  “That makes two of us.”

“How did she die?”

“About two years ago she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She made it six months after the doctor first told us.”  His expression is hard, and his gaze seems beyond this place.  I’d know the look anywhere.  I sometimes get it.

“I’m sorry.”   I know I’ve already said it.  I just don’t know what else to say. 

“We probably haven’t gotten off to the best start, and I’m sorry about that.”  His gaze is committed to my face, and I turn to photograph other areas of the landscape just to escape it.

“What do you mean?”  I try to keep my tone light, but it feels weighted anyway, and he knows it. 

“I know what everybody says about me, Lizzie.  I’m the rich kid who gets everything he wants.  So, if I don’t ask you out, I’m too good for you.  If I do, I only want one thing, right?  I can’t win either way.  Maybe I’ve been pretty pushy, but I didn’t mean anything by it.” He looks back at the waterfall.  The scuffling sounds grow closer, and Gail is squealing louder as if Matt tickles her.  I’d turn and look but I don’t want to give the idea that I want to join them.

I have no clue what to say to that because suddenly I’m sure I don’t really know Griffin any better than I know Lev.  I lower the camera so I can take inventory of my shots.  It’s amazing to see the clarity of whiteness against the dark water that roughly rushes down its violent path.  “How deep do you think that is?”

“Twelve, maybe fifteen feet, I guess.”  He looks at the water, frowning.  “Nice change of subject by the way.”

I flip through images.  At least a few appear promising with the sunlight flashing off the water.  “How do you stand this town?” I ask.

“I guess I’ve never really known anything different.  My family built this town which means I have to love it, right?  But it’s not me.  I want out, too.”  His leans on the low rail in front of the waterfall.  I put the camera back in my pocket and rest my hand on the rail.  My cell vibrates again and I start to answer it, but Gail’s squeal stalls me, sounding like it’s right in my ear.  I feel her body slam into mine.  I start to fall back over the railing.  Above me the sun has slipped behind a cloud.

“Lizzie!” Griffin’s voice is deep and slow.  His hand clutches mine even after I flip over the railing.  I can hear someone screaming and it takes a split second before I realize it’s me.  My cell phone slips out of my pocket and tumbles into the violent water below.  Griffin tries to hold me with both hands as my body dangles with nothing for my legs to brace.

“Help me!”

“I’m trying!” he snaps between clenched teeth.  His eyes widen in panic, and blood rushes to his face.  His grip tightens, but I feel myself slipping all the same.  Looking up, I realize it’s the gloves.  They’re coming off both my hands, and if he lets go to get a better hold, I’ll fall.

“What can we do?”  Gail leans over the rail, horrified.  Her mouth is parted and her panicked breath jets out in frantic bursts of steam.

“Matt, help me grab her wrists!” Griffin shouts.  “I can’t keep hold of her!”

As he bends to grab my arm, the gloves slip off.  My body plummets toward the frigid water, and I flail my legs, screaming.  I watch their faces start to shrink.  I try to focus on them but the sun suddenly slips from behind a solitary cloud and shimmers in a blinding flash of light that whites out everything.

Chapter Nine

 Light explodes above; my body slams into the river’s froth and roar.  But even as I kick, something swirls around me, warm, sweeping me up.  Arms wrap around me, but there is more, too.  A blanket?  No, not a blanket.  But just as surely as the arms encircle my middle, so, too, does that other conceal me from the frigid snatch of the undertow, defying it.  My hands rest on someone’s chest and somehow despite the submersion, I’m breathing. 

I open my eyes, confused, surrounded not by darkness but a warm glow, cradled in Lev’s arms.  His blue eyes stare straight at into me and his jaw clenches.

“How…?”  I try to look up, to catch my bearings, but there is only the light, centered upon us, the same light I’ve seen so many times with Lev, but more intense this time—brighter, ever the more clear and real.

“Nothing is impossible, Elizabeth.”  Lev’s voice, yes, but richer, deeper.  “Sleep.”

My breath catches, and I’m unable to speak.  The more I stare into his face, the heavier my eyelids feel until at last I cannot keep them open.  The last thing I feel is his lips brushing against my forehead.

“Elizabeth!”  The voice is distant and panicky.  “Can you hear me?”

Cold.  It’s so cold.  My teeth are chattering, and I force my eyes open.  The sunlight pours down on me, haloing Lev’s silhouette as he leans over me, water dripping from his soaked hair.  Worry has etched deep creases into his forehead and at the corners of his eyes.  He’s panting, his breath darting outward in fast abbreviated funnels that linger momentarily in the cold air before dissipating amid that light.

No—not that light.  Not that other.  Only the sun.

“Lev?”

“I’m here.”  He closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath.  He isn’t alone.  A man about Jimmie’s age, also wet to the skin, kneels nearby.  His blue eyes remind me of Lev’s, and I’m willing to bet there’s gold hair tucked under his Angels cap.

“What happened?”  The minute I speak and start moving, Lev’s shoulders sag as though an immense weight has been lifted from him.

“Geez,” he whispers, breathless.  “You scared the life out of me.  You weren’t even breathing.  I didn’t expect to ever actually
use
the CPR training I learned in Boy Scouts.”

I try to sit, but the other guy pushes me back.  “Just stay put till Lev makes sure nothing seems broken.  The last thing we want is to add insult to injury.  I’ve already called 911.”

Something’s not right about this, but I can’t put my finger on it.  Lev leans over me, scrutinizing my eyes.  “Your pupils seem fine.  I’m gonna check your ribs to make sure I didn’t accidentally hurt you during CPR.  Let me know if anything is tender.”

He lightly probes around my breastbone, glancing from my mid-section to my face and back again.  Once he’s satisfied my ribs are fine, he slowly exhales and shakes his head.

“What?”

“I was worried I might have hurt you.”  He then takes off my shoes and looks over my left foot, asking me to bend this way and that.  Then he switches to the other foot.  His shirt plasters his chest, but he’s not shivering like I am, and I’ve discovered they set a wool blanket on me. 

“Aren’t you freezing?” I ask.

His blue eyes snap to my face.  “I’m more worried about you.  It took two of us to pull you out, and let me tell you that water isn’t just cold.  It’s fast and dangerous.  Your body was zipping through it, crashing into God only knows what.”

“But you were with me.”

His frown deepens.  “No.  I just fished you out.  You scared me.”  He shakes his head.

“An ambulance is coming,” the older man says, and, for the first time I realize he’s wearing a fishing vest and waders.  He squats beside me.  “Anything broken?”

“Not that I can tell.”  Lev’s eyes flash to my face.  “Elizabeth, this is my dad, Evan.”

“Delighted,” he says and tips his hat.

“Sorry to ruin your fishing.”

“Nah,” Lev argues.  “You just added a little excitement.  The fish aren’t biting, anyway.”

I watch Lev take one of my hands and go through the same routine, and Evan repeats it with the other.  Then they ask me to move my legs and arms.  Nothing’s broken, but I could’ve told them that.  If something had been broken, I’d be screaming like part of me was on fire.  I have no pain tolerance.

“How did you end up taking a swim this time?”

“I fell over the rail at the falls.”  He sits down besides me and behind him, I see a huge fire where sparks fly into the air along with the smoke.  He tucks the blanket around my body to insulate what warmth he can.  My coat is hanging from a nearby tree to dry, dripping.  Just above the snapping fire and rushing river, I hear the ambulance wail.

“Over the Falls.”  His face turns pasty and he grits his teeth, momentarily speechless.  “What’s next?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

“No you’re lucky.  Your guardian angel is living on borrowed time.  I leave you unattended, and you find trouble.”  He shakes his head.  “Just how did you manage that?”

“Long story.”  I close my eyes, wondering if this is going to end up with another fever.  I’m beginning to hate both winter and water at this point.

“Are you getting warmer?”

“Yeah.”  And it’s true.  I am. 
Shouldn’t he be cold?
 

As if reading my thoughts, he walks over to a duffle bag and shimmies out of his shirt, a three-button navy Henley, and slips on a fresh, dry black sweater.  He dons his coat and sits next to me.  A few feet away I hear a cell phone ring, and Evan pulls his out of his pocket.  I’m guessing it’s the ambulance because suddenly he’s giving directions to where we are, which is probably pretty interesting because to me it looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere.  That’s when a shudder goes through me.