Chapter Twenty Three

The River Runs Red

 

WE GOT BACK as the sun was setting. Aunt Lori didn’t bring up The Talk, so we went to the game room to meet up with our friends like we did most nights.

We played pinball while the guys played pool. The radio was on, but I wasn’t in the mood for music. It just seemed to break my heart now.

I had the right flipper and Wendy had the left as we tried to get that crazy silver ball back up to the top of the game to score more points. Lights were flashing and bells were ringing. I leaned into the game and moved my body in the direction I wanted that ball to go, but we still lost.

Julie was going to meet us after her job of life-guarding. She pushed through the screen door in a hurry. She was still in her red one piece bathing suit. “I guess you’re not worried about your uncle,” Julie said, panting.

“What do you mean? He’s at the cottage,” I said.

“Really? I just saw him walking toward the river. He had your kitten in his arms,” she said.

“Wait . . . What?” I asked. It took me a second to process.

“He was carrying Oreo.” 

“But why was he going toward the river?” I asked. Oh God, he was going to get his revenge after all.

There was a short silence between us before reality hit me. I panicked. What if he was really going to drown Oreo? “I have to save him,” I yelled.

I raced to the river without waiting to see if the others followed. I ran like my mother, I ran like I was running a marathon. I would never forgive myself if I let Uncle Butch drown Oreo—just as I knew I would never forgive him for stealing home from me.

By the time I reached the top of the path that led to the river, Uncle Butch was returning. I ran directly toward him. The brush closed in around us and we were barely visible from the cottages. The sky was blood-stained and his face was pinned to the fireball hanging above us.

I broke into a thousand pieces, each fragment screaming. Okay, I say it. I give in. I say Uncle! Are you happy now?

“What did you do with him?” I asked, pounding my fists on his chest.

“Aren’t you a feisty one,” Uncle Butch said, grabbing my hands. He forced my hands behind my back. His hands were like chains against my skin, pulling me down. Then he kissed me on the mouth. His lips were wet, and his teeth scraped against mine.

I struggled, trying to release myself from his grasp, but he overpowered me. I leaned away from him, trying to pull him off balance. When that didn’t work, I was enraged. I squirmed and screamed, “No!”

He laughed at me, and I fought harder, but my strength was no match for his. I continued to squirm, determined not to let him have his way with me anymore. My anger was blinding me.

Suddenly, I fell back and my hands were free. Reds was standing behind Uncle Butch, holding a big tree limb. Evidently he had hit him with it.

I regained my balance and kicked Uncle Butch between his legs. “I’m going to tell everyone what you did to me!”

Then I saw it. The realization in Reds’ eyes. It only took a second, but I knew he had figured it out. I could see all his emotions: the hurt, the fear, the pain. He looked at me, and I was no longer the angel he saw during the fireworks. I knew right then that I would never fit into his perfect penny world. I would always be the flattened penny that my mom gave me, something different than what I used to be.

Reds held the tree limb like he was ready to swing a baseball bat. His face was the color of ripe tomatoes and his knuckles were white from holding the branch so tight. He swung the branch at Uncle Butch and I heard a whack as part of it splintered off and flew past me, just missing my head. He didn’t even notice the near collision because he was so focused on beating my uncle repeatedly across the back with the branch.

Every time Reds took a swing at him, Uncle Butch screamed, “No! Stop!”

The same words I had said to him.

A few minutes later, the rest of the gang appeared. Wendy saw me crying and her Dad bent over and beat up, I could tell her loyalties seemed divided.

Tommy took the branch away from Reds and pushed him back a little while the rest of the gang surrounded him, blocking him from Uncle Butch.

Oreo popped into my head. I ran as fast as I could toward the river, toward the horizon, leaving everyone behind in confusion.  

I walked to the river’s edge and searched for Oreo.

I yelled for all I was worth. “Oreo! Or-ree-oh!”

I followed the line of the bank in case he washed up. It was empty. The water tempted me. Muddy and maddening, it had its own way of speaking to me.

The water lapped at the edge of the shoreline, pulsing in and out as regular as a beating heart. The waning sun painted the sky red and bled into the water. I heard the crickets hum in the warm summer air. It was quickly turning dark. My anxiety got worse as I searched for my kitten. I wasn’t a good mama any more.

I saw Oreo floating by, but as my vision became clearer, Oreo turned into a log. I was relieved, but still uncertain of his safety.

I walked to the river’s edge where I stripped my shoes and socks off. I put my feet in the cold water and my feet disappeared into the muddy bottom.

Tears filled my eyes and dropped into the river. The water absorbed my fear and carried it away, and the recent events washed from my mind. I turned, travelling with the current, letting it take me as I searched for Oreo.

I swam further out, and I reached down with my foot to see if I could touch bottom. A shooting pain entered me and crawled up my leg, burning. I stepped on something. I couldn’t get it out of my foot, whatever it was. I had to get to Slippery Rock if I was going to release it. I swam hard, fighting to get a grip on the moss-covered rock. Finally, I found a crevice to hold on to and I pulled myself out of the water.

I brought my foot up and pulled the thing from my heel. I had to pull hard because a shard of glass had lodged deep in my flesh. As I pulled it out, blood flowed from the cut and washed away in the current of the river. It felt good, this cut on my foot. I examined the glass, watching the dimming light reflect through it. If even a drop of his poisonous blood was inside of me, then I didn’t want it.

Before I could stop myself, I took the jagged edge of glass and put it against my arm. I heard Uncle Butch’s voice, “This never happened.”

I pulled down quickly, creating a deep cut. I watched the blood swirl in the current and then disappear. 

It would have been enough for this to end the pain, but I cut repeatedly. It finally felt good to release the pain that was locked up inside of me.

I let go of the rock and let the water take me on its serpentine journey.

I remembered the morning I was baptized. Christianity came from the water, cleansing my soul. Now, in the river, I finally felt cleansed again as I floated first face up, then the current rolled me over and buried my face in the water. I surrendered to the river.

Then everything went black. There was no standing ovation, no applause. Just the curtain closing, and the fading into darkness.