Many Waters

  Chapter Thirty-Seven - Cody

  “I have an idea,” Lisa said on the way home that evening. It was dark by then, and we were both moodily staring at the lights of cars passing by on the interstate. She seemed unhappy, and I could hardly blame her.

  “What is it?” I asked, tiredly.

  “What if you asked for a dream tonight? So far you’ve only waited for them to come whenever they come. But it’s like Brandon told me a while back; sometimes you have to ask,” she suggested.

  “Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that,” I admitted.

  Therefore that night when we got home, that’s what we did. I don’t often pray on my knees, but that night I did, and so did Lisa even though I knew it must have hurt her leg. We put our foreheads together, and I spoke. I asked for wisdom and for courage, and for a true dream that might show me what to do. Then Lisa spoke and thanked God for His great glory and love. I’ve never believed in prayers of many words. I think God knows what we need before we even ask. To pray long is to think we can impress Him with what we say, like a lawyer in front of a judge.

  After we were done I got up and helped Lisa to her feet, and then we went to bed. And that night, indeed, I dreamed.

  It was nothing like any of the others, except that it was the same kind of vivid almost-real sort of vision. I found myself standing on the bank of a rocky river, full and clear, with a bright sun shining down and glinting off the ripples in the water. The grass was thick and green underfoot and the trees were just beginning to bud. And suddenly I knew this place, and would have gasped if I’d been awake. But as it was, I could only watch in mute horror.

  There on the bank stood three teenagers, a girl and two boys, playing in the shallows of the river, while a slightly older man in dark sunglasses watched from a distance. Farther downstream I saw my father, not much older than I am now, fly fishing for trout. I saw my mother cooking hamburgers on a camp stove, and my own six-year-old self, thin and tow-headed, building stacks of rocks beside the table. I knew what was coming, and wished I could wake up.

  Even worse, I knew with the sure and certain knowledge of dreams who those four people standing upstream from us were. Layla Garza and her three brothers; Andrew, Gabe, and Orem.

  No one had been watching Layla at the time, but in my dream I saw her glance at the older man; Andrew. He nodded meaningfully at her, and she nodded back. Then she artfully pretended to slip and fall into the deep current, with a piercing scream that made everyone turn to look. The current snatched her away at once, and she didn’t seem to know how to swim. No one else moved, but Daddy, poor, brave, selfless soul that he had been, never hesitated. He threw down his pole and kicked off his shoes and plunged into the water, swimming strongly to intercept the girl before she drowned. The current quickly carried both of them out of sight, and that had been the last time I’d ever seen him alive.

  Until now. I seemed to hang above the river, and I saw my father reach the girl and struggle to pull her to shore. They came aground on a grassy bank, him crawling from exhaustion and Layla seemingly not much better. But then she grabbed a rock from the muddy ground and smashed the back of her rescuer’s head while he wasn’t looking. He collapsed to the ground, bleeding and knocked out cold, and I saw her smile. Then she rolled him over on his back and knelt down beside him. He was still breathing, and she kissed him on the lips long and deeply. She glanced around to make sure no one was near, and then she carefully and methodically dragged him back out to the edge of the current and shoved him in. She waited to make sure the river had him well and truly in its grasp, and then smiled in satisfaction before returning to the bank herself.

  I wanted to scream and cry and curse, and I could do none of those things. Knowing that my father had died to save another person’s life had been hard enough. Finding out he’d been killed by that same person was ten thousand times worse.

  Layla was sitting on the bank sobbing her heart out by the time the first people came, and I had to listen while she told a moving story about how Daddy had pulled her to shore and saved her life but never made it out behind her. I hated the Garzas at that moment more than I’ve ever hated anybody or anything in my life, and I made a fist so tight it hurt even in my dream. I wished I could hit somebody, or break something, or maybe just weep.

  He was her first, a quiet voice whispered in my mind, and I knew without asking what that meant. He was the first youth she’d drained of his life, and that must have been why she kissed him before tossing him back into the river to drown.

  She liked the taste of him, and that’s why she came after you in Alaska, the voice said.

  The scene on the riverbank had played itself out by then, and in mercy my eyes were shielded from the sight when my father’s body was pulled from the flooded Brazos nearly a mile downstream.

  Why did I have to see this? I cried.

  You had to know. You wouldn’t have understood what you must do, if you had never seen, the voice answered.

  What must I do? I asked, startled at the thought. I’d almost forgotten.

  First, you must forgive her. You must forgive all of them. And then you must give her your Stone, and bring it here to this place, and leave it, the voice said.

  I can’t do that! I cried in horror. It was too much to ask; it was beyond anything I could ever have the strength to do. But the voice was silent, and would not argue.

  She is my daughter also, it said, and that was the last thing I heard. I woke to find tears on my cheeks, and my heart more broken than it had been since that night in Alaska with Lisa. I was developing a real talent for crying lately, I thought to myself.

  It was almost six thirty, and I decided there was no point in staying in bed any longer. I got up quietly, leaving Lisa asleep. Then I went to the living room to sit on the couch and try to pull myself together after what I’d seen and heard. I had no doubt it was a true dream; there was no way I would have imagined anything like that, even in my worst nightmares. I wouldn’t have imagined being spoken to by God, either, for that matter.

  I’m sure that’s who it was, and that part awed and humbled me. The revelation of what had really happened to my father and what I’d been asked to do was no easier, but it was impossible to ignore. Forgiving the Garzas for all the wickedness they’d done was hard enough, but in some ways giving Layla the Guardian Stone was even worse. It seemed to be protecting me the way it was supposed to; at least, I felt no older than I had the day before. But without it I knew I’d quickly grow old, just like James Fitch. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t live long enough to see my next birthday, at the rate I’d been going before I got the crystal back. It seemed like a complete victory for them, a careless tossing away of my whole life, a deliberate taking back of everything I’d promised Lisa and a dashing of every hope. I didn’t know what to do.

  Or, well, yes, I did know what to do, honestly. . . I just didn’t like it and hadn’t choked down my resistance quite yet, that’s all.

  As soon as I recognized the source of my trouble, I recognized the uselessness of it, also. When God asks for something, the only choice you’ve got is whether to refuse or whether to try to obey, and that’s really no choice at all, if you’re a believer. Therefore I’d try to do what He’d asked of me, if I could. I guess that part was never really in doubt, after all. I remember reading once that few things are dearer to God’s heart than a son or daughter who finds themselves forsaken and alone, who can see nothing but heartache as the result of obedience. . . and then obeys anyway. Well, I’d be a good son, and if that required throwing myself on a sharp sword, then so be it.

  I didn’t make the decision gladly, and I didn’t make it without a residue of bitterness and fear which I don’t doubt is a flaw in my nature. I’m not one of the martyrs, who could go into the flames with a smile on my face. Nowhere near.

  I quietly got dressed and headed across the pasture towards the big house, my heart
no more at ease than yesterday. Sometimes the truth is no comfort.

  I made an effort to compose myself by the time I reached the back door, and when I got inside I found Mama and Marcus eating breakfast at the kitchen table. Bran was already gone to school, I suppose; he left pretty early.

  “So, did you find out anything yesterday?” Marcus asked.

  “Not much. But I did have a dream last night. A true one,” I finished. As I expected, that got their full attention.

  “What happened?” Marcus asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “I have to forgive the Garzas, and I have to give Layla the Guardian Stone,” I said wearily. I didn’t mention what I’d found out about Daddy; there was no need to darken Mama’s heart with that news. I didn’t say anything about having to take the Stone to Possum Kingdom, either, for fear she might guess too much.

  “Are you sure that’s what it means?” Mama finally asked.

  “Yeah, I’m definitely sure,” I said.

  Maybe neither one of them knew what to say, because I finally smiled.

  “But, on a more practical note, did y’all save me some food or did you eat it all?” I asked.

  “There’s some left on the stove,” Mama said, and I helped myself. I left enough for Lisa, although there was no telling what time she might get up. She’s a late sleeper sometimes when she gets the chance.

  I ate my breakfast, and then went out to the barn to feed Buck and the other horses, since Marcus still couldn’t do much yet. There weren’t quite as many chores to be done in the wintertime, especially with the cows gone, but the few that there were couldn’t be overlooked. Brandon helped a lot, but he couldn’t do everything.

  “Are you really giving her the Stone?” Marcus asked quietly, walking out to the barn with me.

  “Yeah, I really am,” I nodded.

  “But you know if you do that, you won’t be protected anymore,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, I know,” I agreed.

  “Then why do it?” he asked.

  “Mostly because I was told to. I’m sure there has to be a reason for that, even if I don’t know for sure what it is,” I said.

  “What possible reason could there be?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. But I got to thinking, you know, maybe it’ll stop her from hurting anybody else. She couldn’t drain away people’s life if she can’t be affected by magic, could she? Maybe that’s what Brandon meant about not being afraid to do something that seems insane and turning her greatest weapon against her,” I said.

  “Sounds logical, I guess,” Marcus admitted.

  “So then it’d be worth it, wouldn’t it?” I asked.

  “I reckon you’re the only one who can decide that,” he said, refusing to look at me.

  “Marcus, we’ve been friends for a long time now, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “Then don’t be so down in the mouth. You never know what’ll happen. Things might turn out better than you think,” I said. I was speaking as much for my own benefit as for his, but that didn’t make what I said any less true.

  “I know,” he said.

  “Will you come with me, then?” I asked.

  “Come where? You didn’t say anything about needing to go anywhere,” he said.

  “To Possum Kingdom. I’ve got to put the Stone in the river, where Daddy died,” I said, and for a second Marcus was speechless.

  “Why there, of all places?” he demanded, when he got his voice back.

  “I told you it’s got to be put in a place that means something to both people, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and I know what that place means to you, obviously. But what’s it got to do with her?” he asked.

  “You can’t tell Mama, but she was the girl my father tried to rescue that day when he drowned. She knocked him out with a rock and let him die. He was her first victim, and that was the first place she ever practiced her sorcery. So that’s where it has to end,” I explained.

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said, and I knew what he was talking about without having to ask.

  “It’s all right. He did it because he believed he was saving her. He’s still a hero as far as I’m concerned,” I said staunchly.

  “I only meant. . . well, never mind. Yeah, of course I’ll go. When are you leaving?” Marcus asked.

  “In a little while, when Lisa gets up. There’s no reason to wait,” I said.

  “No reason to wait for what?” Lisa asked, appearing in the archway of the barn.

  “You’re up early, baby,” I said, smiling as I went to give her a kiss.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I walked up to the house and Miss Josie said you were out here. She seemed upset so I wondered what was up,” she explained.

  “Did you eat anything?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I had a biscuit and a piece of sausage. But I’m not worried about that right now. What did I miss?” she asked.

  So I told her, recapping everything I’d already told Marcus, including my reasoning as to why it needed to be done. Then I waited to see what she’d say, because other than me, she was the one person most deeply affected by it all. When I was finished she looked at me solemnly.

  “So what do you think?” I finally asked, when she didn’t speak.

  “I think even if I never loved you before, I would now,” she said, and I laughed a little, embarrassed.

  “Don’t laugh; I was being serious,” she scolded.

  “I know you were. I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It’s okay. But you’re right, there’s no reason to waste any time. Let’s go while it’s still early,” she said.