Raven Stole the Moon (16 page)

Jenna stood up and went to the door. It was pitch-black outside. Oscar clawed at the door and growled at something only he could see. Jenna patted Oscar on the side and pressed her face to the glass, looking for something. But nothing was there.

“What is it, boy?”

Oscar answered with a bark and continued clawing at the door. Jenna opened the door and Oscar scrambled outside, running across the road and disappearing over the seawall to the beach. Jenna stepped out onto the porch and strained her eyes against the darkness. She saw nothing. Heard nothing but the wind. She called out for Oscar, but he didn’t return. She stood on the cold deck and waited.

After a few minutes, Jenna went inside. There was no sign of Oscar. Jenna didn’t want to call for him because that might wake up the neighbors, and she certainly wasn’t going to go out into the night to look for him. She slumped back down on the couch and stared blankly at the TV.

A few minutes later, or was it longer? Did she fall asleep? Jenna heard a growling outside. It sounded far away. Like a couple of animals fighting. But Jenna was only half awake and she couldn’t fight through the haze of her dreams to respond to the sound. It was Oscar. It sounded like he was fighting with another dog. But it was down on the beach, or somewhere in the blackness outside.

Jenna could hear it, but she couldn’t divorce it from her dream. Her dream of a boy and his dog. The dog looked like Oscar. And the boy? Well, the boy looked like Bobby. A boy tussling with his dog. Rolling around on the beach in the sun.
Don’t play too rough, boys. It’s almost time for dinner. Get yourselves cleaned up.
But the boy and the dog were far away. They couldn’t hear Jenna over the sound of the waves crashing against the beach. They wrestled, rolling over and over, closer and closer to the water. Jenna watched from the seawall, the sun sparkling, the wind blowing her hair, her long white dress billowing. Eddie and Gram sitting in the truck, watching. The seawall seeming like a cliff. Now fifty feet above the ocean. Bobby and Oscar rolling closer and closer to the water. Jenna yelling to them.
Boys. Boys. Be careful.
They roll into the waves. They thrash around as the water crashes over them. Jenna stands on the cliff and yells. Eddie and Robert are in the truck, laughing. Gram is in her wheelchair. I’m not going to that place, she tells Jenna. I’m not going. I’m going to Alaska. She wheels away down the street. Wait. Gram, wait. Jenna yells to the boys. They’re under the water. Eddie and Oscar on the beach. Tangled in fishing line. Bobby is sitting on the waves. He’s waving. Mommy, Mommy. Gram is wheeling down the street. I’m not going to that place. Gram, wait till Mom gets home. Mommy, come here. Mommy, the water’s warm. Bobby disappears under the water. The cliff is a hundred feet. Jenna wants to jump. She wants to be with Bobby, but she’s afraid. She can’t see him anymore. Eddie is talking to Gram. Bobby is in the water, wearing a sweater. He’s sinking. He’s calling out. Eddie is kneeling before the wheelchair. Jenna, you have to talk to her. Bobby’s drowning. Jenna, she’s dying, you have to talk to her. I can’t. My boy. He’s not a boy. The old woman stands before Jenna, shouting. She’s black, like a burned log. Let him drown. Let him drown. The sight of the old woman, burned to a crisp, charred to a black stick, frightens Jenna. The old woman grabs her with a black hand. He’s an animal. He’s not a boy. Jenna stumbles backward. She trips on a log. She falls off the edge, into the blackness. She falls into the void, the valley of water, turning around and around, sick from the spinning, coming to save, why didn’t you save, dragging the ocean bottom with little silver hooks, landing softly on the beach, losing consciousness, landing in the blackness of sleep, the sleep of the dead, until morning, until the sun creeps above the glacier and the raven calls out that while we were sleeping the world didn’t end, not this time, maybe next time, but this time, though we died in our sleep, we are alive again, we are awake and we are the same person we were yesterday, and we should be thankful that we live another day on this earth, and we should remember the dead, our dead, who are not with us in body, but are soon to be with us in spirit, until Eddie turns on the light and Jenna rubs her eyes, rubbing away the vision, forgetting the dream forever, the dream that told her what she must do.

E
VERY EVENING AFTER DINNER WAS SERVED AT
T
HUNDER BAY,
Bobby went down to the dock with the other young kids and dropped his fishing line over the side, hoping to catch a fish. Some of the bigger kids had fishing poles and could cast out, away from the dock. Those kids caught a few. But Bobby was still too young for a fishing pole. He had a spool of fishing line with a hook on the end, and he hadn’t caught a fish all week. He constantly pleaded with his parents to get him a real fishing pole when he got bigger so he could finally catch something.

But on the next to last night, Bobby’s luck turned. A bigger kid helped him out by tying a silver lure to his line. He told Bobby that the flickering of the lure would attract the fish. And sure enough, it did. Bobby got a bite and pulled and tugged at the line, trying to reel in the fish, but the fish was strong. The older kid who gave Bobby the lure had to take over. The older kid overpowered the fish and hauled up Bobby’s catch, a giant flounder that was almost as big as Bobby.

The commotion on the dock was huge. Everyone cheering and chattering, all the parents coming down from the community house, Bobby, with a grin from ear to ear, at the center of all the attention. He stood on the dock holding his fish, struggling to keep it up off the wood deck, excitedly telling everyone how he managed to bring it in. Jenna and Robert were so happy for their son. Jenna took a picture of him holding the giant fish. The chef came down and told Bobby he would cook the fish up for his dinner the following night. And as it got darker and the excitement dulled down, the campers heading to their cabins, the fish was sent to the freezer even though Bobby wanted to keep it with him all night. Robert finally picked up Bobby and gave him a piggyback ride up the hill. Bobby was running on fumes, exhausted from a long day but still pumped up from his big event, and as he leaned his head against his father’s back he talked on, his words beginning to slur from fatigue.

“If I had a fishing pole, I could have caught one twice as big.”

“You sure could have,” Robert answered.

“Next year I can have a fishing pole, right, Dad?”

“I think next year you can have one, sure.”

“Hey, Dad, do you want to go fishing with me tomorrow? We can go out in a boat and then I can catch a bigger fish.”

“Sure.”

“We can go out in the boat?”

“Sure.”

By the time they reached their one-room cabin, Bobby was asleep. A limp sack of human being. Robert set him down on his bed and Jenna undressed him and pulled the sheets up. Jenna and Robert went out onto the porch and sat in the darkness under the stars.

“Aren’t you glad we came?” Robert asked.

Jenna nodded.

“Bobby isn’t going to want to leave,” she said.

Robert stretched and yawned. He put his arm around Jenna and kissed her temple.

“Oh, shit,” Robert said, pulling away suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m going hunting tomorrow.”

Robert had signed up for the hunting expedition. Adults only, big guns, going after big game. He had been looking forward to it all week.

“What about Bobby?” Jenna asked. “You told him you would take him fishing.”

“I really wanted to go hunting.”

“He’ll be heartbroken if you don’t take him.”

“Damn.” Robert stood up and walked to the edge of the street.

He looked back at Jenna, hoping to find a solution. He wanted her to release him from his obligation, but she refused.

“You know, I bet I can go hunting and be back early enough to take Bobby out,” Robert said. “The best time for fish is the evening, anyway.”

Jenna grimaced, but Robert must not have seen it. She knew that his plan was a recipe for trouble. And she knew that she was going to be the one who had to take the brunt of Bobby’s disappointment.

“You don’t approve,” Robert ventured.

“Well, I know he’s not going to be happy spending the day with me, that’s all. I’m not an outdoors man. I’m not a guy.”

“But, Jenna, I know it will work out. If it starts getting late, I’ll leave the group and head back on my own. Please? I really want to go hunting.”

“What do you need my permission for?”

“Because if you’re mad at me, I won’t go. But if you say it’s okay, I will.”

“Do what you want to do. He’s your son and you promised to take him fishing. If you can do both . . .”

“I can do both, I promise.”

And that was the end of it. When Jenna woke up in the morning, Robert was already gone.

A
S
J
ENNA HAD SUSPECTED
, Bobby didn’t take it well. He was up early and ready to go, and he was devastated that his father had left without him. Jenna could see the tears forming in his eyes and the effort he had to put into holding them back. So Jenna spent the entire morning trying to offer alternatives. He could go on a beach walk with her, or he could go off with his friends, or he could help the cook peel potatoes, an activity that for some reason Bobby had found enjoyable earlier in the week. But nothing would do. Bobby wanted to stay in the cabin all day and wait for his dad. He didn’t want to stray too far away for fear that Robert would come back and Bobby wouldn’t be ready.

Finally, after endless games of checkers, Bobby’s boredom got the better of him. At about three o’clock he heard the voices of other kids from the beach and he asked his mom if he could go check it out. Jenna was so relieved she couldn’t say yes fast enough. And Bobby was off to play with the other kids.

But at five he was back, wondering where Dad was. And this time he couldn’t hold back the tears. He cried and cried. How unfair the world is sometimes. It hurt Jenna to see her little boy cry. He just wanted to go out in a little boat. There was a little rowboat tied to the dock that anybody was welcome to use. That’s all, a little ride out into the bay. And Jenna decided she would do it. As much as she feared the wilderness, she thought she could overcome her fears for her boy. Besides, she was irritated with Robert for ditching Bobby and she didn’t think Bobby should have to pay for Robert’s being a selfish idiot.

So they took Bobby’s line and went down to the dock. Jenna and Bobby put on their life jackets, vests made of foam like the kind water-skiers use. There were no kids’ sizes, so Bobby basically floated around inside his, but Jenna figured it would be okay. She fit the oarlocks in place and untied the boat and, with a few strokes, started them out into the bay. Before she knew it, they were out in the middle and Bobby was smiling again. That’s what Jenna needed, to see her son smile. He lowered his fishing line over the side.

“I bet we’ll get a big one now,” he said, excitedly.

They floated around in the bay for a while, trolling for fish, not saying a word. Bobby enforced the code of silence that he had heard existed among fishermen. It was quite peaceful out on the water. The tapping of the waves on the side of the boat. The silence of the town that loomed over the bay. Jenna relaxed and realized that she had actually enjoyed most of the trip. She wasn’t sure about coming back in the future, but the past week hadn’t been so bad.

After about a half hour on the water, Jenna got a little concerned. She didn’t want to get too far away from the shore because she was far from being an expert oarsman, but the little boat kept getting farther and farther out. It was the tide, Jenna realized. The tide was going out and it was carrying their boat out with it. They approached the mouth of the bay. Soon they would be beyond the protection of the point and into the rougher waters. Jenna really didn’t want to go out that far, and she was getting very nervous. So she pulled hard at the oars, but with her increased effort, she realized that one of the oarlocks was broken and the oar kept popping out of its latch with every stroke.

“Bobby, I need you to help me,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, trying to hide her anxiety from Bobby.

She wanted Bobby to hold the oar in place while she got them back to the shore. But Bobby’s attention was over the side, on the fish deep below.

“Bobby!” Jenna said sternly. But he just wanted to go fishing. And, as kids do, he hurled himself around to give his mother his reluctant attention, and as he did that, he dropped his fishing line over the side of the boat.

Little kids are so quick, they’re really too quick for their own good. Their reflexes act so fast they have little ability to consider the dangers of their actions. Bobby leaned over the side for the fishing line that floated beyond his reach, and in the split second it took for him to realize that it was his oversized life jacket that kept him from reaching the line, he slipped out of the vest and lunged again for the fishing line. This time his momentum carried him overboard.

Now he was in the cold water and he knew he was in trouble. He looked at his mother, frightened of the next step. Jenna cried out for him and reached out her hand, but he couldn’t grab it. He was wearing an Irish wool sweater, a heavy one; he had looked so cute in it. With his jeans and waffle stompers and big sweater, he looked like a little angel. But now that angel’s costume was like a lead anchor. He disappeared under the water, Jenna holding out her hand in a vain attempt to grab him.

Jenna yelled to shore for help. There was someone there, on the dock. But they would come too late. She had to go in after Bobby.

But she couldn’t do it. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t move. The more she tried to stand up in the boat, the more she struggled against the phantom force that held her in place, the stronger it became. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her throat burned so that she didn’t know if she was screaming or merely mouthing her screams. Within her lifeless body she thrashed about, she flung herself around the boat; she threw herself over the side. But it wasn’t so. She could see herself. She knew. She hadn’t moved an inch. None of her muscles had responded to her commands. And then she saw Bobby appear fifteen feet from the boat, his head on the surface, mouth open, nostrils just above the waves, coughing and choking on the water, calling out for his mother. But Jenna was trapped in her own immobile body and powerless to help him.

Then, with one last effort, with all of her might, Jenna threw off the force that held her in her seat. She was free. She stripped off her life jacket and hurled herself over the side of the boat, reaching down into the water for Bobby. She took a breath and dove down, but the water was thick and dark and revealed nothing to her of her son. She returned to the surface and took another breath and back down she went; eyes burning from the cold salt water, she was blind, thrashing, trying to go deeper, and then back up for air. Something grabbed her at the surface. She fought against it. Go back down, she said, she had to go back down, but it was strong, a man, two men, who hauled her onto a boat as she fought to get free. She needed to dive in after Bobby, why won’t they let her dive in?

“My boy,” she cried to them.

“Stay here, we’ll go,” one of them said.

And the two men took turns diving into the darkness only to reappear with nothing but shaking heads. Jenna stood looking over the side, shivering, freezing in the cold air, waiting for the men to bring something to the surface, something that meant something, a boy; they could breathe into his mouth until he coughed himself back to life and this would only be a close call, a near miss. But each time they dove down and came up twenty, thirty seconds later, with nothing, surfacing for air like little whales, grabbing another breath and then back down, shaking their heads at Jenna as she watched from the boat, over and over again, as people gathered on the shore to watch, over and over again, until they were exhausted and feared for their own lives, that they would go down into the dark water and never return to the surface, but they kept going because each time they reached the surface they saw Jenna’s face and as long as they could see her face they knew they couldn’t stop trying.

Then other boats came. They took Jenna to shore because she couldn’t be any help out on the water. They dressed her in warm clothes and sat her before the fire and told her everything would be all right. Robert came back from hunting and they took him to her and then they were together, husband and wife, and he sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She collapsed into him and cried. And Robert, still not knowing exactly what had happened, held her in an odd and uncomfortable way, as if he didn’t really know her.

T
RAGEDY BRINGS OUT
the best in people. Why is that? It must be because people are secretly thankful that the tragic incident didn’t happen to them, and to protect against becoming victims themselves, they pitch in to help others less fortunate.

Twenty or so locals from the town nearby came to drag the bay. They had what looked like fishing hooks, but bigger, with three prongs each, that they dropped over the sides of their boats and trolled behind them. The hooks would hopefully snag on a part of Bobby’s body and let them pull him up from the bottom. How horrible that Bobby was now the fish everyone wanted to catch.

The dragging went on into the night and for the entire next day. The local sheriff whispered pessimistic things into Robert’s ear. Things about the dangerous tides and the shifting sands. Things about the likelihood of finding a body in this deep bay. All of this was kept from Jenna, who sat wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire in the community house.

At the end of the second day of searching, the officials decided to call it off. Reports were filed. Accidental drowning, body not recovered. Quick and painless, they all said. Let’s not drag this out. The mother is distraught and it would be best to put it behind us. Put it behind us.

A man with a seaplane, his name was Ferguson, took Jenna and Robert to Ketchikan, where a 727 took them to Seattle and a car took them home.

They stepped into their house and snapped on the lights. Nothing was different, but everything had changed. Something had happened. Something terrible. And everything had changed.

“We have to put it behind us,” Robert said, standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Jenna lay on their bed, studying the paint on the ceiling. “I mean, it’ll take some time. But we have to try to put it behind us and move on,” he said.