Still Waters (16 page)

“Why were you accusing me of lying?” Hannah hurried after him, stumbling on the loose, smooth rocks that littered the dank
sand of the beach. “I thought you liked eggs.” She reached for his hand but he was already mounting the steps.

He turned around on the top step. His blue eyes perfectly matched the blue of the sky above him. “Han, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face creased with concern. He reached out and touched her cheek. “You look tired.”

“What—,” Hannah spluttered, but just then her cell rang inside the house. She threw Colin one last despairing look and pushed past him into the living room.

It was her mom. Hannah grabbed the phone, her mind buzzing, trying to mentally prepare herself for the conversation ahead. She took a deep breath, steadied her hands and reminded herself that she’d been working at a job with Laurie this whole time—working very hard. She flipped open the phone.

“Hi, Mom.” Her voice sounded surprisingly steady.

“Do you realize I’ve been trying you since last night?” Her mother’s voice shrilled in her ear. “The call wouldn’t go through.”

Colin was crashing around in the kitchen now. Hannah cupped a hand over the phone and moved down the hall toward the bedrooms. “I’m sorry, Mom. You shouldn’t worry. I told you the cell reception is really spotty here.” There was a pause. Hannah could hear people talking faintly in the background, punctuated by the occasional ring of a cash register. “Are you at work?”

“Yes. Denise called in, so I’m covering for her.” Her mother took a drink of something, probably her coffee.

“Oh, Mom, a double shift?” Hannah sank down on the edge
of the unmade bed. A ball of guilt sank into the pit of her stomach. “Who’s taking care of David?”

Her mother sighed. “Mrs. Robinson again. I told her I’d pay her extra since I’m not going to be back until so late.”

“Mom, I’m really sorry….” Hannah paused, twirling the sheet around her finger.

“For what?” Her mother was walking now. “You’re working hard, making triple time—that’s such a help, Han.”

Hannah swallowed. “Yeah,” she whispered.

“So how’s it going up there? Laurie’s dad’s not working you too hard, is he?”

Before Hannah could answer, there was a flurry of voices in the background. Hannah’s mom came back on the line. “I’ve got to go, baby. They want me at the register. Be good, work hard, okay?” She made a kissing noise into the phone.

“Okay.” Hannah kissed back, and then her mom was gone.

Slowly, she flipped the phone closed. Out in the kitchen, Colin was still banging pots around and singing snatches of “Country Road,” by John Denver.

She stood up and for lack of anything better to do, flipped the blankets back to make the bed. The top sheet pulled out from where it had been tucked under the mattress and several sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. Hannah stared at them a moment, then picked them up. They were the papers Colin had been looking at in the night. One was a newspaper clipping. “Franz’s Garden Store,” read a full-page ad on one side. “Zinnias, all shapes, all colors.” Hannah flipped the clipping over.

“Breakfast!” Colin’s footsteps came down the hall. Hannah gasped and shoved the papers under the mattress again, standing up just as her boyfriend appeared in the doorway, holding a saucepan of something. “Breakfast,” he said again, holding the pan out like an offering. “I made oatmeal. Your favorite.”

Hannah stared at him. “Right,” she said slowly and followed him back down the hall.

They ate quickly, in silence, hunched over their bowls. Colin shoveled the last bite of oatmeal into his mouth and laid down his spoon. He smiled at her and Hannah smiled back, her heart suddenly rising.

“You want to go swimming?” he asked.

Hannah blinked. “Um, I thought you weren’t really into it. Remember you told me about that yesterday?”

He just gazed over her shoulder. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, as if she’d given a different response entirely. He rose from his chair and brushed past her. Hannah remained frozen at the table. At the back door, Colin paused, seeming to realize she wasn’t following him, and turned around slowly.

Hannah’s heart gave a single huge thud. His eyes were clouded again, dreamy, as they’d been last night. Christ, was he sleepwalking
now
? No, that’s impossible. He was awake—he
is
awake. Hannah licked her lips, which suddenly seemed very dry.

“Come on,” Colin said deliberately. He pushed out the door.

Hannah tiptoed across the floor and watched as he crossed the sand to the edge of the water. She expected him to strip down
and plunge into the water, but instead, he gazed out across the lake to the edge of the woods where they had emerged from the church the other day.

Then he turned sharply to his right and walked a few feet over to the rowboat slung drunkenly among the reeds. He stood perfectly still staring at the rowboat for a long time. Then he returned to his spot by the water, pulling his shirt over his head. Hannah gripped the windowsill with both hands. Oh my God, was he going crazy? Was he on drugs or something? No, no way. Colin would never do something like that. And he wasn’t acting drunk, not at all. Maybe she could slip back inside, hide out in one of the bedrooms, just until he got over whatever this was. And the minute they got back home, she’d make him see a doctor.

But before she could move, Colin called out, “Come on, babe,” without turning around.

Slowly, Hannah pushed open the screen and went down the steps to the lake’s edge. Colin turned as she reached his side. He smiled at her, his own smile. It was gentle and open. Hannah felt herself relax. Okay. So he was having some trouble, and he was definitely acting strange. But he was still her own Colin. She needed to remember that.

Hannah stripped down to her underwear, and Colin took her hand and started walking into the water, still wearing his shorts. He didn’t seem nervous at all now. Instead, he walked stolidly forward, towing her by the hand like a package, until the water was chest high. Then he released her and began swimming
around in a circle, his hair dark with water and shiny as a seal’s.

Hannah watched him carefully. His face was expressionless. She debated whether to ask him again if he was okay, or maybe if he was taking something. But no. Better not upset him. Just wait for now.

Hannah stared down into the thick green murk. Her arms disappeared at the elbow when she sliced through the water, as if she were amputating them over and over. She thought of her dream—of what it would be like to dive deep down into that darkness, into the weeds and mud at the bottom.

As she came nearer, Colin suddenly turned and in one movement, scooped her into his arms. “This is fun, isn’t it?” His skin was chilly and covered with goose bumps. He looked pale and the shape of his face was strange with his hair plastered to his forehead. In the slanting sunlight, it looked brown instead of blond and his eyes looked dark too. Almost like he was a different person.

“Yeah, fun,” she managed to say. Gently, she tried to extricate herself from his grasp, but his arms tightened like two steel bands around her.

“I always love it when we swim together,” he said, still in that husky voice. His arms slipped from her shoulders down to her waist as he pulled her in closer to him.

Hannah gasped a little. “You’re squeezing me hard,” she said, struggling. She forced a little laugh. “And, we only swam together the one time—yesterday, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Colin said. His voice was distant. He dropped
his head to her shoulders and let his cold lips trail along her collarbone. “I remember perfectly.”

Hannah shivered at the touch in spite of herself. She didn’t believe him.

She was running through the woods again, clutching Colin’s camera, panting, hair streaming. The sky was black with twisting clouds, and the tree trunks flashing in front of her had grown to freakish proportions, creaking, leaning onto the path, reaching out to snag her as she stumbled past, her breath sobbing in and out of her throat. Behind her, someone was coming. Footsteps were pounding on the dirt path. The terror rose up in her throat, choking her. Whoever it was, he was coming for her.

Hannah shook her head and blinked hard, trying to focus again on the black print that swam in front of her vision. She rubbed her forehead. After swimming, Colin had lain down on the living room couch and immediately fallen asleep, and she’d wandered out to the porch with a stack of old magazines to think things over quietly. But her mind kept wandering to places she’d really rather not go.

The day had turned gray and humid, the air hanging like a
wet rag, sullen and heavy with the dank smell of the lake mud. The windows of the house were silver with moisture. Hannah looked down at the pages of
Quilting Today
magazine in her lap. Something was wrong with Colin, and she didn’t know what to do. They had to just go home. Today, she resolved, staring at the magazine page. “Bird-in-the-Window patterns are perfect for the beginner!” the headline chortled. The screen door slammed behind her, and Hannah stiffened.

“Hi.”

She twisted around. He was smiling, a coffee cup in his hand. His hair was tousled charmingly. He looked like her old Colin again.

Relief flooded Hannah’s heart. She had to restrain herself from leaping off the step and hugging him. “Hi,” she managed tremulously.

He came over and dropped a kiss on top of her head, then set his coffee cup down on one of the porch posts. “Nice day.” He looked around appreciatively, inhaling. Sullen thunder rumbled in the far distance.

“Um, yeah,” Hannah tentatively agreed. “It’s getting kind of hot.”

“I love that breeze through the pines,” Colin replied. He went over to the shed where they’d extracted the bikes and opened the door.

Hannah looked around at the still trees and utterly flat lake. Even the leaves on the oaks hung limp.

Colin returned from the shed lugging a heavy wooden toolbox.
He walked purposefully over to the truck, which sat at the corner of the overgrown yard, and reaching inside, popped the hood.

“What’re you doing?” Hannah asked.

He propped the hood open and poked his head inside. “Got to take care of that clanking noise,” he said, his voice partially muffled by the hood. He bent down and selected a wrench.

Hannah blinked and laid her magazine to one side. “What clanking noise?” she called across the yard. “I don’t remember it clanking.”

Colin stuck the wrench into the engine and twisted something. He didn’t even look up. “The engine’s about to go, believe me. I heard it the other day.” He dropped the wrench and picked up a pair of pliers. “Damn, this relay is on tight.” He gripped the pliers more tightly and jammed them into the engine hard. Hannah winced. She laid her magazine aside and crossed the yard.

Colin was tugging on something deep in the engine. “Little fucker is completely stuck,” he growled. Hannah had never heard him say “little fucker” in her entire life. She took a deep breath.
This is your boyfriend who loves you,
she reminded herself.
He’s just having some problems. Talk to him—just tell him what’s on your mind.

“Colin, listen,” she said. He didn’t look up. He was gripping a gray boxy thing with the pliers, yanking at it. “Um, maybe we should think about heading out.” She gripped the edge of the truck hood. The metal was hot, almost scorching the pads of her fingers.

Colin looked up. His hair tumbled over his forehead, and
there was a smear of grease on his cheek. “What’re you talking about? Are you leaving me?” His forehead creased with distress.

Hannah shook her head, squeezing the hood tighter. “No, no, Colin. Listen … I, um, I think it’s time to go. I mean, we’ve had a really good time here, but my mom’s probably wondering how much longer this job with Laurie is going to last. And …” She took a deep breath. “Things have seemed weird since last night. I’m kind of worried.” She looked up at last into his face, not sure what she would find there.

Colin stared at her, the wrench still clenched in one hand. “Sure, babe, we can leave whenever you want,” he said. “We can leave tomorrow morning—how’s that? Run away and never come back?” He grinned at her.

“Yeah …” Hannah said slowly. “Tomorrow morning’s great.” Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He’d agreed to leave after all. That was good.

Colin nodded in an abstracted way and turned back to the engine. He pulled harder. “Ah! Got it. We’ll be all right now.” He grinned at her.

Hannah watched him for a second longer, then trailed back across the yard and into the house. In the kitchen, she sank down at the old wooden table and rested her head on her hands. She’d done it, she thought, staring between her elbows. She’d said what she was worried about and he’d agreed they could leave tomorrow.

Hannah traced a circle on the table with one finger. This was supposed to be their big trip, and it hadn’t turned out at all like she thought. She pictured the branch still stuck in the
other room. The stagnant, silent lake. Colin outside, poking at the truck with his wrench. Everything had gone wrong since last night, and now they were going to go off and leave—the end of their trip just fizzling out.

What if she did something about it though? Hannah sat up and then pushed her chair back. What if they had a picnic tonight, out on the beach? Maybe a special occasion would snap him out of his daze.

Hannah jumped up and began pulling open all the cabinets and drawers. There wasn’t much food left—some cherries, three peaches, a handful of the blueberries from earlier. A jar of olives. Some almonds in a bag they’d brought in from the truck. There was a quarter loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese. Not much, but if she put it all in little bowls, it would seem like a picnic. They could spread out a blanket, watch the sun set, feed each other olives, say their last good-byes to Pine House. Hannah could feel her spirits slowly rising. Maybe they could salvage the end of the trip. Maybe Colin would snap out of his daze. Maybe whatever had been carried in on that storm would float away on the evening breeze and things could just go back to the way they were before.