Thin Ice (7 page)

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Authors: Marsha Qualey

Tags: #Young Adult

BOOK: Thin Ice
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My smile passed fast. Scott was why I’d been sleeping here, and Scott was gone. For a moment I’d forgotten.

Three men sat at the bar. When they heard me stir, they turned around to look, glanced at each other, then put on their hats and rose to leave.

Buck appeared with fresh cocoa. “Deputy wants to talk with you. She’s outside. I’ll get her.”

I wanted him to take his time. Had to be bad news; anything else, they wouldn’t have let me sleep.

I got up and walked to the window. People were tossing things into trucks, two men were shaking hands, a woman was on her knees stroking the dog. Deputy Kay was talking with a state trooper. She turned, spotted me in the window, and started walking.

The ends of a bright-green rope swung from her hand. A green rope with metal teeth. My brother’s ice claws. Something clawed at my throat. I met her at the door and reached for the rope. “That’s his,” I said. “Where did you find it?”

Al was right behind her and he took my arm. “Let’s sit down.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Someone was patrolling the riverbanks and spotted this just beyond the bridge channel. We blew up the inflatable walkway and recovered it. One end was secured in ice at the edge of open water. Can you identify this as your brother’s?”

“I told you already, yes, it was his. It was new. He was showing it to me this morning. I mean Sunday morning. I teased him, I warned him it would be like a baby’s mitten string if he wore it through his jacket. He got pissed and said he wouldn’t wear it.”

“Arden, I’ve called in the air and ground searchers.”

“Why?”

“We did some dragging from the walkway and recovered a helmet and saddlebag. His wallet and a few other things were in it.”

“He could have gotten out of the water. You said the claw was secured in ice. He must have pulled himself out. He could be walking in the woods. People get disoriented. You can’t stop looking for him.”

“We haven’t stopped, but it’s been two days, Arden, and now we have proof he was wet. Even if he got out of the water, he’s had two nights of subzero temperatures.”

Say it, Deputy. Say it, say it, say it “You think he’s dead?”

Al sat down in a booth and put his head in his hands.

“We’re focusing on the river now. I’ve called for divers.”

Say the bad words, Deputy. I can. “Now you’re looking for a body.” She dropped the rope on a table. Melting ice slid off the wood handle. “Please let someone take you home.”

Al rose and zipped his jacket. “C’mon, Arden. I’ll drive.”

“No.”

Deputy Kay exhaled impatiently. “You don’t want to see what they’re going to find, Arden; a drowned body is a nightmare.”

“I have to,” I said. “Otherwise I’ll imagine far worse.”

“No,” Al whispered. “There is nothing worse.”

He took me to the Drummonds’, where Mrs. D. was waiting at the door. Kady and Jean had stayed home from school and they hovered silently behind her. She stepped forward to hug me, but I turned aside and laid my coat on a chair, deflecting her gesture. “They haven’t found him yet,” I said, “but they’re pretty sure they know where he is. Jean, okay if I go lie down in your room?”

Al and Mrs. D. looked at each other. Obviously they had anticipated tears or some sort of grieving fit.

I sat at Jean’s desk and sketched on the back of old school papers. Drew trees. A river. I played mental games and concocted scenarios. I tried to figure ways he could be alive. Even after getting wet. Even after two nights.

Two nights.
I pounded the desk and a pile of small rubber balls bounced and scattered. Why hadn’t I wondered where he was? Why hadn’t his stupid girlfriend kept calling so she could yell at him for not showing up?

She had, of course. I remembered the phone ringing persistently while I was in the bath that night, then again when I was reading. Why hadn’t he left the machine on? Why hadn’t I turned it on? She’d have left a message, I would have listened to it, I would have worried. We could have found him.

I heard the phone ringing and was in the kitchen by the third ring. Kady started to say something but I waved her off. Al was taking the message, nodding grimly, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“What?” I asked as soon as he’d hung up.

“A diver found his sled in the water, downriver a bit from where they found the rope.”

“Did they find Scott?”

He shook his head. “The deputy sheriff has called off the search. The sled was in a deep spot with strong current, north of the bridge.” Al closed his eyes. “It never freezes solidly by that bridge, no matter how cold. The water is channeled too narrowly, the current is too strong.” He looked at me. “On Saturday Scotty and I took some runs over open patches on Minnow Lake. He was blowing over them like a circuit pro. But a river is different. The rim ice is weaker. It can look safe, but it never is. He didn’t know.”

“They called off the search? They’re going to leave him there?” I was standing inches away from him, looking straight up at his distress.

“She can’t keep divers in that water.”

“Just
leave
him in the river?”

He looked around, he couldn’t look right at me. “Arden, they can’t do a systematic search. Not in that cold water. Not in that spot. She can’t risk divers for a body retrieval. The river is too dangerous.”

I pounded on his chest. He bit his lip and swayed, taking it. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” I shouted.

My anger charged Mrs. Drummond into action. She held out a hand and murmured something to ease me. Al was near tears. Kady and Jean both stepped toward me.

I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”

They all froze.

“Don’t try to help me.”

Mrs. Drummond crossed her arms. Al’s tears slid out.

“Just everybody go away.”

CHAPTER 19

Within hours the entire population of Penokee kicked into funeral mode, and for over a week people, food, and flowers poured into the Drummonds house. I stayed holed up in Jean’s room, coming out whenever a new visitor was announced and retreating as soon as I could. Everybody was nice, maybe too nice. I shook hands and shook heads with parents of friends, teachers, Scott’s coworkers, neighbors, and classmates. Jace Dailey, the first guy I ever kissed, drove all the way from the town in Minnesota where his family had moved after freshman year, and I kissed him again.

Jace didn’t know what to say, which was a pretty honest reaction. I welcomed it, as I’d gotten really tired of the people who rushed toward me with soothing words and murmurs of comforting nonsense. Not Jace. After the kiss we looked at each other, then glanced around at all the people looking at us. Then he spoke: “It’s pretty shitty,” he said in a low voice.

Had to laugh at that. And agree. “Yeah.”

Jace stuffed his hands in his jeans. “I remember once when I walked you home from a party at Dawn’s… Hey, she moved away, didn’t she? That’s what I heard.”

“St Paul.”

“She like it?”

“No one hears from her.”

“Too bad, she was fun. Anyway, I’d walked home with you that time and I swear within a minute he was out the door and ready to talk. I had my new bike and he wanted to talk about trail riding and stuff. Couldn’t believe it. Just like that—bang! Big brother jumps in, making sure nothing happens. He really watched over you, didn’t he?”

That did it. Sweet old Jace with the memory of Scott preempting his make-out moves did it. Tears I’d been sucking back for days let loose.

“Geez, Arden,” Jace said. “I’m sorry. Man, how stupid, I’m always saying the wrong thing. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I was in town seeing my grandma and I heard about it and I felt awful. I’m sorry.”

I stood there dumbly, soaking my face while he looked about for help. People started pushing tissues at me. Kady appeared and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go to my room.”

I jerked my arm away. “Why? This is what everyone came for, isn’t it? To look at the grieving survivor?”

My nose was running at the same pace as my tears and I wiped with a sleeve. Damn, it was my new red wool sweater, dry clean only.

Time of crisis, funny what you think of.

* * *

My fit worked. The extra people left, except for Jace. When I finally sobered up, my face was a mess, something Jean and Jace were happy to point out

“Kind of splotchy,” Jace said.

“Pretty swollen,” Jean added.

“Get lost,” I said, and sat down between them on the davenport.

“When’s the funeral?” Jace asked.

Beat, beat, beat—you could almost hear the hearts speed up in the room.

“That,” Kady said tersely, “is the second bonehead thing you’ve said today.”

Jace looked confused; the effect was sweet.

“No funeral,” I said. “No body, no funeral.”

Mrs. Drummond sat down, and a dish towel dropped to her lap. “Oh, Arden, people will want something. A memorial service. It’s good to say good-bye. And perhaps we could write up something for the paper.”

“You mean an obituary. No. Then I’d just have to do it again when they do find him.”

Kady and Mrs. Drummond looked at each other, then rose from their chairs and went to the kitchen.

“I think that’s smart,” said Jean. “Why torture yourself twice?” She stood up and dusted crumbs off her lap onto the floor. “Gotta go study. Physics test tomorrow.”

Jace rose. “Me too, I mean, I’ve gotta go too, and pick up my mom at my grandma’s, then we’ve got a ways home.”

A lot of people had done a lot of nice things for me in the past few days. But his visit after three years away was maybe the nicest. Time for the third kiss?

He thought so. Then, “I’ll call,” he said.

“Good,” I answered.

Jean didn’t go study until we heard Jace’s car drive away. She crossed her arms and tried to be stern. “Of all the stupid things you have done since I’ve known you, this may be tops.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hitching yourself to a guy who lives hours away.”

“I haven’t hitched myself to anyone. Don’t be silly. He was just making a condolence call.”

She smirked. “And I’d say you looked pretty condoled, especially when he had his mouth on yours.”

I started to protest, then stopped. It had felt good.

Mrs. Drummond called from the kitchen, “Veggie burgers or spaghetti?” Kady chimed in, “Vote now or no complaining later!” Jean tipped her head and lowered her voice. “Isn’t life with the two happy homemakers driving you crazy?”

“It’s not that bad, and it is nice to have someone else taking care of things. They do kind of flutter around, but I mostly ignore it.”

She nodded, “Me too, but it took me eighteen years to learn how. You might find it tougher to ignore them once you’ve moved in for good and things are settled.”

“What?”

Her mouth opened and closed twice, a popping circle of pink. “That’s what everyone’s been saying. My parents were picked as guardians years ago. Scott did that. You’re supposed to live with us.”

“No, I won’t.”

Kady and her mother had come to the kitchen door and were listening.

Jean held up a hand. “I know you knew. We used to joke about it.”

“Joke, yes. I’m not staying.” I turned to Mrs. D. “I can’t live here, not forever.”

Mrs. Drummond fluttered her hand. “We’ll have to talk, Arden. Maybe not tonight, but there are things to go over.”

“We don’t have to talk. There’s no argument. I can’t leave my house, my workshop. I have a home.”

Kady leaned a hip against the doorjamb. “You won’t want to be alone. That’s crazy. You can’t.”

“I do want to be alone and I want to be alone now. I’m leaving.” Coat, boots, things from the bathroom. I had an armload of belongings and didn’t bother to close the door behind me. I trudged through the snow, head down against the wind, orphan in a storm.

CHAPTER 20

It was good to have my own bed, own bathroom, own mess. For the first time in days I felt like I could think straight, felt like eating, felt like laughing at Letterman’s jokes.

Too bad I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept much at all since my nap in the bar, the day of the search. I was tired enough, but there was an impediment: vivid and vicious nightmares. They’d begun the first night after the searchers found the sled. The dreams were all the same. Fish and my brother. It had reached the point where I couldn’t even close my eyes in daytime without seeing the same underwater scene: Scott undulating like seaweed while fish poked and prodded him. Big ones, little ones, nipping, biting. I usually woke up when the biggest fish turned around in my mind-screen and swam toward me, mouth gasping, gills pulsing, soulless dead eyes pinpointed on my fear.

The worst night I had was that first one back in my own house, though I’d never tell Mrs. D. That was the night I stayed asleep long enough to see the fish nibble him down to a rack of bones that rolled off one by one in the current. Knowing what was in store, I preferred not to sleep. So when I opened my door to company a few days after leaving the Drummonds’, I looked awful and felt worse. Of course, it wasn’t a social call, which didn’t help my mood.

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