Chapter 8: Travelling Riverside Blues

Part II: The Tidal Siren

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

- J.M.

It’s funny how the smallest thing can make such a big difference in your outlook on life. When you least expect it, in a most unlikely way, and in the oddest of places, something appears that turns your view of the world inside out. Sometimes it can show you what really is important, dragging things out from some subconscious cave where they had retreated to hide, seemingly forever. Usually, it happens right when you need it most, as long as you pay attention.

The car ride up to the campground on Friday afternoon was quiet, as expected. Despite having to sit next to Lara for the duration, it was surprisingly tolerable. We each relied on our Walkman headphones to maintain the invisible wall between us and pass the hours.

When we arrived at the campsite, my parents’ friends, Jamie and Reese, were already setting up their camper. After greetings went around, I helped unload our gear, keeping quiet and to myself. My moms were amiably catching up on life with their old friends, so it was easy to while away the time with tent poles and tarp ropes.

I took a walk to the Ausable River that ran past the campground. Seeing the water flitting over rocks and a deep pool full of trout brought back some real emotions. For once, I didn’t try to suppress them. I hadn’t fished in a long while. Since Montauk almost one year ago, I suddenly realized with surprise. Autumn in the Catskills was prime fly-fishing time. In previous years, several fishing trips in the season were normal. Somehow, I hadn’t managed to go even once in the past year.

I was busy writing Julie in the fall, I thought with a pang of sadness. It seemed like such a long time ago. I wasn’t even the same person anymore. The naïve hope of keeping up my relationship with her over the long months seemed so silly now. I’d wasted the entirety of my first year of high school fawning after, worrying about, and finally regretting my involvement with Julie. I’d thrown away time I could have spent wading in mountain streams angling for fish, to say nothing of everything else I’d missed out on or screwed up.

I took a deep breath, finding the moist scent of the river strangely invigorating. It was as if I hadn’t smelled a single aroma in months. All around me, birds announced their availability, calling out over the buzzing background of insects. A flotilla of water-skimmers played Ring-around-the-Rosie in a nearby eddy. It looked like fun, so I took my shoes off and stepped into the river to join them. The water was cold, still carrying to the last echoes of snowmelt. Chilly, yes, and yet thawing decidedly toward summer.

Lara and I were sleeping in the same tent. It wasn’t an arrangement either of us liked, but that’s the way it was. Lara said she would rather sleep in the car, but my parents threatened to lock her out of it. I guess they hoped that sticking us together might create some communication between us. I thought it was unlikely, and as we lay in our sleeping bags that first night, Lara was as distant as ever. Oddly, I felt like reaching out to her again. But when I mentioned how cool the river looked, she just grunted in reply. I doubted that she would want to speak to me this weekend, so I didn’t press her further.

I spent the next day fishing and reading. Around four, I grabbed my tackle and headed up the road to a section of the river where the water crossed under a bridge. I was tying on a spinner when I heard car tires crushing the gravel of the shoulder. Hopefully it wasn’t competition for my fishing spot.

“Afternoon, son!”

I turned around to find a wildlife officer approaching me. He sported a set of reflective hunting glasses, so his attitude was unreadable.

“Good afternoon,” I greeted. I went back to tying the knot I was working on.

The man surveyed the area, perhaps wishing he was angling instead of on duty. “Any luck yet?”

“No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Haven’t even cast in.”

“This is a good hole, I tell you,” he said, gesturing with his head.

“Hope so.”

“There’s a bit of a deep spot at the tail end of those riffles there,” he said, indicating. “Sometimes there’s a nice trout waiting in there.”

“Thanks, I’ll give it a shot.”

“No problem. Can I see your fishing license?” he asked. “Just a routine check, you know,” he added casually.

Fishing license? Oops! I’d completely forgotten to buy one that morning. “Um, yeah, let me look,” I said evenly.

I wasn’t too worried; he’d probably give me a warning and let me off, since I was just a teenager. All I had to do was pretend I didn’t know any better and act stupid. I started opening the different compartments of my tackle box and made a show of searching, despite knowing there was nothing to find. When I flipped open the top flap of the box, he called out with satisfaction.

“There it is!”

Indeed, there was a license there! For a second I wondered if I’d bought one earlier in the season and somehow forgotten about it. But no, this one was partly crumpled up, clearly something old. Last year’s license and now invalid, I realized as I uncrinkled the paper. The stamp on the front said ‘1989’ in a large font. There was no way to pass it off as this year’s.

Memories suddenly flooded through me. I remembered stuffing the license into that part of the tackle box on the day that extraordinarily fascinating girl had returned it to me. The same day she’d walked away. The very last day I saw her.

The pier girl...

“Can I take a look at it?” the ranger asked, perhaps a bit impatiently.

I realized I was still clutching the paper in my hand. Act dumb!

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I held up the license, remaining seated and staring at the ground as he scrutinized it. A warm feeling was coursing through my body as I remembered those summer days catching fish with the pier girl. Well, mostly she caught the fish while I acted foolishly. I could almost sense her presence again, something forgotten and yet timelessly familiar.

“Do you have a current license?” the officer asked, jolting me away from the railing of the pier in Montauk and back to the dirt riverbank.

“What?” I replied innocently, faking a blank expression.

“I’m afraid this license has expired. It was for last...”

I have no idea what he said next. I sat dumbfounded for what must have been a full minute, gaping in shock at the paper that the man was holding as he presumably expounded on the rules of the river.

“Son, are you all right?”

“What?” I murmured in a trance.

“I asked if you’re all right. You look like you saw a ghost.”

The ranger was eyeing me suspiciously now, so I made an effort to snap out of it before he got the wrong idea. I jumped to my feet, regaining my senses a little.

“I’m sorry, I just ... I saw something I didn’t expect on the back of the license,” I said hurriedly. As I moved next to him, I felt incredibly light, like I was dreaming. He flipped the paper over and turned it in the afternoon light until he could make out what was there. In faded but legible pencil lettering, something was written on the back.

Matt, I really had fun fishing and hanging out with you. I hope we can do it again. Call me! —Heather Martin

There was a heart (a heart!) drawn after her name and a phone number printed below. The gray pencil lead seemed to shimmer in the tree-filtered light, almost as if it wasn’t really there. A ghost of a memory...

“Girlfriend?” the officer asked.

“Oh, no, no,” I said slowly. “Just someone I knew a while ago, and ... well, it’s a long story.” My voice must have betrayed my feelings, because he just grinned.

“Are you from Ohio?” he suddenly asked, confusion touching his voice. He turned over my license to examine it again, presumably checking my address.

I wondered what he meant. “No, New York, why?”

“This looks like an Ohio number,” he explained, flipping the paper over again and pointing to the number Heather had written.

“Ohio?” I echoed, completely confused. “I think it’s Montauk.”

“I don’t know, son. I have some family in Cleveland, and I’m pretty sure their number is area code two-one-six.”

I studied the paper closely. That was clearly the area code Heather had written, but the man had to be mistaken. “I don’t know. This girl lives in Montauk.”

The officer just shrugged as he handed the paper back to me. “Do you have a current license then?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” I admitted. “I don’t think I bought one this year yet. Sorry.”

“Well, I don’t want to cut into your afternoon, but you really need a license before I can let you fish.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll go get one right now. I’m really sorry.”

“I appreciate it, son,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good luck on the river.” He turned and walked to his car. As he opened the door he called out to me. “Your friend, does she like to fish?”

“She loves to.”

“Well, I found my wife by a river, eighteen years ago. It was my best catch, ever!” he said with a chuckle.

I just nodded and smiled. He nodded back smartly, and then got into his car and drove off.

Heather. Heather Martin.

I sat in the dirt for a good fifteen minutes, reading and rereading the writing on the license. How could I have missed it? Idiot! Obviously I hadn’t seen the back of the paper when I stuffed it in my tackle box that summer morning last July. As I thought about her note, I realized the ranger had been right. The area code was not the one for Montauk, as I knew from Julie’s number. It didn’t make sense at first, but then it hit me: Heather must have wanted me to phone her at her relatives’ house. She’d mentioned going to Pennsylvania, and maybe she even said Ohio.

Feelings of elation were mixed with thoughts of what could have been. She must think I’m an ass for not calling! How long had she waited to hear from me, before... Oh god... My heart sank, each time I imagined her waiting for my call, day after day, eventually thinking that I didn’t wanted to talk to her after all.

Why hadn’t I expected this from her and looked at the license that day? I was so stupid! Then again, she was into playing games, so it was kind of her fault. She could’ve just told me her name and asked me to call her, like any reasonable person would’ve done.

I felt like jumping around in celebration, but also like banging my head against a rock. I was a little surprised at my reactions, too. Why was I so happy to know her name? A little mystery solved, perhaps, but no ... It was way more than that.

Yes, the fact that she’d written this note meant that she enjoyed her time with me! All those insecurities about whether she’d ditched me were completely unfounded. If I’d just looked at the paper that day, how would everything have turned out? Would I have gotten together with Julie? Would I have had to endure such heartbreak? Would my relationship with Lara be such a mess? Would my life be so barren and desolate?

Just by missing one little sign.

I didn’t know what to do. An emotional floodgate had been opened. Along with the nostalgia, elation, and frustration that came with seeing Heather’s note, all the other emotions I’d been holding back for months also reared up. Those checks and balances that I’d so carefully built up to suppress unwanted feelings were now swept away, like a toothpick pier by a raging sea. I was left flailing vaguely at the torrent flowing through me.

I hurried back to camp, driven by an overwhelming need to talk to Lara. I was suddenly aware of exactly how much I missed her friendship. Our car wasn’t there when I returned, so I endured a restless hour moving from chair to hammock to tent and back again, jittery, wondering how I would face my sister and my parents given the months I’d spent pushing them away.

Finally I saw our car approaching, silent as it rolled over the layer of pine needles that covered the camp road. I was nervous as hell so I grabbed my book and pretended to read. My parents and their friends got out and started unloading a few bags of food from the trunk. Apparently they’d gone into town to buy some supplies for dinner. Sarah asked me to help as they started making preparations.

“Where’s Lara?” I was unable to suppress the urgency in my voice.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, concern on her face.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just need to talk to her.”

She looked at me for a long moment. Her expression was unreadable.

“I don’t know where she is. She stayed here while we were gone. She’s probably down by the river or over at the game room.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, as I started off toward the campground store.

“Matt, hold on. What’s going on?” she called after me.

“I need to talk to Lara,” I repeated over my shoulder.

“We’re eating in a half hour, so make sure you’re back by then!”

I waved a hand in acknowledgement and picked up my pace to a run. When I reached the arcade room, Lara was not there. There were only a few punks shooting pool. I stopped to catch my breath, wondering where she could be. If she was by the river, she would be hard to find. Still, there was nothing else to do, so I walked to the water and started hiking along the bank. After ten minutes going upstream, I still hadn’t found her, so I went back to camp disappointed. As I approached, I saw Lara helping with dinner. My nerves kicked up another notch as I came near to her.

“Lara, can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked quietly.

She continued working. “Why?”

I followed her around awkwardly as she moved back and forth, placing the paper dishes and plastic dinnerware. “I need to talk. Can we go somewhere?”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

I let out a breath. “Please. I really have some things I need to say.”

“Well, say them then. I can’t promise I’ll listen though.”

“Lara, come on! This is important!” I pleaded.

“Matt, leave me alone, all right?” she spat.

The adults were now watching our exchange. A light breeze punctuated the tense moment of silence. I glanced at my mothers, but they didn’t move. There was concern in their eyes.

“I said I don’t want to talk to you,” Lara muttered.

She put the last few utensils down and then stalked off toward the river. I got the impression that I shouldn’t follow her. I stood at the table, picking at some splinters with a plastic knife, avoiding the eyes of the adults that I knew were observing me. I was about ready to ram the knife through the tabletop.

“Matt?” asked Melissa, her hand on my shoulder.

I stood numbly, feeling foolish. I vaguely saw Sarah walk off toward the river after Lara. For a long while I said nothing. Jamie and Reese went back to cooking dinner.

“I need to talk to her. I’m ready to talk.”

“Well, that’s good, Matt. I’m happy to hear that,” my mom said cautiously. “Why right now? What happened between you two while we were gone?”

“Nothing. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“What, then?”

I wasn’t sure what to say next. Finally, I mustered up some courage.

“I just feel bad about ... about the way I’ve treated her. And the way I’ve treated you and Mom the last few months.”

I could sense my mom release some tension as I said those words. She took a slow, deep breath, as she sat down at the picnic table. I remained standing, still picking at the wood with the knife. Mom reached out and stopped my hand gently.

“Matt, sit down.”

I sat next to her, eyes wet, studying the blue and white patterned flowers on the waxed paper plate. The stupid design of this stupid plate...

The flowers jumped out at me like I’d never seen anything like that on a plate before. Someone had taken time to design and draw these soft petals and delicate stems, carefully capturing the essence of the blooms, placing them in the floral layout, and printing them up in pastel colors. Then we just slopped food on it and threw the plates out, never to be seen again.

In my mind I saw a mother carefully selecting just the right plate for her son’s birthday party, and then what? Did anyone even care what she had chosen, as the plates became smeared with chocolate frosting and then were unceremoniously discarded in a large black plastic trash bag along with a ton of other shit? What was the point of beauty, even stupid, stupid, useless beauty like the stupid flowers on this stupid plate in front of me, if we didn’t even appreciate it?

The world is such an endless waste, I thought through my tears. I’d wasted how much time being mad at Lara? And for what?

A tear dropped onto the plate, wetting the bouquet.

After a while, I started to calm down. Melissa seemed unsure where, or when, to begin. She just held my hand as I regained my composure. At last, she spoke.

“This’s been a rough time for all of us. I know you’ve had some tough things happen to you this winter.”

I wondered what she knew. Julie had broken it off with me. But what did she know from Lara?

“It’s been a difficult time for Lara, too,” she continued. “We’ve been at our wits’ end trying to figure out why the two of you have been so irritated with each other. Something obviously happened between you two back in January.”

She paused expectantly.

“Mom, I can’t—” I started to say.

“Matt, it’s okay. I don’t need to know what it was. I haven’t needed to know. What I want ... What your mother and I want is for you and Lara to be happy. If you have an issue with Lara, and if you can resolve it with her, then that’s fine,” she said, holding out her open hand. “But what’s not been fine is this anger, this shutting-out of your family.”

I sat quietly for a while, digesting some of my thoughts and feelings. Things are such a mess.

“I’m sorry. I was having a tough time, and I just couldn’t get out of it, I guess.”

“Why wouldn’t you let us help you?”

“I didn’t want to be helped.”

“Do you want help now?” she asked, looking at me intently.

I stared at the plate. It was just a paper circle with a mass-produced design on it. I thought for a moment. Did I want to come clean, examine my life?

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I think that, no matter what, if you get out what you need to get out, you’ll feel better than how you’ve felt these last months.”

I flinched at her statement, unsure of its truth. Some things seemed better left undisturbed. It had become instinctive to shut down any encroaching emotions for so long. That reflex was now threatening to kick in again, but for the first time, I was not welcoming it.

“How are you so sure?” I asked.

My mom put a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever it is, your mother and I have probably been somewhere just like it.”

I was doubtful of that, but I didn’t say so.

“Listen, Matt, I think it’s great that you want to talk with Lara.” Her voice was more animated now. “I know she wants to reach out to you too.”

I wondered why she thought that. It seemed like I was the last person in the world Lara wanted to see.

“I can just tell,” she added, seemingly reading my thoughts.

“Well, she obviously doesn’t want to reach out right now,” I said bitterly.

My mom smiled sadly. “Do you remember our talk in the cabin a few months ago?”

“You mean when you grounded me?” I asked, wincing at the memory.

“Yeah, that. Did you feel like reaching out that day?”

I stayed quiet, not sure what she was getting at. I thought back. Mostly, all I could remember was feeling detached from life.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t want to talk to you at all, back then.”

She looked at me and then said, “I was thinking more about reaching out to Lara.”

Again, I cast around in my memories. Yes ... There had been a moment when I wanted to talk to Lara. But how did my mom know? Or even remember?

“I guess so. I think I wanted to talk to Lara that afternoon, but I didn’t,” I admitted.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just wasn’t ready, I guess.”

“Well, she’s going through the same feelings you are.”

“So I have to wait until she’s ready? How long is that going to be?” I started feeling more depressed. Were Lara and I going to go around in a loop, always waiting for each other to be ready, then getting angry when it didn’t happen?

“No, I think she wants to talk now. But like you, she is also very confused, and hurting.”

Melissa glanced toward the river, where Sarah was walking back to camp.

“Have you talked with her?” I asked after a pause.

“Some.”

I could tell by her tone that it was probably more than ‘some’. I was slightly more optimistic that Lara might talk to me, if my mom really thought it was so.

“What has she said?” I asked.

“You really should work this out with her, Matt.”

“How?”

“Let’s see what Mom has to say.”

Sarah neared, her eyes were slightly red around the edges. She and Melissa looked at each other for a few long moments before she sat down across from us.

“How is she?” I asked.

“She says she wants to talk to you,” said my mom, nodding.

“Right now?”

She nodded again. “She’s waiting by the river.”

“What about dinner?” I asked. I didn’t think our conversation would last only five minutes.

“Don’t worry; you can eat when you’re done. This is more important than some corn and fish.”

I sat still, fidgeting with the cheap plastic fork. The tines were all twisted and bent. Sarah took my hand in hers.

“Matt, she said it was okay if you came to talk.”

I stood up, avoiding my mothers’ eyes. “All right. We’ll be over there, then.” I started off toward the river.

“Matt,” called out Sarah.

I turned to look at her.

“We love you. Both of you.”

I smiled a little and walked toward the sound of the rushing river.

It was cold on the beach that day. Low clouds were being dragged across the sky like gray finger paint. The washed-out light made everything white. Small but angry waves continued their endless erosion of the coastline. People were scarce, leaving me to command a huge expanse of sand that more than adequately served as the Saharan desert.

I was playing with my favorite Matchbox car, a Ford Escort decaled with rally-racing markings. The car jumped up over the giant dunes, gracefully landing on the down slopes.

Rrrrmmm... !

“Matt, come play with me in the water!” chirped Lara.

“No, I don’t want to. I’m racing in the Paris-Dakar rally.”

“Please? I’ll be your best friend forever?”

“No!”

Lara stamped her little foot. “Fine! You’re mean!”

She ran away toward where our mothers and aunt lay on bright colored towels. I watched her go for a moment, stung by her tone. Then the race called me back to the sand.

Rrrrmmm. Oh, an accident! The Escort was flipped over on its top. The drivers scrambled to get out of the flaming vehicle. Sand flew up everywhere, as the car was buried by a freak sandstorm. What would the drivers do? They would have to wait for their tow truck to pull it out.

Another engine sound was getting louder and louder. A real engine, I realized. I looked up. A red plane was flying low over the beach, trailing a green flag! I watched in awe as the pilot of the propeller plane waved to me. I waved back, jumping up and down, laughing giddily.

I had to tell Lara! I ran all the way back to where everyone was stretched out on towels.

“Lara, did you see the airplane? Did you see the airplane?”

She was looking after it into the distance.

“Yeah! That was neat!” she exclaimed.

She ran off toward the water, arms outstretched to her sides. I followed, echoing her echo of the engine sounds, so sure that if we could run just a little faster, we could fly after the plane. Lara jumped over the first waves and skipped into the ocean, eventually being tripped up and swallowed by the dark waters. I laughed to see her fall so.

“Lara, you’re silly,” I said, as she crawled out of the sea foam.

“No, you’re silly.”

We stared after the plane. It was but a speck in the sky now.

“Where do you think it was it going?” she asked.

“Probably Greenland,” I replied.

“Greenland? No, I think it was going to England.”

“Nah, that’s too far away.”

“No, it’s not,” answered Lara confidently. “Mom said that England is just on the other side of the ocean.”

“That’s far. The ocean is big. England is far away. If it was close I would go to watch the Paris-Dakar rally.”

“Did you win the race?”

Fear abruptly gripped me. In the excitement of seeing the plane, I’d forgotten all about my car! I ran up the beach toward where I’d been playing with it.

“Matt!” Lara called out behind me.

All I could see were endless white dunes that all looked the same. I’d left the car half-buried in the sand. My favorite car! I was so happy when I’d received it from Uncle Hans for my birthday a few days earlier. He’d also given me a real rally car magazine.

Now the car was gone. I ran around, searching for it frantically, my eyes tightening.

“Matt, what are you doing?” asked Lara as she caught up with me.

“I left my car in the sand. I can’t find it!” I cried, fighting back the inevitable tears.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you look for it,” she said cheerily, as she started searching the area.

I couldn’t believe it. All because of that stupid plane. I was digging up everything white, with great hope, only to find it was just a shell or a pebble. Finally, I sat down and cried.

“Don’t cry, Matt,” said Lara, patting my back. “We’ll find it.”

“It’s lost. I lost it! It was my favorite car!”

“You won’t find it if you don’t look!”

I just hung my head as Lara crawled away again. What was Hans going to think when I had to tell him I lost the car? I was in despair. Tear drops left little craters in the blurry white sand below me.

“Matt! Matt! I found it!”

I looked at Lara through wet eyes. She was running toward me, smiling brightly. Unbelievably, she was holding a small white car in her outstretched hand. She handed it to me and watched happily as I examined it, shaking sand out of the beige interior. I was completely overjoyed. I stood and gave Lara a big hug.

“Lara! You’re my best friend!”

“Forever?” she asked with a happy smile.

“I promise. You’re my best friend, forever...”

When I reached the river, Lara was sitting on a slope of soft dry moss, arms clasping her knees up to her chest as she stared at the deep pool of water before her. Her long hair swayed gently in the breeze.

I wondered if she was as nervous as I was. I sat down a few quiet feet away from her, adding my gaze to the river’s surface. She didn’t acknowledge me, so I just sat still, trying to read her disposition. Every now and then a trout swam lazily up to the surface and sucked a floating bug into its mouth. If only my life was half as easy as that.

Where to start? I wished that there was some way of just making everything right, like it used to be. But there were demons to wrestle with, and even though I was ready to face them, I didn’t know which to tackle first.

“You haven’t fished much this weekend,” I finally murmured, just to wet my dry mouth.

“Haven’t felt like it.”

At least she doesn’t sound angry.

“Mmm ... Mom said it was okay if I came over,” I said, in an attempt to test her mood.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about earlier. Some asshole in the game room was hitting on me, and I was in a bad mood.”

“That sucks. Do you want me to go find him?” I asked, trying to sound playful.

“No, that’s all right. I kicked his ass for you already.”

I laughed a little and then took a deep breath. At least she seemed open to talking.

“I don’t know where to begin,” I admitted, picking at the moss vaguely.

“I don’t either.”

“I miss you.”

Lara was silent for a bit. “Me, too,” she whispered. “A lot.”

I chanced a glance at her. A single tear ran down her cheek as she continued to stare at the river.

“How did we get here?” she asked with a broken voice.

This was the moment of truth.

“It’s my fault,” I breathed. “I pushed you away, even after you tried to help me that night.”

Lara started to speak and then was quiet. When she didn’t talk again, I went on. I had to get things out before I lost courage.

“I’m really sorry for being such an asshole. I feel terrible about the last few months. But I just couldn’t snap out of my depression, you know? Every time I thought I should talk to you, I just couldn’t do it. Instead, I said mean things, and ... I can’t go on like this, though. I want to go back like things were before.”

“We can’t just go back,” Lara said.