When We Hold Each Other Up, page 4
“Two days ago.” Though it seemed so much longer than that. I’d watched Eduardo protect my family by hurting others, then we’d just—kept going. What if it wasn’t worth it? If nobody listened to us because they were too scared of Eduardo, what could we do? I had to turn the story.
She signed to the others as she spoke. “Do you miss them?”
I shook my head. “This is the right thing to do, so there’s no time to miss them. I’ll see them again, before long.”
The canoe eddied closer to the raft, and Brand slowed the boat with a few back paddles. “Have you been to the city yet, kid?”
“A long time ago. I remember running away from it.”
“Then you should know. The city takes what it wants. We just try to stay out of its way.”
A two-toned whistle pierced the river’s murmur. Jyre set aside her paddle and reeled in a fishing line trailing behind the canoe.
“Dead zone coming up,” Brand said. “You’ll want to take your arms out of the water, Harmonizer.”
“What’s a dead zone?” I asked.
Jyre wrapped the hook in a piece of cloth and set the line between her feet. “Lack of oxygen in the water, so the plants and fish can’t survive.”
Eduardo raised his head. “Pollution?”
“Farming, we think,” Jyre said. “When the soil gave out farther west, our stories say some of the big farms moved here.”
“Excellent.” Eduardo shook the water off his hands then unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged off his sleeves. Only wearing an undershirt, more scars showed along his biceps and lined his shoulders, shaped like the welts on his jaw.
Brand shifted in his seat. “What are you doing?”
“Helping the river.”
“How?”
He plunged in his arms past his elbows. “By removing the nutrients and decay using up the oxygen. You won’t see a change this winter, but the river will change.”
Brand signed something to Jyre, and she huffed, but signed whatever he asked to the rest of the crew. A response came rolling back, repeated by each boat.
Jyre smiled. “The others say thank you for trying. Our ancestors have dredged this section of the river multiple times, but we haven’t seen it come back to life.”
Eduardo dipped his head. “This should help.”
As we floated through the dead zone, Eduardo hung over the side of the boat, his arms submerged. The river mostly looked normal, but in a few patches, the dark water turned yellowish and stank of decay. If Eduardo noticed, he didn’t react. Some of his pinched look seemed to ease.
After a few miles, we left the hills for a straight stretch with oak and pine groves on either side, and the whistle sounded again. The boats released their lines, and Jyre tossed the hook to trail.
Eduardo took a deep breath and raised his head. His eyes looked brighter, and the redness had drained from the welts along his jaw. He dried his arms and pulled on his shirt and coat. Only his right hand trailed in the water, now. “The river should improve over time. If I can, I’ll come check on it.”
Brand paddled hard enough, the canoe shot forward. “Easy to ask for thanks for work nobody can see.”
“It’s not work. Work has to be done; this should have been done.”
Brand turned his back on us, facing up river as he guided the canoe. “I guess you earned your hospitality.”
“Can’t earn a gift,” I said.
Jyre chuckled. “Kid’s got you there, Brand.”
Jyre’s acceptance quieted Brand, and she asked me more about my family, how we chose to live with the rest of the world. She’d come from homesteaders a way’s off, but it hadn’t felt right to her, so she joined up with the Riverroad community.
“Being part of this—part of the river—it feels right to me. We feed each other, play with each other, love each other. It feels like the gentlest way to live.” She flicked her paddle and splashed the back of Brand’s head. He glared at her. “And these minnows aren’t so bad, either.”
Brand splashed her back. “Minnow? Then I guess you’re a tadpole.”
“Then I’ll grow into a bullfrog and eat you whole!”
“Unless I grow into a pike and eat you first.”
Eduardo held still as they lobbed their insults, as if trying not to disturb a fox in the woods, but he smiled. His eyes softened, just like they had when I tried to talk to him at the cave. I imagined he was thinking of somewhere else, another time when he wasn’t so lonely.
A few hours later, we’d lulled into the quiet of the river. Brand fished while Jyre guided the canoe through the channels. The water was high enough with fall rain and the first snow for easy floating, though my legs and bum itched to be up and walking. Sitting in the boat wasn’t the same as foraging along the trail, running back and forth to load the wagon with what I found, or pausing to watch a wolf spider until I felt like catching up with the others. The single kayakers found that joy, taking turns darting into the rougher water. They’d flip and twist their boats like extensions of themselves.
Eduardo still settled in the bottom of the boat, his hands drifting in the current. Occasionally, he’d crack open his eyes, look me over, glance at the others, then settle back into whatever he was doing. Eating, I guessed, like Brother taking his time to graze.
He twitched awake in the late afternoon, sitting upright. He looked around, then twisted and plunged his arms into the water, soaking his sleeves.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Brand and Jyre both backpaddled, slowing the canoe and putting distance from the others.
“There’s something up ahead.”
Jyre signed to the rest of the group. “There’s the broken bridge where we usually camp.”
Eduardo shook his head. He ground his teeth. “I don’t know. It’s something more.” He pulled his hands from the water and shook them dry. Brand stared at them as if Eduardo had picked up a knife. “We need—you should make camp. Send a scout ahead.”
Jyre signed his words but said, “We have two hours of daylight left. We can let you land, but we—” She shaded her eyes, then gave a thumbs-up. “Well now, I guess the captain likes you. She says to shore.”
The boats turned toward a long sandspit before the next bend. I touched Eduardo’s arm, and he flinched.
“It’s fine, Rowan.”
“What did you sense?” “Something is altering the river.”
Brand white-knuckled his paddle. “There’s nothing up ahead that would hurt us. I’ve run this stretch of river since I was floating in the womb. All that’s left is the broken bridge where we always make camp.”
The canoe beached, and Eduardo swung over the side. He paced to the captain, who yelled directions for where to drag up the raft. I ran after him.
She brushed back her locs and pulled up a headband. “This better be good, soulkind.”
I tucked that word away. It sounded like a more polite version of what Granmum called him, soul-eater.
He clasped his hands behind his back. “All I can tell you is there is something ahead. Not something that’s been there for a long time like the bridge. Something being built.”
“I’ve sent a scout, but I’ll warn you—you’re wrong, and I doubt you’ll find a free boat ride tomorrow.”
He dipped his head. “Today was more than enough, thank you.”
She tapped my shoulder. “Go on and help Brand set up camp. You rode all day, so you’re on firewood duty, got it?”
I glanced at Eduardo, but the captain nudged my shoulder. “He’s safe with me. Go on.” She winked.
I trudged back to the canoe. Two of the small kayaks had been carried over, circling a fire pit Brand dug in the silt.
He crossed his arms. “If you want a hot meal, you better get some driftwood before the other kids get it all.”
I wanted to say I’d made plenty of my own fires, but it probably wouldn’t look good for Eduardo. Besides, the captain was right, I’d ridden all day. Least I could do was help make a hot meal.
The camp rhythms felt easy and familiar. Children played chase in between delivering firewood to the different sites. Driftwood collected against the eroded sandspit, and the pine and fir along the bank offered plenty of needles and deadwood for kindling. The adults stretched tent lines or hung hammocks, aired out wool blankets, or set water to boil. The elders circled their chairs around the biggest fire and steeped a pot of tea, sharp with dried mint. I coaxed our fire to crackling before most of the others, and Brand shook his head. “If only you could paddle.”
Eduardo chatted with the captain while her second gave orders on which boats to repair while still light. Jyre taught me to make cordage for fishing lines from reeds along the bank.
Like my last day at the cave, the peace couldn’t last. The wailing came with the sunset. It stretched over the river, a deep, rifting grief. A few whistles confirmed it was the scout, but the wailing grew louder. The kind of sound one hated to hear shrilling through the woods or ahead on the trail because all that waited was a darkness that couldn’t be consoled away.
Solar lanterns flared around the fires as the Riverroaders rushed through the gloom to meet the scout. Brand and Jyre told me to wait, but I lost sight of Eduardo’s dark coat in the crowd. I counted to twenty, then skulked to the crowd’s edge. I didn’t want to gawk at the pain—it wasn’t my community or my burden to bear—but some instinct said Brand wasn’t the only one to distrust Eduardo, even though Eduardo had lost some of his watchfulness.
The lanterns illuminating the shore outlined the scout pulling a kayak through the shallows as another person huddled in the seat. They moaned, clutching a pack against their chest like a child. Murmurs of recognition passed through the group. I couldn’t catch the name, but she was a member of another rafting community.
Eduardo edged the crowd, and I mimicked him, easing to the outer side near the woods, bordering the river so the Riverroaders couldn’t surround me. If Eduardo was thinking of running, our packs were by Brand’s fire in the middle of the camp, hard to reach.
I wasn’t sure where I’d gathered this sense of mistrust, but whenever I’d say such things to my family, like how to position our campsite or about sticking together if we passed a group I didn’t like, they’d shake their heads and say such thoughts were unbecoming in these times. We didn’t have to live that way and shouldn’t. If Eduardo acted this same way, then maybe I’d picked up this sense before I ran away from the city.
The paddler’s voice echoed over the water. “They’ve dammed the river—a new dam. It consumed the boats, and the soul-eaters laughed. They took some of us, catching us in ropes and hauling us up when we tried to turn our boats around. Tochi and I abandoned our boat and tried to swim. He dragged me upriver, but one of the soul-eaters shot him. They killed him!”
Several people turned, scanning the crowd, which made me look for Brand. If anyone were going to blame Eduardo, it would be him. Even if it didn’t make any sense—Eduardo had stopped the Riverroaders from the same fate. Brand had to recognize that, and if not him, then the captain.
Brand’s voice drew my gaze. “When did this happen, Tessa?”
Tessa spoke between sobs. I couldn’t catch it, but the response rippled the crowd: three days ago.
Brand swiveled and cut a path through the crowd.
Eduardo strongarmed me aside. “Don’t interfere.”
“But—”
Brand stood a head taller than Eduardo. He gripped a fistful of Eduardo’s coat. “Well, soul-eater?”
Eduardo clasped his hands behind his back. “Release me, Brand.”
“Are you going to keep telling lies?” Eduardo sighed. Fast as a fish in the reeds, he slipped out of his jacket and side-stepped Brand. When Brand reached for him again, Eduardo swatted aside his hand and danced a few steps ahead. Brand stuttered and fumed for Eduardo to get back here, but the Riverroaders didn’t block his path. He crouched at the edge of the circle near Tessa.
She glanced at him, then buried her face in the bag she clutched.
Eduardo pitched his voice low enough I hurried around the edges of the crowd to catch his words. “—Tochi. A sunflower was tattooed behind his ear, wasn’t it? I tried to save him, poured everything I could spare into him, but I couldn’t stop the bleeding. He was comfortable, when he went to the next river, I promise.” Eduardo extended his hand, palm up. “I can show you.”
The crowd murmured, but the captain held still.
Tessa lifted her head. “You helped Tochi?”
“I hope so.”
She rested her hand in his.
I’m not sure what I expected—their hands to glow, a burst of light from Eduardo’s eyes—but nothing happened. After a few moments of silence, Tessa exhaled and rested her head on the pack. She eased onto her side, her hand slipping from Eduardo’s.
Someone, probably Brand, shouted, “Did you just feed on her?”
Eduardo cut a look over his shoulder. “No! I gave her rest.” He took a shaky breath. “Her foot is broken, if she didn’t tell you.”
Brand stormed forward, but the captain signed something that stopped him on his heels.
“Thank you, Harmonizer,” the captain said. “You saw what happened?”
Eduardo slowly stood, his hands stiff at his sides. “Not exactly. I found Tochi’s body downstream, I think. I tried to help, but…” He shook his head. “I did all I could before they found me, and I had to run.”
So that’s how he’d ended up exhausted in the apple orchard. That could have been the fate of my family.
I darted past Brand, snatching Eduardo’s coat, which he let drag in the dirt. “It’s true. Eduardo couldn’t walk when I found him. He was barely conscious. He truly gave everything he had.” I handed Eduardo his coat, but he lowered his head as he shrugged it on.
“Rowan, they found your family because they followed me. I wasn’t sure until now.”
“They would have come for us, just like they are coming for the Riverroaders.”
“Enough.” The captain shouldered past us, addressing the crowd. “We need to move with focus and flow. Rest, mourn, be among family tonight. We will set extra watch, and in the morning, we will make our decisions.”
The group slowly separated, returning to their fires. The captain let out a long breath. She nodded at us. “You need rest as much as we do. Change is coming, it seems.”
Eduardo nodded and guided me toward Brand’s fire, leaning on my shoulder.
“Eduardo,” the captain said, “thanks for helping Tessa.”
He dipped his head. “Of course.” He leaned on me as we walked toward Brand’s fire.
I lowered my voice. “Are we safe with him?” Some eyes watched us, but mostly people slid their gazes past us like the way one keeps an eye on a coydog circling a little too close.
“What do you think?” Eduardo asked.
“I would keep moving.”
“I’m not sure they’ll let us.”
“Then we keep our own watches—that’s what the stories say to do.”
We neared the fire, and he straightened, taking his own weight. “You sleep. I don’t need to.”
Only Jyre waited at the fire, whittling a bone fish hook. “Stew’s on if you want something hot.”
I offered her some of my rations in exchange for the bowl, but she shook her head.
“You’re guests. Both of you.” She nodded at Eduardo. “The river’s hospitality means everyone eats.”
I felt heavy and warm after the fish stew. Even though I wanted to stay awake with Eduardo, I dozed, settled against a piece of driftwood while Eduardo tended the fire. Jyre used a stick to prop up the canoe and slept under it like a tent. Brand didn’t return to the camp, but the captain came by, her voice shaking me from near-sleep, though I kept my eyes closed.
“If you choose to come with us in the morning, Jyre will be in the bow of the canoe tomorrow. Brand has agreed he needs some time to reconnect with the river before he is in charge of a canoe again.”
“I don’t think it would be wise,” Eduardo said. “My presence will probably cause you more harm than good.”
“I understand. Thank you for the warning. At least we will go expecting change.”
“I’m not sure that makes it easier.”
“As we say, you’ll never float the same river.”
Eduardo hummed. “I like that one.”
Eduardo nudged me awake the next time, only a few hours later. The moon hung low, a cat’s claw hooking the river. Time to go. The Riverroaders would be leaving soon to make up for lost time, and Eduardo wanted to put some miles between us before they reached this new dam.
I waved goodbye as we cut into the woods around the bank, but a younger voice called to wait.
Three kayakers hurried after us, the blunt boats slung over their shoulders. They were the small, playful kayaks that would dart into the rougher waters.
Eduardo shifted forward, angled between me and the riders.
They were young, but not as young as me. The leader was short and solid with dark skin. They pushed back their helmet. “I’m Jana, and this is Mick and Ruel. We believe you and want to help. We know the tributaries and can try to find any communities you might have missed on our way to the winter beaches.”
“You—you do?” Eduardo asked.
I grinned. “Thank you.”
“We’ll tell your story,” Mick said. “And add how we met you and how you helped Tessa. Hopefully, it will convince some.”
“There will be more than one new dam,” Eduardo said. “Be careful. Listen to the river.”
Jana nodded. “If you want to reach more people, you should visit the Archivists.” They pointed into the woods. “Keep east, until you come to a lake. They have a radio and other ways of sending out messages. We use them to update our maps.”
“I’ve heard of them,” Eduardo said. “Thank you.”
They carried their kayaks into the shallows. “May you always find water!”
I waved. “May the channels carry you high!”
The boats angled into the current and swung around the bend, fast as dragonflies.
