Dawn
Dawn
T he man didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. After his shower, the wedding and the afterparty finally crashed upon him and he lumbered back to bed. He barely registered the dark wall of Huk’s body on the far side of the mattress before his eyes closed.
Lewis awoke to find the space beside him empty and cold. The window was wide open.
He called out, “Huk?”
He shouldn’t have cared if the creature had left, yet he did. It didn’t feel right without a proper goodbye, not after a night he would likely never experience again. Lewis tore himself away from the warm cocoon of the blankets and stepped to the windowsill.
A cold blast of air against his torso sent him shrinking into himself. Dipping his head, he spied a dark mass on the levee trail. Barely perceptible were two pinpricks of amber hidden within the solid shadow. It peered up at him, expectantly. Huk was waiting for him.
Dressed in jeans and two layers of long sleeves beneath his jacket, Lewis braved the dawn cracking across the horizon. As he approached the mass of river debris, it slipped into the black water.
“Huk?”
“Walk with me.”
Lewis stuffed his hands into his pockets and hugged the goose down quilting closer to his torso. He followed the dark wake of Huk, iron slipping through ink.
“For nearly two centuries I’ve dwelled in these waters.” Huk’s voice carried from the river as though it was merely an arm’s reach away. “Yet I have not explored their entire length.”
“Not to the headwaters or to the Bay?”
“I did not want to.”
Lewis dipped his chin into the collar of his jacket. “I understand.”
The world lightened as a pale rose blushed at the seam of sky and earth. Lewis briefly worried he would meet early runners along the trail until a sprinkle kissed his cheek. Rain hadn’t been in the forecast, but he breathed his relief before flipping up his jacket’s hood.
To his left, Huk continued to weave between the slow currents. To his right, the buildings sagged into the slope of the levee, the dawn precipitation enchanting them into an extended slumber. As they carried on, the sprinkling from the sky condensed into a drizzle.
The fizzle of the meeting of drops and river blurred Huk’s features despite the amassing light. No one would notice the creature unless they deliberately searched. Lewis considered speaking, but he did not know what to say to Huk. He followed, patiently waiting to see where the creature would take him.
A soft patter drummed over Lewis’ hood. A mist rose from the trail, further softening the edges of the world. He threw a glance at Huk, who slithered in a tighter wave. Serpent-like in movement and intent, the creature twisted through the static of rain disrupting the surface. Its eyes pierced ahead, the gold dulled by gray light.
Lewis’ lips moved to speak but any words fell into the cavern of his throat. He came into the presence of an aging building. Jasper rust paint chipped at the planks’ edges to reveal silver wood. The backside of the building was nondescript, no more than a child’s drawing of a rectangular edifice. But here, Huk coiled in the water.
“So many …” hissed the creature.
Lewis strained to parse what he heard from the hush of rain. “Huk?”
“So many lives …”
“Huk. What happened?”
The creature coiled and writhed, breaking the surface of the river in a tumult of waves. Lewis flicked his head up and down the trail, but there were no unwitting passersby. The man looked at the building by which they stopped. It continued to loom, gray and silent.
“Here. Lost to the river,” Huk continued to rant. “My river.” The creature’s eyes unfocused from the man, lost in memory. “I promised to protect him. But I failed.”
Huk screeched. A shard of ice pierced into Lewis’ spine.
“I hurt so many more …”
Lewis chewed his lip helplessly. He stared at the building again. A cursory glance at the map when planning his stay had pointed to a few locales of note in Isleton. One of them was the historic Bing Kong Tong branch. This had to be it. Lewis suppressed an urge to jaunt to the building’s front facade to confirm. Instead he stepped closer to the edge of the levee to see to Huk.
“Huk! It’s me, Lewis. I’m here.” He wanted to reach out to the creature, but he could not span the water without jeopardizing his dry clothes. “Huk!”
The creature’s eyes roved to Lewis. Its body halted its coiling.
Lewis eased to the edge just shy of where the incline began. He crouched. “Huk. Tell me what happened.”
“I would not lose Fei again. I followed him across the ocean.” Huk slithered up the bank, body slathered against the incline. “I couldn’t protect him.” A wail curled from Huk’s snout.
Lewis focused his gaze on the gold, staring past the water dripping from the brim of his hood. “Huk … What happened to Fei?”
“He was murdered for courting a white woman.”
It shouldn’t have surprised Lewis, but the revelation jolted through him like a bolt of lightning.
“In my anger, I lost control. The waters rose and I hurt—killed many people, including his countrymen.”
Lewis’ eyes blew wide. He gazed at the rain cloaking the river. “You caused a flood.”
Huk’s snout bowed into the slick gravel and dirt. “And I have wallowed in this river since.”
Lewis squinted against a pall of rain angling upon his face. He stood up. Huk slumped back into the water, the mud not of its body dissolving into the darkness. It turned its head, cleaving into the current, body following suit.
“Wait,” said Lewis, “are you leaving?”
Huk stilled, tail paddling idly behind to remain stationary.
“I appreciate what you’ve told me.” Lewis’ arms hung at his sides. His fingers dipped into the water slicked on his jacket. The sun had risen by now, masked by a sheet of clouds. Though the day crawled along, the man did not wish to meet it. “Do you want to come back to my room with me?”