19. The Waterfall #2
The question hits the cave and dies there. I stare through the water until the white blur makes my head ache.
“You loved this place,” I tell her. “Dad said you loved it.” My voice cracks on Dad.
“He says things like that all the time. Like I am supposed to be happy he remembers enough for both of us. Like stories are the same as you being here.”
I press my fist against my mouth. “I know that is mean.”
The water keeps coming down.
“I know he tries. I know he misses you. I know he does everything. I know.” My voice shakes.
“But I need you, and you aren't here.” The words leave me empty and I sit and wallow.
I think about Boston. About Dad saying this move would be good for us, and me wanting to believe him so badly. And now I am behind a waterfall with a bad knee and no phone.
Great job Ellie.
No one is coming. What would Dad do?
Assess the situation. What are my facts?
I am hurt. No phone. No one knows where I am. There is no real shelter here. Only water and cold.
I have to try to get myself out. There is no other way. The thought scares me so badly I almost start crying again.
Then I get mad.
At the man. At Annie. At Dad. At Mom. At myself. At the stupid waterfall and the stupid cave and the stupid phone that is not where it is supposed to be.
I grab the rock wall and pull myself up. My knee tries to fold immediately. A sound rips out of me and echoes in the cave.
“Get a grip, Bie,” I whisper. “You can do this.”
The water in front of the cave looks impossible now. Before, it was something to crawl through.
Now it’s a wall.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay, we can do this.”
I take one step. Then another. I slide along the wall slowly. I make it over to the edge I came in on. I’m going to have to turn around and lower myself down.
I step forward to start to get on my knees and my shoe slides on the wet rock. I catch myself, but my knee gives and my body drops sideways. My shoulder hits the wall. My hand claws at the rock and finds nothing.
For one moment, I am standing and falling at the same time in slow motion.
Then my knee hits first and the pain is so bad I jerk to the side. My head cracks against stone.
There is pain and then nothing.
***
“Ellie, baby?”
“Mom? Is that you?”
“Yes, baby. I’m right here. I’m with you.”
“Momma, I messed up so badly.”
“No, baby. It’s okay.”
“No Momma, it’s not. I’m in trouble.”
“I know, baby.”
“I heard some terrible, horrible things, and I ran away.”
“It’s understandable, my love. It confused and hurt you.”
“Yes. That’s exactly it. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“Daddy lied to me.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? How did he lie?”
“He broke our promise.”
“Eleanor Margaret Bie. Our promise is for honesty. Not full disclosure. Have you thought about the difference?”
“Well, no.”
“Baby, your father loves you and would never do anything to hurt you.”
“But what if he hurts me and he didn’t mean to?”
“Then that sounds like you need to think about what forgiveness is all about.”
“Mom, the man at the clinic knew things.”
“Baby, mean people can know things. They can say things. It doesn't mean they are true.”
“He said Annie was using Daddy and me.”
“What did Annie say?”
“She said he was wrong. She yelled at him and told him not to talk about me.”
“Sounds like she cares about you.”
“But what if she only said that because he caught her?”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.”
“He said she was playing mommy.”
“He wanted to hurt both of you.”
“He called me a brat.”
“He does not know you, my love.”
“Mom. Can I tell you something that might make you sad?”
“If you are being honest, El, it will not make me sad.”
“I like Annie.”
“I know, baby. It's okay.”
“She listened when I talked about you and she understands.”
“That sounds like kindness and I’m glad you have her to talk to.”
“I miss you, Momma. With my whole heart.”
“I know, baby.”
“Why did you have to leave? I needed you. Dad needs you.”
“I did not want to, baby. But it was my time.”
“That doesn't help. It just makes me mad.”
“I know.”
“And I hate being mad at you.”
“I know that too, baby.”
“Momma, I feel like I’m losing you. I can’t remember your voice sometimes.”
“My sweet baby girl, you will always have me,” she says. “You are a part of me and I am a part of you. Look into the mirror and your eyes are mine. Your heart is half mine. When I made you I put my fingerprints all over you baby girl. I’m always with you Ellie.”
“I love you, Momma.”
“I love you too, my sweet girl. Be kind to your father and listen with an open heart. He may stumble. He may choose the wrong words.But he will always be there for you.”
“No, Momma, please don’t leave me.”
“Ellie, you have to wake up.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Ellie, you have to. You have to fight.”
“What if nobody finds me?”
“El.”
“I’m listening.”
“You wake up now. You stay awake. I’ll love you forever, Ellie.”
“I love you, Momma.”
“He’s coming, Ellie. Wake up.”
I move my head, there’s a cold rock under my cheek. I’m suddenly too aware that my knee is on fire. I sit up slowly.
For a brief moment I remember my mom. I turn my head to look for her, too fast, and pain pounds behind my eyes.
The cave is empty. The grief that comes with that is so big it seems to suck all of the air out of the cave.
I take a deep breath and try to hear my mother’s words again.
He’s coming.
I press my fingers into the wet rock and squeeze my eyes shut harder.
“Hurry, Daddy,” I whisper.
The water drowns out the sound.
“I’m sorry, Momma. I’m just too tired.”
I lie back down and close my eyes, and whisper one last time…
“Daddy. I’m at the waterfall.”