Bathwater Blues: A Novel Read online

  “What do you see?” Joanna asked, and Nuala placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Shh,” she said. “He’s gone for now.”

  He let out a heavy, shuddery breath. The sun lit his streaming tears white like glass.

  Addie leaned toward Nuala to whisper. “Is he reliving something?”

  Nuala shrugged. “It’s hard to say. He could be. Or he might be experiencing a fear. Like a nightmare.”

  This reminded Addie of the nightmare she’d confided to Bud—her mother and the flames.

  “Is it possible to see things that aren’t… bad?”

  “Pain isn’t necessarily bad…”

  Bud was weeping now. The others stood rigid, his discomfort sinking its hooks into them as well. His eyes never opened during any of this, and his snorting and shaking intensified until he appeared to be freezing in ice water. As he convulsed with sobs, he slowly slid deeper and deeper into the tub until they could only see his brow above the rim, then farther and farther until his breath gurgled.

  Addie fidgeted. “Is he…”

  Nuala went to him and crouched next to the tub. She reached inside, took hold of his naked body beneath his armpits, and heaved him back up. She rested her chin over his shoulder while she held him sitting upright, nodding sympathetically as his cries grew thicker and thicker still.

  This went on for six or seven minutes longer.

  Soon his cries started to subside and she let go. She stood up, the front of her sundress soaked through, and retrieved the towel from the grass. Bud whimpered. She stood next to him, towel ready. Soon he made no sound at all and his eyes sprang open. He jerked his head and looked at them, saw them looking at him, and the helplessness they saw in his eyes caused a murmur in each of their hearts.

  “Here you go.” Nuala spoke softly and opened the towel wide. “Stand up. Put this around yourself.”

  He got out of the tub, pulled the towel tight around himself. The others said nothing. They might have been waiting for him first, hoping that he’d share, but he wouldn’t look at them again. He just stared, wide-eyed, at the ground at his feet.

  Nuala bent next to his ear and whispered something and he flinched toward her voice, like he’d thought he was alone, and she smiled at him. He gave a fleeting glance toward the other three.

  “What did you see?” Joanna asked.

  Ignoring her, he started back alone, leaving his clothes behind, shuffling through the grass like an invalid. No one made any attempt to follow.

  “Is he okay?” Addie asked.

  “He’s fine,” Nuala said. She watched him go with a hard, perceptive expression. “He just needs to collect himself.”

  Addie hoped that was all.

  ✽✽✽

  Later in the day, after wondering long enough about Bud and what he was doing shut inside his room, Addie knocked on his door.

  “Bud?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Either he was ignoring her, she thought, or he was asleep, in which case he wouldn’t mind if she peeked inside. If the former, he might be a little annoyed, but oh well…

  She discreetly opened his door ajar. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked up as she entered. She stood in the doorway, waiting for either a rejection or an invitation. He only stared.

  “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  He shook his head. “Not now.” He turned and lay on his side away from the door.

  “Well… when you’re ready to talk, come find me.”

  She closed his door.

  ✽✽✽

  That evening Addie overheard an argument in the kitchen. She was coming in from the yard, opened the door to hear Joanna in her typical panicked and hostile state.

  “Just read your book and mind your own business,” she said. Lyle was seated at the kitchen table, book opened in front of him, while Joanna stood across the table, hands on her hips.

  “I was,” he said, “before you opened your mouth.”

  Addie stood by the front door, watching with a fair bit of amusement.

  “I was talking to myself, not you.”

  “Then do it someplace where I don’t have to hear it. I’m trying to read, after all.”

  Joanna huffed and left.

  “What was that about?”

  Lyle groaned and set down his book, annoyed even by Addie’s question, it seemed.

  “You’d think a group of angsty lost causes would keep to themselves more, but I can’t get a minute of quiet around here…”

  Addie raised her brow. “You have a perfectly fine bedroom to hide away in.”

  “The damn window is still busted out. I don’t feel comfortable in there…”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  He showed a mean grin. “I suppose it’s mine.”

  Addie made to go to her own bedroom when he stopped her.

  “Hey…” He leaned back in his chair. “I wanted to ask you something…”

  “There are only so many hours in a day, and there are dozens of books left in that box… do you really have the time?”

  He smiled broader. Addie was caught between admiration for his sharp, handsome features, and loathing for the intent behind them. “You remember when I was shut in my room after that first night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nuala had you painting the guesthouse outside, didn’t she? To keep you busy, I guess.”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember I was in my room, feeling sorry for myself like I do… when I heard something outside my broken window.”

  A surge of anxiety went through her.

  “I peeked my head outside and I remember—”

  “You saw me crying under your window,” she said, hoping to reduce the wind in his sails to a breeze. “Yeah, I remember too. What’s your question?”

  He looked disappointed. “Never mind.”

  “Did you really have a question, or were you hoping to humble me?”

  “I was going to ask what you were crying about, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” She considered. “Why?”

  “I was just curious.”

  She knew the real reason. He wanted leverage. He’d let slip about his past that day at the cliffside and now he regretted it. He’d shared something about himself with someone he knew nothing about, and wanted to remedy that.

  Or maybe he was just lonelier than he let on…

  Addie took a seat at the table.

  “I was feeling sorry for myself, and sorry for people I’ve hurt.”

  Lyle chewed his lip, interested.

  “Who have you hurt?”

  Who haven’t I hurt? she wanted to say. “Just… people. Family. Friends. Innocent bystanders.”

  Lyle nodded. “I’m an asshole, too.” He grinned. “Would it comfort you to know it’s not your fault?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “It’s not your fault you’re an asshole.”

  “Oh. We’re back to that again…” She sighed. “I think you just love to hear yourself talk.”

  She stood from the table.

  “I’ve hurt people, too, believe me. I felt guilty. But I also knew I couldn’t change who I was.”

  “Did you even try?”

  “There would be no point. It’s in my blood. In my face…”

  His eyes wandered over the table, into an unseen corner of the room, suddenly distracted.

  “It sounds to me,” Addie said, “like you’re… resolved to not taking any responsibility for yourself. And the more you talk, the more it sounds like you’re still trying to convince yourself, not just me.”

  He blinked hard, regaining himself. “To tell the truth, that’s because I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  Addie gestured to his book on the table, the same as he’d been reading before. “You should keep reading, it’s a pretty good book. It might even give you extra food for thought.”

 
She started again toward the hallway.

  “Oh, I’ve read it,” he called after her. “I don’t agree much with the message, but… it’s a good story.”

  ✽✽✽

  Something made a sound in the dark and Addie’s tired eyes fluttered open. She blinked, looked to the ceiling above her bed. The sound came again and it was a voice.

  “Addie. Are you awake?”

  She turned to see the figure at her bedside. The voice was unmistakably Joanna’s.

  “I’m awake now.” She sat up. “What is it?”

  Joanna took a deep breath. “I’m leaving. Do you want to come with me?”

  Addie sat up straighter. “You’re leaving? Right now?”

  “Yes. Now.”

  “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

  “As far away from here as I can. Do you want to come with or not?”

  “Well… no, not particularly. You know there’s nothing out there, right? We saw with our own eyes. Nothing but forest for miles. And mountains in between. What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t care. I just can’t… I knew you wouldn’t come. Never mind.”

  She shuffled away in the dark and Addie barely followed her shape until she was out the door.

  This fucking girl.

  She threw her sheets off and hurried after her. When she reached the foyer, she caught sight of Joanna’s silhouette paused in the open front door. She turned to see Addie coming and promptly fled outside.

  Stupid fucking girl.

  Still tired, Addie stumbled over the threshold onto the porch outside. Joanna was headed toward the narrow dirt road, legs kicking, arms pumping.

  Am I really losing sleep over this?

  She chased after her, keeping quiet until she’d left the yard and was on the road out, not wanting her voice to draw Nuala’s attention.

  “Joanna!” she called. “Would you stop!?”

  Just as before when she’d chased her to the pond, it didn’t take too long before she was gaining. After a minute, she was close enough to grab her by the hair if she wanted. She settled for the sleeve of her shirt instead.

  “Joanna, for fuck’s sake, stop!”

  “Leave me alone!” Joanna shrieked and spun on her. Addie ducked back, afraid she’d hit her again like before. How many times now have I chased after this idiot? she wondered. Why am I still?

  “What are you doing? Why now?”

  Joanna clapped her hands to her face, exasperated. “I don’t want to do it!” she cried. “I don’t want any part of this!”

  Addie took a moment to catch her breath. They were both stopped in the road and Joanna didn’t seem to be going any farther. Not surprising, Addie thought.

  “Did you wake me up because you wanted me to come, or because you wanted this dramatic scene where I try to stop you?”

  “Oh, you don’t know anything about anything…”

  Addie watched her, bent over wheezing, hands on her knees, on the verge of collapsing or crying or both, and Lyle’s words floated through her head like ink on a page. And for a moment… they made a strange sense.

  “It isn’t your fault, Joanna.”

  Joanna turned and faced the road out, toward the black, winding mouth of the forest ahead. She bent over again, her breath raspy.

  “What… are you talking about…?”

  “It’s not your fault you’re a coward.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know you’re scared shitless. You’re only sixteen, you’re allowed to be a frightened little girl sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

  “You trying to piss me off or what?”

  “I’m just saying… there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  She turned to face Addie again. It would take ages before she caught her breath, it seemed.

  “You think you know everything, don’t you…”

  “No, but I’m not dumb, either. You pretend to be this tough person, like you’re the only one of us with your head on straight, but you don’t hide your fear well at all. Everyone sees through it. Not even you believe it.”

  “Don’t tell me what I believe.”

  “It’s okay, though. It really is.”

  Joanna paced off into the grass a ways, hands on her hips.

  “The biggest reason I think it’s so obvious is because we all feel it. All of us. I’m scared as shit, too.”

  Joanna looked back, scowling. “You are?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Joanna took a deep breath with her face tilted toward the sky. Keeping her eyes on the night, she exhaled. Addie watched her from behind, waiting for her to say anything at all.

  “There aren’t any stars here.” Joanna turned in a slow circle. “You ever notice?”

  Addie stood next to her. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  Joanna faced Addie. “What are you afraid of, then?”

  “I’m afraid of a lot. But…” She paused, wanting to give a genuine answer. “Mostly I’m afraid of not knowing where I’m headed. I’m… afraid of being alone when I get wherever that is.”

  Joanna thought about that for a minute. “What about this place?”

  “I really don’t know. I think I’m more intrigued than scared. And if I’m being honest with you and myself, I think part of me is almost glad to be here simply because I’m not alone anymore. I’m more scared of going home because at least when I’m here, there’s some kind of purpose to everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The doctor and Nuala seem to think there’s something wrong with us that needs to be mended, and it’s occurring to me now that maybe I can be mended, even if I don’t know what exactly is broken.”

  “Obviously something.”

  Joanna wore a sly smile. Addie returned it.

  “What are you scared of?”

  “Oh, jeez, I don’t know…”

  “Hey, I answered, you can give me something back.”

  After a pause, she said, “I just wanted to be done with all this…”

  “With what?”

  Joanna shook her head, eyes bulging as she tried to net whatever thought escaped her.

  “With life! I just wanted to be done.”

  “Do you really mean that? You’re only sixteen…”

  “And you’re only twenty-however-much. Not a huge difference. Do you suddenly think after all of Nuala’s bullshit that trying to kill yourself was a mistake?”

  Addie didn’t know how to answer. It was easier seeing someone else and analyzing their situation than it was to dig through her own mental minefield.

  “I don’t think it’s possible to know. It’s hard to say without predicting the future, which we can’t.”

  They scuffed the dirt in the grass for a minute or two, gazing toward the forest and back to the property with thoughtful eyes. It seemed clear to Addie that Joanna wasn’t going anywhere. But maybe she needed to gather those thoughts for herself now.

  “What are you thinking?” Addie asked.

  Joanna mumbled something, and when Addie asked her to repeat herself she realized she was on the brink of tears.

  “I don’t really want to go home, either,” she choked.

  Addie considered touching her arm, something to console her, but refrained.

  “Why not? You can tell me.”

  “I don’t really have anyone looking for me like I said.” She wiped her cheeks and licked her wet lips. She gulped. “At least not anyone I’d like to be looking for me.”

  “The other night at the fire you said—”

  “I know. I lied. I don’t go to movies with my friends. I don’t have friends. I don’t have a bunch of family worried about me. Just my mom and dad, and I’m a disappointment to them anyway. They probably think I bailed. Disappearing would probably be a weight off their shoulders.”

  Addie had an impulse to reassure her, but she didn’t. After all, she didn’t know Joanna at all or her parents. She knew what it was like to have a parent who might
genuinely hate their child.

  “We’re not so different,” Addie said. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have anyone looking for me.”

  “You probably think I’m the biggest asshole…”

  Addie laughed, and Joanna regarded her warily. “I think that’s something everyone here has in common. Except maybe Bud. I’m having a hard time figuring out how someone like him ended up here with the rest of us…”

  “You two know each other, don’t you?”

  Guilt flashed across Addie’s face. “What makes you think that?”

  “You’re just different with each other, I noticed. Like you’ve met before.”

  Addie scratched the back of her neck. “What do you say we head back? I’m beat.”

  “Oh come on, you can tell me.”

  Addie started up the road toward the property and Joanna followed.

  “Maybe some other time.”

  They were almost to the yard. Joanna stopped.

  “I’m scared of what I’m going to see,” she blurted. “I don’t want to get in that tub.”

  “You saw Bud get in and out. Nothing bad happened.”

  “Not that we know. He didn’t come out of his room all day. I don’t want to see whatever it’s got to show me.”

  “I don’t think any of us want to get in. But what choice do—”

  “I already saw something in the water…” Joanna chewed her thumbnail anxiously. “That night we ran, when we found the pond… I slipped and my foot went in the water. Just that was enough to see something I didn’t want to see.”

  Addie remembered the way Joanna had screamed and crawled from the pond into the grass. At the time she’d been confused… and it bothered her now that an explanation like ‘the pond water gave me visions’ made sense.

  “What did you see?”

  Joanna didn’t answer.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, not really. I just don’t want to see any more. I can’t handle it. I know I can’t.”

  “I can’t convince you to do anything,” Addie said. “And really, I don’t want to do it either. But I probably will. Call me hopeful, or desperate, but I’m starting to trust the doctor…”

  “Crazy is what I’d call you.”