The stream

This isn't finished and I need help, I just can't get past the point that it is at now. Any suggestions?

Summer in the interior of British Colombia was viciously hot. Any sweat or spit that touched the ground was quickly sucked up by the brown, dying grass that dominated acres of land. Mosquitos, snakes, flies and all other critters would flock to shade and moisture desperate to escape the deadly heat.

It was days like this when my neighbor Mike and I would meet up along the creek that flowed trough both our properties. I would usually stop by my favourite boulder that overhung the deeper parts of the stream. Parched tall grass walled it’s banks.

I slipped of my shoes and tiptoed the rest of the way, careful to avoid nettle and spiders. I sat down and dangled my feet off the edge allowing the crisp, chilling water to wipe away all the dirt and grime folded into my skin.

The creek was special to me. It was that place you can go when the world becomes too much to bear. It was shallow, mostly knee deep glassy water flowing over small rocks and silt and sand. Being glacial fed and provided necessary chilling on an otherwise boiling day. A tree on the other side of the creek leaned over and scraped the water with its thin finger-like branches. On the side of the creek that I came from there was fields of hay and cows, on the other was a thin forest made up mostly of willow and tall, dry trees that didn’t look like they’d live much longer. The scent of grass and bovine gasses was carried by the hot summer breeze.

Mike came not long after I’d arrived. I could hear the grass parting with a swishing sound as he came nearer.

“Hey Mike.” I said.

“Hey Tom.” He said. We never called each other by our full names. He took off his shoes and sat beside me. I felt along the grooves of the rock to find a skipping stone.

“How you doing?” I skipped the stone across the creek.

“Fine.” Mike said, combing his fingers through his knotted black hair. He had a small nose but big ears with two large chestnut eyes. “My horse gave me a heck of a beating yesterday.” Mike practiced rodeo, a sport I would never embrace. I just grunted. I never thought twice about his bruises, not when I was eleven.

We sat for a minute watching a pair of trout weave their way up stream.

“My grandpa said there’s gold in the river.” He paused studying me. “Do you think there’s any?”

I peered through the clear stream for a moment as if it would suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

“If there was any don’t you think we’d have found it by now?”

“Were you looking?”Mike pointed out.

I rubbed my chin for a moment. “I suppose there would have to be some, it’s more a question of how much.” This seemed to make sense.

“Why don’t you go check.” He said, giving me a two handed shove. I gave a startled yell, cut off when I crashed into the water. The trout darted away frightened and I resurfaced, water streaming of my face. Mike was laughing so hard he clutched his stomach. I wiped the water off my face. With a great lunge I caught ahold of his forearm pulling him off balance. He didn’t stop laughing until he splashed into the water. He started laughing again as he stood up. I started laughing too.

“That was actually kinda refreshing.” Mike said wiping his sopping hair out of his face. I swatted a mosquito off my arm. Droplets of water clung on to my oily skin. My second hand tee-shirt was bloated with moisture and clung to me like a giant leech, but it acted as a second skin to fend off the sun. “It is a bit.” I agreed.

Mike separated his fingers and dipped them into the chilling water to run past them. He reached down and picked up a handful of silt, sand and pebbles. He flattened them out on his palm

“Really though, I wonder if there is any gold ‘round here.” His eyes glinted with curiosity and desire.

“Dunno” I muttered. A loud, low, resonating bong sound came from my house up hill. My mum rang the gong whenever it was time for dinner.

“Gotta go,” I sighed. “Dinner.”

“So should I” Mike said. He flung the sand away and cleaned his hands in the stream. “Hey Tom,” He turned up to look at me. “‘round here we usually say supper.”

“Thanks,” I nodded, slightly annoyed. Four months after moving here from Ottawa and I still felt out of place.

I hoisted myself back onto the boulder. The trout had come back, I noticed, gliding carelessly under the shade of a green leafed maple, the only tree that seemed to have leaves in this barren wasteland. I paused for a minute, my toe curling around the cold water as if to catch the essence of summer. Mike wasted no time and passed me my shoes. I reluctantly pulled them on, not bothering to tie them. I stuffed my socks into my pockets, without them the soles of my shoes acted like sponges releasing a refreshing gush of cool, foul smelling liquid every step.

I stood up, pulling off my swollen shirt and wringing it out. Pin drops of water rolled off my back and stomach. I slapped my tee-shirt over my shoulder, not bothering to put it back on.

“Well,” Mike said. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay, see ya.”

“Bye.”

The sun was beating at my back as I moseyed back to the house. With the roar of the river, the drone of hundreds of insects, the blazing sun and my youthful spirit it was easy to drown my worries for a while. We’d booth walk away easier than before.

❖ ❖ ❖

I was first to the rock that overhung the river again the next day. The heat was relentless. Sweat seeped through my skin and into my clothes making them sticky and pungent. I began our daily ritual without Mike. I unlaced my shoes and pulled off my filthy socks. My hands got scratched on the rock as I lowered myself into a sitting position and dangled my feet off the edge, allowing the glacial fed water to cleanse them.

A branch snapped on the other side of the river. My head snapped in that direction. A crowded willow forest blocked my view. Our neighbors had called us yesterday to say that they’d seen a cougar yesterday. My heart went off like a jackhammer. I wondered what I would do if a cougar emerged fangs barred, ready to strike.

A doe strode onto the beach instead. She was lean and lithe with an otter fur coat. Small hooves capped off nimble legs with two large brown eyes above her minuscule, moist black nose. She raised her head suddenly to study me. I didn’t move, barely allowing my lungs to draw a breath. The doe bowed her head lower, black-white tail twitching nervously. She took a few tender steps forwards, hooves clacking loudly on the river side stones, and began lapping up water with a bubble-gum pink tongue.

Her ears twitched spastically, she reared her head suddenly, eyes alert. She tensed up and sprang back into the wood. I let out a breath, disappointed that she’d left.

An explosion of quail bursting out from grass announced the arrival of Mike.

“Hey Mike.”

“Hey Tom.”

I toyed with a tear in my jeans.

“How ya doing”

“Fine.” He said, then reconsidered. “Tired.” He leaned back so he was lying with his back on the stone.

“I saw a deer.”

“So?” Mike held up his hand to shield his face from the sun.

“It was neat that’s all” I gnawed on my thumbnail. I hadn’t quite adapted to the abundance of wildlife in my new home. I sat back and watched a kingfisher dive into the water.

“Well.” Mike sighed.

“Well?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m so bored.” Mike sat up. “Let’s do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know” He paused. “I wonder if there’s any oil in the fields.”

“Maybe” I shrugged. “I’m hot” I said changing the subject.

Mike grunted. He didn’t seem quite right today.

“Me too.” He slid of the rock into the stream. I followed him. The refreshing chill of the stream crept up my legs. He picked up a rock from the riverbed and threw it upstream.

“When I grow up I’m going to live as far away from here as possible.” His face was heavy and his eyebrows furrowed. There was a hint of ice in his voice that made me shiver.

“Oh?” I said. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugged but didn’t look at me.

“Are you ok man?” I glanced at him.

He sucked in air and looked up at me. “You know just forget I said anything. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay” I said. “Like what?”

“I dunno, aliens?”

“Aliens?”

“Yeah” Mike scratched his eyebrow. “My sister swore they abducted her last night. They tried to take my dad too but he was too heavy for their tractor beam.”

I laughed. Even though Mike was my best friend and neighbor I’d never met his dad. While the rest of his family were more to the scrawny side, I got the impression that his father was a overweight, lethargic man that spent most of his time watching t.v. Think Homer Simpson but balder, fatter and lazier. Our dad’s had a lot in common.

Mike’s face split into a grin. He opened his mouth to speak but the sound of the gong cut him off.

“I’d better go,” I said. “Dinner waits for no man.” I recited words that my mother had told me once when I’d been late coming home.

“So should I.” Mike mumbled. I pulled myself up onto the rock. The bottoms of my worn out jeans clung to my skin. A gust of wind pushed trough the tall yellow-brown grass providing some relief from unyielding heat. “‘You free tomorrow?”

“Sure. Same time, same place?” I said standing up and pulling on my shoes.

“Yup.”

“Well, see you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

I walked away allowing my fingers to trail through the thin hair-like bristles that topped the thirsty grass. The breeze blew down the back of my neck, cooling me off. We’d both walk away easier than before.

❖ ❖ ❖

I found myself wading through the chilling ford the other day. My rolled up pant legs soon became damp with river mist spraying up my shins. The sun was bright today, blindingly so, clouds were scarce during the summer and today was no exception, baby blue conquered the sky like a fresh sheet on a newly made bed.

Mike was slouched on the rock, legs swinging back and forth like a pendulum. He was throwing rocks into the stream.

“Hi Mike.” I said.

“Hey Tom.” He said.

As I got closer I noticed there was something wrong with his eye. It was swollen and green, some kind of liquid was oozing from it.

“Woah,” I said. “What’s wrong with your eye?”

He grimaced “Nothing.” I hoisted myself onto the boulder.

“Doesn’t look like like nothing.”

“My horse bucked me off.”

“Your horse did that to you? That’s awful.” My mouth gaped open. “When?”

“Yesterday”He said. “Let’s stop talking about this”

“But Mike,” I said, gesturing to his wound. “It’s still bleeding.”

“Is it?” He looked dazed and conflicted. His eyebrows strung together.

“How did your horse do that to you?”

“Well...” He paused. “My dad might have helped.”

“Really, what did he do?”

Mike laid his hands in his lap and looked down. “He gave me this.”

“What? Your dad did that to you?” I shouted. Mike nodded carefully. His big, brown, moist eyes engulfed me. Big chestnut portals into his soul full of fear. He looked so fragile, so frightened. He reminded me of the doe I’d seen the other day, tender and cautious.

This was an impossible concept to grasp for me. Although my father hardly acknowledged my existence he would never hit me. A bird squawked, filling the silence I had created.

I gulped. “Jimmeny cricket, that’s horrible.” I said. “Does you’re mum know?”

He snorted. “How could she not.” He said.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry.” I paused. “We should tell someone.”

“No!” He shouted. “No one can know.” His hands were shaking in front of him, as if he were begging me. “I never should have told you.” He whispered looking down at the water. A mosquito landed on the back of my neck. I slowly reached up and brushed it away, not taking my eyes off Mike. “Come on,” He said changing the subject. “Let’s do something.”

“Okay.” I said. “Like what”

“I dunno, what we do every day.” He slid into the crystal water and let out a sigh of relief. I followed him in.

“Do you want to talk about this?” I asked.

“Nope.” He swallowed then turned to me. “I’d like it better if we just didn’t mention it, Okay?”

“Okay.”

And that was that.

The sun blasted down upon us with the ferocity of a dragon. We stood in the stream immobile for a moment. Mike wouldn’t meet my gaze.