“Earth to Lauren,” Karen said.
“Sorry, what?”
“We’re going up on the dock. Want to come?”
I hesitated. “Okay.”
I followed the group, wishing I had made myself walk to the end of the dock before the party. A tall guy, one of Jason’s friends, was giving the girls a leg up, but when it was my turn, he withdrew his hand.
“Well, look who it is.”
“Hi,” I said, and climbed onto the dock unassisted.
Jason’s friend leaped up behind me.
“Want to play tag?” he asked. “We’re getting up a game of water tag.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I was following Karen.”
When I tried to move on, he stepped on my heel. “Don’t you swim?”
“I do, but I don’t want to tonight.”
“Why not tonight?” he persisted.
“I’m not in the mood. And I’m not wearing a bathing suit,” I added, walking ahead.
He caught me by the elbow. “You know how to swim better than your mother, right?”
That didn’t deserve a response. I strode toward the end of the T-shaped dock and tried to turn right, where Karen had gone. But Jason’s friend followed and deftly stepped in front of me, separating me from my group.
“Come on. You can swim in what you’re wearing.”
“I really don’t want to.”
“Water’s warm.” There was no warmth in his voice.
He took a quick step toward me, and I moved away, toward the left side of the dock. Kids lined both sides of the walkway, dangling their feet over the river. As the guy pressed forward, the only thing I could do was continue to the left. We reached the end of that part of the dock.
“Hey, everybody, look who I found,” he announced to the kids gathered in the water below us.
I gazed down at the place where my mother had died. For a moment all I could see were the dark river and blurs of swimmers looking up at me, the party lights turning their shiny skins green and orange. The faces of Jason and his teammates slowly came into focus.
“I tried to get her to come in, but she doesn’t want to play with us.”
“Aw,” one guy said mockingly.
“Snob,” said another.
“Step on her foot, Ken,” Jason suggested.
Ken moved closer to me. Feeling lightheaded, I reached for a piling to steady myself. The wood was wet and I shrank from it. It was the piling on which my mother had bled.
With a sudden move Ken pulled my knees out from under me, flipping me into the water. For a moment I was stunned by the impact and cold. The black river rushed over my head. My ears felt swollen from the surge of water. I hit bottom, kicked hard, and surfaced.
Jason and his friends encircled me. They were tall enough to keep their heads above water, but I had to tread.
Jason reached out, his wide hand coming down swiftly on my head, shoving me under. I pushed up, angry, gasping for air. Laughing faces surrounded me.
Another hand hovered, then pushed me down. I fought my way back to the surface and tried to swim away, going left, then right. Their circle tightened. They shoved me under and held me there. When I surfaced, I tried to call for help, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs. They kept pushing me down like a bobbing toy. I began to panic. The taste of river mud was in my mouth. I saw black spots, as if the darkness of the water was seeping into my brain. My stomach cramped and I doubled over.
Then a force came rushing through the water, scattering us. The circle broke. I swam through it and kept swimming, wanting to stop for breath, but not daring to. When I kicked my foot against the bottom I finally stood up, breathing hard, with the water just above my knees. Rocky was next to me.
I heard the raucous laughter behind me. “Dumb dog!”
“Smart dog,” I whispered to Rocky as we waded to shore.
Holly and Nick were standing close together at the edge of the water.
“I knew you should have put on a suit,” Holly said, smiling at me.
I stared at her. Didn’t she realize what those guys were doing? Didn’t she see how scared I was?
“They’re a mean group,” I said.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“They knew I was out of breath.”
“Oh, Lauren, they were just having fun.”
“Then their sense of fun is warped.”
She didn’t get it — she seemed amused. “The guys were teasing you. It’s how they flirt.”
I turned to Nick, but he said nothing. I wondered what he would have done if they had “teased” Nora like that. “I’m going in.”
“You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Holly asked.
“No.” The dog was still by my side. “Nick, I want to take Rocky with me. I’ll let him out later, okay?”
“He’s going to smell awful,” Holly reminded me.
“Fine,” Nick said with a shrug.
When I got to the kitchen, I gave Rocky a bowl of water and a piece of turkey. “Sorry I don’t have any waterfowl to offer you.” I found an old towel and dried him off as best I could. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, big guy,” I whispered.
Holding on to his tags so they wouldn’t jingle, I led Rocky upstairs. I heard Aunt Jule’s television and tiptoed past her bedroom. When I was a child, I told my godmother everything. It hurt not to trust her now, but I could guess what she’d say if I recounted the incident in the river. At best, she’d dismiss it, seeing it as Holly did; at worst, she’d say I was obsessed with my mother’s drowning.
Nora’s door was closed as usual. So was mine, though I didn’t remember shutting it. I opened the door and flicked on the overhead light. Rocky trotted in happily. I stood frozen in the doorway, surveying my room in disbelief.
The curtains hung half off the rod, as if someone had yanked on them furiously, each panel tied in a knot. The sheets were pulled off the bed and twisted grotesquely, their corners in knots. My bedside lamp lay on its side, its shade bent, its cord knotted. My heart necklace, muddy stockings, and the bras in my laundry hamper were all tied in knots.
Now I knew how my mother had felt — this attack was personal.
I pulled open bureau drawers. My clothes were a mess, rolled up on themselves as if someone had tried tying their clumsy shapes. In the closet, the arms of my long-sleeved shirts were knotted.
Just touching the knots made me feel creepy, but I had to get rid of them. As I untied my things, I reviewed the events of the last three days, trying to determine what was truly a threat and cause for fear. The water in the boathouse was probably stirred by a wake. The note left in my car and the brick thrown at my windshield could have been done by or for Nora, but they also could have been random pranks. It seemed likely that the harassment in the river was revenge for decking Jason at the prom. Setting aside those events, the strangest ones remained: the swing incident, the nighttime experience in the greenhouse, and these knots.
I thought about showing some of the knots to Holly, then I kept on untying. Like me, Holly saw that Nora had serious problems and she wanted those problems fixed, but the incident with Jason’s friends had made it clear — Holly read only the surface of things. I was convinced there was a lot going on beneath it. As for Frank, I didn’t see how I could talk to him about things that sounded so crazy.
I had untied everything but my heart necklace. I stared down at its tiny knots, thinking about the way the chain had crept along my neck, the way the jade plant moved on its own, and the swing rope snapped and knotted. What power was at work here? The power of my own imagination and fear — or something stranger — an invisible, dangerous thing?
