Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (22 page)

Neely sat back down on the couch and rested his head against the wall.“I think he’s gotten himself addicted to the glow, like it’s some sort of drug. He keeps running away, and maybe it
is
because he wants to stop using it. I don’t know. But my brother gets bored, or meets someone he doesn’t like, or gets fired up by some injustice, and . . .”Neely looked at me.And smiled.But it was sad this time. A sad crooked smile that matched his crooked nose, and it looked good on him. “And people end up dead. Always.” 

I sat down on the sofa, right next to him, and we stayed like that for a while, our arms touching. I smelled the ocean, like always, and Neely’s high noon-ness, and I felt . . . better. 

And then the back of my neck tingled again. 

I wished I could see, suddenly.The kitchen corners were full of shadows, and I hadn’t turned on any lights. Was River out there in the night, watching us? Or was I still just spooked? Maybe I’d imagined the laughter in the attic. 

Maybe I’d been scared insane. 

Was that possible? 

I suspected that it was. 

But no . . . Jack had heard the laughter too. 

“I don’t know what to do, other than make him come back home,”Neely said finally.“Even though he’ll just run away again.” 

I didn’t meet Neely’s eyes. I didn’t tell him about the damn, stupid ache I felt at the thought of River leaving. I didn’t trust it. 

Neely got to his feet again, put his Windbreaker back on, and zipped it up to his chin. “Violet, I’ve got a favor to ask.” 

“Okay . . .” 

“I think it’s great what’s going on between you two.You and River.” He looked at me, and I knew from the glint in his eyes that he was thinking about how he first saw me, rumpled, in River’s bed. “But. I think you need to stop letting River touch you. Hear me out. I have a feeling, an intuition, that the only way for River to get better is to stop using the glow. Except when he absolutely needs to. So you have to stop letting him touch you. Can you do this for him?” 

I shook my head. “Neely, I’m lost. What does River’s touching me have to do with the glow?” 

Neely just stared at me. “You mean you don’t know? He didn’t tell you?” He pounded his fist on the table, hard and fast and loud. One of the candles fell over and went out. Half the kitchen fell into shadow. I was still sitting on the couch and he loomed over me. I got to my feet and he
still
loomed over me. He was just so
tall.
Even his voice sounded tall. “River needs to touch people to use the glow.He can’t make you see something unless he’s had some kind of physical contact in the recent past. There used to be a glow window of about an hour or two but now he can make it last for days sometimes. His glow is . . . changing. Becoming stronger. Or weaker. Who knows.” 

He smacked the table again, and the other candle went out. The kitchen was dark now. I could still see Neely, but not well. 

“I can’t
believe
he didn’t tell you.He had you in his bed, touching you, making you see, making you feel . . . who knows what, and he didn’t even tell you how his glow worked?”Neely tilted his head back,and I thought he was going to laugh again. But, instead, he let out an anguished, frustrated kind of yell. I jumped back, startled. 

Neely’s yell started my thoughts running, running wild— 

River, grabbing Sunshine’s elbow. River, showing Jack how to use his yo-yo, hand on his shoulder, River, wrapping his arms around me in the cemetery, kissing me, River shaking Gianni’s hand at the pizza joint, River taking the glass of whisky, River’s fingers next to Luke’s on the Ouija board pointer, River kissing me, touching me, touching me, touching me . . .
 

“It’s wrong. It’s bad for you, Violet. He can make you think things.Things that aren’t true. I love him. But I’ll be the first to say that he’s unstable. And dangerous. More dangerous than anyone I’ve ever known, or will ever know.
You have to stop letting him touch you.
” 

But I was barely listening because my brain was all smashed up and my thoughts were shattered and broken and bloody on the floor.And I knew that Neely was sensing it, sensing the sad, sick feeling that was coming off of me. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care if he saw. 

I hated River. 

I
hated
him. 

N
eely left. He didn’t want to. I could tell. But he was mad at River too. We both needed to cool off. I sat alone on the edge of the kitchen sofa for a while. In 

the dark. Long enough for my anger to shift into exhaustion. Long enough to feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. Someone was in the room with me. 

I felt a warm body slide onto the couch beside me. I sighed. “River.” 

Relief. And anger. Comingling together. I wanted to 

shove him off the couch, make him hit the floor. But my hands wouldn’t move.And then River got up anyway and lit a candle. He watched me for a second. Then nodded. “So Neely showed you the scar.” 

“Were you eavesdropping?” 

“Sort of.” He paused. “You know, every time I look at Neely, the image comes back to me. My brother covered in flames. Because of what I did. Because of what I can do.” 

River reached down for my hand. He put it to his heart. I yanked it back. 

He sighed.“I’m hurt,Vi.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, the pink rosy haze that always surrounded the thought of me in your mind—it’s gone. Now my color is more blood red, with streaks of black in it. Which in my experience usually means fear. Or hate.Which is it,Vi?” 

“Both,” I said, in a tired voice. 

“Was it the Rattlesnake Albee story?” 

I didn’t say anything. 

“The suicide?” 

“Do you know where I was tonight, River? Do you know what happened to me? Do you want to know why I smell like smoke?” 

“You went to the movie with Neely. Did you have a bonfire afterward?” 

“No. Gianni came and found me while we were watching
Brief Encounter
. He wanted to show me something. It was Jack, tied to a beam in the Glenship attic. He was going to throw rocks at him, River. Cut him.
Set him on fire.
” 

I stood up. Talking about Jack tied up and scared was making me lose my apathy.My cheeks felt flushed and my anger was coming back, fresh and tall and strong. 

“Get out, River. Leave.
I mean it
.” 

River didn’t move.His eyes were dead serious for once, and hurt,and even a little . . .betrayed.Could his eyes lie? Could they lie as well as his mouth? 

“Violet, that wasn’t me. I would never use the glow to hurt an innocent kid. How could you think me capable of that?” 

“You made Jack see the Devil.And you made his father slit his throat in the town square.” 

“True,” he said. He put his hands in the air, as if he was pushing away the truth. “You’re right. You’re right. Damn it. Look, I’m not sure what happened at Glenship Manor, and I don’t know what’s wrong with Gianni, but it had nothing to do with me. Are you okay, Vi? Is Jack?” 

“I heard you laughing, River
.
”
My cheeks were on fire and the fury was flowing through me now.“In the attic. I
heard
you. And then I find out from Neely that you have to touch people to make them glow. How many lies is that now,River? How out of control is this glow of yours? Because part of me thinks I should save the world and brick you up in the cellar.And I haven’t made up my mind not to do it yet. You had better say something convincing. Soon.” 

River leaned his back against the kitchen door frame and sighed. He looked different, suddenly. Not sly or catlike. Just young, and sad, and kind of hopeless, which threw me, because that was
not
how River looked. 

“You want to know why I love Neely?”he asked me.“We fight and fight,and yet,his color of me never changes.I’m always a bright yellow.No matter what I’ve done.And I’ve done a lot.He’s never been afraid of me.Never hated me. You got to love a person for that. Unconditional devotion is blue-moon rare.” 

I watched him leaning for a bit, and didn’t answer. 

“Do you want to come up with me to the attic?”River asked,at last,in a soft voice.“I’ll stop lying,”he said.“And I’ll start talking.” 

“All right,” I said. Just like that. Because . . . because what the hell. River was leaving and it was for the best. One last night talking wouldn’t hurt. Besides, there was a part of him, the non-glowing part, that I still liked, despite everything . . .the bonfire,his taking my side against Luke, and cooking good food, and the origami animals, and the sleeping with his arms around me . . . 

Ten minutes later, River and I sat on opposite ends of the old velvet couch in the attic,listening to Robert Johnson. I loved the static crunching sound that ran on in the background of all these old-timey recordings. I breathed in deep and smelled salt on the breeze,and,underneath that, the smoke that still clung to my hair. The sea wind blew in through the round windows, which opened sideways like a coin spinning on its side,and it made the candles flicker with the regularity of a heartbeat. 

River slipped a few purple-black grapes into his mouth. I had brought up some food from the kitchen, knowing that he probably hadn’t eaten all day.And knowing that I shouldn’t care. But damn it, I did anyway. River grabbed the triangle of Gouda, cut a slice, and handed it to me. I took it from him,careful not to let our fingers touch.And then River put his arms behind his head and leaned back into the couch. 

“I heard Neely tell you not to touch me.” 

I looked at him. “River, I don’t remember what happened last night. I don’t remember anything after we kissed in the kitchen. I woke up in your bed this morning feeling dizzy, and not even knowing if I had any clothes on. I don’t trust you, River. I don’t. You’re a liar. And an addict.” I paused. “Why couldn’t I remember going to sleep? Or anything that might have happened before that?” 

River shrugged. “Look, yes, I used the glow on you at first, to calm you down. You were upset about Daniel Leap. I was
helping
you. I didn’t intend for you to forget what happened. The glow just does that sometimes.” 

I absorbed this new information for a minute.“So first you confessed to me that you’re having trouble controlling your gift. And then Gianni
went mad and kidnapped Jack tonight and I heard that laughter and you say it wasn’t you
.” I gritted my teeth and slowed down. “Well, I guess I have to believe you.You’re a liar.And yet I have to believe you. If I don’t believe you, then I have to do something about it. Like get you drunk and then drown you in the ocean before you get Jack killed.” 

River lifted a hand shiny with olive oil, stuck it into his hair and looked at me.“That’s pretty much the way of it,Vi.” 

“ You shall love your crooked neighbor with your crooked heart,”
I said. 

“What?” 

“It’s from a poem by Auden. It’s something Freddie used to say sometimes.” 

“What’s it mean?” 

“That nobody is perfect, I think.” 

“Well,”River replied.“That’s the truest thing said round the world today.” 

We sat by each other, not talking, and not touching. Robert Johnson began to sing “Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.” He played the song slow, and melancholy, nothing like the Cab Calloway original. 

I looked at River and listened to the waves crash outside, and figured that Robert was singing right to me, right then. 

The air started feeling heavy, and thunder burst into the quiet like a drum roll.A storm was beginning.The record stopped, the wind got even colder, and the feeling in the attic changed.It became freezing and black,all in the span of a hundred heartbeats. It was like a dream shifting into a nightmare.Usually I loved thunderstorms.But I wasn’t in the mood for one just then. 

“Neely is right,though,”River said.His face had become dark and raw, with the beginning of the storm, and I wondered if I could trust it.“Neely’s right, and I should keep my glowing hands off of you. He’s always right, the bastard.Violet, can I tell you something?” 

“Yes.” 

Thunder crashed. 

River flinched. “I hate thunderstorms. I ditched my uptight private school and ran off to New Mexico a few months ago.It didn’t rain.Not once.I didn’t dream about burning up Neely.I didn’t dream about anything.I haven’t slept that well until . . . until I got here. And met you. 

“My mother wasn’t an archeologist, or a chef,”he continued, after a few seconds of silence. “She was a bighearted socialite who died five years ago. She drowned at sea, like a character in a poem. Fell off a yacht in the middle of a storm. I was there. I watched her go over the side, watched as she hit the black water and disappeared.” 

Freddie died five years ago too. I knew about missing and I knew about death.“I’m sorry,”I said.And I meant it. 

“She used to tell me that I didn’t have to be like him. Like my dad. She said I should be compassionate, even to people who didn’t deserve it. But Neely takes after her, in that way. Not me. He . . . he took her death hard. That’s when he starting fighting—really fighting. It was every day, for a while.” River ran his hands through his hair and leaned back into the couch again.“But he didn’t get punished for it. I did.” 

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t touch him. And I didn’t let him touch me. 

“A year after my mom died, I got the glow,” River said. His eyes were closed. “I got the glow, and then I did something stupid. I had the best intentions, but you know what they say about those.” 

River opened his eyes, sighed, and closed them again. “It was my father’s birthday. My father, well, he’d loved my mother.
Really
loved her,despite all his affairs.Despite all the times he got distracted by the young pretty things that threw themselves in his path, because of his money. My parents had been best friends since they were children. High school sweethearts. Her death about killed him. So I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea for a birthday present, stupid kid that I was. I found him in his office,sitting in the sunshine and staring at the wall.I went up to William Redding II and put my hand on his. I let him see my mother.I let him see her for . . .for a long time. Until he was crying. And then I pulled my hand away.”