cracks with emotion: “We’d better get on back now, while we still can.”
“You sure?”
Jimmy nods, pulling the top down and latching it. I start the jets and back from the shore, turning us toward the dam.
“You remember when we found him, when he was jus’ a pup followin’ us along that river?” Jimmy asks.
I smile just thinking about it.
“You remember what ya told me?”
“Yeah, I told you to not look back.”
“Then you’s looked back yerself.”
I laugh.
“I sure did.”
“Will ya tell me again?”
“Tell you to not look back?”
“Yeah. I need you to tell me.”
I shake my head.
“I won’t tell you that, Jimmy.”
Tears well up in Jimmy’s eyes again, and he covers his face with his hands.
“Oh, God,” he moans, sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I’m cryin’ like a baby.”
“It’s okay to cry,” I say, touching Jimmy’s shoulder. “He means a lot to you.”
“He was all I had when you left me on my own,” he sobs.
What he says hits my chest like a hammer.
“I know I was a jerk,” I say, not strong enough to take the blow, “but it was you who left, Jimmy.”
“You coulda come after me,” he stutters.
Now I’m crying, too.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I really am. I’m sick over it still. I was all caught up with Hannah and my own stupid hormones. You have to understand, I’d never even met a girl before who liked me. I betrayed you, and I’m sorry.”
“I know it,” he says. “We each done stupid stuff.”
I wipe away my tears and focus on the water ahead. I think about when Jimmy took off with Junior from the lake house and made camp in the woods. I remember how Gloria came to cut my hair and how I asked about Jimmy, and she told me that Jimmy had been asking about me, too. And I remember him pulling me from that river and saving my life, and how he said it was Junior who followed me. I crank the wheel and whip a one-eighty and drop the throttle and speed back toward shore.
Jimmy looks up from his hands.
“What are ya doin’?”
“I’m looking back again.”
Jimmy’s face breaks into a huge smile.
We’re still pretty far from shore when we run up on Junior swimming after us. He’s obviously exhausted from paddling, and I doubt he’d have had enough energy to even make it back to dry land. Jimmy pops the top and leans out and scoops him dripping from the water and pulls him into the boat. Junior lies limp in his arms and licks his face. I peel off my shirt and hand it over, and Jimmy uses it to dry Junior’s coat while I pull the top down and continue on toward the dam.
When we arrive back at the underground docks, no one appears to have noticed that we even left except the professor who pops his head out from the submarine and says:
“I was about to start offering odds on whether or not you two had run off for good.”
“Where is everybody?” I ask.
“Red’s still snoring loud enough to wake all of Holocene II, and Hannah’s in the shower. Why don’t you boys pull that boat up on the lift there, since it won’t be needed while we’re gone.”
After we’ve stored the boat, Jimmy takes Junior on board the submarine and hunts up a spot for his bed. I hang my wet shirt to dry and, as much as I hate to do it, change back into my zipsuit. Red arrives shortly with a renewed enthusiasm, even laughing at himself when I ask if he wants to count the supplies one last time. The professor tinkers with the controls, emerging several minutes later to announce that we’re set for departure. We all gather on the submarine deck and wait for Hannah.
“I’ll go get her,” I suggest.
“She’ll be along,” the professor says. “Give her a little time to prepare. It’s a long journey for a young woman crammed in here with four men and a fox.”
And soon enough, she does come.
She walks toward the dock with her head bowed and her long, red hair, still damp from her shower, hanging over the shoulders of her gray Holocene II
“You sure?”
Jimmy nods, pulling the top down and latching it. I start the jets and back from the shore, turning us toward the dam.
“You remember when we found him, when he was jus’ a pup followin’ us along that river?” Jimmy asks.
I smile just thinking about it.
“You remember what ya told me?”
“Yeah, I told you to not look back.”
“Then you’s looked back yerself.”
I laugh.
“I sure did.”
“Will ya tell me again?”
“Tell you to not look back?”
“Yeah. I need you to tell me.”
I shake my head.
“I won’t tell you that, Jimmy.”
Tears well up in Jimmy’s eyes again, and he covers his face with his hands.
“Oh, God,” he moans, sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I’m cryin’ like a baby.”
“It’s okay to cry,” I say, touching Jimmy’s shoulder. “He means a lot to you.”
“He was all I had when you left me on my own,” he sobs.
What he says hits my chest like a hammer.
“I know I was a jerk,” I say, not strong enough to take the blow, “but it was you who left, Jimmy.”
“You coulda come after me,” he stutters.
Now I’m crying, too.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I really am. I’m sick over it still. I was all caught up with Hannah and my own stupid hormones. You have to understand, I’d never even met a girl before who liked me. I betrayed you, and I’m sorry.”
“I know it,” he says. “We each done stupid stuff.”
I wipe away my tears and focus on the water ahead. I think about when Jimmy took off with Junior from the lake house and made camp in the woods. I remember how Gloria came to cut my hair and how I asked about Jimmy, and she told me that Jimmy had been asking about me, too. And I remember him pulling me from that river and saving my life, and how he said it was Junior who followed me. I crank the wheel and whip a one-eighty and drop the throttle and speed back toward shore.
Jimmy looks up from his hands.
“What are ya doin’?”
“I’m looking back again.”
Jimmy’s face breaks into a huge smile.
We’re still pretty far from shore when we run up on Junior swimming after us. He’s obviously exhausted from paddling, and I doubt he’d have had enough energy to even make it back to dry land. Jimmy pops the top and leans out and scoops him dripping from the water and pulls him into the boat. Junior lies limp in his arms and licks his face. I peel off my shirt and hand it over, and Jimmy uses it to dry Junior’s coat while I pull the top down and continue on toward the dam.
When we arrive back at the underground docks, no one appears to have noticed that we even left except the professor who pops his head out from the submarine and says:
“I was about to start offering odds on whether or not you two had run off for good.”
“Where is everybody?” I ask.
“Red’s still snoring loud enough to wake all of Holocene II, and Hannah’s in the shower. Why don’t you boys pull that boat up on the lift there, since it won’t be needed while we’re gone.”
After we’ve stored the boat, Jimmy takes Junior on board the submarine and hunts up a spot for his bed. I hang my wet shirt to dry and, as much as I hate to do it, change back into my zipsuit. Red arrives shortly with a renewed enthusiasm, even laughing at himself when I ask if he wants to count the supplies one last time. The professor tinkers with the controls, emerging several minutes later to announce that we’re set for departure. We all gather on the submarine deck and wait for Hannah.
“I’ll go get her,” I suggest.
“She’ll be along,” the professor says. “Give her a little time to prepare. It’s a long journey for a young woman crammed in here with four men and a fox.”
And soon enough, she does come.
She walks toward the dock with her head bowed and her long, red hair, still damp from her shower, hanging over the shoulders of her gray Holocene II
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