gravity like he'd done before. It followed the rapids, bouncing along in what seemed like slow motion as the front bobbed up and down in the water. The boat then caught the current as it swept around rock and sand in the center of the waterway and shot toward the bank. Paul leaned left, trying to draw the boat parallel with the bank to lessen the impact. The boat turned, but not enough, and hit hard against the dark mud, dislodging a large hunk that fell into the front of the canoe. Paul leaned quickly back and forth, catching his balance before the current caught the tail end of the boat and whipped it around, sending him backwards into the downed tree. The boat slid under the first few large branches, but Paul did not duck in time and a large branch caught him while the boat kept moving. He banged against the side of the canoe, upsetting it as he fell into the water.
He was about 40 yards from the sandbar where the group stood. Eric and Charlie dropped their poles and ran to the edge of the water to watch their father. Paul bobbed to the surface and saw Carl and Mike climb in a canoe to get him.
The water was deep here, and he paddled his arms, trying to pull himself over to the upturned canoe. He turned, looking for the boys. He saw them, and he saw Joyce, who also was at the water’s edge now, her gaze shifting from him to the men in the boat and back. He pictured himself on the bar, shivering against the chill with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Joyce would be her old self for a while, a moment, perhaps, worrying over him until her mothering instincts were overruled by something else at work inside her. He blocked her out, focusing on his boys, seeing them alone on the bank, fishing, the bluffs towering above them like sentinels. He closed his eyes and slid below the surface for a moment. He knew he'd always need to fight like hell to make sure he could still see the boys. He would. He'd fight like hell.
Sinking in the Sea of Love
The two hulking men—boys, really—had declined Janet's offer of tea, so she sat down in the chair across from them, smoothing her skirt with her hands.
"So, you said you're friends of my husband's?" she asked. The men were on the loveseat, trying to avoid touching each other as their weight and gravity combined to make them slide ever so slightly toward the middle of the cushion. They were in the rarely used living room of her modest brownstone. This was of course where you entertained guests, and she was embarrassed that she hadn't had the chance to take the plastic covers off the furniture. That's to be expected with unannounced visitors, she supposed.
"Not exactly. We're just looking for Benny," said the one who had introduced himself as Nico. The other, Vince, sat quietly, cracking his knuckles. "We, uh, need to talk to him."
"With him, dear," she said.
"Huh?"
"You need to talk with him, not to him. I assume you're going to let him speak?" After 35 years in the classroom, Janet found herself unable to control correcting young people when they misspoke.
"Right. With him."
"Well, Benny isn't home at the moment. Works awfully hard, you know. If you knew him, I'm sure he would have told you that many times. He probably just stopped off for a drink on his way home. Needs to unwind, he says," she said. "Now, if you don't mind my asking, what do you need to discuss with Benny?"
"It's just business, ma'am," Nico said. There's an, um, debt we need to discuss."
Janet grabbed a coaster and set her teacup down—just because they didn't want any didn't mean she was going to deny herself—and leaned forward.
"Oh, my. Did Benny buy something from you young men? He's always talking about wanting a motorcycle, the old fool. As you can tell from the fact that I didn't offer you cookies, we can't even afford a new oven. How are we going to afford that silly contraption?"
"No, nothin' like that, ma'am. It's ... well, it's a gambling debt."
"Well, in that case,
He was about 40 yards from the sandbar where the group stood. Eric and Charlie dropped their poles and ran to the edge of the water to watch their father. Paul bobbed to the surface and saw Carl and Mike climb in a canoe to get him.
The water was deep here, and he paddled his arms, trying to pull himself over to the upturned canoe. He turned, looking for the boys. He saw them, and he saw Joyce, who also was at the water’s edge now, her gaze shifting from him to the men in the boat and back. He pictured himself on the bar, shivering against the chill with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Joyce would be her old self for a while, a moment, perhaps, worrying over him until her mothering instincts were overruled by something else at work inside her. He blocked her out, focusing on his boys, seeing them alone on the bank, fishing, the bluffs towering above them like sentinels. He closed his eyes and slid below the surface for a moment. He knew he'd always need to fight like hell to make sure he could still see the boys. He would. He'd fight like hell.
Sinking in the Sea of Love
The two hulking men—boys, really—had declined Janet's offer of tea, so she sat down in the chair across from them, smoothing her skirt with her hands.
"So, you said you're friends of my husband's?" she asked. The men were on the loveseat, trying to avoid touching each other as their weight and gravity combined to make them slide ever so slightly toward the middle of the cushion. They were in the rarely used living room of her modest brownstone. This was of course where you entertained guests, and she was embarrassed that she hadn't had the chance to take the plastic covers off the furniture. That's to be expected with unannounced visitors, she supposed.
"Not exactly. We're just looking for Benny," said the one who had introduced himself as Nico. The other, Vince, sat quietly, cracking his knuckles. "We, uh, need to talk to him."
"With him, dear," she said.
"Huh?"
"You need to talk with him, not to him. I assume you're going to let him speak?" After 35 years in the classroom, Janet found herself unable to control correcting young people when they misspoke.
"Right. With him."
"Well, Benny isn't home at the moment. Works awfully hard, you know. If you knew him, I'm sure he would have told you that many times. He probably just stopped off for a drink on his way home. Needs to unwind, he says," she said. "Now, if you don't mind my asking, what do you need to discuss with Benny?"
"It's just business, ma'am," Nico said. There's an, um, debt we need to discuss."
Janet grabbed a coaster and set her teacup down—just because they didn't want any didn't mean she was going to deny herself—and leaned forward.
"Oh, my. Did Benny buy something from you young men? He's always talking about wanting a motorcycle, the old fool. As you can tell from the fact that I didn't offer you cookies, we can't even afford a new oven. How are we going to afford that silly contraption?"
"No, nothin' like that, ma'am. It's ... well, it's a gambling debt."
"Well, in that case,
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