“She and Dave have been hinting hard for a couple of years now, nudging me towards getting my own place. But now that I’ve finally taken them up on it, all they do is argue with me about the location. ”
“What’s their problem with it?”
“Lu says it’s too close to the river—that when the river floods it’ll be a muddy mess down there. But hell, the whole city clusters up against the river, or at least all the good stuff. You’d have to go all the way back to the ridges to get away from it, and that’s probably a couple of miles. Anyway, that’s what TVA is for, isn’t it? To keep the river where it’s supposed to be? And I’ll get renter’s insurance. I’ll be fine. ”
He waved the cigarette at me with one hand and buttoned his jacket shut with the other. “She’s right. It’s too close to the river. I’d be worried about that too, if I were you. ”
“Why? What’s so scary about the river?”
With a deep breath and a pensive squint, he answered, “It’s like being afraid of the dark, I think. I mean, you’re not really afraid of the dark—you’re afraid of the things in the dark. That’s what being afraid of the river is like. That’s what I’m trying to say. ”
I whacked him with my sunglasses. “So you’re afraid of driftwood and fish, pretty much?”
“The fish in this river? Hell, yeah, they scare me. Haven’t you seen the signs?”
“I’ve seen them. ” I nodded. They’re posted at regular intervals along the banks, warning people who fish there not to eat more than one of their catch a week because of the pollution levels.
He dropped his voice and crawled to a crouch in order to bring his face closer to mine. “You know it’s not the fish, Eden. You know it isn’t, as sure as I do. You’ve got to know it too. ”
“Jesus, Christ. Settle down. ” I pushed him back to a seated position and withdrew, trying to reestablish some personal space. He’s not a scary guy, not really—not for someone thirty
years old who still wears anarchy symbols stitched to his clothes. But I’d never seen him quite so agitated. “What’s going on out here that’s got you so wound up?”
“It’s not on the news—not yet—but it will be, soon. The wrong people have been going missing, so no, it’s not on the news yet. But one of these days, one way or another, the right people are going to disappear. And then those fascist media overlords will stand up and take notice. ”
“Backtrack for me, please. What are we talking about?”
“People are dying, Eden. Down by the river. Something is taking them, one at a time, here and there. Two skater kids last week. A couple of bums this week. So far, it’s just nobodies like me. But the things in the river are getting bolder, or stronger. They’re coming out earlier and earlier, not just in the middle of the night anymore. ”
“All right, I’ll bite—’they’ who?”
He picked at his shoe, the one held together with duct tape. “Don’t know. If you see them, it’s too late. But they come up out of the water, I know that much. And don’t let the cops tell you that their stupid little community service campaigns are what’s keeping the kids off the landing. That’s bullshit. They’re staying away because their friends are dying. ”
“Man, maybe they’re just . . . leaving. People leave here in droves. Hell, you’ve left more times than I can count. Where was it last time, California?”
“San Francisco. But I came back. These guys won’t be back. And it doesn’t matter. Not yet. Nobody important enough has been taken for the city to stand up and wonder what’s going on. ”
His pack of cigarettes slid off his knee and I picked it up, tapping one loose and feeding it to him as if it might calm him down. He lit it off the edge of the one that was nearly smoked down to nothing and gulped down a chest full of tobacco, but it didn’t soothe him any.
“It won’t be me, either,” he grumbled, tweaking his lips around the Camel. “Even if they get me, it won’t be my mangled corpse that raises the alarm. Nobody cares if I go. It’ll have to be someone else. ”
“Okay, I think that’s just about all the cryptic I’ve got patience for today, and I’m already full-up on crazy. ” I stood and dusted off the seat of my jeans.
He reached out to grab my arm. I thought I ducked fast enough, but he caught my wrist. “Don’t move in there. People are dying, Eden. Not people you’d know, but one of these days a body’s going to float up that no one can zip into a bag and forget. ”
“Let go of me, Christ, for real. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here—”
He did as I told him, and put his hands on his head as if it hurt him. “I don’t either. I just wanted to tell you, and see if you got it. I wanted to see if you understood, but I guess you don’t, or you don’t care. ”
“Don’t be like that. ”
“Fuck you,” he said, but I didn’t hear any real malice in it. He only sounded tired. “Maybe it’ll be you they pull out of the water. Maybe you’ll be the one who makes it an issue. Everybody knows who you are. ”
I picked up my bag and the to-go cup of coffee I’d brought from Greyfriar’s. “Don’t remind me. ”
“You’re famous. You’re famous,” he chanted in an annoying sing-song. “You’re famous, you bitch. You can wear all the thrift store shirts you can buy, but you’re not like us. Go find somewhere else to hang out if you’re not going to notice. ”
I turned away.