The River

 “We almost there, K?” Samuel’s voice was so weak I could barely make out his words.

“Not yet, Sam.” I replied, though I had no idea where he was talking about. We weren’t escaping to anywhere, just escaping.

I lowered him onto the sand, and he lay there quietly, pale as death. After a few moments, he let out a low moan and then lay still. His breaths came low and ragged, as though each gasp had to fight to get out. I didn’t need to be a medical expert to know that Samuel would draw his last breath this very night if he didn’t see a doctor. But there was no feasible way to get him to a doctor. There was no help to be found, no help, no help at all.

At that moment, Samuel moaned again, and I felt strength that was not my own flow through my aching, beaten limbs. I felt my Mama whispering to me, “Keep goin’ baby girl. That’s what the Lord above made us to do. Just keep goin’.”

I put my hands in the water, their bloodied blisters turning the water red, and slowly, handful-by-handful, I washed Samuel’s face free of the dirt, slime, and sin of the prison cell.

As I crawled back to the river for another handful of water, the river erupted. It made no sound to me below the pounding of my heart, but the force of the explosion knocked me backward. A terrible wind pinned me to the river bank and swept sand into my face.

As suddenly as it began, the wind stopped and an ocean of water fell from the sky. I blinked water and sand out of my eyes to register an ice-cold spear resting against my throat.

A voice like a river bursting through a dam echoed in my ears. “Young gosling, who are you to call me forth from the river? Speak quickly; I’ve little patience for your kind.”

I looked, I saw, and then I blinked and looked again. In front of me stood a woman, composed entirely of tiny, shimmering water droplets. She wore a long, flowing dress, a cloak, and a crown. Her hair reached halfway down her back and in her hand, she held a long, silver spear, its point an inch away from my throat.

After a moment of staring, I found my voice, “Spear…please…move.”

She looked confused for a moment, then moved the spear back, resting its end in the sand by her feet.

“Your name?” She asked expectantly.

After a few unsuccessful attempts, I managed to speak. “Kailyn Rusher.”

She gave a crisp nod. “In the interest of getting rid of you—why does it always have to be a human that calls me? They’re insufferable—I’ll give you the short introduction.

“I have watched over this river for longer than you can possibly imagine. It is the lot of all river nymphs that we are called forth from the water by the blood of a soul in need.” The nymph’s graceful features twisted in an expression of bitterness at this. “A creature of my magnificence should not be forced to bend to the whims of petty mortals like you. So, I have devised another system; I will grant your wish, but if you do not pay me for it, I will grant you a second gift of sorts…one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Only one has ever failed to pay me, and I assure you he regretted it. Shall we begin?”

I knew I would have to face that price in the end, but for now, I cared only for saving Samuel.

“Can you heal him?”

“It depends. Bring him closer. I can’t go any farther from the river than I already am.”

I dragged Sam to the edge of the river, and the river nymph knelt and examined his face.

“Hmmmm…well, yes I think I can heal him.”

A wave of relief washed over me, followed quickly by horror as the river nymph raised her spear and plunged it into Samuel’s chest.

I launched myself at the nymph, but passed right through her watery body. Words tumbled from my mouth without thought. “You liar! You twisted, crooked liar! You told me you would heal him!”

A wave of river water carried me back to the bank and held me there as the river nymph regarded me disdainfully. “Such passion; why must humans be like that? So inconvenient. There is no need to worry; your friend is alive—I healed him. He’s unconscious for the time being. It will make our negotiations much easier.”

I looked at Samuel. He was indeed breathing peacefully, the ashen hue of his face faded to a healthier shade.

“So,” the nymph said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened, “how about payment?”

The water released me, and I sat up, staring into the nymph’s merciless eyes. I had nothing to give…no…I had one thing…

“My life. I will give you my life.”

The river nymph laughed a tinkling laugh, like rain falling on a pond. “I’m afraid not. I find sacrificing oneself extremely cliché. So no, not an option. Anything else?” The river nymph began examining her nails casually. She seemed almost bored.

I racked my brains. What had I to give?

“What have other humans given you?”

“Oh, various things. One gave me a rare variety of fish, another gave me water from the river Ganga. One even gave me a drop of pure starlight.”

That didn’t help me. I had none of those things.

She would not take my life, but what else had I to give?

My eyes strayed to the grasses on the bank nearby. A flash of memory, of my mother’s dark, nimble fingers teasing strands into something beautiful, made me clamber to me feet and approach them.

My mother’s hands took hold of mine as I plucked and wove, heedless of the nymph’s cold eyes I knew watched from behind me.

The grasses were sharp and bit my hands, but perhaps Mama soothed their anger at being separated from the earth, and they gradually yielded to my commands.

For one who had eternity to live, the nymph let out a number of impatient sighs while I worked, but I did not turn around or acknowledge her until I held a sturdy circle of woven reeds.

I placed it in the water and waited for the ripples to subside so that it framed the reflective surface. The river seemed eager to cooperate.

“Look into it,” I told the nymph.

She did so and laughed aloud with pleasure. “Why…I am yet more beautiful than I imagined!”

“We call them mirrors.”

The nymph seemed not to hear me, so entranced by her own beauty. “Yes…I accept this payment, Kailyn Rusher. It is a pleasing trifle.”

“Thank you.”

The nymph broke her gaze from the mirror and turned to me.

 “I sense you wish for something else.”

I nodded. “I have nothing else to pay you, but…I must find Ruth...my sister.”

The river nymph’s face darkened. “The little one?”

“You’ve seen her? When? Is she alive?”

The river nymph stopped my questions with a raised hand. “The child passed over these waters recently. I do not know when—days are a petty thing to cling to. A drop of the child’s blood fell in the water, summoning me. The girl was pulled away before I could help her.

“I dislike unpaid debts. Though we didn’t hold formal negotiations, the girl screamed a name, your name. I took this to mean she asked for you. She also unwittingly gave me a gift; she gave me a song. She had a lovely voice, and I considered it ample payment for the favor she asked. But I did not hold up my end of the bargain. I am in her debt, but I think by summoning her here, I can repay it.”

The river nymph turned and drew an image in the river with her spear. She reached a shimmering hand into the water and drew something out of it. A moment later, there was Ruth, peacefully asleep on the sand next to Sam, unmarred except for a thin, pink scar on her forehead.

The river nymph turned back to me and said, “You are a typical human being, Kailyn Rusher: thinking there is nothing more important in the world than the people around you. I will never understand humans. They go on and on about things like liberty, equality, love, and freedom, yet I have everything I need in this very river. Farewell, little gosling, I shall not be seeing you again.” With that, her body of water droplets fell with a splash back into the river. The ripples left by the drops soon faded, and the river nymph moved on to bargain with another soul in need.

I had no time to reflect on the evening. The sun was beginning to send pink streaks across a slowly brightening sky. I dragged Samuel and Ruth into the woods about twenty feet away, covered them with the rowboat, and covered the rowboat with leaves and sticks and brambles. Then I crawled under a bush near the boat and slept, happy, just for this moment, not to have to worry about the future, and what miseries or triumphs it might hold.