The River

Trevan wasn’t what anyone would call special. The most exciting thing about him was where he lived. Trevan lived in the town at the edge of the river. This was no ordinary river, and so, it was no ordinary town. If the river had been anywhere else it would have been just like any other river, but it wasn’t. So. 

This was the Mida river, and it was the border between two very old, very tired countries. The town was named after the river, and in many ways, they were the same. Old and slow and sometimes very temperamental. However, the town refused to change, and the river was never the same. 

If you asked someone in the town how long it had been there, they would likely brush you off. For who could know? The river was here, the town was here, the two countries were here, and for as long as anyone could remember they had always been here. This was not a coincidence. There was one rule in the town that kept everyone safe; 

Don’t go across the river.

This had been the law for all of living memory. It kept people safe. They didn’t cross the river: they didn’t fight with the other country. That was that. Who knew what was over there? The stories told of ferocious beasts and wild man-eating plants, of strange magical beings in the woods across the river. And so, they never crossed the Mida. They fished and swam and stared at the far shore. But they never went across. 

This had always confused Trevan. As far as he could tell the woods across the river looked the same as the woods on this side. Just as full of strange magical beasts and man-eating plants as his wood. That is to say, none. The craziest thing Trevan had seen in his woods was old man Jad dancing his jig to the crescent moon. He doubted if there were even any people on the other side of the river. If there were, they never came across. He didn’t think it was that big a deal. Of course, he wasn’t about to say that out loud. You didn’t cross the river, that was that.

It wasn’t like the town of Mida didn’t trade with people in their country. Wasn’t like they never heard tell of people crossing the river to the land over there. Wasn’t like they never came back. It was just hard for them to believe something they hadn't seen with their own eyes. They only had one rule in town; don’t cross the river. It had always been like that, there had to be a good reason for it. Right?

Mostly this didn't bother Trevan, he had no real reason to cross the Mida, life was good in the town. Yet every now and then he would catch himself staring deeply into the woods on the other side of the slow-moving waters. What was over there? 

To an outsider, this might sound confusing. Every town has rowdy teenagers looking to test their mettle, and surely a quick swim or boat ride to the other side of the water and back was a good way to prove yourself? If you think this, you know nothing of the village. This was their one rule. Their guiding principle on which they based all else. They did not cross the river. Not little troublesome children or older troublesome adolescents, not even the animals they kept. It was as if this rule was written in the bones of everyone in the village. No one broke it. 

No one, except Trevan. 

It had been an accident the first time. He had taken his little boat out to fish downriver from the village in an especially good spot. Somehow, his boat had twisted its way out of the edie like a fish, and before he knew it the prow of his canoe was touching the far shore. 

Trevan froze. The far shore, the other side of the river. The law upon which all others were based. The entire history of his town's beliefs. He braced himself, ready for something terrible to race out of the trees. Half expecting to be devoured by some wild plant and half expecting nothing. He waited. But the basis of his town’s beliefs refused to appear. 

He slowly levered himself out of the boat and stood on the foreign soil. It looked exactly like the dirt on the other side of the river. He stared out through the vast green trees. They looked just like the trees in his forest. A brown bird scolded him from a nearby bush. It made the same sound as it did on the other side of the river. Trevan sank to his knees on the earth. 

Who had made that ridiculous rule in the first place, and why had no one broken it by now? He sat on the cool forest floor feeling like a complete idiot. Why had he believed it for so long? Why hadn’t he made his own choices about the river? There was no proof of wild man-eating plants or magical creatures, and if there were, how wonderful would that have been!? A whole other world to explore! There would have been no need to fear the country across the river. Trevan felt like a fool as he clambered back into his boat and paddled to the middle of the water.

From here, both sides looked the same.

Trevan drifted his boat to the other side of the river often after that. To feel the ground of the country across the Mida. To feel the same sun from a different place. To look back at his forest from a new perspective. He never saw anyone on this side and he never told anyone he had crossed the water. He wanted to tell them. But he couldn't. They wouldn’t believe him, or they would shun him. It would be like telling them the sunlight was cold. Obviously, the sun was warm. Obviously, the other side of the river was a wild unsafe place that you could never go. No amount of convincing and cajoling would persuade someone the sun was cold. The same went for the far shore. 

Trevan thought he would take this secret to his grave, that or leave the town. He had heard the stories, same as everyone; people in other places crossed the river. There was another country over there. He knew they were true now, knew it was safe. He had crossed the river and stood on the earth of a different place. Maybe he should leave. But Mida was his home! And besides, he didn’t want to go, he would die with this secret. At least that was what he thought for many years. 

Until winter came and the Mida rose up, fat and angry with the harsh rain. She pushed at her banks and one of the children from the village was scooped into her ferocious mouth. It was Talla, age ten. She was a good swimmer and they could see her desperately fighting the current as it pulled her down the river. The villagers ran to the edge of the bank, as close as they dared to the angry water. 

Trevan, now an old man got into his boat. Of course he did. He knew the river, knew the far shore, knew no one else would take the chance. 

He slid into the wild waters of the Mida and scooped Talla up into the relative safety of his little canoe. The Mida clawed at the boat and cold water came splashing in over the sides. The river batted them about like a cat with a fish.

His shore was so far away. He could see the villagers' small scared faces staring downriver after them and he made a choice. Trevan steered his boat to the far shore. He leapt out and pulled the canoe to land with Talla still shivering inside. 

She yelped when she realized where she was. 

“Just throw me back in the river!” She cried, cold and dripping in the bottom of the boat.

“Shhh, it’s safe, I promise. It's exactly like the other side. You're okay.” He whispered to her, helping her out of the boat. She stood, small wide eyes staring. Hair dripping. She looked at the trees and the earth and then turned to stare back at the side of the water she had lived her whole life on, to look upriver at the stunned, horrified faces of the village. “Come, help me with the boat, I know a place upriver it's safer to cross back.”

Dumbfounded, she picked up one end of the canoe and walked slowly behind him as they made their way along the far shore. She looked around as they went. She saw no magical creatures. No monster plants. Only pine trees and bushes and raindrops, just like there were on the other side. 

Silence greeted them from their shore. Everyone had seen it. Seen them both standing on the other side of the river. Feet in the forbidden soil, breathing alien air. They had seen them carry the canoe upriver, board it and shakily fly down the raging waters to their side. Nothing bad had happened. Not on the other side. Not in the water. Nothing. 

They stood, shocked and confused, their stories had told them it wasn’t safe. That it was the same as dying to cross the river. Any one of them would have chanced the raging waters of the Mida instead of crossing the water. 

They looked at Trevan, shocked.

“How did you do that!? You crossed the river! You're okay! How could you be so brave and so stupid??” They asked,

“I wasn’t about to let a child die because I was afraid of the other side. It's exactly the same over there, just ask Talla.”

She looked up at him and smiled, then turned to the people and began exuberating excitedly about the far shore, about the river in between, and about the view from the center.