The Secrets A River Can Hold

{This story has mentions of death and dying.}

All he can hear is the water. Loud- too loud. A screaming rush that fills each ear and swirls in his nose. The rapids are strong and Bennet can’t keep his head up long enough to get oxygen. Hands grasping on anything and nothing all at the same time- just the air and water that keeps churning and throwing him around.

It was an accident. Bennet was trying to get home faster. It’s never been dangerous to cross the river. Not normally anyways. But it rained last night; stormed actually. The water is higher and more aggressive than normal. All the flooding had done a number to it.

This is what everyone had warned him about. This week has been nothing but storms and flooding. He can see the worry in his mother’s eyes. Those dark brown irises that always felt warm and safe. The eyes Bennet and his older brother inherited. He can see Daisy, the little dachshund rescue Mom had brought home to keep Bennet company while she worked on weekends. Melody. That beautiful smile he fell in love with- the first girl he had ever fallen for.

He clawed at the rocks next, desperate for anything that would slow him down; it didn’t work. The bubbles and the stinging sensation clouded everything and Bennet couldn’t see. Everything moved too fast. The banks were too far. Bennet didn’t have enough strength to swim through to reach them- He’s a ragdoll in a draining bathtub.

Then Bennet sees a branch. There is nothing special about it but it’s hanging just low enough where he could grab it if he’s strong enough. Thick and covered in bark. No sign of damage or old age. It was definitely strong enough to hold a soaking wet 17-year-old. So, as one last desperate attempt to save his life, Bennet reached for it.

There are no words that can describe the pure terror that comes with realizing you just missed your one safety net. The one chance you have to survive. Because Bennet desperately wished he did have the words. Anything to comfort him while thinking about how he won’t survive this. He had missed that branch by less than a centimeter.

Bennet felt something catch his leg and it stopped his body long enough. Just long enough for Bennet to push with everything left in him and grab that branch. The feeling of the bark digging into his palms. A rough, scratchy sensation that feels so real and grounding. It was just enough to pull him up and out of the water. The relief so instant Bennet started to cry.

He can’t wait to go home and tell his mother and Melody about this. About how he made sure to survive just for them. They would both yell at him- sure- but at least he will be alive. Melody will throw a pillow at him and Mom might smack the back of his head. But that’s ok. As long as he’s home.

He didn’t notice that something had changed in the air. A kind of stillness that comes right before tragedy. When you can taste tension and it tastes like metal. The kind that suffocates everything around it.

It was long enough for Bennet to catch his breath. Just a few moments of reprieve before that awful crack shot through the air. How? This branch is as wide as a basketball. It’s supposed to be sturdy! So now Bennet has to pull himself towards the shore as fast as possible or fall in again. Alone.

There was no one nearby who would be able to help pull Bennet out. He had to get out of this on his own. The birds were starting to go silent as if sensing something that Bennet himself couldn’t quite see. An unknown force watching and waiting. That string of tension getting tighter and tighter.

It all happened at once. The branch gave way just as a hand wrapped Bennet’s bicep, pulling him out of the water with an almost supernatural amount of strength. Getting him out onto the grass. He didn’t hit his knees. He didn’t shiver. Just stood there was a kind of shock-like trance taking hold. Whoever it was that pulled him out was helping him remain of his feet.

Everything felt like it was made of cotton. Muffled and fuzzy. The rumble of the water becoming a dull rush like blood in your ears.

‘I almost died.’

Bennet almost drowned in a river that he has crossed all his life. The place that parents warn about during those awful southern storms. What is his mom going to say when she sees him home and soaking wet? That she had warned him? That he knew better? His nerves are frayed more than he thought was possible. All he could think about was that branch cracking. How heavy it sounded when it landed in the water.

His breathing picked up a bit as that splash circles in his head over and over again. The tears start slow. The kind that comes when someone hasn’t realized they are crying yet but everything is just too traumatic not to cry. Then he lets out these choked-off sobs that make his body jerk. Everything hitting him all at once. How close he came to dying. To never getting to see his family again. His girlfriend. His dog. Everything that keeps him going.

‘None of this feels real right now. I don’t feel cold. I don’t feel wet. I don’t feel anything. Why don’t I want to cough?’

“Are you insane, Benny? What the hell are you thinking?” That voice sounded familiar. Kind of deep with that little bit of lisp he grew up knowing. It always brought comfort even in arguments.

It’s his older brother. Jackson with his messy black hair and dark eyes. Pale as ever and face set it that perpetually worried look that he always seems to get when Bennet does something reckless. But there was something off about how Jack stood there in his almost too clean clothes. Not a hair out of place or a drop of water on his pants. That pale skin almost looking grey.

“Jack?” Bennet’s voice is raspy but no tickling that could make him cough. Instead, just the steady heaving of someone who couldn’t get enough air. It was strange though. Bennet couldn’t feel himself breathing.

“It’s been storming all week! You know how these rivers get. Did you have some kind of death wish? Were you feeling particularly invincible? What were you thinking?”

Something didn’t feel right with this, but Bennet can’t seem to figure out how. It’s something with Jack. When was the last time they had spoken to one another? How did Jack know where to find him? Where to look? It’s about a 10-minute walk from the house to this spot in the river and not all of it is safe.

“You just pulled me out of the river... Jack, how did you pull me out of the river?”

“Yeah. I did pull you out. Because you were stupid and crossed it after a storm.” Bennet was acutely aware about the fact that Jackson didn’t answer his question. In fact- he acted like Bennet hadn’t asked the question at all.

“How did you pull me out of the river?” Bennet asked again and watched Jack closely. Way too closely. Because something really wasn’t right. And the quiet stretched for too long. The water crashing just a bit too loud. The birds are just a bit too quiet. Jack wasn’t blinking.

,Why didn’t he blink? Why was his voice carrying this kind of sad undertone?’ Bennet asked himself. Jackson was watching him with those unwavering eyes- holding a kind of knowledge that is too much for a 23-year-old to bare.

“Why won’t you answer my question?”

“Because you don’t actually want that answer yet.”

“You know I hate when people give me those kinds of non-answers.”

“Does it matter what the answer is? You had needed my help getting out of the river. I helped.”

“Stop being so dodgy! Why-“ Jackson just continued to stare. Motionless. Clean. Calm. Sad. It keeps throwing Bennet off and it’s making him angry. But it didn’t last long. Why? Because he figured out why all of this was so wrong.

Jack is dead. He has been for three years. There had been a car accident. A nasty one. Five car pile-up. Mom and Jack had been in the car together. Bennet had been at school when he found out.

Jack could see that awful realization settling into Bennet’s expression. That moment when you realize you had died despite everything you had done. That this wasn’t a moment of salvation. It’s a moment of finality.

“Oh god.”

“I know.”

“But I can’t be- This can’t be happening-“ Bennet starts to pace but he won’t turn around. Not seeing it means that he can pretend. But it’s like an adult pretending that the pile of bills on the table isn’t demands for payment before being cut off. Just because you refuse to acknowledge it doesn’t mean that it isn’t happening.

“Bennet. It’s ok.”

“It’s not ok! You died in Mom’s arms out on the highway three years ago. You bleed out surrounded by wreckage and screams. That drunk driver had drove a red light and hit that mini-van. You DIED! You are dead and here and-”

Jackson watched Bennet grip his hair- trying to make sense of it all. He remembers it all too. The pain and how it felt like he himself was drowning in the blood. Much like how Bennet swallowed so much river water.

‘This can’t be right. It can’t be real.’ Bennet tried to reason with himself. ‘No. It’s all a hallucination. I’ve had a near-death experience and now I’m seeing things. Maybe I have some brain damage from hitting my head or from not getting enough oxygen in my lungs. After all- the touch doesn’t feel real. This is a kind of mirror therapy where my mind is using Jack as a coping mechanism. So this can’t be real.’

Bennet tries to explain it away to himself. Hypoxia is a thing, right? That can happen while you drown. He learned about this in school. About how not getting enough oxygen to your brain can cause these kinds of things. Hallucinations or confusion. Right? … right?

“I know I died. It wasn’t fun or pretty.”

“But then how are you here?” The silence that stretched between them caused Bennet to let out a strangled cry. That weight settling like solid metal and concrete. All he can think about is getting the phone call while at school. How he had been given detention for answering that call but as soon as the teacher realized what happened, it went away. Everyone stared while the phone dropped and the screen cracking from the force of hitting the ground.

The accident had made front page news.

“No.”

“Yes, Bennet. I know you don’t want it to be true, but it is. You’ve died.”

“But what about Mom? She needs me! And I’ve got Daisy waiting for me at home! And what about Melody? We are supposed to go to Yale together!”

“Ben-“ Jackson reached out while Bennet backed away towards the ledge. That warm, brotherly care mixed with something akin to indifference.

“I’ve got too much to do with my life. I’ve got too many people depending on me. Daisy is just a puppy still. She is going to think I abandoned her.” Then the hyperventilating started.

“Bennet.”

“I promised Melody that after college we would get married. We are gonna have kids and I am gonna name my son after you. I promised I would be able to take care of Mom. I was gonna buy her a house after I got a good job. I was gonna make sure Daisy has a big yard to run around in and chase squirrels! “

“Bennet! Look at me.” Jack said. He grabbed Bennet by the shoulders and stared right into his eyes. “I know you have things you want to finish. Things that you feel like you have to wrap up. But you can’t. It’s too late.”

“But Jackson-!“

“I know how you feel, ok? Because when I laid there bleeding internally, I thought about all the same things. I thought about you and Mom. But when it’s time then it’s time.”

As the truth seemed to settle in, things seemed to go pale. Not grey- just pale. The greens aren’t as bright and the water isn’t as clear. Like a layer of white chiffon laid down over everything. The birds are quiet. The river is trickling. The grass is softer.

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know. We don’t have to leave right away, ok? We can wait a while longer.”

There was a few long moments of silence while Bennet’s shoulders shook with tears. So many things left half finished and no closure that can be given. Death is such a permanent construct.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s ok to be scared.” Jack hugged his little brother. It’s not cold but it’s not warm either. It’s something in between. Just an existence. Bennet still isn’t shivering. He isn’t cold. He’s numb; both physically and spiritually.

Is this what Jack first went through when he died? That feeling of nothing being real and pain seeming like a mental construct? The crying doesn’t feel real. More like the motions of a body used to grieving. As Bennet focuses on the phantom feelings the crying slows to a stop. Not quite acceptance but the beginning of understanding.

They stay like that for a while. Jackson holding Bennet to show he isn’t alone. Time stands still. The sun stays where it is. The water seems to go quiet then silent.

“Are you ready to go?” Jackson asked. Bennet hesitated just for a moment.

“I don’t know. I feel like I need to see it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah but… It won’t feel real until I do.” There was a pause before Jack nodded, understanding in his eyes. He had done the same thing.

“Ok Benny.”

And there is was. Trapped between the log that had caught him before and the branch that had broken under his body weight. His body locked in place under the water. There was no chance for survival. No real escape.

His dirty blonde hair moved with the rapids; covering his eyes in a way that feels oddly symbolic. Lips parted but no bubbles came out. His school hoodie looked darker in the water. It didn’t look peaceful. It just looked like a kid who stepped wrong and paid the price for it. Bennet could only stare into the river and mourn the life he lost.