Page 117 of A Summer to Save Us
Why did they publish the photo?
“They wanted to know where I was and asked the public for help. At first, I thought they were simply threatening me, but they were too worried.”
Sure, you jumped when you were nineteen.
“It was an accident.” He laughs sheepishly.
Nobody jumps by accident, River-Tanner-Asher.
For a moment, he looks hurt, perhaps because of the names. “I really thought I could...” He doesn’t say it, doesn’t say the word as if it would summon old ghosts.
Why didn’t they call the police? Why didn’t your parents call the police?
“My dad hired a private investigator. Sam told me that today. Maybe he was the one following us in the black Camaro.” He glances down again. “Everything here is only an illusion, isn’t it, Tucks? Artificial lava, artificial people, artificial fun.”
Why didn’t you tell me that the doctors diagnosed you as bipolar?
He stares, unseeing, out the window. “I’m not bipolar. I’m not crazy... And as for my family, my father never would have wanted this to be made public. The police can’t search for someone without concrete evidence and suspicion. Otherwise, anyone could be easily framed. I haven’t committed a crime... I’m not Ben Adams.” He looks at me and smiles gently.
For a second, it occurs to me that maybe he wanted me to believe he was Ben Adams rather than Asher Blackwell. Maybe that’s why he cropped the photo. Then again, I could have googled Ben Adams at any time. River knew full well that I was reluctant to turn off airplane mode.
“Your dad knew for two or three days that we were traveling together. He discussed it with my father and then, when the picture of me was all over the media, my father—or maybe my brother—talked to Zozoo and found out about everything. The girls and stuff. Before that, they had kept numerous things from my family because I never wanted my parents to know anything about me. Your brother must have been scared because of the girl thing. That’s why he wrote about ending it. At least, that’s what Zozoo told me.”
You manage to escape Zozoo and the others again today.
“Yes. I told them I wanted to go to Death Valley. And I gave them a good reason to believe me.” Now he grins crookedly and looks like River McFarley at Old Sheriff again—young, confident, and vulnerable in a magically beautiful way. But suddenly, he becomes serious. “Tucks, I do love you. I didn’t just say that.” His eyes sparkle in the darkness of the room as if hundreds of points of fire were glittering in them. My heart beats faster because a tiny part of me is feeling hopeful.What about the girls?My screen casts a green glow on River’s face.
“I have to save a girl. I promised myself. No, actually, I promised June. Almost four years ago, at Craters of the Moon.”
But June is dead, I think but don’t type. At least now I know why that place was so important to him.
Still alive for you, June.
James once said that it helps people with feelings of guilt if they do something good. Maybe that’s the case with River, too.Do you think your debt is paid off then?I type.
To my surprise, he nods. “Yes,” he replies calmly. “I think so. I don’t know why, but it’s the only option.”
Maybe it is some kind of delusion after all. I take a deep breath.Tell me about it. Why do you feel guilty?
He turns away with a sorrowful expression and stares off into space. I think he’s looking into another time.
At some point, he abruptly goes to the minibar, takes out a beer, opens it, and downs it.
I sit on the armrest of the couch and watch. Something inside me sinks—perhaps the hope that this would end well. I only know that I love him, but I also know that there can be no future for us as long as he is Asher Blackwell. Never. Just thinking about it makes me feel like there is no tomorrow for me, either. Nothing from this summer will continue to exist; it will be as if it had never existed. The thought makes it hard for me to breathe, as if a ton of metal were pressing on my chest.
River sits on the floor, bends his knees, and wraps his arms around them. There is a strange beauty in his grief, in this darkness that he calls his demons. “I wanted to prove somethingto June, Tucks. I wanted to write that damn song for her.Above the Moon.”
You are my truth above the moon. Guess, my love, I’ll see you soon.
“She called me around eight o’clock. She sounded bad, worse than usual, so I knew she wasn’t feeling well. I was... I was such a damn selfish person. I was in the zone, and all I wanted was to finish that damn song. Just that one damn song. I wanted to surprise her with it.” He pauses for a moment and runs his hand over his face. “She asked me to come over. She was a day student at St. Benedict’s... so I promised I would sneak out. But I kept writing, smoking weed, and lost track of time. I finished around one and went to see her, but she wasn’t home. Three hours later, I found her. She had jumped, Tucks.”
An icy shiver runs down my spine.
“Maybe she flew,” he says quietly. He looks at me, and I sink to the floor next to him and grab his hand. It must have been terrible for him. I’m sure it still is. This burden, this guilt. Every day. I squeeze his fingers tightly. I’m sorry.He understands that without words.
River glances at our clasped hands. “I always wonder if I could have stopped her if I’d been there... if she would have talked to me. She had trouble at home, but she never told me what. Tucks, that day I swore to myself that if I ever became successful with music, no one would know about it. At first, I couldn’t play for a long time; I couldn’t sing anymore, but it came back one day. I don’t know why.”
You slept on her grave for a year.
