Page 58 of I Know She Was There

I just watched him, unable to speak.

He closed the file and rested his hands on the folder, clearly willing to wait me out.

Eventually, I whispered, “I... pushed her.”

He had no reaction, said nothing for a few seconds. Then, “What happened next?”

“I... I lost my balance and I fell in too.” I recalled the sudden shift from blinding sunlight to the murky brown beneath the pond’s surface. Instant, numbing cold encased me. I saw legs flailing uselessly in front of me, her body wavering underwater, like an image in a dream. “I swam toward her, reached out... and she grabbed me, pushing me downward in her effort to lift herself up.” I took a deep breath, remembering how my lungs tightened painfully as I sank lower. “I knew I couldn’t breathe, or I’d die.” I recalled the muffled explosion behind me, a cannonball into the water, and arms wrapping around me from behind. “My dad, he yanked me away from her. Pulled me outward, upward?—”

“He rescued you?”

“He did. After we broke the water’s surface, he made me hold on to the side of the boat while he went back into the water for my mother.”

“And he saved her?” Dr. Ellison said. “Did you all get back in the boat?”

I blinked, trying to focus. “No, she was able to get back in with my dad’s help.” I stared at the white bedsheet covering my legs, struggling to remember climbing in behind her, but all I could recall were the noises. Her noises. My mother coughing, shrieking, sobbing, and accusing. “I was frightened. Mother was screaming that my dad left her to die. That he never cared about her as he should. How she could never mean as much to him as I did.”

My throat felt like it had been burned. I looked at the water pitcher and empty glass on my bedside table.

Dr. Ellison followed my gaze, reached over, and grasped the pitcher with one hand and the glass with the other. “Did your dad drown while helping you back into the boat?”

“No, after he lifted her from the water to the boat, he began lifting me, telling her to grab me...”

“Did she pull you up, into the boat?” He poured the water and handed me the glass. “Do you remember?”

“I remember she was angry. She wouldn’t stop yelling. But I was also pleased because I thought she was right about my dad. He loved me more, cared more about saving me.”

“Did you think she’d hurt you?”

I gulped the water, recalling her reaching toward me with one hand, the other clutching the side of the boat to hold herself in place. The water from my glass tipped too quickly into my mouth and throat. I sputtered and coughed.

“Hold on,” said the doctor, reaching for my glass. He took it from me and the water spilling over its rim reminded me of the way the pond water sloshed over the edge of the rowboat as my mother leaned forward.

I couldn’t stop coughing. I was back in the pond, not yet back in the boat, the water splashing against my chin, overtaking my mouth, my nose...

“Look down,” commanded Dr. Ellison, standing and pressing his fingers to the back of my head, as water trickled out of my mouth.

I reared my head up, terrified, feeling the hand at the back of my head, forcing my face downward, into the murky water. My mother’s hand. I flung my head back against the pillows, putting space between me and that hand. I coughed again, panted.

“Are you okay, Caroline?”

I looked toward the voice, expecting to see my mother, relieved when the image rearranged: the doctor, and his concerned expression.

“Breathe in through your nose and slowly exhale through your mouth,” he instructed. I did as I was told. After a few minutes, my heartbeat regulated, and my pulse was no longer throbbing in my temples and wrists.

“I’m all right now,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“I can come back?—”

“No.” I had to get this over with.

“Do you recall what your father was doing during your mother’s meltdown?”

“He was yelling too, and holding on to me very tightly. He threatened her, told her he would take me and leave...” Oh God, hehadsaid that hadn’t he? Then why was I picturing Tim talking? “Telling her she wasn’t keeping her child safe...” Tim’s lips moving, his face red. I closed my eyes, let my head sink deeper into the pillows.

“What happened next?”

I forced myself not to think about Tim. “The water, there was so much water. My dad had his arms around me from behind, his voice yelling up at her in the boat. I tried to talk, but the water kept washing over my face, flowing into my nose and mouth.”

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