Page 108 of Here's to Tomorrow

26

Rae

“Can we go outside and play, please? I wanna touch the water again!” Joey’s bouncing up and down, a grin splitting her face.

Hudson’s been gone getting birthday donuts for about fifteen minutes and she’s been bouncing off the walls for fourteen of them. I have no clue how he does this all the time, but as exhausting as she is, she’s adorable as hell.

This is now the second time she’s mentioned touching the water. I’m nervous to take her out there by myself, because I get this icky feeling whenever I stare at the water for too long, but it’s impossible to look her in her blue eyes and tell her no. So, I don’t.

“Well…since I’m the birthday girl, I say yes! Let’s grab Rocky and head out there before your daddy gets back.”

“Woo!” she shouts and does a little victory jig.

I try to remember how far Hudson let her wade out yesterday. I think she gets a little farther out than he permitted, but she’s seems to be doing fine, so I let it go.

I stand there watching her, not touching the water myself, and let the wind whip my hair around. It’s another cloudy day, so the water is choppy. It reminds me of another time, but I can’t place it, so I ignore the tug my head is giving me.

Feeling a little brave, I take two steps forward, close enough that the smallest amount of water touches my toes. It’s cold but still feels good. I take another step.

“Oh! You’re coming in! Yay! Come out farther—come out here with me!” a tiny voice yells.

In the deepest part of my mind, I know it’s Joey, but in the forefront, the part that counts, I hear and see myself when I was seven and I’m transported to another time.

It’s like my nightmare, only this time I’m not the little girl in the ocean—I’m my mother. I watch as seven-year-old me struggles hard to keep her head up. I even hear her yelling for help repeatedly, but I do nothing. I try hard to move my feet, but I can’t. I have no control over anything.

Then, suddenly, there’s a little boy in front of me with a striking pair of blue-green eyes. He looks so familiar, but I can’t seem to place him.

He begins waving his arms in front of my face frantically. He’s yelling and pointing toward the water. Everything he’s saying comes out mushed together, but I assume he’s begging me to help the little girl.

I do nothing except watch as he fights the waves to reach the girl. As soon as he does, I turn around to begin walking back to the house and run straight into Hudson.

I look him in the eyes and gasp.

“It’s you,” I say on a whisper. My head feels like I’ve spent too much time on a merry-go-round and my vision is hazy.

His mouth is twisted up and his eyes unsure. “Of course it’s me. “Rae…” he says slowly. “Where’s Joey?”

“I…I don’t know…” My head is still spinning. “But it was you, Hudson. You were the little boy.”

“Rae,” he says, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me. “Rae, where’s Joey? Where’s my daughter?” He shakes me again, harder this time.

“I don’t…I don’t know. She was in the water, but she was me…” He drops his hold on me instantly and sprints off toward the water, yelling a string of cuss words.

“You were him. You were the little boy,” I say to myself.

“JOEY! Fuck! Joey!” I barely hear Hudson yell.

The thumping in my head feels like someone is taking tiny hammer and whack, whack, whacking away. I grab on to it with both hands and squeeze, hoping that maybe if I do it hard enough, the pounding will stop. It doesn’t.

Next, I try my heart, because it feels like it’s going to explode. That doesn’t work either.

Everythinghurts. Everything inside of me feels like it’s being meticulously pulled apart—every little molecule of my being getting plucked from within, slowly and painfully, and it hurts so,sobad.

I feel like there’s something I should be doing—anything other than just standing here—but I can’t figure it out.

Then the anger sets in—all of it at once. I don’t know what it means or why I’m so furious, but I’m shaking; I can feel my blood boiling. I clench and unclench my fists, ready to strike at whatever is near. I’m looking around, spinning in a circle, when I see what it was I was supposed to be doing all along.

Hudson grabs a small floating body and something inside me breaks—or snaps back together. I’m not sure which.

---