Page 16 of Reading Between the Lines
“The water’s been high with all the rain this past fall, and the current is unbearable that close to the dam. They figure after he slipped down the embankment and landed in the water, he was unable to get his footing. They think he was pulled under or dragged along. Even a strong swimmer wouldn’t have been able to avoid the obstructions or fight the current. Somehow, he managed to get on a rock downstream, where the dog walker found him, but… it was too late. He’d been in the ice-cold water all night. It’s a wonder he was alive at all.”
She stared from her son to the monitors and machines lining the side of the bed. “It all sounds perfectly accidental, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” grumbled Diem under his breath, a note of defeat undermining his tone.
I didn’t think Delaney heard, but I spoke up before she could inquire or ask him to repeat himself.
“What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?”
“You mean aside from the fact that he should never have been in those woods, on that trail, or near the water?”
“Well, yes. I mean, no offense, ma’am, but he’s a teenager, and—”
“And you assume he doesn’t follow the rules. That he’s rebellious.” She harrumphed. “You’re no better than the police.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but even the most well-behaved teenager can be a bit… secretive with their parents.” I shrugged, stuffing my hands into my pockets and rocking on my heels. It was a sad fact of life.
Delaney studied my face momentarily, likely registering my younger age and figuring I wasn’t much more than a boy myself. Maybe that helped. “I suppose. He has been… acting unusual lately. More… defiant. I sensed he wasn’t as truthful with me as he used to be. I blamed the influence of the girlfriend.”
She turned and retrieved something from the bedside table—a generic spiral-bound notebook. “It’s this that has me skeptical.”
She leafed through several pages, stopping when she neared the end. Wedged inside were a few folded sheets of white printer paper. She opened them, revealing a typewritten font too small for me to read from my vantage.
For a long time, she stared at whatever was printed on the page as though deciding if she was right or wrong or wanted to share the discovery. Ultimately, she handed me the folded pages, and Diem moved behind me to read over my shoulder.
It seemed to be an essay of some kind. A story. No title. An English project? Creative writing assignment? Someone had taken a pen to the composition and had scribbled editorial notes in the margins. Parts of the composition were circled or underlined, words changed, or spelling corrected. Certain sections had been crossed out and rewritten for clarity.
“Read it,” Delaney urged.
I started at the top and read. Three paragraphs in, my stomach sank. Before I could address what Weston’s mother had so blatantly observed, Diem tore the pages from my hand and waved them at the distressed mother.
“What the fuck is this?”
“D.” I put a hand on his arm, but he shook me off.
Delaney didn’t flinch at Diem’s outburst. She stood her ground and lifted her chin. “That’s why I called you, Mr. Krause. That is a word-for-word short story depicting my son’s attempted murder.”
5
Diem
None of it computed. None of it made sense.
I read the story again, vaguely noting that Tallus had gone pale and quiet.
“And you found these pages inside that notebook?”
“Yes. It’s one of my son’s journaling books. He has all kinds and uses them for prewriting assignments for the newspaper. He jots research notes or ideas for future pieces inside. They contain first drafts or lists of materials he needs to look up online. You can see it’s almost full of notes and parts of articles he’s either written or wanted to write. I told you. This is what he wants to do for a living. Journalism is his passion.”
“But this”—I waved the printed pages—“is fiction.”
Delaney motioned to her listless son. “Is it? He’s not dead yet, Mr. Krause, but he’s as close as one can get.”
I stared from the story to the boy in the hospital bed. “So… you’re saying he wrote about this… incident before it happened?”
Delaney made a face that suggested I was stupid. “No. That’s absurd.”
“Then what the fuck are you saying?”
