Page 45 of It's Me They Follow
The Shopkeeper searched for a topic that would take her attention off the cars coming toward her at preposterous speeds.
“I want a water birth,” Elle said sleepily.
“Why?” The Shopkeeper could not understand why Elle overcomplicated already complicated things. First, she wanted a home birth; now she wanted a home birth in a pool of water. “Sounds unnecessarily risky if you ask me. You’re having a baby, not a shark.”
“Didn’t ask you.”
The Shopkeeper waited an extra-long time to respond as she searched for a clever comeback. Then realized Elle was snoring beside her. The Shopkeeper knew being in the tunnel reminded them both of their grandfather. It was his special place; maybe that was why Elle had finally relaxed and gone to sleep.
“Something I read.” Elle popped up again. “It said babies born underwater are calmer, like dolphins.” She faded, then woke up. “They speak to me in my dreams.” She was oddly at ease, dreaming and therefore not making much sense. Driving underwater slowed both their minds and their bodies.
“Who speaks to you? Babies or dolphins?” The Shopkeeper asked.
“Both.”
“In English?” The Shopkeeper laughed, not sure what Elle meant.
“They speak to me in dolphin. You know how I hit that high note when I am in pain? Yeah, that’s my dolphin side coming out.”
The Shopkeeper laughed some more. She missed talking to Elle when she was asleep. “And what do they say to you in dolphin?” she asked, then leaned closer to her sister so she could hear.
“They say, ‘Tell Gee she’s driving too damn slow and she’s gonna get us killed.’” Elle kept her eyes closed.
The Shopkeeper cracked the window and felt the moisture of the wet tunnel fill the air.I must speak turtle, The Shopkeeper thought, hunching over the steering wheel because she didn’t understand anything Elle was saying.
“Dolphins spoke to Ms. Harriett too,” The Shopkeeper added. She ignored her sister. “Ms. Harriett said our ancestors left our stories with the dolphins. Ancestors who didn’t make it through the Middle Passage stayed with the dolphins instead, and they became one people.” The Shopkeeper guessed that was why she felt safe with the mystical creatures, air breathers who thrived underwater and spoke and sang. They were her family.
“I wish you’d get outta your head. You have to drive faster, or you’llcause an accident,” Elle insisted. “No make pretend.”
“Or I can drive faster and cause a worse accident. I can only drive as fast as I can drive.” A long tail of cars with bright red brake lights was forming behind them. She didn’t care.Maybe we all need to slow down.She turned on her hazards. “Happy?” The clicking noise was like a heartbeat, steady and reliable. “I am slowing time,” she said to the rhythm of the hazards. “I am slowing time.” Her nerves were no longer unnerved; her heart was no longer racing. She was moving slow because she was slowing time.
“You have to be careful,” Elle said. “Don’t slow it too much.”
The Shopkeeper wished her sister would either fully wake up and say something of substance or stop speaking and stay asleep. She wanted the dolphins and the never-ending tunnel and their grandfather and his stories all to herself while she drove.
“We need a game,” Elle said, after another moment of prolonged silence when The Shopkeeper was simply breathing and thinking.
The sisters gamified anything too hard to face head-on. “I’m gonna lay down my burdens / Down by the riverside / Down by the riverside / Down by the riverside.” The Shopkeeper was surprised to hear Elle sing their grandfather’s favorite song, and then The Shopkeeper started humming along, then singing, then tapping fingers on the steeringwheel while thinking of all the water they couldn’t see around them. She wished they’d made the walls of the never-ending tunnel see through. “I’m gonna lay down my burdens / Down by the riverside / I ain’t gonna study war no more.”
“I have a game,” Elle said. “The game is, every time someone sings the beginning of grandfather’s song, ‘I’m gonna lay down my burdens,’ they have to end it by sharing a burden they wish they could lay down. You have to share on beat. No hesitation.”
“I wish you’d lay down the burden of youknowwho, and you know why.” Her sister sang and clapped her hands like they were in a church choir.
“Down by the riverside.”
This was Harriett’s song as well, The Shopkeeper remembered—a coded message for those seeking freedom. It told them where to meet her and when, and what to let go of to make it to the other side.
“Down by the riverside.”
“Lay down the burden of losing another baby,” The Shopkeeper blurted. It came out before she could take it back.
Her sister got quiet. Then continued clapping.
“Down by the riverside.”
“I wish you’d lay down the burden of being lonely forever because you can’t allow yourself to touch anyone orbe touched, which really means that you’re emotionally stunted, and I am going to have to take care of you and come to your rescue for the rest of your life,” Elle retorted, strong and offbeat. “Lay that burden down so you can meet someone nice, like ME, and settle down.”
The Shopkeeper got quiet. That was not how the game was supposed to go. She swallowed hard and then went back to singing, even with tears in her eyes and cars whizzing into the opposing lane to go around her.
