Running Water

“Fern, I have to talk to you,” Noah whispered, shaking her gently. She fought with her eyelids for a minute before noticing how badly her head hurt.

“What?” Fern mumbled, pulling a bobby pin out of her knotted hair. She faced Noah, mostly asleep, but now alert enough to realize how badly her back hurt as well from sleeping in the grass.

It didn’t matter though, she was sure the most beautiful things went on while she was dreaming. The universe was probably perfect and colorful and bursting with information that was too whimsical and imaginative to actually call information.

Yes, she was absolutely sure of it.

“Did your mom really die?” Noah blurted it out, leaving behind his cool manner and biting his lip. There was nothing nice about it, it was blunt and the words came out of his mouth horribly misshapen and not how he had planned it at all.

She only looked at him. Her mouth wasn’t hanging open, she wasn’t shocked. She wasn’t screaming at him, she wasn’t crying in this big confession or choking on all of the things she should say but couldn’t think of.

“No.” That was it, just no. Fern gave him no hint as to what she was feeling as she rolled onto her back and looked straight up at the sky.

“She is very much alive, actually,” Now Fern’s voice was small and soft, something Noah wasn’t used to from her. It was odd, and though Noah wanted to be angry, he found his voice just as gentle as hers.

“Why would you tell me she was dead?” Fern only shrugged, still looking up at the grey above them.

“Because I wanted someone to think I was interesting. Why would you want anyone to think you’re dull?” It made sense, but Noah didn’t appreciate it. Still, though, he could not raise his voice or change his tone.

“Fern, you are interesting. Your mom being alive or dead has nothing to do with it.” Fern smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile, the kind you see when that fifteen year old wears that boy’s letterman jacket. It was more like the frustrating and odd ones adults made when you were young, when a joke went over your head or you didn’t understand why it was bad when Mommy couldn't pay the bills.

“I’m not interesting, though. Your idea of me is. Everyone’s idea of me is. I’m not always who I seem to be.” Noah didn’t bother looking into that, just rolled his eyes and got up, off of the ground, angry and confused. He felt betrayed.

“Hey, if your mom wasn’t dead, where was she?” Noah’s sudden question caught Fern off-guard this time, and she took in a deep breath before standing up as well and answering.

“She left us, and I know where she is now, sort of. Wait, Noah? How did you find out?” She looked him straight in the eye, curious and mildly sad. She felt like a weight had been placed on her chest. It wasn’t too heavy yet. Noah put up his finger, telling her to wait as he jogged over to the car and grabbing his worn sweatshirt. He pulled out a few envelopes from the kangaroo pouch, walking back to her and handing them over.

She caressed each one, taking in the feel of old paper and pulling out letters. She swallowed and mumbled, “Oh.”

“Yeah. I found them in your room,” He explained, slipping the sweatshirt on over his head. She didn’t give them back to him, choosing to instead hold onto them herself. Noah grabbed her free hand with his own, trying to read her face as they strolled back to the car, somehow comfortable in their mutual uneasiness.