Maybe he lied, and he is terminally ill. Fear constricts my chest. I shake him a little even though I want to scream at him.Did you lie to me, River McFarley? Are you dying? Are you dying now?
I get so caught up in this fear that I feel dizzy. I have no idea what to do, so I shake him harder, but he doesn’t budge. He just lies there like Sleeping Beauty in her hundred-year sleep.
Worried, I sit next to him. Should I get a doctor? What if he has a fever? I gently touch his sweat-drenched forehead, but it feels cool. He finally opens his eyes.
For a moment, he’s frozen, and then his gaze wanders around the room. He looks terminally ill, like just moving his eyes around is costing him his last strength. Only after a while does he discover me.
“Tucks,” he says with a serious tone. “Go slacklining. Practice some more for the end of summer, okay?”
I could shake him. I don’t want to practice for September. I don’t want to go to a highline at all. I want him to stop sleeping like the dead.
He closes his eyes again. Okay, if he doesn’t have a fever, what’s wrong with him? I’m starting to feel like I’m going crazy. The phone is still off, and when I press it a few times, nothing happens. Fantastic!
I pace up and down like a tiger in a cage. At some point, I clean the room out of sheer nervousness and frustration. Since I don’t have a cleaning rag, I use a fresh sock from River and motel soap. I pat everything dry with toilet paper. After I’ve polished the shower and sink to a high shine, I sit next to River on the bed. He’s taken off all his clothes but his boxers, and his eyes are open.
Will you stay awake now? I thought you never slept!I write on a piece of paper because the phone is still dead.
“Do I hear reproach in your voice, Connecticut?” River asks sternly but with a pained smile. He makes no move to get up.
I nudge him lightly in the side.Yes, I nod.
“You know, it’s different for me than for ordinary people. When I’m awake, it’s usually for many days; when I sleep, I sleep for a long time.”
Are you trying to tell me that you’re the only person in the universe who has a completely different sleep cycle?
He nods weakly. “Promise me something.”
Okay.I write extra small to save space since the pad only has a few pages left. And an eraser wouldn’t be bad.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t jump without me. Can you promise me that?”
Can I promise him that? I have to swallow.I would never jump without you.
He smiles and closes his eyes as if that answer was the only reason he remained awake.
I sit there for a while and study him—his closed eyelids, his extraordinary mouth, his blond hair. The roots are darker, as if his hair was dyed, but maybe that’s only because it’s sweaty. The light blond strand has a tiny green hue. I gently brush it out of his face and tuck it behind his ear.
“Tucks,” he groans and rolls onto his side. He blindly gropes for my hand, and I put it in his. He hugs it reflexively and mumbles something I don’t understand. I squeeze his fingers.
“We have to find your mom,” he murmurs. “Item four on your list; Ask Mom why. We have to go to Vegas.”
Two days pass, and River is still sleeping. He hardly eats or drinks anything. When he’s awake, he looks like all the world’s problems are on his shoulders. My fear grows into a dull panic.
This morning, I eat the last of the beef jerky and realize a few things: one, summer has long since started, and two, I have to go to the nearest grocery store today.
When River didn’t get up this afternoon, I gave up hope that he could go shopping with me. So, I have to do it myself. To be on the safe side, I put the pad and pen in my pocket so that I can communicate in an emergency. Luckily, my jeans, which I washed with the rest of the shower gel, are already dry, so I don’t have to go shopping in River’s oversized pants.
“Hey,” Riv murmurs as I pull the bat blouse over my head. “So chic. Where you going?”
Shopping, I write on the pad.
He furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do anything stupid. Promise.”
I promise.
“Pinky swear?”
I smile, walk over to him, and hook our little fingers together.
