For This Summer To End

The last summer storm brought another foot of water to the normally calm stream. The water gushed passed, branches from toppling trees, and stolen items from the distance campsite being tossed about in its wake. Sitting on the side of the slopped drop-off, a young mother looked down at the once shallow passage. It was usually just more than a trickle – the tiniest of creeks, just deep enough for a child to wet their feet. Not too deep for a mother to worry.

Perched atop the damped grass, she ran her fingers through the growing weeds. Delicate golden flowers parted between her fingers. She dug her grip into the grass, letting the softness of the foliage embrace her fingers. Dirt wedged its way under her once polished nails. She tightened her grasp, yanking those innocent flowers from the soil they had made roost in. Holding the flowers to her face, she narrowed her gaze at the vibrant petals.

Weeds.

That’s what they really were. Not flowers. Despite the golden rays that made up those thousands of petals, and the promises of wishes that were soon to bloom, they were weeds. Their petals were worthless. Their wishes were curses.

With an animalistic growl, the young mother drew her arm back. She threw the flowers, picturing them hurling down into the rapids and being smothered within those waves. She wanted to watch them get lost in the water, to topple about and struggle to surface. She wanted to watch them drown. It was only fair. It was only right.

Watching the dandelion so elegantly dance through the wind, she found herself making that wish.

The petals touched the surface of the water. They floated, being bobbed about as the newfound river carried them further down stream. A frog croaked across the way. In the rustling of the trees, she could briefly see a family of deer picking their way carefully through the debris. A fawn crossed into the clearing. It raised its gaze, locking onto the woman kneeling across the river. It froze, lungs refusing to release as the young deer took on the newfound threat. A single paw was raised and pressed slowly into the ground. It bucked itself up, attempting to appear larger and more intimidating than it could ever be. The fawn squared up against her, both trembling in fear and daring for a fight.

A snap of a branch behind her caused the deer to frighten. It dashed away, the much larger duo moving right on its heels. She watched the little family rush back into the woods. Away from her. Away from the river. Away from the danger.

“This isn’t healthy, Alice.”

She rolled her eyes at the voice. He spoke softly – with a loving and concerned tone that only drew her ire deeper from her chest. He walked slowly, placing a heavy hand on her jacket clad shoulder. She shoved him off, refusing to break her gaze from the floating water. Another tree branch passed by her, as did a candy wrapper and a bright blue water bottle.

Summer often brought campers to the woodland beyond their home. The on-slaughter of thunder storms, and the following flooding had not tampered people’s summer desire. Oh how she use to love the campsite just beyond the tree line; the smell of s'mores through the night, the laughter of young children, the friends that only existed in the summer, but made those months all the better. Summer had been her heaven for so long.

This summer though… this summer had been the furthest thing from heaven.

Her knees sunk deeper into the wet grass. The dirt had slowly begun to turn to mud. A sprinkle of rain had begun to fall. She hadn’t noticed until this moment.

“I think it’s time you come inside.” He once more reached for her shoulder. She once more shoved him off.

“No.”

“No?” His tone shifted, a hint of irritation crossing into it. “For god’s sake, Alice, you can’t keep sitting out here. It won’t bring him back.”

She whirled about, locking her gaze tightly onto him. “Fuck you… I know that. You think I don’t? But I just…”

The step back he took in alarm caused her anger to smother in her throat. He looked unkempt; his hair stuck in wild directions, a stain on the t-shirt he’d been wearing almost all week, mismatched shoes on his feet, matching trails cutting down his cheeks, from his red rimmed eyes. Grief had been hitting him hard. It had been hitting her as well. She wanted to argue that it was hitting her harder, but she knew that to not be true. It was a petty thought, a vindictive idea that festered in her anger.

He had lost their son just as she had. He was grieving just as much as she was. She hoped grieving hurt him.

Her throat constricted. Turning away from him, Alice brought her gaze back to the river. The water continued to rush passed, dragging its stolen collection downstream. Birds were chirping happily from the tree branches high above their heads. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of a campsite turning its music up. The smell of barbecue touched the air. It was peaceful out here. That was one positive she had tried to convince herself – at least it had been peaceful place to pass, even if it hadn’t been a peaceful way to go.

Alice dug her fingers into the grass once more. She’d pulled up all the weeds.

Her hand went to the stuffed bear beside her, fingers tight against the coarse fur. Its blank eyes were directed down the slope, towards the fast moving waters and the collection of rocks. She focused her gaze just the same. “It feels wrong whenever I leave. Like I’m leaving him here. I just… I can’t leave him. Not again.”

Sitting beside her, her husband allowed his feet to rest on the slope. The rushing waters were a few inches from his mismatched shoes. He placed his hand out, not touching hers but just a hairs away to offer an opening of comfort. She didn’t take it, choosing instead to dig her hand harder into the mud.

It was still raining. It had been doing so a lot this summer. The newly formed river was a show of just how it had rained.

He did not speak for a moment. His gaze followed the floating corpse of a drowned squirrel that passed them. The way the little body was battered down the riverside was disturbing. A current caught it, sending it towards a close embankment. The same embankment they had found Freddy face down in. Thankfully the current took the squirrel further down the stream so the young couple didn’t need to stare at another corpse caught in the rocks.

“Alice…” his voice was soft, but he continued to speak the wrong words. “You know he isn’t here.”

Her teeth ground tight against each other. She wanted to rage at him that, of course she knew. Of course she knew that their toddler son wasn’t in these woods, he wasn’t at the waters edge, he wasn’t in their home waiting for his mother to come and kiss the wounds on his head.

He wasn’t here.

But if he wasn’t here… than he was elsewhere. He was buried deep under the ground. He was locked in a wooden box, resting in an eternal sleep until the earth took him once more. He was away from her, with water poisoned in his lungs and cries trapped in his throat. If he wasn’t here, than she couldn’t be with him.

The sun never seemed to stop climbing into the sky. She used to love that part of summer. That the sun would peak its face out so early, and fight for so long to remained alighted in the sky. The long summer days had always been her safety.

Freddy had loved the summer for the same reason. He had hated the darkness. The little nightlight that brightened his bedroom had been a bright yellow sun, with a smile crafted across the plastic surface. The first stretch of the sun’s rays against the turning sky would drag him from his sleep, and he would tumble out of bed, ready to greet the day before it was ready to greet him. If the sky was awake, he would laugh as they tried to sleep in, then he would have to be awake as well.

She now hated the bright summer sun. It remained in the sky, never wanting to fall and let summer pass with it. In the same thought, she was thankful for that constantly lingering sunlight. Freddy loved the sun.

The rain continued to fall in a lazy pattern. The droplets bounced across the water’s surface. Despite the rain, the sky was still bright with the summer sun. The distant sound of campers was not quelled by the slight weather change.

Her jacket grew damp as the rain fell on her. The water soaked into her tangled hair, leaving the deflated curls clinging to the base of her neck. She could no longer tell what was tear tracks from her dark rimmed eyes, and what was a dribbling of rain down her face.

“There’s a buyer on the house.” Her husband’s voice continued beside her. She only paid it half of her mind. “It’s below market value, but the Realtor thinks its the best we can do in this economy. We’ll be able to cover the funeral costs. Have a down payment on an apartment. Have some money to float us for another few months. Your work called, they wanna know when you’ll be coming back. I told them you’d call them back later this week.”

She stopped listening to him.

The campsite was coming more to life deep in the trees. They were playing party music, song’s she knew would mean people dancing and enjoying themselves. She could hear children laughing, their innocent shouts of joy caused her heart to tighten within her ribs.

Summer was for the youthful.

Deep in the tree lines, she could see movement. The fawn had returned, peaking its fur coated head around a tree. It darted back. A moment later the young creature pocked its head out once more. Alice watched it, not spotting the older deer's. As the little deer crept closer to her – crept closer to the water – she wondered how they could have let their young out of their eyesight.

Glancing once more at the man sitting beside her, she wondered that question for her own lost young one. All it had taken was one moment of him taking his eyes off.

He reached out to take her hand. “Please, talk to me, Alice.”

She allowed him to tightened his grip around her finger’s before she drew her hand away. She wrapped them around the stuffed bear beside her. Mud now stained the tanned fabric of the toy.

The fawn continued to wander towards them as silence grew heavy.

She kept her gaze on the young deer as it approached the waters edge. It bowed its head to take a drink, eyes still raised to remain on them. From behind a tree, maybe ten yards away, the antlers of a male deer could be seen as the beast watched over protectively.

“I want a divorce.”

Her words were spoken softly, but they held the same power as the rushing summer river below them. Nothing was said between them as the woodlands continued about its season. The fawn, now satisfied, trotted back to the elder. It nuzzled itself against the much larger breast of the male deer, before it was led back into the woods where another awaited.

The ever-burning sun sat high in the sky as the distant campsite continued to grow in volume. The sounds of more campers arriving brought more life to the lots. She could picture the families now, setting up their tents, burning their marshmallows, grabbing their canoes and heading out to paddle through the unusually high river.

If she went into the waters below her, she wondered if the newfound current would drag her into the embankment one of those family’s had made camp on, or if it would drown her in the same place, it had drowned Freddy.

She let the thought pass with a begrudging acceptance. Her grip tightened on Freddy’s stuffed bear.

This summer was meant to be their best. But now all she wanted was for this summer to end.

Her husband looked like he wanted to say something further. Whatever it was, got caught in the base of his throat. Instead, he withdrew his hand and made to stand, foot sliding against the muddy embankment as he did so.

For a moment, his weight shifted towards the nearly formed river. He righted himself, staring down at the flowing water and the collection of rocks that had broken their family.

A dark thought crossed Alice’s mind – that she almost wished he’d slipped on that wet grass and fallen into the unusually high waters the same way he had let Freddy. Maybe than, once one more body became engulfed in the current, this endless summer would end.