Chapter 2

We walk for forever and three-quarters before the greenery begins to thin and the ground starts to slope downwards, revealing the shimmer of the river through the bushes. Beth is shivering, but I feel like I’m on fire. The fast pace is a culprit, since I’m not as good at working out as I should be, but it’s not just that. I still feel anxious. I tug on my silver bracelet, pulling it around my wrist so that the dragon is on top again. There are a few other etchings in the connecting plates: a spider, a paintbrush, a crown, a key. The last plate is blank. I don’t know why those images are there, in particular, but I’ve only taken the bracelet off a few times since I got it from my mother.

I suppose I always twist the dragon to the top because it reminds me of her. She had a sculpture in her studio of one and I remember comparing it to her as a child. Long-necked, graceful, strong, fiery, so pale her skin almost shone . . . it had just seemed obvious. When she disappeared, the sight of a dragon would always comfort me, as if she was still there with me and hadn’t run away. I have to admit that, even now, a small part of me only agreed to follow Hombre because the draw of a stranger taking me here, of all places, has provoked some child-like hope that she might just be sitting there on a rock, smiling and ready with some explanation. I just wish the rest of me could believe that that’s a real possibility, now. 

We push through a few more bushes, and the leaves and ivy finally make way for the jagged, moss-covered rocks which surround the river bed. It’s calm here, even though I remember a waterfall being further down, churning the water so that you’d never think it’d return to a peaceful flow. I know this part, though I’ve only been down this far a few times. This is where my mother first took me, isn’t it? Where the water was wide enough for me to meander, but not deep enough that I could easily slip under it. A lump forms in my throat, and I fiddle with my bracelet. I keep my eyes on the water, not daring to look around and have my hopes dashed once again.

 “So, I need Carmen �" ” Hombre looks at Alyssa and Beth, “and just Carmen �" to go out in the middle of the water.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Alyssa mutters, “Do I look like I want to go in there?”

“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Hombre quips, looking at Beth.

She’s already at the edge, staring at it. I don’t think she heard Hombre because she declares: “I’d do it. If you dared me.”

“I believe you.” Though he pretends to be annoyed, I can see him suppressing a grin. “I said just Carmen, though.”

I frown. It looks cold. “You want me to . . . what?”

“Wade into the water.”

“You brought us here so she could stand in a river?” Alyssa asks, giving him a look of disbelief. I can see her physically restrain herself from hitting him.

He notices, too, staring at her as she grips her wrist, though I notice that he doesn’t even flinch. Impressive. He asks, “Should I add in a ‘please?’”

“Well,” I say, and he turns back to me, “as nice as that would be, I’d prefer an explanation as to why.”

He sighs, tapping his foot impatiently, “I don’t know if that’ll actually help things, but fine, there’s a door in the river I need you to open.”

We all just stare at him.

He just stares back, though his eyes are locked solely on mine. I can’t hold his gaze for long, though, my eyes darting away as my teeth start tap-dancing on my lip again. This keeps getting weirder and weirder, and it’s only solidifying the stupid hope that my mother is sitting here, somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

“A door?” Beth asks, “Did you take something? Maybe we shouldn’t have let you drive.”

“You’re aware that’s a river, right?” I ask, trying to ground this back in reality, “And therefore shouldn’t have a door in it?”

“Even if there was,” Alyssa adds, looking at the water with a frown, “Wouldn’t it be impossible to lift open? What could you even put under a door in a river, anyways? Anything under it would get flooded out.”

Hombre shrugs. “Maybe you should go check it out, Carmen.”

“Why me?” I ask, frustrated.

He shrugs again, trying to look clueless.

Damn it. I sigh and turn towards the river. I’d rather be in cold water for a minute to shut him up than stand here arguing again for another thirty. My stomach is in knots being here again, anyways, so the quicker we leave, the better. I’m ashamed to admit, too, that the little, curious, hopeful part of me is wondering if there truly is a door, and, maybe, somewhere behind it, some answer about my mother.

I step across the smooth, stones, heading towards the water. I’m careful not to fall and split my head open, though the rocks get more slippery as I get closer to the edge. Somehow this makes me more determined to get across them, but when I finally reach the edge, I find myself pausing. I listen to the lapping of the water as I stare out towards the middle of the river, which still catches and throws back the faint light left over from the day. Well, I’m committed to this, now. The faster I can show Hombre there’s no door, the faster we can get back to the car. Moreover, the faster I can quash this stupid fairytale the little girl in me desperately wants to believe.

I take a deep breath and then step my mud-encrusted, zebra-print flat into the river. Though I’m afraid of it being pulled off my foot, I feel it connect easily with the bottom of the river bed. I don’t leave it in there long, though.

“Ah! Cold!” I yelp, pulling my foot back out.

“Want my sweatshirt?” Hombre asks. I can almost hear the grin in his voice.

I turn to glare at him. “I’ll just go back to the car and leave if you act like that.”

His smile evaporates to be replaced with a frustrated grimace, and I swear I’m seeing his irises swirl with red again. Really. I must be hallucinating, but this is twice now and I’m completely sober. What the hell? I feel lightheaded.

Hombre now says something that sounds like both a plea and a command, “Just get in the water, Carmen. Please.”

“Fine.” I say, which makes it feel more like this is my idea. I put my foot back into the water again, slowly, trying to get used to it. The cold seeps into me. Ankles, knees, thighs, and that’s as deep as it goes. My shorts are luckily still an inch above the water, so I guess at least I won’t have soaked, freezing clothes clinging to me once I’ve done this.

I take a few steps forward to humor him and am about to turn around and gloat, but my jaw drops open instead.

I see it. There’s a door. There’s a door with a glowing edge about five feet in front of me, lying flat on the riverbed. I turn, gaping, “There . . . what? I do see a door. Why is there a door?”

His face lights up, “You see it?”

With two huge strides he’s wading in after me, apparently immune to the cold. I can’t help but focus on his eyes as he draws nearer, but they’re same blue they always are, with no trace of red. But if I’m really seeing a door, now, did I actually see them change color? My stomach feels like it’s in a knot. What’s going on? Did I get slipped something?

“I don’t see anything,” Alyssa announces loudly, stepping forward to get a better look. Beth’s already started scrambling across the rocks to try to spot the glowing cracks.

Darien’s now next to me, and he turns to face me, frowning, as he asks, “Where is it? Show me.” His voice is commanding, again. Perhaps . . . desperate? I’m not sure. What is this door and why does it seem to matter so much to him? And why is it here, of all places?

“It’s right there. I mean, it should be obvious, it’s glowing.” He looks around, clearly not seeing something right in front of him. I frown and point to it, “You can’t see it? Right there?”

His eyes follow my finger, but he shakes his head, “No.” He lets out a frustrated growl, “Damn it! I don’t understand. I could see it before just fine, why is this different?” He looks at me again, demanding, “Open it!” I stare at him. He pauses, takes a breath, “Sorry. Too excited. I mean, is there any way you can open it?”

 “I guess I can try, since you asked nicely.” He smiles, though it’s tight on his face. I look away, trying to hide my own excitement, which has bubbled up beneath my confusion. Whether I’m trying to hide it from him or myself, though, I’m not sure. I wade over to the door. I can see what seems to be a divot on the side of it. It’s not exactly a handle, but I guess I can use it to pull up the slab of rock. I bend down, hooking my fingers in, wincing at both the weight of the door and the temperature of the water. I can feel the stone shift, so I pull a little harder.

With a sucking sound the door forces its way up through the current and stands open, water darting around it as if it doesn’t exist, forming a little Moses moment. Inside is a glowing, swirling mess of colors: emerald and cobalt and pink and scarlet and gold and violet and a thousand other colors in between. I just stare at it, mesmerized. I forget about the show we want to get to, the problem set I need to do, my general worries about life. What is this? Is this real?

“Thanks, chica,” Darien leans in close, whispering into my ear. It sounds almost sad, which surprises me. Shouldn’t he be happy? He seemed so determined to get here. That little, stupid part of me is ecstatic, singing with potentials and possibilities, trying to crowd out the rest of me, which is convinced this must somehow be a hallucination.

A shiver runs up my spine. I can sense Hombre just behind me, almost touching, but not quite. I swallow. My heart starts pounding, the anxiety back again. I almost step away from him, but stepping away would mean stepping into . . . whatever that is.

“Alright,” he says, “now, I need your bracelet.”

I blink, looking down to see an outstretched hand. I ask, “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it. You can take the car. I’m leaving this way.”

“Hey!” Alyssa shouts, and I glance over to see her gripping onto one of the trees that leans over the river, “What is that?”

Beth’s already lowering herself into the water, clearly itching to see what this thing is. Some part of me wants to walk back and talk it out, back safe in the car: Alyssa convincing us with some theory about how the lighting at dusk probably caused an odd reflection; Beth cracking some joke; myself starting the car and driving away from whatever this is, getting two drinks at the bar and chugging them before I call Cal and tell him this crazy story that I must’ve just made up in my head, just like I tell him all the crazy stories I think I’ve made up in my head. When he softly suggests it might be real, I’ll just laugh, tell him he’s wrong, and ask how he and his girlfriend are doing. More likely, I’ll probably just never tell him anything at all. I taste blood from my lip, mixing with that bitter, remembered taste of ash and I feel, suddenly, like puking.

Hombre snaps my attention back to him with a sharp, “Carmen.” I look at him, wide-eyed, and he shakes his head, his hand starting to reach up to my face. He seems to have done it unintentionally, as he quickly pulls it back down, saying, “You shouldn’t chew your lip like that, it’s bleeding.” I blink, and he looks away slightly, his tone more insistent, “I need the bracelet.”

“Why?” I ask again, looking back at him.

He looks upset. I’m a bit upset myself. It’s my bracelet. If this all turns out to be some fantasy and I’m still never going to see my mother again, this is the only thing I have left.

“Carmen, come on.” I turn away from him as he begs, softly, “Please. It’s important.”

I look down into the swirling water and I swear I can see her, buried in the rainbow of colors. “Carmen,” my mother says, “Carmen, I love you.”

I know this part, right? The part where she turns and leaves. I’ve seen it a million times. But this time . . . something’s different. There’s a sharp pain in my chest as some shadow seems to clutter the memory, and I feel something light brush against my skin, almost like cobwebs. I shiver as my mother smiles at me, turning to walk away. The shadow is still there, though, layered over this disappearing woman, and it lets out a scream as it twists away from something I can’t make out.

“Carmen!” It shrieks, “Carmen, you have to leave! You have to leave now!”

It’s as if my body isn’t mine. I can feel a strange tingling in my hands that accompanies the pain in my chest, and I get this distinct feeling that if I let Hombre leave without me I’m making a mistake.

Maybe I do it to follow my mother, as I see her joyous form saunter away. Perhaps I do it because the words of the shadow commanded me and I feel a strong tug at my wrist, as if I’m being dragged forward. Probably some part of me is still smarting because Hombre’s trying to take the only thing connecting me to that far-off woman and it wants to piss him off. But, regardless of the reason, there are only two small steps before I’m over the little, swirling opening and it’s pulling me in.

A hand darts out, grabbing my wrist, and I know it’s Darien’s, but it’s a little too late to stop me.

The door sucks me down, gripping me solidly, and suddenly I’m panicking at my impulsivity. I’m remembering the other part of the memory, now, after my mother leaves, the part where Cal pulls me up into his arms as she steps into the car.

He whispers in my ear, “Carmen, I won’t let you go. Family should stay together, and we, the two of us, are family, no matter what they do to ruin it.”

Tears prick at my vision, as I remember my big brother, working all the time for me, saving up everything for me, giving up on his dreams for me. What am I doing? I should’ve made that phone call, at least, so I could’ve heard his voice one last time. What if I never hear it again? What if I never hear his voice? What if I’ve totally screwed up everything he’s worked for? Everything he’s given up?

But, even as I panic, it’s as though some other part of me is soothed. What causes it, I’m not sure. It may be the strange weight-less sensation, the way the colors seem to welcome me in as they tug me down amongst them, but somehow I feel that he would bless this.

Hombre’s voice echoes out in protest as he continues to struggle, trying to pull me back up, “Carmen, you’re not supposed to go!” Well, it’s too late, now. Uncomfortable, I try to shake his grip, but that only makes him strengthen it. It’s not a question, now, he’s being dragged down with me, too.

Shouts and splashing follow us. My stomach turns over on itself as I realize what that means. I don’t want Beth and Alyssa to come after me! I try to turn and tell them to stay, but my voice is swallowed up and whatever echoes of the river there were are now erased as the silence welcomes me �" well, I guess, us.

Ohhhh . . . Carmen, what have you gotten into?

Author's Note

Pretty sure this is the final version for this, too, but let me know if you see anything!

Reviews

[shelbylugal]

"... just Carmen " to go out in the middle of the water.” You have an extra " between Carmen and to
"...so I guess at least I won’t have soaked, freezing clothes clinging to me once I’ve done this." Why would she guess she won't have freezing clothes when she knows that they're too far up to be touched by the water? I'd just put it as "... so at least I won't have ..."
"...welcomes me " well, I guess, us"..." Another random "

Hmmm, getting interesting now. A few things are beginning to "fall" into place. Get it? Because she fell into the... okay, anyway. I like the direction this is headed in. I'm getting a bit confused on the characteristics of the two secondary characters. I know in the first chapter one was characterized by batting her doe eyes, saying stuff such as "but, like, then so and so happened," is she the one who was clenching her fist? I feel like she wouldn't do that

[Emma Olsen]

Whoa, weird. I don't know where those "s are coming from. Thank you for pointing them out.
I don't think so? Are you talking about where Alyssa's about to hit Darien? She's the one who's a bit abrasive. Unless I'm missing what you're talking about. =P Beth would probably grab onto something/someone. Are there areas where you're losing track of who they are or anything?

Thank you for the review!

[Forgotten14]

I think I forgot to comment on this when I read it last time.
I feel like it has that small hint of Narnia when it comes to a random door being in the middle of a river, and I think that's pretty cool because I love Narnia and it's entire series. I love Carmens connection with the bracelet, I think I'd be difficult for just anyone to let go of a piece of their family. It has a nice piece of, maybe not mystery, but enough suspicion to keep a person going. Keep it up~

[Emma Olsen]

Thanks, dude! I just realized - I have half of that edit to do, still. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long! I got side-tracked.

[Forgotten14]

No problem, I honestly kind of forgot that it existed. Take you're time~

[Nonnye]

Hi,
You nailed it! I was completely in the story being pulled along as Carmine and her friends inter the journey. No stumbling blocks that distracted me. Thanks for letting me know about the re write.
Nonnye

[Emma Olsen]

Awesome. =) Thank you for pointing me to what needed to be fixed!

[Nonnye]

Hi again.
Again very clear characterization however, why did Carmine do something so nuts? My reason for asking this is because, although I really want to know if there is a door there, what is behind the door, what it has to do with the bracelet, what happened to her mom, all that. (Basically I'm hooked!). But I'm not convinced that she would have done something so odd as to walk out into a lake at the command/request of a boy she barely knows. Not understanding why she would take those steps has distracted me. And that question imposes itself on my consciousness as I read the rest of the story effectively keeping me from becoming absorbed in the story. So my recommendation is: develop a scenario where it would be convincing. Back to being hooked. It is so nice to read a story that hooks me in the first few paragraphs, and maintains that. Your story has done just that. You have strong characters in the three girls particularly and you have, for me, created a mystery regarding Hombre. You've painted a good picture of the surrounding also.
Thanks
Nonnye

[Emma Olsen]

Thank you for the comments! I get where you're coming from. I'll work on it so it doesn't seem so strange. I was hoping this was going to come off as enough motivation, but I guess I didn't do enough. haha I'll work on it, thank you!

[Emma Olsen]

Hey, I just uploaded a new version. Whenever you have some time, could you tell me if I've fixed some of the motivation problems? Thank you! =)

[Scott Cockwell]

This was awesome! I couldn't take my eyes off of it. There's only good things that I can say about it.

I am a little confused though, was the door standing, or lying flat in the water?
Also, “So, I need Carmen " ”. What is that symbol next to Carmen? Is it a typo?

[Emma Olsen]

Weird, I think it's some kind of formatting typo where extra quotations got in or something? Thanks for pointing it out, I'll see if it's in my original copy.
It's supposed to be lying flat - I'll clarify. Any points in particular that lead to the confusion.
And I'm glad you like it! =) That's good to hear. If anything comes to mind later, though, please tell me! =)

[Scott Cockwell]

It was at this point that confused me. 'I see it. There’s a door. There’s a door with a glowing edge about five feet in front of me. I turn and give him a look. ' To me, it makes it sound like it standing in front of her.

[Emma Olsen]

Okay, I can edit it. Thanks!