The Lake of Dreams - Kim Edwards [75]
I kept walking, taking a deep breath to calm myself, because it mattered to be calm, I knew.
“Hey, Max,” I said, as evenly as I could, when I got close enough. “Hey there, fearless leader. What’re you doing?”
He turned and looked over his shoulder, smiling with excitement.
“I’m watching the water. It’s neat. I can see shapes in it, can you?”
“That really is neat,” I said, climbing up on the nearest pier, slowly, so I wouldn’t startle him. I didn’t step onto the concrete platform because I couldn’t tell how strong it was. Max was looking down again, studying the water, swirling and brown. I could see why he was so fascinated; at this point the outlet narrowed, and the water was forced through the banks with a wild rushing force, shape-shifting and mesmerizing. The tips of his flashy sneakers extended an inch into thin air. Please, I thought, let me say the right thing. “Hey, could you step back a little, Max? ’Cause your dad just called, and I have something to tell you.”
He didn’t. For a long moment we both just stood where we were, Max staring at the mesmerizing water, all its froth and force, tree branches and litter traveling on its surface, pulled abruptly under.
“Max?”
He turned around. He took one step, then another. I took his hand, and wouldn’t let him pull away when he tried to.
“Let’s jump,” I said, and we did, landing on the muddy earth.
“Ouch,” he said. “That was too far.”
“Hold my hand again,” I said, in a firm but friendly way. This time he did.
“What did my dad say?”
“Oh, he said it’s time to come home.”
“He did?”
“He did.”
“Okay.”
Max pulled away from me again on the way back, but not until I’d made him promise to stay close, and this time I kept up with him, I didn’t let him get out of reach. I was exhausted by the time we reached the glassworks. Keegan was standing at the edge of the road, talking with a man who had brought a load of sand. I was still shaking from what had almost happened. Max ran up and flung his arms around Keegan as if nothing had happened, and Keegan reached down absently, tousling Max’s dark curls while he kept talking. Finally, Keegan shook the supplier’s hand and took a step back, turning his full attention to Max.
“Hey, Max. How was the walk?”
“I showed her the trail,” he said. “I told her I knew the way, and I did.”
“He did,” I agreed, and then I told Keegan briefly what had happened, how Max had run ahead and found a lookout place right above the swirling waters. Keegan listened, his face growing as masked as it once had when we were children bearing schoolyard taunts, and when I finished he squatted down and took Max by the shoulders.
“Max. What do you think would happen if you fell in the river?”
“I didn’t fall.”
“I know. And I’m glad. But what if?”
“It would take me away like the branch,” Max said.
“It would take you away,” Keegan agreed, very serious. “And you wouldn’t be able to get back. And I would be so sad. My whole heart would break. Don’t do that again, Max. You understand? You don’t go near the water. You know that.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I nearly stopped breathing when I saw where he was. I just keep thinking how horrible it would be if—”
“Lucy. Stop.” Keegan’s voice was calm, but firm. He stood up and sent Max to sit on a nearby bench for a minute, then caught my hand, his palms calloused from his work with fire. “Look, nothing happened, right? Trust me, if I spent every moment of parenthood doing the what-ifs, I’d drive myself absolutely crazy. Max is a handful. I should have gone with you. But everyone is just fine. So that’s a moment where we don’t have to linger.”
“All right,” I said, though I knew I’d carry that image of Max standing so calmly at the edge