The Puzzle Master by Heather Spiva

there.
    Marshall sat on his bed. He wanted to turn the air on. It was so early, but so hot. After the bike race, he was sticking to his clothes and it made him itchy all over. He thought some more about Iris, and what it was like to keep switching from house to house from year to year with various family members. It had to be confusing, never fully knowing how the day was going to end.
    He licked his lips and tried to relax on his bed. He couldn’t. He needed water; something cold to jump in. He could imagine the calm—the refreshing feel. Where could he go if Jerry wasn’t well enough to invite him over to the pool?
    “The river,” he said out loud. “Of course.” A few blocks away, and even further down the hill where he lived was a park that led to a fork of the river, the main one that ran through the city; the American River. His parents wouldn’t let him go alone, or swim alone for that matter, but just to touch his toes in the water, or to splash some of it on his skin, would be perfect.
    He snapped off of his bed, grabbed his inhaler and headed to his bike. He didn’t dare ask Mason to go with him. He’d probably just say no anyway.
    His mom was working in the kitchen, making pancakes for them. It was Leila’s second breakfast. He rolled his eyes.
    “Where are you going?” she asked. A dishtowel was draped over her shoulder, and she was flipping the pancakes like she was swatting flies.
    “Was going to the river, you know, Fool’s Landing .”
    She nodded.
    “Where’s Dad?” Marshall asked.
    “He’s at the office.”
    “Again?”
    She didn’t say anything, but kept right on tossing the flapjacks. She piled them onto a plate, and set them on the table.
    “Just make sure you don’t go in the water. There’ve been enough drownings reported there this year already. We don’t need anymore.” He figured that was her way of saying to take care of himself .
    “’Kay mom.” Marshall grabbed a couple of pancakes and stuffed them into his pocket. His mother looked at him, but said nothing, just a flick of her eyebrows. “I’ll be back before lunch.”
    The ride was short and it was getting hotter. That crisp autumn smell from a few minutes ago was gone, and he rode slowly, trying to keep his breathing regular. The heat could make him turn like a top if he wasn’t careful. He patted his shirt pocket. The inhaler was there.
    He locked his bike up at a bike rack once there, and walked the rest of the way to the water’s edge. Only a couple of fishermen were there and it was already late. The salmon only bit well in the early morning, or late at night. He wanted to tell them they were wasting their time, but didn’t.
    He walked a ways on the rocky shore to where no one was around. The water was tranquil, and soft, and down about two feet from where it was before summer began.
    He’d gone fishing for years there with his father and brother. It had been his dad’s favorite spot. But ever since Leila was born, his father didn’t have the time anymore or didn’t want to. Marshall picked up a smooth small stone and tossed it into the water.
    Either way, fishing was no longer a part of their activities. “Dumb sister,” he muttered. He pondered at her ability to destroy just about everything good in his life. He threw another stone, and it sunk deep into the water.
    Marshall picked up a larger and almost square stone. “This is for the stupid club at school.” He threw it further than the first, and it bounced once and sunk like a dead fish. He watched it fall through the water to where he couldn’t see it anymore.
    He picked up another stone. This one was flat, and oblong: a perfect skipping stone. He flung it and snapped his wrist as quick as he could, just like his dad had shown him; quick, sharp, like a whip. “This is for Iris’ stupid cancer, and my lame asthma.”
    The stone skipped six times, and sunk. That was the most he’d ever skipped a stone. He smiled. Finally, something good.
    A