Watery Graves by Kelli Bradicich Page B

raped.”
    Sebastian threw up his hand s. “See that’s why you shouldn’t read papers and you should get out and walk around town once in a while.”
    “Bad things happen out in the world. I like it here.”
    “What you read in the papers are the worst days in people’s regular everyday lives. Most of the time things go pretty smoothly.”
    “My whole family drowned,” Ingrid said. “That’s pretty bad. Nothing smooth about that. Kind of freaky really.”
    “I will be with her every second we are at the river bank,” Sebastian added.
    “I’m not swimming,” said Emmy.
    “See? She’s not swimming,” said Sebastian.
    “I didn’t say I was going.”
    “You just did.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “You did indirectly,” Kristian said, and grinned.
    Ingrid and Maya were locked in silent communication. They could speak without speaking. Emmy wanted to pull her mother’s gaze away but it was too late.
    “Maybe, it is time,” her mother said. “Let me think about it.”
    *
    Not far from the shore, Emmy stood knee deep in the river. For the first time, Kristian didn’t inspect it for her. He sat up with Ingrid and Maya, shaded by a pine tree. Sebastian was closer to the shore line. But she had the very real sense that she was on her own.
    She knelt down, wetting her arms and face. This whole swimming thing was taking on a new purpose now that it looked like she might have to hang out by some stupid river bank.
    “It’s getting shallow right the way across,” Kristian called. “I expect you could walk it soon.”
    “I don’t like this,” Ingrid yelled. “We should stop.”
    “No it’s clear, Ingrid,” Kristian said.
    Sebastian handed Emmy a float.
    “No. Do it on your own,” Maya managed to call. She was wrapped in a blanket and propped against Kristian. “Don’t be afraid.”
    Kristian glanced at Ingrid, then down at Emmy. “What do you want to do?”
    “It’s shallow most of the way,” Sebastian added.
    “Let her go,” Ingrid called.
    “You heard her,” Sebastian grinned. “You’re free to swim.”
    Maya cupped her hands . “If you get tired, float,” she called to Emmy. “Hold your breath. Puff out your chest. And float. Don’t be afraid.”
    Ingrid nodded, her face stony and grey. “Fine. It’ll be okay.”
    If Emmy thought too much about what her mother might be thinking, her nerves took her over. When it came time to swim, the urge to run was overpowering. Maya was usually beside her counter-arguing any fears. Instead she looked up at her, hoping for some calm reassurance. But death was on her mind every time she looked at Maya, now.
    A life without fear seemed impossible. The fear of losing someone she loved was something she was waking up to every day. It was hard to shake it out of her mind. It sat there like thick, black tar sticking to every thought and experience. Sometimes, it was too much. She did the only thing she knew how to do, got back to the everyday comfort of tending the vegetable patch, herding goats, picking fruit and doing home school.
    “Don’t dive Emmy,” Ingrid instructed. “Just push off.”
    Emmy ducked under the water. The transparent image of her father’s smiling face beamed back encouragement. She dug her toes into the mud and pushed off. At times her fingers brushed rocky outcrops on the bottom. Hidden behind each rhythmic breath, she thought she could hear a small dog yapping. She didn’t bother looking for it anymore. She assumed it was a part of the swish of the water.  The ghosts of her grandparents, her young uncle and father swirled in the water below. In moments of mischief, they reached up and brushed her fingers as she stroked, sending a tingle through her body. They had lived before her. With their offer of protection, in them she placed her trust.
    *
    That afternoon Emmy spotted Ingrid head up the path towards the Bexleys’. Hiding among the grape vines, she watched her mother struggle with the gate into the neighbours’