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| River Stains |
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| Feature Articles - Reader Contributions | |
| Written by Megan Posner | |
| Monday, 08 January 2007 | |
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~ a short story ...Samson Hadley’s calloused palms graze the inside of Olivia Cahlwell’s hand before intertwining their fingers. Sam uses the light bulbs decorated with Chinese paper lanterns from the party at the top of the hill as a guide. With giant steps he gingerly leads Olivia, who, still unsure about following him to the riverbed, is moving at a slower pace.
 “Trust me, I won’t let you fall.”Samson Hadley’s calloused palms graze the inside of Olivia Cahlwell’s hand before intertwining their fingers. Sam uses the light bulbs decorated with Chinese paper lanterns from the party at the top of the hill as a guide. With giant steps he gingerly leads Olivia, who, still unsure about following him to the riverbed, is moving at a slower pace. With her knee high socks and delicate skirt Olivia shivers at the thought of even letting the tips of her toes touch the icy water of the river. Sam feels her resistance and faces her partly, without words he gently glides his fingers over her knuckles and they begin descending the rock scattered hill once more. Samson Hadley had dark brown hair rustled by the cap he often wore low over his eyes. His clothes had rips and paint stains and Olivia always imagined his lips tasted like cigarettes. With every dangerous feature she uncovered the closer she leaned in when he spoke, the more she allowed herself to be led away from the normality of her life. Her mother held tea every Sunday with the neighbors who gossiped about boys like Sam. Her father kept to his whiskey bottle and cigar buds, talking politics to the television set that switched between CNN and the weather channel. Olivia spent her afternoons with her chin resting on her knees staring out the big picture window in the living room, wishing her hair was tangled with dandelions, her dress stained green from the perfectly kept grass. He lets go of her hand as they reach the bottom of the hill. For a moment neither of them speak as the party becomes a dull sound to the whispering from the river. “Beautiful.” Olivia nods, thinking of the moon that bends and folds within the lapping of the water but when she turns he is looking at her and not the river. “my mother’s going to kill me when I arrive home with sopping wet clothes. This dress was very expensive” “All the more reason to take it off first,” he says. She feels a blanket of sweat form at the back of her neck despite the biting chill of the night. The clouds that hover near the moon help to hide her blushing cheeks. He barely touches her hand, just resting his fingertips against hers. “I barely even know you,” I say. “It’s just a swim. I promise,” he says. “But-“ “I’ll close my eyes,” he says, and With both hands he shields his eyes and moves closer to her, just barely peeking through the cracks in his fingers. “See, I can’t make out a thing,” he says. Bravely, Olivia reaches out for his hands and removes them from his eyes holding them tightly. “Your hands are freezing,” she says.“You don’t have to close your eyes.” “I will if you want me to," he promises. “No. I want to you see your eyes,” she says, tucking a loose lock of honey blonde hair behind her ear, Sam nods with a smile that lifts just the corner of his mouth. Slowly, their eyes not wavering from each others, Sam and Olivia begin sliding off knit socks and jeans, flower print dresses and olive green t-shirts. As they begin to near the water Olivia can hear laughter break out from the party and for a moment she wishes to throw her clothes back on and sink into a velvet chair with some boy who speaks only of colleges and family parties. Then he grabs her hand and she forgets that desire. The water bites at the bottoms of her feet and she can barely retain a gasp as she steps deeper into the river. Her bare toes push over pebbles and she digs her nails into the back of his hand, knowing that by tomorrow her nose will be running with a cold. Soon they have to kick their feet to stay afloat and Olivia lets her shoulders rise and fall beneath the water. “I didn’t think you would follow,” he says. “Because I’m too sweet. Too cute. Too stuck up,” she says. “You’re not stuck up. You’re just scared.” “Of what?” “I don’t know…” he says, wrapping an arm around her waist clutching her to his chest. “-of me,” he whispers. “I’m not scared of you-” she says. Pushing away playfully Olivia sinks into the water, her hair rising above her ears. The murky river sticks to her cheeks as she breaks back to the surface. “I’m not scared of anything,” she says. “Prove it,” he says. Moving through the small distance between them, Olivia grabs him just as fiercly as he grabbed her waist moments before and kisses him softly. The sound of tumbling footsteps breaks their embrace, Olivia suddenly shivering again under the blanket of water. She recognizes the loud voices. She recognizes the four faces that stare at them angrily across the water. Instead of letting Sam go, she clings tighter to him as two of the boys, her brothers, coax the other two, their friends, to swim out and retrieve Olivia. “Get your hands off my sister you ruddy hound!” “We ought to call the police on you, get you kicked out of this city once and for all,” they bellow from the shore. A rock from the river bank lands with a heavy plunk only a few feet in front of Olivia and Sam. “Olivia get over here right this instat,” her oldest brother shouts, his voice the loudest to carry over the rippling water, as he scoops up her dress and stockings. “Sam you should just swim away, they’ll hurt you, just swim away,” Olivia says. They both flinch as another rock lands just behind Sam’s bare back. “Olivia, I’m not afraid of them,” Sam says. Her other brother is loosening his shoe strings and before Olivia can say another thing to Sam he is splashing violently through the water in their direction. His hand grabs painfully around her wrist and he then holds an arm around her waist as Olivia tries to kick from his grasp. “Let go of me!” she screams. Sam grabs both of her hands and it grows harder to keep balance as he kicks his feet and pulls her towards him. When he lets go of her hands she is sent backwards under the water and when she resurfaces still in the hands of her brother she screams. One of the boys on the surface threw one last rock, heavy as it passed through the air, debris shattering with it. Olivia screams even louder, as she sees the water stain with Sam’s blood. “Sam! Sam!” she shrieks. Realizing what they have done, seeing the motionless form of the boy they only sought to threaten not hurt upon the water, three of the boys scurry back up the hill. Her oldest brother drifts slowly out of the river. He is whispering “I didn’t mean to- Olivia- I didn’t mean to-," but she can’t hear him as she continuously screams “Sam!”. Her body is shaking violently as she moves him back onto the sand and she can barely breathe through her cries. “Sam…I’m so sorry. Sam…” Pressing his cold hand against her cheek she cries helplessly, her hair dripping upon his chest. She looks up suddenly when his thumb glides across her cheekbone and then slides down to the nap of her neck. “Sam. Sam!” she cries in disbelief, as his hand slides off her neck and upon her knee. She looks over to see his eyes search the water banks before landing on her. “Olivia?” he asked softly. Lifting his hand to the gash on his forehead he watches as blood trickled down his wrist and arm. “It’s nothing, we just need to stop the bleeding,” Olivia says calmly. Without hesitation Olivia grabs immediately for her dress and bundles it up to press against his wound. “I was so scared. I was so scared of loosing you already,” she says sobbing. “But you barely know me,” he says, his smile is weak as he rest his palm against her damp cheek. “But I do. But I do. You’re the dandelions tangled in my hair. You’re the grass stains on my dress. You’re the bruises on my knees, the bandaids I never needed,” she says, staring deep into his eyes. “I don’t get what your’re saying,” he says. Resting a hand on his chest Olivia kisses him and leaning away for only a second to run a finger across his lips she smiles to herself. The taste of cigarettes and the river upon her lips.           |
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