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Drew Hayden Taylor
felt numb, then warm after a while. All the time I could hear Mom
and Dad behind me. They were trying to open their doors, but
because of the water pressure, the doors wouldn’t open.”
“You don't have to tell us this.” William said what I was
thinking. I don’t think Ryan heard, either because of the wind, or
the memory.
“I remember sitting on the ice, crying. The water was up to
the windows, and there were bubbles everywhere. It looked like it
was boiling. Mom rolled down her window and tried to crawl
through but she was kinda big. She wouldn’t fit, I’ve never seen
her try so hard at anything. She actually looked wedged in the win-
dow, then she reached for me, like she wanted me to pull her out,
or maybe pull me in with her. I don’t know. But the look on her
face... It was then the car went under the water, with a large plop-
ping sound. It wasn’t there anymore. There were more bubbles
then her purse floated to the surface.”
Ryan stopped both talking and walking. Evidently we had
reached the spot, or as close to it as we were going to find, both in
his memory and our reality. He was looking down at the ice about
six feet ahead of him.
“I just sat there for the longest time. I was nine years old, I
didn’t really know what was going on. I was scared, cold, in shock.
After that it gets kind of blurry. I guess I found my way home.”
Way over on the other side of the lake, I could see a car dri-
ving across the ice, heading to the reserve. 1 wished I was in it.
“Is this why you’ve never been out on the lake since?”
“I guess. I just remember my Mom reaching for me.
Theyre still out here, you know. Somewhere below us. They never
found the bodies.”
William stamped his feet from both impatience and cold.
“Can we get on with this please?”
“You’re right. Let’s get this over with.” Ryan walked ahead
a bit, then kneeled down and placed the flowers quietly on the ice.
Then he started to stroke the flowers, like he was afraid to leave
them. “Since the accident, I’ve always been afraid of this place.
But Jesus, I'm twenty-two years old! You’ve got to stop being
afraid at some point. In all this time I’ve never been able to say
goodbye to them. After all, it’s only water, right?” “Goodbye Dad.
127
felt numb, then warm after a while. All the time I could hear Mom
and Dad behind me. They were trying to open their doors, but
because of the water pressure, the doors wouldn’t open.”
“You don't have to tell us this.” William said what I was
thinking. I don’t think Ryan heard, either because of the wind, or
the memory.
“I remember sitting on the ice, crying. The water was up to
the windows, and there were bubbles everywhere. It looked like it
was boiling. Mom rolled down her window and tried to crawl
through but she was kinda big. She wouldn’t fit, I’ve never seen
her try so hard at anything. She actually looked wedged in the win-
dow, then she reached for me, like she wanted me to pull her out,
or maybe pull me in with her. I don’t know. But the look on her
face... It was then the car went under the water, with a large plop-
ping sound. It wasn’t there anymore. There were more bubbles
then her purse floated to the surface.”
Ryan stopped both talking and walking. Evidently we had
reached the spot, or as close to it as we were going to find, both in
his memory and our reality. He was looking down at the ice about
six feet ahead of him.
“I just sat there for the longest time. I was nine years old, I
didn’t really know what was going on. I was scared, cold, in shock.
After that it gets kind of blurry. I guess I found my way home.”
Way over on the other side of the lake, I could see a car dri-
ving across the ice, heading to the reserve. 1 wished I was in it.
“Is this why you’ve never been out on the lake since?”
“I guess. I just remember my Mom reaching for me.
Theyre still out here, you know. Somewhere below us. They never
found the bodies.”
William stamped his feet from both impatience and cold.
“Can we get on with this please?”
“You’re right. Let’s get this over with.” Ryan walked ahead
a bit, then kneeled down and placed the flowers quietly on the ice.
Then he started to stroke the flowers, like he was afraid to leave
them. “Since the accident, I’ve always been afraid of this place.
But Jesus, I'm twenty-two years old! You’ve got to stop being
afraid at some point. In all this time I’ve never been able to say
goodbye to them. After all, it’s only water, right?” “Goodbye Dad.
127
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