Haunted Waters, page 23
I thought it had more to do with failing to find the red door than Kai’s absence. We’d lost many of our friends along the way, and everybody had seemed to bounce back—quite unnaturally. This was different. This had affected them in a way I hadn’t yet seen this summer. Their hopes of going home were waning.
I scanned the crowd, looking for Layla. I had been on pins and needles the entire afternoon. Just because I didn’t see her didn’t mean she wasn’t there, watching and waiting. I knew she was around us. She was always around us. I couldn’t understand why she would make herself visible to me when she hadn’t done it for Walker all these years. Perhaps it was her way of intimidating me. I imagined she had a laundry list of reasons why she thought I was unworthy to be by Walker’s side. I glanced up at him and saw his eyes flickering through the crowd. If I was feeling nervous, I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.
My uncertainty had shot missiles through the woods last night. I’d caused a forest fire just by weighing my options. And I was incredibly thankful that Walker didn’t possess the same power. Because I couldn’t fathom the trepidation racking through his mind as he looked for Layla, his long-lost love, in the crowd.
“I still can’t get over last night. I mean, did you think about the movie coming to life? Did you have to physically pull the light show out of the screen? How did it happen?” Walker’s face was alive with possibilities as we swerved around a family with lingering small children.
“Light show? That’s a little generous don’t you think?” I looked up at him. His eyes were sunken, and light purple shadows lurked below his lashes. Neither of us had slept much last night.
Walker chuckled and shot me a sleepy smile. “I know you were scared, but I quite liked it.”
“I wasn’t scared!”
He laughed louder, bringing an unwilling smile to my face. “I wasn’t!” Maybe I was, a little.
“You were so scared, you know it.”
“I think you were scared when the movie ended and you realized the entire forest was going up in flames,” I exaggerated.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that you could turn it off just as easily as you started it?”
I smiled crookedly, shaking my head. I hadn’t known I could do it either. But after last night, after seeing the actress in a heap of tears and her heart broken into a million pieces, I’d just wanted the night to end. I’d wanted the whole thing to shut down. I got lucky is all.
“It was just a flick of your wrist. You clenched your fist, and the entire fire went out.” Walker reached his hand out in front of us, snatching at thin air. I felt my cheeks warm.
“Stop it . . .”
“It was nothing short of amazing,” Walker said. I rolled my eyes, completely embarrassed, but the truth was, my heart was singing. He was proud of me, and I was too.
“What do you think happened to the actress?” I asked, my heart still hurting for her.
“What do you mean? She got sucked back into the movie.”
“You think she was just part of the movie?”
“Well yeah. Why? What did you think?”
“She just seemed so real.” I said in little more than a whisper.
Walker chuckled like I was a total sap. But I couldn’t tell the difference between the actress from the movie who had come to life in the clearing and the girl in my mirror. She was just as real as any of us, and that frightened me.
Walker tugged my arm and steered me to a small cotton candy booth. His face lit up like a little boy, and it quickly pulled my mind away from last night’s movie. “Good call. Cotton candy is always a good call.” My mouth watered at the thought of spun sugar.
I pinched the pink cotton candy and pulled a clump off. The web of candy melted instantly into tiny granules of sugar in my mouth, and I wanted more. Walker pulled off a piece far too big for his mouth, and I laughed at him as he tried to fit it in one bite. We walked aimlessly around the festival eating candy and people watching. I knew we were supposed to be looking for Layla, but it didn’t feel that urgent. Neither one of us was on the hunt for a change. We were simply enjoying each other’s time in a slow and lazy manner. When we became too relaxed, Walker would pull out the photo from his back pocket. It was his way of reminding us to stay focused on the mission. Still, his actions seemed forced, like he was driven by guilt.
The photograph was of a yellow balloon with green stripes and the most beautiful couple there ever was. A tinge of jealousy crept through me every time I saw the picture, but as soon as it was folded away in his back pocket, I did my best to enjoy myself. I didn’t need to actively look for yellow hot air balloons with green stripes; I was pretty sure it would be obvious when we saw it. That meant we just had to cover as much ground as possible, and our job would be complete.
But our steps were slow and our eyes nearsighted. It wasn’t a stretch to say we were having fun. In fact, it was the first time I felt Walker ease into contentment. And I felt like I might be enough for him to be happy. If this had anything to do with last night, I would have fired off missiles a long time ago.
We strolled through the crowd, passing families with little kids, seniors who still held hands—my favorite—and a wide variety of couples. I spotted a young boy, maybe three years old, peeing behind his parents’ backs as they purchased food from a vendor. The little boy’s pants were around his ankles, and he leaned back in a practiced and proud stance.
I grabbed the crook of Walker’s arm and pointed as the crowd parted around the child, looking at his parents with furrowed brows. We laughed, collapsing into each other. When a random little white dog came up beside the boy and peed with him, my knees grew weak, and I grabbed hold of Walker’s shoulder for support.
The hours passed seamlessly. We tried ridiculous treats that you could only buy at a festival, and we laughed . . . a lot. It was far different from the last hunt we’d gone on. The stakes were high at the Fourth of July Baylor Parade, and Walker’s heart had been crushed.
We rested on a bench under a sparse sapling of a tree, picking apart funnel cake and cracking jokes. Nearly the whole day had passed, and dusk was fast upon us. Walker had finally stopped pulling out the photo of Layla, which told me his guilt was waning. I kept a careful eye on his brow, which remained a healed scar the entire day. I didn’t know why I’d been so worried about coming to the festival.
“Look, aren’t they so cute?” I said pointing to an elderly couple sitting at a nearby table. They wore matching purple shirts, and they were incredibly into each other.
“What makes them so cute?” Walker asked, eyeing the couple. I frowned at him, and he laughed at me. “What?”
I swiped powdered sugar from his cheek. “What makes them so darn cute is the fact that they’ve probably been together for sixty years and they are still very much into each other. Probably as much as they ever have been. Most people get sick of one another. They get complacent and grumpy. But they’re the opposite. They even dress alike. They love each other so much. You know, I bet they still hold hands.” I smiled up at Walker. Maybe I was a sap.
He dipped a strip of funnel cake into caramel sauce and handed it to me. I cupped my hand underneath the hot caramel, catching a single drip of sauce.
“I guess that is kind of cute, but don’t tell anybody I said so,” he said with a boyish smile. I laughed, bumping my shoulder into his.
“Do you think that will be us one day?” I asked. It tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think about it. The look on Walker’s face made me wish I hadn’t grown so comfortable after all.
Had I ruined it? Had I just ruined the entire day? Was this the part where he told me we were nothing more than friends, and this wasn’t going to last forever? Was this the part where he chose which side of the war he was on? My throat tightened as I waited for him to say something. Anything.
“Us?” he asked. I stared at him, unblinking.
There was no way to remedy it. I’d said it because I looked at him as the love of my short life. It was very clear that he didn’t see me that way.
“Wilde . . .” he drew out my name.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I scrunched my eyes closed and hid behind my hand.
“I’m never going to grow old,” he said, breaking the silence.
He’s never going to grow old? That’s what he was worried about? Not whether we’d be together, or if we loved each other, just that he wasn’t going to grow old like the couple at the table? Maybe I hadn’t spoiled the day. Maybe the idea of him and me wasn’t so far-fetched.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, still hiding my eyes. Now, I was afraid he might see my confusion.
He pulled my hand from my face and peered into my eyes. “I’m never going to grow old, but you will. I’m going to find a way to get you out of here. I promise.”
It was the saddest thing I’d ever heard. Walker never growing old, me leaving him behind, and the sight of two elderly people in love—something neither one of us would ever have. Especially not together.
“But I don’t want to leave you behind,” I said, dipping my toe in to the conversation I really wanted to have.
“I know you don’t. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
My eyes burned as tears threatened to spill. Walker seemed to grow more nervous as he looked into my worried eyes, and he turned away as if searching the crowd for answers. “Hey, have you ever gone up in a hot air balloon?”
That caught me off guard. “Me? No.”
“Let’s go.”
“I can’t do that. You know I’m afraid of heights, right?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I can’t even jump off the rocks at the lake, and that’s with a rope swing and forgiving water below. What makes you think I’m going to be fine in a hot air balloon?”
“Wilde, trust me, I’ll be there the whole time. It’s about the experience, right? Let’s do this together. We might not have another chance.”
My jaw hardened as I thought about all the ways it could go so terribly wrong. The second I began to think was the second the balloon ride would turn into a tragic event. “You understand that when I become afraid terrible things happen, right?” I asked, slowly, putting emphasis on each word. “Walker, I’m already afraid just looking at the thing!”
A flush crept into his cheeks, and his dimples flashed beneath his unshaven face. I couldn’t quite read the look, but I thought it might be embarrassment. “Yes. I understand. And I will have to try very hard to keep your mind occupied.”
My eyes widened. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded like an invitation that I couldn’t turn down. I jumped to my feet, suddenly eager for the hot air balloon ride. Walker’s lips pursed together, creating a thin straight line. He held my hand as we walked to the nearest unoccupied balloon. It was then, at the worst imaginable time, that I spotted the yellow and green stripes we were looking for. My heart skipped a beat as I considered not telling him. Or maybe I could tell him afterward? But when I looked up to his bright eyes, I knew I couldn’t deceive him, even for an hour.
I squeezed Walker’s hand, and he turned around to look at me. “Um, I think I found it,” I said meekly.
“Found what?”
“The balloon. It’s over there.” I pointed with a shaky finger. It was a sacrifice I wasn’t ready for, but I made the choice, regardless. I would rather Walker’s happiness before my own, and I suppose I would rather his heart be full for an hour longer than for me to get my balloon ride. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was petrified of heights . . .
Walker froze, staring at the yellow hot air balloon. I turned my body slightly in its direction, anticipating the change of course, but Walker’s hand tightened around mine. “It’s okay. We’ll head over afterward?” His eyes were fixed in the distance.
“Are you sure? I know you’ve been waiting . . .”
“I’m sure.” He turned away determinedly, and I jumped to keep up with him. I couldn’t believe he was choosing a hot air balloon ride with me over his chance at finding Layla. Who’s to say she would wait? He didn’t say much else about her or the balloon waiting for us across the field, but he was quietly ruminating to himself. My eyes flickered to the scar running through his eyebrow, and I noticed it had turned pink but wasn’t bleeding.
We stepped into the basket, and I quickly became anxious. The wicker was sharp against my palms as I grabbed at the edge, looking for anything I could use to secure myself. Why was the basket so old and rickety? The other balloons had leather-wrapped baskets that were newer and stronger looking. Our balloon was a sun-bleached navy blue. The skirt blended into a merlot red and then bloomed into a bright orange on the top pole. The basket was smaller than I would have liked, only large enough for three people: the pilot and one lucky couple.
Our pilot was a tall, thin man with scrawny arms and a long handlebar mustache. His eyes were droopy and glassed over. I was pretty sure he was stoned. I wasn’t comfortable in a hot air balloon as it was, but having our pilot be under the influence made me even more nervous.
“My name is Chad, and I will be your aeronaut today. Please keep all hands and feet inside the basket. Do not lean over the edge. Do not crawl over the edge. And if you must use the restroom, please go now. There will be no opportunity to relieve yourself in the sky.”
I peeked at Walker, slightly concerned, but his thoughts were elsewhere. I took a deep breath. “What’s that thing?” I asked, stalling.
“That’s the burner. This is the vent line. That is the envelope. The hot air is released into the envelope, trapping it inside and lifting the balloon into the air. I’ll pull this line when we ascend too quickly. Ready for takeoff?” Chad’s voice was monotone. I looked at Walker with gigantic eyes.
Were we ready for takeoff? Should we maybe rethink this? Maybe chasing after Layla wasn’t such a bad idea after all?
“Great. Ready for takeoff,” Chad said when nobody answered.
I squeezed Walker’s arm as the burner started and I heard a loud rumble as flames ignited. The basket tilted sideways, and I let out a yelp. It skipped and jumped before lifting smoothly into the air, and I felt immediately sick to my stomach. Walker seemed to be in a trance, and I couldn’t snap him out of it. It was a recipe for disaster.
“Walker?” I asked. But he didn’t hear me. His wound had turned from pink to purple, and I could tell that his heart was hurting.
“Walker!” I yelled. He snapped out of it. His eyes tried desperately to focus on mine, but he seemed to be having trouble. “I’m scared.”
The purple bruise immediately receded, and his golden eyes turned warm and compassionate. “I’m here. I’m here.”
I steadied my breathing and found comfort in his eyes. We lifted into the air far quicker than I would have liked. The crowd below shrank the higher we lifted. I watched everybody pointing at our balloon as the orange flame glowed into the nylon, and the colors lit like a stained-glass window from within. Walker turned me around facing outward and wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt secure in his hold, but the height did weird things to my stomach, and I felt slightly dizzy, like I could collapse at any moment.
“See? It’s not that bad, right?” he asked, his mouth pressed behind my ear.
“How high are we going?” I asked.
“We’re on a tether. We’re not going very high at all. These balloons are meant for the crowds. They go up and down all day but stay right here in the fields.” The other balloons were all tethered by thick ropes attached to the bottom of the baskets. I immediately felt better, and the adventurous part of me wondered if I could enjoy it with time.
“Is it okay that I’m holding you like this?” It felt more right than anything had all summer long. And it reminded me of the night I’d slept in his arms.
“Yeah. It’s okay. It actually helps. Don’t let go, okay?”
“I won’t.” His voice was riddled with trepidation. I was glad I couldn’t see his scar, because I didn’t want to know how badly it hurt him to have his arms around me. Especially knowing that Layla was so close.
The basket hitched as the rope caught and the ascent had reached its limit. “This is as high as we’re going today folks. Enjoy the view,” Chad said.
Walker and I inched forward, his arm still wrapped tightly around me. I grabbed hold of the basket and dared to peer down at the ground. We could see everything from up here. Everything . . .
The yellow balloon with green stripes sat anchored on the festival grounds. A splash of red painted the bench by its side, sticking out like a sore thumb. I knew it was Layla, and I knew she was waiting for him.
All this time I had been told to find the girl. Now that I’d found her, I wanted to keep her hidden. I wanted nothing more than to stay in Walker’s arms for the rest of eternity, but seeing the girl in the red cloak waiting for her soulmate to appear pulled at my heartstrings. I really did want to help her, but I didn’t want it to be at my own expense.
If Walker told me today that all he really wanted was her, I’d turn away. I’d dust my hands and walk straight through that red door. The problem was—I didn’t really believe that’s what he wanted. And I was too afraid to ask.
“Time’s running out . . .” Chad said.
What?
Walker rubbed my arms in the cool air.
“Time’s running out,” Chad said again. I stretched my neck to look at the pilot.
“What did you say?” I asked.
He looked perplexed. “Excuse me?”
“Did you say something?” I asked.
“Me?” he said pointing to his chest.
“Never mind,” I said, looking back at the remarkable view. I was hearing things again. I let my eyes fall over the horizon. The dense topography met the sky in an artistic smudge of color.
