Page 59 of A Summer to Save Us

“Kansas,” my father scolds, but he sounds milder than usual, perhaps because he has me back unharmed after so many weeks.

“Tell your daughter, George.”

“Tanner is sick.”

I purse my lips. Naturally, that was bound to happen, but I won’t believe a word of these lies. “He suffers from bipolar affective disorder. It’s a serious mental illness characterized by manic and depressive phases. Have you ever heard of it?”

Mechanically, I nod. I feel cold, but it’s not because of the damp clothes that still cling to me like a second skin.

Obviously, I’ve heard of this illness. People with bipolar disorder do crazy things during their manic phases.

They gamble away everything they own at the poker table or run naked through the streets.

Some even hallucinate. Vincent van Gogh cut off his ear and ate paint.

You often hear that true geniuses develop superpowers during their manic phases and can paint or compose for nights on end.

I pause at the last thought. Many unique artists are bipolar.

And River... I dig my nails into my palm.

But he said he wasn’t sick. I look to Dad for help.

“Tanner suffers from a problematic form of this disease.” He leads me to a green armchair and presses me into the cushions as if I were his patient, someone he has to inform that their heart will soon stop beating.

I am numb. “During the mania, these people can be euphoric and in an extremely good mood. They risk too much, are hyperactive, and are hard to stop. Sometimes, they’re easily irritable or suffer from hallucinations or paranoia.

It varies greatly and is individualized.

During depression, the mood tips to sadness, a feeling of emptiness, and listlessness. ” He knows that.

Images of the summer pass through my mind like a fluttering ribbon.

River sleeping for days, only dragging himself out of bed to use the bathroom.

River racing through the dark forest in his Porsche as if there was no tomorrow.

In my mind, I recall the wind, the free fall as we hurtled over the cliff, and the seconds in which we fell.

I think of the moments when he stood unsecured on the highline, a cigarette in one hand and Jack Daniel’s in the other, as if he was invincible—immortal.

Don’t be afraid, Tucks. Not of that . Never of that .

Numb, I sit there and taste our first kiss on my lips when someone clears their throat, bringing me back to reality.

“For many affected, the phases last for weeks. Sometimes even months or even a year. With Tanner, it is often days or hours, or both phases occurring together. It’s called ultra-rapid cycling.

” Clark Davenport says this, and he’s deliberately speaking to my dad, but I know the information is primarily intended for my ears.

I wonder if he always ignored River this way?

“Ask your daughter where my son is.” He’s standing less than six feet from me.

Ask her yourself, my dad should answer, but he says, “Where is Tanner, Kansas?”

Still confused, I take the pencil stub and write on the paper that I’m clutching like an anchor.

Clark Davenport wants to declare him insane and have him committed. But River is not insane. He knows what he’s doing. Since I wrote on my thigh and my fingers are shaking, the writing is barely legible. I hold the paper out to my dad, who hands it to Clark Davenport.

He reads the words, and there’s a moment of silence. I stare tensely at the green carpet, at the dark burn hole next to Clark Davenport’s highly polished crocodile leather shoes. I feel his cold gaze piercing my heart.

“Tanner is a threat to himself and society. He needs to be taken to a clinic immediately and given medication,” I hear him reply coldly.

I carefully raise my head to look at him.

His facial expressions don’t reflect any emotion.

Only his watery eyes glitter coolly and distantly.

He looks at Dad again. “If something happens to someone, your daughter is complicit.”

“You have to tell us what you know,” Dad urges, and James adds something. Suddenly, they both start talking.

“I’m sure he’s waiting for her at an agreed meeting point.”

“Did he suspect we would be here?”

“Which hotel is he hiding in?”

“Why did she come back here without him?” That comes from Arizona, who, like Clark Davenport, is still ignoring me, but I’m too confused for it to matter at the moment.

I realize something else. Apparently, they haven’t heard the news yet and don’t know what happened at the opening; otherwise, they would know that River was there.

I don’t know where he is now. Honestly , I type into my phone after everyone looks at me impatiently. It’s not even a lie.

I’ll find you!

Dad reads what I wrote. “She says she doesn’t know where he is,” he hesitantly passes on to the others. His voice doesn’t reveal whether he believes me or not.

Clark Davenport merely shakes his head reluctantly. “She’s lying, George. She always lies as soon as she—” Opens her mouth , I’m sure that’s what he wanted to say but stopped himself in time.

It must have been terrible for River to grow up under the same roof as this cold, emotionless man.

Stiffly, I stand and press my nails into my palm. I just want to get out of here and find River. I need to talk to him. Alone. However, how am I supposed to explain this to Dad? He won’t let me go.

Maybe I could climb out of our hotel room via the fire escape.

I need to change , I type into my phone and want to hold it out to Dad, but at that moment, Chester blocks my way.

“Are you seriously saying you have no idea where Tanner is? After traveling with him for the summer...?” He’s blocking me so that I can’t get by him, trapping me between him and the chair.

“Kansas. Kans!” He sounds so gentle and kind, I could puke.

“Tanner told you he was River McFarley; it’s what he does during these phases.

Maybe it’s a delusion. You’re not the first girl he’s told that to! ”

My heart skips a beat. I look past Chester to Dad.

He sighs. “I’m afraid it’s true.”

I just shake my head as if I could fend off his words.

“I know you wanted to get back at me with Tanner,” Chester says now, an unspoken threat flickering in his eyes.

“First, it was my friends you were with... and then... even my brother, Kansas.” He truly tries to sound concerned.

For a few seconds, it’s so quiet again, I don’t dare breathe.

Say something, Dad! Defend me! I think, but he remains silent.

“We talked to his bandmates. You may not know this, but when he was nineteen, in one of his rapidly changing phases, he jumped off a bridge into the river. He believed he could fly. Ever since, they’ve called him River.”

So his name is River—even if the reason behind it is even more serious than I thought. F-L-Y-I-N-G. Was he reluctant to say it because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge?

“Whenever he goes through phases, he feels guilty about that one girl.” Chester is now completely blocking me so that I can’t even see Dad, James, or Clark Davenport. “Every time, he tries to save a girl because he abandoned his girlfriend. It’s a delusion, a fixation.”

I want him to stop saying these things, but by the looks of his triumphant expression, he’s only just getting started.

You’re lying , I mouth, knowing only he can see.

For a moment, his gaze rests on me, and he shakes his head. “Zozoo told me. There have been three in total.”

Zozoo. He knows that name, so he’s probably telling the truth after all. I push by him, and he allows it because the others are there. June , I type into my phone. His girlfriend’s name was June, and I love River.

From three feet away, I hold this message out to Chester. His watery eyes become dark springs in which something evil bubbles. He stares at me as if he wants to grab me by the neck and push me against the wall.

“He snuck out of boarding school for a year to sleep in the cemetery on her grave. That’s sick!”

That’s love , I think. And whatever River does, he does it passionately and intensely.

“What a fool! And the nation admires someone like that!” He laughs hard, and suddenly, I see something like wounded pride in his eyes.

Wounded pride, anger, but also envy. Oh yes, he envies Tanner.

He steps toward me, and I back away. “After he was kicked out, he disappeared, and we never heard from him again.”

Well, it’s not like your father cared for him , I think as I walk backward, step by step, until I reach my dad.

He takes my arm, a gesture that strangely calms me because he’s there, giving me support.

“Did he do that?” Chester suddenly asks, pointing to my jaw where the bruise is fading.

Swiftly, I shake my head.

“Some patients tend to have violent outbursts during manic phases.”

Stop it! I want to cover my ears or punch him in the face.

“He always beat me up too.”

“That’s enough, Chester.” Clark Davenport glares at me. “She’s heard enough. She needs to tell us where to find Tanner.”

Maybe River isn’t even bipolar but merely consumed by guilt. Maybe it’s because of his upbringing—the withdrawal of love, with which his father punished him. And I don’t believe he hit Chester. He only said that about the girls because he enjoys hurting me.

River said he loves me. Damn it!

I recall him standing in the light of the streetlamp as if in a moon bubble. I love you, Tucks . He was so angry. He sounded so honest. Hot tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them away.

I must warn River so he doesn’t come here and run straight into his father’s arms. I have to talk to him alone.

Nervously, I glance around. An employee is standing behind the reception desk, busily typing something into his computer. To the right is the heavy glass entrance door, but I can’t just run away; they’re all faster than me.