Page 71 of A Summer to Save Us

“You shouldn’t have come.” His rough voice trembles.

The crane and the swan dance on my wrists.

Am I shaking so much, or is it the wind?

For a moment, he stares down. “I’m sorry, Kentucky, but I have to go through this alone.

” Suddenly, he looks so infinitely lost, as lost as I felt at the beginning of the summer.

“You don’t have to go through anything,” I reply firmly, even though the depths beneath me are still so threatening.

“You promised that I could count on you when the time came.” He swallows and pauses for a moment.

“I never meant that you should jump with me, just that you wouldn’t stop me when the time came.

Although, it would be more appealing together.

” He looks at me meaningfully. “Do you remember what I told you about Tolstoy?”

It’s easier to die together . I nod almost imperceptibly.

“I’m so sorry, Tucks,” River murmurs. He pulls the leash out of my safety belt so that I’m suddenly completely unsecured.

A new, terrible fear grips me—a fear that I don’t even want to finish thinking about.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, horrified.

The wind is suddenly so cold. On my legs, on my arms, everywhere.

“Breathe into your stomach. We’re going to do something that will make it easier for you.”

Make what easier?

He leans toward me and kisses me tenderly, with just as much suppressed desire as when he kissed me on the bank when I was still mute.

I can’t move anymore. If he wanted to, he could take me with him now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Blurry images of the fall swirl through my mind.

Paralyzed, I wait for the moment he yanks me to the side and we fall, clinging to each other, but nothing happens.

Except that kiss.

And with the kiss, a longing awakens that rises like fire from within me, a longing for so much more.

For River, for our love. For moonlit nights on the blue-green river, fluttering white swans, black ash on Craters of the Moon, chaos in the supermarket, baking brownies with Arizona, and watching green industrial lights at the oil refinery with James. For a real hug from Dad. For life.

We are not safe. We could die. Here and now.

In this second. Yet we’re kissing. Up here, unsecured on a highline a thousand feet up, and for the first time, I truly understand the meaning of life.

How few things there really are that I have to be afraid of—except dying. Except losing someone I love.

Nothing has any meaning anymore. He was right.

And when I understand it, at that exact moment, he pulls back and ends the kiss. “Now you’re safe,” he whispers. “I fixed it.”

That’s what he meant by making it easier. He secured me, and I didn’t even notice. Like before.

“After Betty, you were my last chance,” he says quietly now, stepping back a little.

The finality in his voice alarms me. “Riv, come back with me to the other side!”

Cautiously, he shakes his head. “You don’t have to save me now. You already did.”

“Riv...” I take a step forward onto the web of ribbons as he takes a step back, and suddenly, I’m on the narrow plateau of Lost Arrow Spire again.

“You don’t understand, Tucks. You don’t even really know me.”

I jump onto the rock, finally having solid ground under my feet. “Yes, I do know you!”

He smiles so tenderly it almost kills me.

“Oh, Tucks... Ever since I started making music, I wanted the world to love me. It’s in me, this gene.

I don’t know why... Then this thing happened with June.

I refused to show my face. No one should be able to recognize me; no one should be able to love me.

I didn’t want all that money, either. I just wanted to make music.

I was always on the run, afraid someone would recognize me.

And this summer... we wanted to play twenty concerts and rehearsed like crazy.

We made music at night.” He barks out a laugh, and a light wind ruffles his hair.

“But then I found out what Betty had done. The girl I wanted to save. In her farewell letter, she wrote that I was the reason she didn’t want to live anymore.

I fell into a hole. There was nothing left.

I just wanted to die.” He looks so sad that my heart aches.

“You can only save people who want to be saved, River,” I say softly. I have to keep encouraging him to talk, because as long as he talks, he won’t jump. Like the villain in the film who doesn’t shoot as long as he explains his plan to the hero. Maybe help will come soon. I don’t know.

“I got drunk, did coke, and took pills. It was so bad, my friends took me to my parents.” He stands a long way behind the slackline’s anchor.

I nod. “I know. You went to the psychiatric hospital and checked yourself in.”

“I jumped once before and knew I would do it again. But then I met you there, Tucks. You seemed so lonely, so desperate.” He closes his eyes briefly, as if he were remembering that moment.

“You were my last chance to keep my promise to June. You were the last thing in my life that I wanted to do right. Do well.” He looks at me.

“I wanted to jump, Tucks, that day. You saved me.”

Tears well up in my eyes. My throat feels constricted. “June would never have wanted you to keep that promise.”

He presses his lips together. “You know, sometimes I believe she’s waiting for me above the moon and among the stars. As if she’s waiting for the day I’ll fulfill that promise and be with her.”

Now, the tears are flowing freely down my cheeks. I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, a desperate attempt to keep him close to me. “You once told me there was nothing in life that couldn’t be repaired.”

“Maybe that was a lie because I wanted to save you,” he whispers.

“Maybe my heart will be irreparable if you jump...” I say, crying. “And then you haven’t really saved me!”

River glances over my shoulder down into the valley. “Let me go, baby.” He says it gently but firmly.

Fear is cold in my bones. “No.” I can’t lose him—not today, not ever.

He strokes the back of my head gently. “You stood at the edge of the bridge and spread your arms. You wanted to fly too, Kentucky.” There’s a smile in his voice.

“Don’t cry a river for me,” he whispers and gently releases my arms from around his waist. I realize it too late and try to take another step in his direction, but the leash stops me.

It’s connected to the slackline, so I can’t go any further.

“River, no!” I whisper when I realize it.

He takes another step back. For a few seconds, we stand facing each other, him all in black, me all in white. Crane and swan.

Panic flutters around me, and my heart burns darkly.

I tug at the figure-eight knot like a blind man, but it won’t come undone.

Instead, it tightens. Then I realize it isn’t a figure eight at all but a complex tangle that I can’t unravel quickly.

He even threaded the rope through the waistband of my jeans—there’s no way to take the belt off.

“Riv,” I choke out.

“I’m sorry.” Misery flickers in his eyes. “I just don’t want you to stop me.”

I want to sink to my knees. “Riv, you have to let her go. You have to let June go,” I say, choking.

He looks at me, transfixed.

Seconds between life and death.

“Maybe she is up there among the stars, and that’s why you feel her. But she... she’s only still there because you’re not letting her go. You have to let her go, River... and you don’t have to jump to do that.”

He’s still looking at me.

“Don’t do it...” I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t reach him. I can’t stop him. I can’t do anything.

Except maybe one thing. I clumsily pry the crane off my wrist, but it takes a while because I’m shaking so hard. “Throw it down, okay?”

He stares at the blackbird as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

“You left it behind because you wanted me to find it. You wanted me to look for you.” I swallow hard. “You wanted me to come save you.”

“Some things are irretrievably lost.”

“You can’t just leave me alone. You can’t teach me everything about life and then jump like it means nothing.”

He laughs in that cheerful, sad way that awakens so many longings inside me. “You don’t know everything about life, Kentucky. Don’t show off!”

Even now, he’s trying to be funny. It’s maddening.

“I love you, River!”

“I hate myself. I hate this life.” A sudden spark of anger flashes in his eyes.

I shake my head. “And tomorrow, you’ll love it again. You know yourself. At seven in the morning, you want to die. At eight, you’re dancing on the table, and at ten, you want to jump. Then you drink a whiskey, go slacklining, and calm down.”

River looks at me in amazement but just says, “Not this time. I’m done with everything.”

I hardly recognize him through all the tears. “And what about me? Are you done with me, too?” I whisper.

He just looks at me. “I love you, Tucks. But I wouldn’t be good for you.”

I tug on the leash, but I don’t get an inch further. I’m still holding the crane out in his direction. “Let it fly. Let it fly, and we’ll go back, please...” My jaw clenches. “Give us a chance...”

He swallows and reaches for the little origami bird. For a few seconds, our fingertips brush against each other without me being able to grab hold of him. “Do you truly believe she’s up there among the stars?”

I nod.

River looks at the paper bird. His blond hair blows around his face, but then a sudden gust of wind rips the origami out of his hand, and the crane is lifted into the sky by the rising valley wind.