The Palmer Pool

33 | Hunger

TW: unwanted physical contact and intimidation by a man directed toward a woman

When I heard her sputtering and gasping for breath beside me, I was so relieved I yelped with joy into the darkening sky. My hand ached from clutching desperately to Rose's arm while we spun in the churning river, but it worked. Probably. We were in the middle of the river and the sun was down, so it was hard to tell. But Paul was gone and electric lights sparkled all along the Canadian and American shorelines. I began to tug at the heavy brown skirt I was wearing. Keeping my head above the water with all that clothing on was already getting difficult.

"Can you swim all the way in?" I asked.

"I don't see any other option," she answered wearily.

She was right; there were no boats to flag down or buoys nearby to climb onto. We were alone in the middle of the river in the dark, which was one of my nightmares come true. We kicked off our long skirts, letting them sink to the bottom of the river, and began the long swim to shore.

The current had swept us downstream from Palmer when we finally climbed someone's ladder and collapsed onto the grass. Rose started crying again. I was so exhausted I felt reduced to either a feather to be blown away in the slightest breeze or the dirt upon which I rested, to sink in and only be moved by a relentless pull of water; a rogue wave or torrential downpour.

"Walter didn't stand you up the other day. His car broke down," I eventually said into the dark. "Just so you know."

"Okay." Rose wiped her eyes. "Who was that man in the boat?"

"I don't really know." I stood and peeled the clinging white dress from my legs. I took off the long-sleeved blouse and tossed it in the river. "Hey, I'm sorry I pushed you into the river like that. I didn't trust him at all."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Vanessa. We've met. Hey, do you think you can unlace this corset for me?"

We walked along River Road back toward town, both of us too stunned and tired to talk.  Soon we came to an establishment I'd seen all lit up from the water, a two-story building with a big deck and a balcony. It was a relief to see the cars lined up on both sides of the parking lot.  They were definitely from the fifties.  I'd at least returned Rose to the right decade. 

I asked Rose to wait outside while I made a phone call, which she was okay with once I explained that everybody in town thought she was probably dead and nobody should see her until her family knew she was okay.

The front door opened into a hallway stretching straight ahead and a staircase leading to the second floor. On the left, there was an empty restaurant that was closed for the night and there was an entrance to a bar on the right. The bar was full of smoke and men in baggy pinstripe baseball uniforms. I asked the bartender if there was a phone I could use and he swiped a phone from behind him, set it on the bar and walked away.

I called the operator and asked to be connected to Mrs. Barry's residence.

"I've got her," I whispered once Liz was on the line.

"Where are you?"

"Um, I'm at this bar slash restaurant slash hotel maybe? South of town."

"Nelson House," said a man's voice from beside me. I looked up expecting to see the bartender, and instead found Frank Harrison leaning against the bar top with his squinting eyes locked on my face.

"Nelson House," I repeated into the phone. "Okay, thanks Mr. Harrison," I said to Frank, hoping he'd back off.

"Are you with Paul?" Liz asked.