Page 28 of River Wild

“Good,” is my response to her words.

“River, your education is important. I know your grades are down after what happened, and that’s expected, but the fighting has to stop. When those kids are giving you a hard time, you have to ignore them.”

“Sure.” I laugh, but I’m not feeling very funny right now. “I’ll ignore them. So, when one of them punches me, I’m supposed to just walk away?”

“The boy today, did he hit you first?”

I kick the toe of my sneaker against the leg of the coffee table. “No.”

She sighs. “Then, you walk away. But, if he hits you first, then you beat that boy’s ass to the ground. You don’t hit first, River. You hit second, and you hit harder. And I will back you the whole way with your principal. But you hit first, I got no defense for you.”

I hide a smile. My gran can be kind of cool at times, but I don’t want her to know I think that.

“And when they bad-mouth Mama? What am I supposed to do then, say nothing?”

The skin around her mouth tightens. “River”—she sighs again—“you can’t stop what people say about your mama. And they’re going to talk about what she did.”

“They don’t know anything!” I’m getting annoyed. I start to kick the table leg with more force.

“No, maybe they don’t. They know what they hear in the news or from the gossip. But, as much as it pains me to say it, your mom is in prison because she killed someone.”

“River, what have you done?”

My fists clench at my sides. My nails dig into my skin. I feel the moment the skin breaks.

“She shouldn’t be in prison. And you won’t even let me go see her.”

“It’s not me, River. You know this. Your mom doesn’t want you to see her in that place.”

“But she shouldn’t be there!”

Another sigh. “I know you don’t want to hear this—and I wish to God she wasn’t there and that it hadn’t happened—but she murdered him, River, and she has to pay for her crime.”

“No, she didn’t!” I yell, jumping up. The words are out of my mouth before I even realize.

Gran slowly stands up. Her eyes are staring at my face. “River?”

My body is shaking. I feel like I’m going to combust. There are all these words and noises in my head.

I dig my nails into my skin harder. I feel blood trickle down my palms. It normally calms me. But it isn’t working this time.

“River …” she says my name firmer this time.

My eyes come to hers.

“What did you mean by that?”

“I-I …” I stammer. I haven’t stammered in so long. “I-I … can’t—”

“Talk to me,” she snaps, her voice so harsh that it brings me to attention.

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “It was me. I-I shot h-him.”

Her face looks frozen. Her eyes are searching over my face like she’s looking for something.

“Oh dear God,” she whispers. Her old hands press to her face. She breathes in and out. Lowers her hands to her sides. “What happened?”

“I-I … c-can’t …”