Page 125 of River & Rue

“No. No matter how far I go, I’ll always run back to you.”

Darkness sinks through the trees. I fall, scramble to my feet, and keep running. Solar lights blur into streaks.

Lenny joins me, silent and swift, her fur occasionally brushing my leg. For a while, there’s relief. We’re shadows floating across the world, free of time and memory.

I don’t notice she’s herding me until it’s too late.

When I see the cabin and the figure sitting on the steps, my muscles lock in refusal. My sneakers skid across dirt and lose traction. As I topple, Lenny slams into me from the side. Instead of landing on hard dirt, I hit grass, roll a few times, and finally stop on my back.

Stars bleed into comets every time I blink. My body shakes. My throat burns. Past the roar of blood in my ears, I hear sounds. They’re coming from me, but I can’t tell if I’m laughing or crying or screaming.

Lenny whines.

I flop an arm in her direction, finding coarse fur. A wet nose presses to my cheek.

A man-shaped black hole takes over the sky. I want to fall into him and let his gravity take me; I want to scream until the world cracks with me. All because I’m relieved—and devastated—that he’s the one I’ve run back to.

“I’m here, Rue. I’ve got you.”

One moment, I’m weightless. The next, I’m sitting in a warm bath fully clothed. River sits behind me, his arms around me, his legs framing mine.

“You’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

His voice rasps like he’s said the words a hundred times. A thousand.

Time slips.

“His name was Teddy. He was born on the spring equinox, and he had curly blond hair and blue eyes.”

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rue

​. . .​

King Theodore the Brave

Teddy hated his curls. By the time he was five, they were halfway down his back. Hair-commercial worthy, shiny and thick, they attracted attention everywhere he went. My sunshine angel, our mother called him.

The moment he was born, he became the center of her world. Once I was old enough to care, I didn’t. He was the center of my world too. The only difference between us was how we loved him. To me, he was magic. To her, he was an extension of herself.

She lived for Sundays, for the excuse to parade him before the families at church. She soaked up all the compliments like they were hers. I suppose they were, in a way.

Teddy hated Sundays too.

She’d wake him up early and spend an hour or more on his appearance. Perfect curls. Perfect, starched white clothes. Perfect, shiny shoes without a single scuff. He wasn’t allowed to eat breakfast, so I used to sneak him food when I could. Only white food, though—bread, cheese if we had it. He was a messy eater, and we’d learned what happened when he spilled food while wearing white.

When Teddy was six and a half, he tried to cut off his hair with kid scissors—those rounded, dull ones. He managed to saw through an inch of hair below his ear before I found him crouched in the bathtub. Our parents were at a neighbor’s for their weekly cribbage night. I was responsible for him.

Teddy didn’t understand yet what would happen when they came home. He was still innocent. I put him to bed early and waited for my parents at the kitchen table. When they walked in, I showed them the lock of hair and the scissors. I told them I’d held Teddy down and cut his hair because I was jealous.

The strategy worked for almost two years. Teddy would fall in a puddle, I’d say I tripped him. He’d scrape his hands or knees, I’d say I made him climb a tree with me. He was pretty clumsy, which meant at least three times a week our mother would take Teddy for a walk after dinner so our dad could talk to me.

Then, when Teddy was in fourth grade, he left school one day with a split lip.

He insisted that he fell and hit his face on the playground. I knew he was lying. Teddy was small for his age. Petite. He had the face of an angel and a gentle spirit that bullies were eager to crush. But he wasn’t as innocent anymore. He didn’t want me to tell them I’d done it and even went as far as protesting when I confessed. They didn’t believe him.

It was cold that night. Mom only took Teddy as far as the porch. He had a cup of hot cocoa, an ice pack for his eye, and a thick coat so he wouldn’t catch a chill. She put earmuffs on his head so he wouldn’t hear anything.