104
PARTISAN REVIEW
would drop, deep under the black water, and would be gone. Ricky
and I would sail on, across the surface of this wide and empty lake. I
knew I must do something to stop this from happening, but, like the
night before, my limbs were heavy and limp. I could no more control
them than I could the wind, which pushed steadily and relentlessly
against the sails. Knowing this, I was no longer terrified. Instead I felt
relieved. As if I'd been expecting this to happen for a long time, and was
glad it was finally here.
As I sat there, frozen, Ricky came to his senses. He pushed the tiller
all the way to one side and the boat, instead of driving forward, turned
in slow and graceful circles. Finally my father caught up to us. Without
a word, he sailed back to the harbor and put the boat away. Silently we
drove home. As we pulled into the driveway, he cleared his throat. "We
don't need to tell Rhoda about this," he said.
Sometime later, Jeanie and I were playing our water game again.
The water ran down the driveway, creating little rivulets that washed
away the dirt and gravel. The rivulets turned into canals; the dirt became
wide deltas, cliffs and bluffs. We floated bits of leaves and bark down the
canals like boats. On the tops of the cliffs we piled up pebbles and twigs,
houses and towns. Across one of the streams I built up a bridge of sticks
and mud. Without asking me, Jeanie moved the hose and washed it
away. But I didn't say anything. Nor did I complain when she stepped
on one of my houses, grinding it into the dirt with the heel of her shoe.
I no longer pitied and feared Jeanie; instead I envied her. She had no fa–
ther. Instead, she had a picture in a golden locket. Whenever she
wanted, she could take it out and look at it, and the man in the picture
would always be as she remembered him: young and handsome, wealthy
and self-assured. Any day now, she could imagine, he would come home;
he would reach out, and he would sweep her up in his arms.
