Chasm.

I am facing the open ocean. The plan was simple but I didn't know it yet. Conquering my fear of swimming in the deep, where the water holds mysteries in the most amazing shade of dark, sparkling teal. Out where the dolphins play and where the shipwrecks begin. We would never come close to the edge of the continental shelf below but that did not stop my sixteen-year-old imagination from conjuring up a leviathan of epic proportions coming up from the depths to swallow me whole.

The water numbs my thighs and licks at my hair. The wind is fierce today. Whitecaps. An undertow which twice already forced me to pinwheel my arms and grab for Lochlan, standing just to my left. It's an unconscious, habitual action not lost on Cole, who stands to my right. They don't have any problem holding ground as the waves pull back from the shore.

I am tempted to pack it in. The water is freezing and black. The wind is too strong. My bathing suit is too spare. I am old enough to push every boundary that I can these days with my wardrobe choices. String bikinis are my usual attire. I have three. White, baby blue and green. I wear nothing else, unless we are in town and then the green hoodie and cut off shorts will make an appearance over them. I might wear shoes if I absolutely must. My hair is down to my thighs now, habitually twisted into a low bun because I have decided it makes me look older than the braids ever did. I am probably wrong.

On three? Cole shouts across the breeze and I nod and dive in before he begins to count. After a moment I feel his hand on my ankle briefly as he follows me. I swim underneath the surface until my lungs crush in. Then I surface, gasping. His head pops up almost at the same time. He looks proud of me. You're doing great, doll. Come on! He flips back under the water and I follow above. I am not looking down, I have decided I will swim until I hit Ireland. At least I think I will. I see Lochlan swimming fifteen feet away, his easy crawl making me jealous suddenly.

Thirty feet from shore and he is closer but still ahead of us. Ten feet ahead and to the left. He has dropped his pace to stay nearby. He knows I am dumb enough to accept Cole's challenges whether I can manage them or not. He knows that Cole is a more renegade version of Caleb. We're a recipe for disaster but we've been together every day for a year now and so far so good.

Cole swims beside me. Breaststroke. He begins to tell me that huge fish are circling below us in the abyss. He thinks it's hilarious. Fear weighs my limbs down and I begin to swim in dog-paddle fashion, like I did when I was little and the boys told me if I wanted to swim out to the raft at the lake I would have to do it myself but then I would freak out once the water was fifteen feet deep and Lochlan would come back and pull my arms around his neck and bring me the rest of the way. There is no helping hand at fifteen. I'm not a baby anymore but the way I'm swimming and panicking is beginning to use up all of my energy and I falter and stop, treading water.

I look down and the large rocks below us are monsters, ascending from trenches below and I freak. Cole's face goes from jubilant to regretful just as Lochlan's hand closes around my arm. He pulls my arms around his neck, swearing at Cole and turns back to shore. I bend my elbows until I am pressed against his back. I feel his muscles repeating as he swims quickly back to shore and once we touch bottom he paces through the water and punches Cole. Cole goes down and then recovers and shoves Lochlan right back. They are evenly matched in size.

Jesus, Loch. She wasn't in any danger.

Panicked people drown.

How could she drown when we're both right there? He is incredulous and maybe Lochlan jumped the gun. My loyalties waver. Flitter flutter. I don't say anything. I stand there shivering in my green bikini and wrap my arms around myself. I'm staring at both of them. Back and forth.

Did you feel afraid, Bridget?

Yes.

Then you're LIVING! Cole shouts the word. He is proud that he scared me. I nod obediently but I don't know what he means and I'm anxious to prove loyalty. Lochlan gives us the worst look and storms the rest of the way back to the beach. He doesn't wait for us, he just picks his belongings up as he passes the blanket and goes straight to his truck, peeling out into traffic without looking back. Cole laughs and then turns serious.

I keep thinking at some point he's going to stop thinking he owns you but it doesn't seem to be happening.

I dismiss his words, since Lochlan dropped me into Cole's life and let go anyway. It was a fluke that he brought me back to shore. If he hadn't been there, Cole would have. I am angry suddenly, defensive. He's fine. Maybe he had a bad day, okay?

It's ten in the morning.

Bad night then.

He stares at me. Or rather, through me and I look out to sea. It's freezing. Let's go in. I turn and leave him there and wade in laborious strides through the shallow breaking waves until I can wrap my towel around myself. The sun has disappeared behind the clouds and the beach is sombre and empty. I wait by our belongings as he takes his time coming in. When he reaches me he has already made up his mind.

I guess next time we just won't invite him. He can't save you if he isn't here, right, dollface?

Three years ago Caleb said the same thing. I'm in over my head.

I'll never go out into the deep water again.

Harm less. Worth less.

When I make it across the drive Satan is awake. Dressed, possibly from yesterday, since he remains in his bespoke pinstripe shirt with the french cuffs and his braces after more endless meetings kept him mired downtown, far away from me. I saw the car pull in. I was not waiting but I was not sleeping either.

He does not smile. There will be no lies today.

He strings his words out slowly. His voice is shaking, the trembling matches mine. Only his is rage and mine is fear.

You never loved my brother.

You're wrong.

You engineered your false distance from each other in order to screw me over and everyone since. Cole, Jake. BEN.

On this point I remain perfectly silent but I shake my head when he gets to the second and third names. He stares at me. I stare at him.

You do realize none of the blame falls on you. You can't make life decisions at such a young age.

You can't make them at twenty either.

What is the threshold of adulthood then, Bridget?

Salary. Independence.

Oh and the fucking carnival doesn't count?

No. It's a hiding place in a life game of hide and seek.

Yes it is, isn't it? And it's a place where you lose your innocence.

You should know.

I took advantage to prove a point. He can't take care of you.

You're a predator. He was doing just fine.

And then look at the convoluted mess ever since, Bridget. Is that my fault? I walked away. I protected my interests from him and clearly he has done the same and hung you out to dry over and over again. A few attempts at adolescent sabotage on both ends and three decades later we're still having a pissing contest over an insolent, ordinary little girl who isn't worth this much effort, frankly. There are women out there who know how to behave to get ahead, who have a little sophistication and style and aren't any trouble at all. Instead I have wasted my life on you and you are nothing.

I go to my knees because his words are correct and it has been a waste and there's nothing here that I have to give anyone. Never was.

Lochlan's voice cleaves the tension in two and both halves slide down to the floor and dissolve. I go clawing through my memories until I find the sunny road and I go running down the middle at full speed, flying on the wind in my cowboy boots and ragged sundress, straight to Lochlan, who is leaning up against his motorcycle, holding a bag with our lunch. He reaches down with one arm and grabs me up.

Not many men get a welcome like that when they leave for an hour to go into town.

I laugh when he describes himself as a man. He is still a boy in my eyes. He kisses my bangs and tells me he will cut them later tonight so that I can see and I scrape them back and smile purposefully. He tells me that has ceased to be effective and he laughs and tells me to run ahead back to the camper to sweep the clock parts off the table so we can eat. He is making me an orrery. I am so excited I could burst. But I am hungry first.

Can't we go to the picnic tables by the lighthouse? I give him my worried face. Only few hours off from the show so we need as much beach as possible.

Okay, peanut. Just let me stop and wash my hands.

I reward him with a hungry grin and take the bag. If I am fast enough there will be a table left. We no longer sit on the same side, he is big enough that it tilts the whole bench and we wind up bumped to the ground. I take my seat across from him and am startled when I begin to fall anyway. He has let go. I stare up at Caleb from the floor and I do what any little girl does when wronged. I ball up my fists and screw my eyes shut and I scream TAKE THAT BACK! at the top of my lungs.

I wake up in tears to the sound of his laughter. I am safe in my bed, with fitful dozing playing out on the left, and light almost-wakefulness to the right. I sit up, startled, and wipe my eyes. One hand from the left goes around my head and one arm from the right goes around my shoulders, extended to protect me but all I can do is wonder if Caleb is right.

Miss a turn.

He's teaching me words, today.

Thesaurus:
1.desideratum - something desired as a necessity; "the desiderata for a vacation are time and money".- anything indispensable; "food and shelter are necessities of life"; "the essentials of the good life"; "allow farmers to buy their requirements under favorable conditions"; "a place where the requisites of water fuel and fodder can be obtained"

I have one, he wrote. A desideratum. To see you. To speak with you. Today, please.

That was all it said. Nothing else. An email, unsigned and sent at five in the morning, three or so hours after he returned to the compound, his car purring quietly into place beside mine near the house. I knew when he came home because I have not slept. Much anyway.

I need to see him too. If we're going to continue on our path of dismantling history one memory of mine at a time then we should be reading from the same page.

Wish me luck.

On not playing fairly.

He wrapped his arms around my head and kissed my lips goodnight. No words. Just locked together in the dark, flush and exhausted.

I fell asleep so easily. It was unreal. Dreams are getting better, nightmares less frequent. Waking up sporadically if at all. He is there each time, he hasn't moved.

Thirty-six messages on my phone when I wake up and Ben is gone. All of them are under Caleb's name so I delete the thread unopened and stretch. Ben comes in with coffee for us and some croissants on a plate. I am famished, ravenous but I can't choke back anything. I stick to the coffee instead.

So many messages.

I know, Bridge.

Did you read them?

No. Did you?

No.

Bridget, I don't think I can stand by and watch this and not do something about it.

Ben-

Lochlan is being just as stubborn. Why won't you let me help you?

You are.

He rolled his eyes and left again.

At noon I found his untouched coffee still on the night table so I took it down to the kitchen and poured it out.

Whiskey clicks.

Yes, I'm up. And I was awake last night up until the point where tea and toast took away the fumble-fingers and uncensored observations. I'll leave the post below up as a good reminder of how not to navigate fear and/or worries. Alcohol solves nothing.

It does help eradicate budding respiratory illnesses though, so the night was not a total loss and I did not wake up this morning with the pneumonia-rattle in my chest that has been making a sunrise appearance for several days now.

So...onward and upward, as Jacob used to say. Keep your mistakes so that you never forget how far you've come.

Caleb will be angry. There's one more thing gone that he thought he could somehow use against Lochlan and really there are only bits and pieces left if you ignore the whole outrage over whether or not I went on the road as an innocent child and left as a worldly freak.

Maybe I never really left at all.

1

Oh yes, youre in trouble now. he said.

Lochlan siad.

But I'm also drunk so I don't really care and I and they forget to tkae away the laptop

I'm afraid of Caleb but I,m more afraid of revisinist history. If more poeple in my life, incoluding me would just tell the truth all the time everyone would bee soo much better off.

The whiskey maes me not care tonight though. It's been a long time. Half a glassjust put me in this place where it's amazing to see how invested everyone has become. How much I am loved.

oh well ben just said to say goodnight rbidget.

So goodnight Bridget

damn

sorry for the spelligns. night xo

Coming clean.

He put his hands over my eyes and spoke with his mouth against my ear.

Don't look, peanut. And when we leave tonight you're going to say you were somewhere else. I'll fix everything if it takes me the rest of my life.

I listened. I always did what Lochlan told me, even two nights after he broke up with me when he showed up at the house and asked me to go for a drive with him. We drove across one province and into the next. We drove for hours. He said he didn't want to break up but we had to keep up the appearance for safety's sake.

I was there when he torched our camper. I closed my eyes for absolution. I closed them in alibi. I closed them under orders and I kept the secret up until now because it's no longer important to keep some secrets. Sometimes old ones are let go in order to make way for new ones.

Of course it looked like an accident. He controls fire for a living. But he did not do it out of a sense of malice, he did it to move us to the next chapter in our lives. He did it to erase my memories and soothe my fears. He did it, at great risk, for me. And when he realized he didn't have his journals because he had taken everything out and put it in the back of his truck and then they were missing he was crushed. He has had the journals back for a while now and the truth is out and I was right.

Time corrupts.

Look way up. Feel small.

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the milky way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there

Tonight, for your viewing pleasure, Venus and Jupiter close together in the sky.

Enjoy. I will be. If the wind doesn't blow me off the cliff first. Hey, just like in the song.

Sticky with purple sugar and wishes.

Sometimes little changes after all.

Back in the early days of this website a three-year-old Ruth would stand on the kitchen table in a tutu and butterfly wings eating a cupcake with sprinkles for breakfast while Cole played her a poem on his guitar and I made flower-shaped pancakes at the stove. I had no less than seven sets of tiny string lights crisscrossing the ceiling in the kitchen and at least two sets in every room beyond, leading to outside where the elm tree branches met over the center of the backyard, completing the cozy mood. Henry would sleep easily on the couch with the cat under a big fuzzy blanket and the snow never seemed to stop falling, freezing, melting.

Summer happened in a blink and that was when I smiled.

Teenagers happened in a blink and that is why I am still smiling.

They finally took winter away permanently, in a blink, and I smile more than ever before.

I still leave all the string lights plugged in all the time. A modern electric system means I can have more of them. The table sugar in this house is still dyed a soft shade of lavender and I still do a late-evening assembly line of packed lunches with tiny surprises for the very next day, rain or shine. I open umbrellas indoors (but never over my head) for the cats to hide under and I will do a card reading for you now if prompted or bribed with something special. Easter egg hunts are year-round. I found one in the shower this morning and peeled it under the water spray and tried and failed to eat it before it melted, the water was so hot. I don't save chocolate. Like magic, it does not keep for so long.

Most people don't seem to realize that.

Another thing they don't realize is that we bring magic closer, in places where you would think magic would only wait nearby until time permits. Instead, life should be the other way around.

That magic should be the norm and the pedestrian every-day should be rare and fleeting.

Echolocations.

The rain poured down in sheets and ribbons all day. The ground was soaked. The trees dripped and umbrellas were almost useless against the endless deluge. But today was the final day of peace and relative quiet before March break begins and other than baking and icing cupcakes, I spent most of the day on the big shag carpet in the library, spread out on my back on the floor, my head resting on the small of Lochlan's back as he lay on his stomach, elbows propped.

Reading.

It was nice.

I almost fell asleep once, book falling in slow motion to the floor beside my head instead of onto my face (for once) but then he sneezed and I said Bless you but I was so gone it came out like bleshoom and he said thanks and turned another page as my eyes closed once more.