Fall River By Sara Spring

Walking away from the cashier and out the door I looked around the dusty gas station. Taking a cigarette from my new pack, I put it to my lips. Behind me the sounds of laughing children began to aggravate my nerves, but only for a moment. Just as I flicked the lighter a young woman climbed out of her beat up old car with a CT plate, her long black hair moved in the breeze as she turned toward the gas pump. Her soft sweet face was so fresh and innocent, I began to salivate. My legs moved towards her and I placed the cigarette behind my left ear.

“You come here from CT. Do you have a message for me?” Ignoring my words she continued to lean against her car staring off into the distance deep in thought. I positioned myself in front of her. “Excuse me, I recently met with- I’m sorry you will think I am crazy for this, but I met with my shaman and he told me to be aware of strangers passing through from the east as they have a message that will direct me in my path of life.”

Her gaze remained unmoved and she said nothing. The children were still laughing.

“You see,” I continued to explain. “I come from a rootless family and I have never had much direction so I take solace in my heritage.” Her eyes suddenly locked with mine and I saw a fierce barrier holding back a sea of emotion filled with deep hurt and regret. I continued on, “I find that I am at a crossroads as I am sure you are as well in your life. I am not sure which direction I should take and I am looking for answers.”

“I wouldn’t have the slightest suggestion for you.” She said coldly and turned her back to me. It was a perfect back and I wanted to slice it open with my axe. “You must be Native American.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your hair and your skin tone. Though we are scattered, we know our people.”

“I am.”

“What tribe? Do you know?”

She shook her head, “I’m adopted, I know very little of my heritage.”

“I can tell you more if you are interested. I can explain to you the paths we choose to live. Being Native American is not only blood but also a history and a philosophy of the earth and harmony. A balance of nature and with all the creatures within it, it’s also about acceptance, compassion and love.”

“I agree.”

“You must be thirsty in this hot sun; I will buy you some water and meet you in the shade of the tree over there. I would like to find out if I can help you or if maybe you can help me.”

For a moment she had still made up her mind to continue on her way, so I made one last attempt, “Please don’t go just yet. I would like to talk to you a bit more.”

She shrugged and got back into her car. I watched as she parked off to the side near the area the kids occupied with their raucous laughter.

After buying the water for her, I was fascinated by how quickly she drank it. I could see the water trickling down her throat and flowing around in her stomach taking up residence in her intestines. She was perfect. As she leaned her head back I couldn’t help myself but imagine how she must look when on her knees begging. Forcing myself to think of something else, my thoughts turned to a patch of land behind the mountains ten miles back. I could take her there and no one would find us. She put the lid back on the bottle and stared at me expectantly.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“I was born in New York but raised here in California.”

“You look Cherokee, but you don’t know what tribe you come from?”

“Nope.”

“Which side of the family was it?”

“My father’s.”

“Having Native American blood is an honor; don’t let anyone tell you any different. We grow up being taught to be ashamed of our heritage.”

“I agree.”

“You are very agreeable.”

She smiled with detachment.

“What brings you back to the west coast?”

“I needed air. I just left my boyfriend. Felt more like a divorce than a break up.” A look of sadness washed over her pretty face and her lips turned down at the corners slightly. I wanted to hit her hard to see if blood would trickle from the corners of her full mouth, and redden the insides of her lips, outlining her small teeth.

“Sometimes, going backwards is a way of going forwards.” I could see that coming back was a decision she’d regretted among other things.

“There should be no reason to go backwards. I left this town when I was eighteen and I vowed to never return. I never should have had to come back here.”

“You will find yourself here. There is some unfinished business here for you, I can tell. You cannot leave here yet, maybe for another couple of years or so.”

“I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later so I can get out of this hell hole.”

“Why did you drive through here? This is a transient area, where are you headed?”

“I was just driving; I had to get out of the house. Staying with my mother and father is driving me insane. I need air.”

“These mountains are energy cleansing. They will help you sort your thoughts and clear your mind of the emotional clutter you are experiencing. You should have more feminine energy around you. I know a place that could help you. There is a waterfall around here that you should go to. You need to be near water and cry.”

“A waterfall!? Here? This is a desert.” She looked at me with large and beautiful incredulous eyes.

“It is up in the mountains, I would need to show you where it is.”

The conversation was long and pointless until she began to inquire about my scars. I had them across my chest and arms. I told her they came from training a bald eagle, but she knew that would have been impossible since they are illegal and so rare. She could see through most of my lies and took her time calling out each one. She was playing with me and while she rambled, I started to imagine all sorts of things I would like to do to her body. I already had her agree to see the waterfall, I could take her anywhere and she wouldn’t know any better. I could tell how smart she was though and she’d figure it out. I couldn’t run as fast as I used to so I’d have to throw a rock as she fled. Then I’d catch up with her and teach her a lesson about bad manners. I’d have to kill her though. Sadness struck me to the core, she seemed very sweet and with her rough start in life she deserved such a violent end. Then again, I could just let her go and leave her to find her way back to her car. I could move her car too and then she would just be stranded in the desert without any water. Nature would care for her. What if nature took pity on her and allowed her to survive? That would be sloppy of me and I wasn’t ready to move again. I drifted back to the young blonde two years before. She was a teenage whore and proud of herself for acting out random sex acts to cause her boyfriend jealousy. She wasn’t going to grow up to be anything useful but when I found out she’d lied about those stories and she was really just a fresh young innocent girl, my anger turned into rage. She screamed too much, that was annoying. I wondered if this one was a screamer, probably not. I would be able to see every expression on her face from fear to pain to exhilaration when the endorphins kicked in if I kept her alive long enough. That was another thing; if I wanted to keep her around I wondered how long she would last. Some of them passed out and didn’t wake up again, it was infuriating. She was so small and skinny she might be too weak. I decided to do it fast. Take her out to the desert, walk behind her, knock her unconscious and leave her there while I got my axe from the truck. There would be lots of blood coming from her flesh. Her eyes would be blank from the terror. I hoped she would struggle but something told me that after all she’d been through she wasn’t the type. That was a shame it was more fun when they fought back.

“So where is this waterfall again?” she asked dryly.

“Let me show you.”

The hot sun had moved by now and the air was beginning to cool. Dusk was approaching and in the dark this plan would be easier for me to execute though far less enjoyable.

“Why don’t I take you with me in my truck?” I offered since I didn’t feel like hiding her car later. I would be tired and this could take up to four hours, by then the gas station manager would have called the police and reported her. He was already suspicious of me as it was.

“No. I don’t feel comfortable as a passenger in other people’s cars. I will follow you.”

She made me angry at first but then I realized that this would be better. I would take her to Martha’s and see if I could get her to stay for dinner. Then all three of us would go to the waterfall. Martha would be easy to take care of but I would have to bring my axe. The two of them could walk ahead and I would knock out the girl then kill Martha. I could take over Martha’s house for a while and come up with a plan to leave.

She followed close behind me and soon enough we reached the farm. The girl didn’t leave her car even though I invited her in the house. We offered her dinner and drinks but she declined. I could sense her turning to ice. She was suspicious; it was as if she already knew what I had planned.

By the time I got her on the road again I gave up the notion of success. If I rushed it would be sloppy and problematic. I went past the area I was going to lead her into and instead led her to a turn out about three miles past. Pulling over in front of me, she got out of her car staying close to her door, leaving her car running. I leaned up against the cab of my truck and wrapped my fingers around the axe I had hidden there. Perhaps I could persuade her to look for the waterfall alone and then I could just circle back to where she is.

“I need to get home for dinner. If I don’t get back in the next half hour my mother is going to worry and report me missing.”

“Why don’t you come back?”

“I could do that.”

“When do you think you will be here?” I asked hungrily.

“Two weeks.”

I lingered by the turn out on foot for the next month waiting for her flesh to come back but she never did.