The River's Bend by Cara Yablonski

                        collective nouns CC


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The River's Bend

   We traipsed through the thick weeds, the grass itching our ankles as we descended the riverbank. A breeze rolled across our bare arms and legs, but the sun’s warmth kept our skin from goose bumping. It was an ideal afternoon for a river raft. Another chance to exercise our free spirits while we were still young enough to enjoy ourselves. Before the weight of obligations and responsibilities would settle upon us, much like the impending fall weather that was just around the corner. We would make the most of the remainder of summer, however short it may be.
   Evie and Kristen balanced an inflated plastic raft above their heads as we neared the water’s edge. It was a thrifted Costco raft that we’d ‘borrowed’ from Evie’s older brother, with no guarantee that the soft material was puncture free. It teetered as another soft gust of wind blew in across the water, but thus far the raft appeared to be fully intact. Jaimie and I followed closely behind, lugging heavy bags over our shoulders. Beach towels, sunscreen, and numerous soda bottles carefully topped up with cheap vodka.
   We’d chosen a spot in Bowness, a common entry point to the Bow River. Up and downstream from us, other rafters readied their crafts. Local news reporters frequently warned about the dangers of traversing the river in the summer. Reminders to watch the water level (not too high!), not drink any open alcohol (we wouldn’t dare), and to never, ever tether your rafts together with rope. The usual past tragedies were trotted out to remind us. Drownings that had occurred when two tied rafts would snag on a bridge underpass, tossing its occupants unceremoniously into the fast current. But we didn’t need any rope that day. We would be river bound on one craft together. And though we weren’t tied-up, we each held a silent promise that we’d stay tethered together for life. 
   As we found the perfect, rocky location to settle into the water, I noticed a man and his daughter perched nearby. Fishing rods gripped tightly in their hands, they patiently waited for our interruption to end as we’d likely scared away their fish. “What do you think you caught there, Dad?” the young girl asked as he retracted his once-taught line. “I don’t know, Sweetie. Once they get away, we’re only left with our imagination.”
   Jaimie took a quick swig from a vodka-cola and wiped her mouth with her bare forearm. “You girls ready?” She sported a wide grin as she kicked her sandals into the raft. Evie let out a girlish squeal as she bounced across the floating island. With our one and only paddle, I pushed us away from the bank. The cheap plastic paddle dug into the rocks while the girls used their hands to paddle us further from shore. It was a slow start, but within minutes we were descending slowly down the river.
   Once moving, we relaxed into our spots and applied sunscreen to our bikini-clad skin, already darkened and full of a summer’s worth of tan-lines.
   “I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in forever,” I commented as I massaged Sumbum into my freckled shoulders.
   “I know, right?” Jaimie said, “Kristen, you’ve been completely MIA since you met Brennan.”
   “What are you talking about?” Kristen’s eyes grew wide, “we’ve been dating for two years now.”
   “Exactly!” Jaimie and I chimed together.
   “Two years since you’ve been out to the bars with us. You’d think you were thirty-four, not twenty-four.”
   Kristen’s already red face flushed as she took a slow sip from her insulated bottle. I tipped a vodka-cola in her direction and she waved me off, pointing to her own bottle and its unknown contents. She’d brought her own drink, decidedly too good for our Smirnoff and Coke Zero.
   Evie remained conspicuously quiet while we ribbed Kristen. But then again, she was always the nice one. The kind heart and open ear that you’d go to when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Evie was everyone’s favorite, the name that would come out of everyone’s mouth when you were asked who your best friend was. I always wondered who she considered to be hers, though. 
   “Are you going back to school in the fall?” I asked Evie, unsure if she was headed straight into a Master’s program. In the short amount of time that the rest of us had completed an undergraduate degree, Evie had finished a double Arts degree in Criminology and Sociology.
   “No, actually, I’m traveling this fall. I’ll be gone for six months, at least.”
   “What? Why didn’t you tell us? Where are you going?” Jaimie perked up, shooting an accusing glance at Evie, as though we were owed this information.
   But weren’t we?
  “I’m spending a month working at an animal conservation in Spain, then flying to Uganda as part of a volunteer program providing humanitarian aid.”
   Our mouths hung open in shock as the raft crested a wave then dipped suddenly, bouncing us in our seats.
   “I can’t believe this,” I said while re-establishing my balance. “I mean, that’s amazing, but I had no idea.”
   “Yeah, it was just booked, so I didn’t know until last week,” she said humbly, as though she wasn’t on the cusp of the adventure of a lifetime. The thought of our best friend spending half-a-year on the other side of the world was foreboding to the rest of us. And though she was seated directly to my right, I’d somehow never felt further away from her.  I choked down a sip of my drink, the fizz burning the back of my throat as I took it too quickly. 
   “Well, that sure does make my road trip sound lame,” Jaimie commented, tucking her jet-black hair behind an ear. Jaimie had been talking our ears off about driving from Calgary to Montreal in a camper with her co-worker Nina. None of us had the heart to tell her that we all hated Nina. The way she talked over everyone in a conversation, racking her brain to find every and any way to one-up a story. Jaimie whined when we’d begged her not to bring Nina on this outing. “Not this time…” Kristen pleaded with her bright blue eyes. “Just the old gang, no newbies.” We all agreed. Except for Jaimie, who quietly resigned to her failed addition to our unspoken club. 
   With our heads full of questions and worry, we resumed our usual chatter. Retreating to a safe space. Hot dates that never called us back, final grades that confirmed what we already knew about ourselves, and the exciting new prospect of moving away (but not too far) from our parents’ houses. We drifted down the Bow, alongside other rafters while the city backdrop loomed overhead. Glistening glass windows from the nearby towers reflected a shimmering light as the hot, dry sun scorched our skin. Jaimie arched her tattooed back and dipped her head backwards into the icy water. She whipped forward, her hair showering us with river water while we shrieked and held our hands up in defense. We giggled like maniacs, like women-turned-girls and not the other way around. Half-drunk and high in the moment.
   “Hey, watch out!” Kristen cried as the raft dipped towards a large, jutting rock. We’d been too busy, too distracted to notice we’d floated close to a rocky edge. I lifted the heavy paddle and pointed it to the rock, hoping to push us gently back in the right direction but the current fought and sucked us in. Our raft sunk down towards the base of the rock and chilled water poured in.
   “Help!” I screamed as the rushing water started to overtake us. My heart pounded against my chest as I continued to use the paddle to pry us away from certain doom. Evie jumped forward and pushed against the rock with her bare foot, while Jaimie tried in vain to remove water from the vessel using only her cupped hands. Kristen cried out to nearby rafters for help, but in their inebriated states, they watched silently. Rubbernecking as they carried on downstream.
   Where was the river patrol when you needed them? Not here to save you from a sure drowning, but always there to catch you drinking an open beer or not wearing a life jacket. We’d brought our own life jackets in the raft but didn’t put them on, foolishly believing that we didn’t need them. Or that if we did, there’d be time to put them on. But emergencies didn’t wait for your lack of preparation. They happened in a split moment, testing your courage with less than a moment’s notice.
   In a stroke of foolish bravery, I slid out into the river and wedged myself against the rock, pushing the raft with all my strength so that it could unstick from its position. With one huge heave, the plastic tube released and carried on down the river. Evie paddled frantically to direct us away from the bank while Kristen reached for me with the paddle. I grasped its end and pulled myself back towards safety, my friends grasping me under the armpits and lugging me back in. I shivered uncontrollably and settled into the pile of life jackets. The soft plastic of the raft began to crease as we realized we’d sustained a puncture. As we looked at the gradually deflating craft, empty cola bottles strewn in the raft’s pool of water, floating beside our flip-flops and soaked tank tops, we knew the ride was over. 
   We pulled over to a safe, grassy stretch as the raft began to dip lower into the water. Full of exhaustion and relief, we carried our tired bodies to shore, dragging the ruined float behind us. Before we all departed for home, we hugged tightly. Told each other we would see them soon, as soon as we could, in some cases. ‘I love you.’ ‘I’ll miss you!’ And it was all over. One last adventure for the summer.
   Unbeknown to us then, this would be the last adventure we would ever have together.
   Ten years later and Evie remains on another continent. Providing humanitarian aid and support, her unwavering kindness and generosity belonging now to those who need it the most. Her social media posts boast her broad, toothy grin and cropped, curly hair, posing next to people living in vastly different circumstances. 
   Kristen gave birth to a daughter only eight months after our raft trip. We hadn’t known she was pregnant at the time, and she wed her now-husband Brennan in a civil ceremony just before the birth. They moved to Rossland, BC, where I have only been to visit once.
   In a shock to us all, Jaimie and her girlfriend Nina were arrested in Quebec when they were caught trafficking drugs in their camper trailer. Some days I find it hard to believe that it was her face in the paper. Her soft brown eyes looking back at me like a ghost, a shell of the vibrant party girl I used to know.
   Gone are the days of camaraderie, gossip, confessions, tears, and laughter. The cement-like bonds that once held us together had crumbled. What we had left were our memories together. The Remember When’s, and What about that time. Recollections that thinned as the years passed, fraying ligaments that slid between my fingers as I desperately grasped for more.
   What about that time when we almost perished on the Bow river? Remember when we met in the fourth grade and called ourselves the Four Leaf Clovers?
   Wherever we all were, I hoped I wasn’t the only one remembering.
 
   I still like to raft down the Bow River. Although these days, I’m mostly floating by myself.

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Cara Yablonski is a speculative fiction writer from Calgary, Alberta. She has a Bachelor of Business Administration degree with a minor in English, and is an active member of the Alexandra Writers' Centre Society. Her short story "The Late Delivery" recently appeared in 365 Tomorrows. She is currently working on her first fiction novel.