Théodora Armstrong - Clear Skies, No Wind, 100% Visibility

I can hear Kate before I see her, her laugh ricocheting through the trees. I turn to face the dam to hide my disappointment when I see Elgin with her. “Sorry we’re late,” she calls as they walk toward me hand in hand. They’re both drinking beer.

“I just got here,” I say.

“Want one?” Elgin pulls a can from his knapsack and throws it at me without waiting for my answer.

“Thanks,” I say, cracking it open and flicking the tab into the gully.

“We used to chuck things down there,” Kate says, grinning as she peers over the edge. “Your math book and my crappy runners.”

“I almost failed math,” I say.

“Those runners were ugly. I had to quit track and field because my mom wouldn’t buy me a new pair,” Kate says, wrapping an arm around Elgin’s waist. “We were so stupid.”

Elgin leans over the edge and sticks out his tongue, trying to taste the mist. “This place makes me feel really insignificant.”

“You’re totally stoned,” Kate laughs.

He grins, slamming back the rest of his beer and launching the can in a graceful arc over the falls. Kate climbs up onto the concrete wall and straddles it. “Remember when we used to play that game at the cliffs?”

“Kate,” Elgin says, “get off there. You’re high.”

“Do you remember?” she says to me, ignoring him.

“It’s gone now,” I say. I didn’t notice she was high at first, but now I can hear the effects of the weed in her voice, the heavy-tongued silliness.

“What do you mean gone?” Her voice echoes off the rocks below.

“Yeah. The cliff, it’s like a condo development now,” I say.

“What?” Kate pushes herself onto her knees, a cat on the fence. She looks sad, but I can’t tell if it’s genuine or an act or the weed making her phony. “But that was our place. We went there almost every day in grade seven.”

“I’ll give you a toke if you get down,” Elgin says, lighting a joint and waving it in front of her face.

“I don’t need your skunky pot.” Kate slowly pushes herself up to a standing position, holding her arms out for balance. “I was always better than you at that game,” Kate laughs, loud and forced. “Braver.”

“Get down,” Elgin says, his voice sharp. Suddenly he looks sober. He grabs one of Kate’s pant legs.

“Let go.” She shakes him off and takes careful steps, placing one foot slowly in front of the other, pointing her toes like a ballerina. “You wouldn’t do this, would you?” she says, smiling at me.

“Get down now. I’m serious.” Elgin goes to grab her again and she takes a wide step back.

“Fuck off,” she says, and I can see there are tears in her eyes. “Just look at me,” she says, holding her arms above her head. “Do I look insignificant?”

“No,” Elgin says. “You look really fucking special right now.”

“Kate, you’re going to fall,” I say, holding out my hand to her. “Please.”

“Fine.” Kate does a pirouette then takes my hand and hops off the wall, casually wiping a tear off her cheek.

“Why do you do shit like that?” Elgin says. All the mellowness has left him and he’s pacing now.

“For thrills.” Kate plucks the joint from his fingers. “Don’t you ever get bored of yourself?”

“I get bored of this shit.” Elgin squints through a puff of her smoke. “You want to be fished out of that river and forgotten.”

“What, like Max?” Kate says. She takes a long drag. “Max was messed in the head. He couldn’t handle anything. He couldn’t handle school and he couldn’t handle his parents splitting and he couldn’t handle girls. Right?” Kate says, looking at me for affirmation. “He couldn’t even handle you.”

“I don’t know,” I stammer, caught off guard by Kate’s question. “I don’t know why he did it.”

“Leave her alone,” Elgin says, turning back to the dam.

“What?” Kate looks at me, but I pretend not to notice. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Just ease up, Kate,” Elgin says over his shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted to come here.”

“Sorry,” she says, stretching out the word and clasping her hands in a prayer. “I’m sorry for stating the shitty truth.” She passes the joint back to Elgin.

“I don’t want any more,” he says.

“You know what the truth is?” I say, quietly. “The truth is, until the other day I hadn’t thought about Max in months.”

We all stand staring at the ground.

“I have to pee,” Kate says, striding away into the forest.

“She’s not dealing with this very well,” Elgin says, without turning to me. He’s still looking out over the reservoir. “She’s been crying at night.” I’m not sure if I believe him. There’s silence underneath the roar of the water. After a while he turns to me and says, “Why’d you guys stop hanging out, anyway?”

I examine his profile, his thin lips and high cheekbones, his soft eyebrows and the curls of hair at the base of his neck. His eyes are always dark and intense, even when he’s telling a joke. I think about saying because of you or making an excuse about being busy with school. I wait too long to speak, and then finally I say, “I don’t know.”

Elgin seems to accept the answer as the one he expected. I wonder if he’s asked Kate the same question. “She’s weird sometimes,” he says, almost to himself. “She gets obsessed and then just sort of drops people.”

“Yeah, I guess. It doesn’t make her sad.” I mean the last part as a question, but my voice comes out flat and dull. Elgin puts an arm around my shoulder. “I’m fine,” I say, but he pulls me closer and wraps both arms around me. I nestle in closer to him, his breath in my ear. For a second it feels like he’s going kiss me, but he doesn’t. Kate’s been gone awhile and I wonder if she’s watching us from a distance — part of me hopes she is.

When she comes out of the trees Elgin doesn’t move. I try to edge away, but he holds me tightly so I let myself sink back against him and try to look nonchalant. Kate stands in front of us with her hands on her hips. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look awkward. She looks at Elgin then looks at me, propping herself up against the wall next to us. “You guys talking about me?”

“Yeah,” Elgin says. I can tell by the way he says it he wants to mess with her.

“What’d you talk about?” she says.

“We talked about why you two aren’t friends anymore.” Elgin finally lets me go.

“What do you mean, not friends anymore?” Kate says.

“I never said that.” I look at Elgin. “Tell her I didn’t say that.”

“I’ll have another,” Kate says. Elgin grabs two more beers from his backpack, handing one to Kate and cracking the other.

“So what, we’re not friends anymore?” Kate says, looking at me.

“Elgin, why would you say that?”

He shrugs and laughs, suddenly indifferent to the whole situation. “I’m going back to the car. I’m gonna to put on some music and smoke some more weed. Come if you want.” He walks off in the direction of the parking lot. “Come in peace,” he yells over his shoulder.

Kate’s watching the falls. She looks angry, the mist and the noise engulfing her. Her anger is mute, but I can feel it like a heat coming off her body. She chugs her beer. “Want to go to the car?” I ask. I say it so quietly I don’t think she’s heard me. When she turns, her eyes have gone cool again and she’s smiling. “No, I don’t want to go to the car,” she says. I feel like I’m being lured into something and back away from her instinctively. “You know we came here for you,” she says, her smile broadening. The words should sound kind, but they don’t.