Spencer sucked in a breath. Oh. That.
“Not good,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. The good news is that they were clearing out as they called us. I’m pretty sure most of the people made it out to the interstate and safety. It seems to me once they turned north or south, the water would spill out past the road and wash down into the canyon beyond the….”
He blinked.
“Oh my giddy aunt,” Theo said, and Spencer knew it had hit him.
“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Once the initial surge of water pushes through, it’s got to peter out. There’s no guarantee the water pressure is going to be strong enough at the end of this valley to… to….”
“To send us hurtling into the canyon?” Theo asked, voice squeaking.
Spencer took a breath. “This valley is, what? About forty miles long? It’s a lot of area, right, not a lot of people?”
“Yeah,” Theo said, concentrating on getting them around a tree with his pole.
“So, let’s find ourselves a relatively open area and then maybe get the boat stuck in some trees again. We get the boat stuck in the trees while the water whooshes out underneath us, we might not get washed out into the canyon. How’s that?”
“That sounds like sunshine and bulldookie, Mr. Helmsley,” Theo said, his voice calm. “But sure. We can hope for that.”
“Well, don’t forget my people are coming for us!” Spencer told him. “You think Elsie and I fly together for, what? Thirteen years? Just for her to go off into the wild blue yonder to leave me to drown? That would deprive that woman of the satisfaction of reaming me a brand-new sparkly shiny asshole for being stupid enough to fall out of the goddamned helicopter, wouldn’t it?”
Theo let out a strained guffaw. “Yeah, that would be worth coming back for,” he admitted.
Spencer’s voice grew gentle. “Come on, Woodchuck. Don’t panic now. We’re still twenty miles out from town, right? Let’s hope all your friends are safe, and let’s hope Elsie and Glen and Damien are coming back for us. I mean, you made a raft out of some poor woman’s porch—God’s not going to let you survive that and not give you a chance to tell that story. That would be plain wrong!”
“Well, I’m not talking to God right now,” Theo said stubbornly, “so maybe this is punishment for my sins.”
Spencer turned from poling the damned raft for a moment to stare at him.
“You’re not… are you shitting me? You all but have ‘choirboy’ tattooed on your forehead, Woodchuck!”
“Stunned but not speechless, I see,” Theo grumbled. “Yeah, so I don’t get to be pi… peeved with the force that took my folks away from me within two years of each other?”
Aw. Poor baby. Spencer’s chest got a little achy. He hadn’t spoken to his own parents for fifteen years—for all they knew, he was dead, and they’d probably think he had it coming. But this man had been cared for. He’d sat by his mother’s bedside and mourned her passing, and that of her poor kitty as well. Of course he was mad at God.
“Yeah, that could cool a relationship a little,” Spencer admitted. “But you had them. They seem to have liked you. You grew up in a nice place. That’s gotta count for something. Maybe you should forgive the big guy.”
“You’re telling me to talk to God?” Theo asked, sounding at a loss.
“I’m saying it couldn’t hurt. I mean, how much worse could you make things?”
Spencer could see the back of his neck getting red. “Make things? Are you… are you saying this mess is because I didn’t talk to God?”
“Well, I mean, I talk to him all the time. I even curse him out. He’s never dumped a lake on my head.”
Theo looked over his shoulder at Spencer and gaped. “Wha… holy… oh my holy….” Theo’s face was purple, and it looked like he might be sputtering for a bit, so Spencer tried to help him along.
“I mean, what’s God going to do if you tell him you’re pissed? You might as well tell him, Woodchuck. Go ahead and swear at him a little bit—hell, being all righteous and silent about it brought down a flood! How much worse could it get?”
“Oh my gucking Fod!” Theo shouted.
The words rang between them, echoing off the valley and the water around them, and Spencer lost his shit and started to laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe.
Like Fungus
THEO heard his own mangled curse lingering in the air and then, against all odds, Spencer’s hearty, riotous laughter in its wake. For a moment, he wanted to storm. He wanted to rage.
God, he’d been so mad, hadn’t he?
First Big John, then his mother—and hell’s bells! Even his mother’s sweet cat! And for two years, Theo had been walking around carrying that grudge. For two years, he’d been reminding himself that he wasn’t talking to God. He’d avoid the swear words. Oh yes, he would. But actually give a little prayer?
Not even when he and three kids and a feisty old woman had been about to drown on a floating porch.
Not even when a complete stranger had fallen out of a helicopter to save him.
Theo had kept his back straight and steadfastly refused to talk to the forces in the universe because he was pissed.
And it had taken a snarky stranger—who had infuriated Theo more than any human being on the face of the planet, bar none—to show him that he’d been spitting into the wind.
For a moment he wanted to keep raging. He wanted to shout to Spencer Helmsley how dare he? He didn’t know Theo! How dare he make a mockery of this righteous grudge Theo had been carrying around, nursing the hurt of the oldest loss in the world.
But as Spencer kept laughing, his voice hoarse and rusty, Theo remembered the flush on his face, the blood leaking through his flight suit, the stark pain on his face. And the gentleness in his voice, and the way his eyes had gotten all shiny when Theo had spoken of Annie the cat, whom Theo had hoped would keep him company while he wrestled with his grief.
Spencer Helmsley was in a great deal of pain, and he was laughing in the face of it. And, whether he admitted it or not, he’d also been kind and more than human.
Theo let out a little chuckle himself, and another, and in a moment, they were both laughing. Theo wasn’t sure how Spencer felt about it, but his own laughter—a little weaker, a little sadder—was still the most cleansing sound he’d ever made.
The laughter died down some, and Theo found he and Spencer were working as a team. Theo would give his pole a shove in the direction he hoped was toward the road, and Spencer would fight what felt to be a sucking current taking them toward the river. They worked in concert for a couple of minutes, and Theo had a rather frightening thought.
“We’re not going toward the road,” he said. “We’re… everything we’re doing is keeping us away from the river.”
Spencer took a deep breath. “Yeah. I was wondering when that was going to hit you. We can either start poling a little harder or ride the edge here. It’s up to you, Woodchuck. You know the land.”
“How are you holding up?” Theo asked, looking at him carefully.