Ghost River by Jon Coon (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

specifics, but I’ll say this. No one should have to see or do the things he had to do. I’m surprised he would ever go back in the water.” Her eyes reflected the sadness of generations.

Carol responded, “All he ever said to Charlie was that it was bad. We could only guess.”

“How is it going with all of you in this old place?” Alethea studied Carol’s face and body language and wondered, are you in love with him?

“It reminds me a little of home—the land, the woods. I’ll never be a city girl. I wish we could just fix it up and stay. It would be great for the kids to have horses.”

“Does that mean you and Gabe?” Alethea tilted her head like an owl, fully attentive.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. But we’ve been close for years. In fact,” she smiled, “I think I’ve had a crush on him forever. Charlie knew; we didn’t have secrets. He used to tease me about it.”

“Mom, you shouldn’t say that!” Emily was shocked. Carol smiled at Alethea.

“Nothing ever happened, honey. I just always liked him a lot. Adults can have friends. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I like him a lot too, but that’s different. I’m just a kid.”

Alethea changed the subject. “Forgive me, this is going to sound clinical, but, Carol, are you giving yourself time to grieve?”

“It’s so hard. Part of me expects Charlie to come home for dinner like nothing has happened. But part of me just wants to go and hide. Right now, go and hide is winning. I don’t want to go home and see his clothes in our closet or his truck in the garage. Gabe is such a good friend, no expectations, no pressure, and he lets me be me. Nights are the worst. I reach for Charlie in the dark and cry when he’s not there.”

Emily reached over and took her mother’s hand.

Alethea reached across the table and took both their hands in hers, like offering a blessing. So lost, so much pain, no wonder she’s reaching out to Gabe. They were quiet for a bit. Carol dried her tears then smiled.

Emily broke the silence, “It’s going to be okay, Mom, you’ll see. And I think it’s good for us to stay here, at least a little longer.”

“Of course it is, Emily,” Carol answered.

I wonder if that’s true, Alethea thought, and turned to Carol. “You know you can’t avoid going home forever. Sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with it. Charlie will always be with you, but you need some distance, some healing, before you can move on.”

“I know. God, I miss him so much.” Carol hugged Emily and kissed her. “I know we both do.”

Emily nodded and wiped tears from her cheek.

Alethea quietly asked, “Carol, has Gabe ever talked about his family?”

Carol refocused and answered, “Not really. Gabe’s not a talker. Not like Charlie. Gabe doesn’t talk about feelings or much of anything unless I pry it out of him. Especially not since Katrina. I know his parents died early, that’s it. I don’t think he’s ever said a word about his dad except that he’s dead too. Is there more?”

Oh, child if you only knew.

CHAPTER 16

2300

Chattahoochee River Bridge

Life jackets required

The I-10 bridge collapsed. They need us,” Jim shouted.

“It was supposed to be closed,” Gabe yelled. The wind was so strong yelling was the only way to be heard. They were twenty miles from the bridge. God help anyone in the water. No one could last long in this. “Send for our dive gear. Have them meet us on the north abutment.”

“If you dive in this you’re an idiot.”

“It’s in the job description,” Gabe yelled back.

The ride up the river was treacherous. Trees, parts of buildings, and vehicles came at them like bowling balls. Fortunately the Mercury outboard had the power to hold them on course and make headway, but the pounding they took was teeth jarring, and the wind-driven rain felt like they were being sandblasted. Without the goggles it would have been impossible. Two upside-down boats passed floating downriver.

Gabe fought the tiller and kept the motor pushing upstream. Holding course put a strain on his arm, back, and shoulder. He tried to stretch, but sitting on the hull and hanging on to keep from being thrown out of the boat made that impossible. It would be a double-Motrin night. Tough it out. It’s in the job description.

For forty minutes the inflatable pounded into headwinds and waves. Finally they saw lights ahead. What was left of the bridge loomed out over the water silhouetted in work lights from the barge. They could hear the drone of a big generator even above the howling wind.

“Maybe they have hot coffee?” Jim shouted.

Gabe eased the inflatable alongside the crane barge. Hard-hatted workers grabbed the lines from Jim and secured the boat. Gabe climbed mesh netting up the barge’s side and was grateful for the chance to finally stretch. In the lights he could see half the bridge was in the water. The southern span was still attached at the abutment. The center span had collapsed, and the northern approach span was half in the water. All that held it was the pier closest to the bank, and that was canted and unstable. It looked like a giant slide dropping from the highway into the river.

“We heard you have men in the water,” Gabe said to a worker whose white hat suggested he was in charge.

“Yeah, two of our guys were up there in a truck when the span collapsed.”

“What were they doing up there? Didn’t they know how dangerous that was?” Gabe asked.

“They do now,” White Hat answered.

“Any idea how airtight the truck might be?” Gabe asked. He wiped the rain from his face and squinted, looking down into the current ripping around the barge.

“New truck. Maybe? We could see headlights for a while, but nothing now.”

“Jim, grab our stuff. Let’s go,” Gabe shouted.

“Our boat is bigger, safer,” White Hat said.

“Great, we’re