Rainy Season by Adele Griffin

myself free and he pinches his fingers in tighter.
    “Excuse me, will you let go of my wrist?” I use a more sarcastic version of Steph’s teacher-voice, but Charlie just smiles his happy delirious smile.
    “Will you let go of my wrist?” he mimics.
    “I’m not kidding, Charlie.” I start flipping my wrist up and down furiously.
    “I’m not kidding, Charlie.” He’s strong, stronger than I am, and he won’t let go, although the fingernails of my free hand are now digging and prying at the human handcuff he has made.
    “Cut it out, guys,” Ted says, but his voice trickles in from a distance. It’s just Charlie and me now. I can see a faint blue in Charlie’s lips and in the dents just beneath his eyes; his entire body is trembling slightly from the cold of the water and the disappeared sun. He won’t let go and I want to punch him. My trapped hand curls into a fist.
    “I hate your voice.” Charlie spits out the words. “And your stupid boring stories and your stupid boring worries and your dumb poster of Bjorn Borg.”
    “Let go of my wrist!”
    “Why do you talk and talk when you know I can’t listen to you? When you know I’m telling you in my head just shut up shut up shut up—talking about your baby sitter and stupid wedding dresses. Just shut up, okay? Just don’t talk about stupid boring stupid stupid—”
    “I can talk whatever, whenever, howev—”
    “Stupid stuff when you know what that does when I hear those—”
    “I completely hate you.” My voice is only a soft shadow to the shapes my lips form. And in that next second, when we both know what he’s going to do, when in his eyes the knowledge of what he is going to do is mirrored by my mind’s vision of what I know he’s going to do, I think, Yes I do hate you.
    He leaps first, so that my resistance won’t be any match against the weight of his body. His fingers unlock once I’m launched into the air. My head’s full of screaming, but no sound comes out, like in those nightmares when you’ve lost your power to speak or to run or call for help. I fall without noise, watching Charlie fall with me in a blur of limbs and crazy eyes. And in that roaring silence before the Canal swallows me, I suddenly feel water everywhere, and I realize that it’s raining. The drops spatter clean against my skin for an instant, and then I meet the water with a smack and a plunge.

10
    C HARLIE’S BOBBING HEAD IS the first thing I see after I thrash myself up from darkness. My ears and nose and mouth are full of water, and I shoot out into the air and an explosion of noise that is the rain and me screaming at last. My scream is a relief, almost happy, but it scares my brother. I narrow my eyes against the rain, now gunning down on us in stinging pebbles, and lunge for him.
    Charlie darts down under the surface and away from me in a fierce wiggle, swimming farther out from the tower. I’m sort of laughing, from relief I guess, as I beat through the water after him. I yank my head and look every which way to find him, but he’s gone. I thrash my legs, hoping I’ll ram into an eye, a leg, anything. In a weird way, though, I also want to shout, “I did it! I jumped!” and I’m sort of proud of myself, although jumping wasn’t my choice.
    Charlie’s slick pale head surfaces again; now he is even farther out. I push myself closer to him, pumping my arms and legs. If I could get even a quick cuff on his ear or the back of his head I’d feel better. He’s closer to me, this time, when he comes up for air.
    A massive crash and then another, both from behind, veer me off-course and Charlie slips below the surface of the water just as Ted and Steph push up from it. They catch up with me in only a few, sure strokes.
    “You okay?” Steph shouts hoarsely. The rain nearly drums out her words.
    “Charlie!” I scream. But the rain and the water everywhere hides him from me.
    “Take it easy, Lane. Your body’s in shock. Link your hands around my