The Creek

Leah opened her front door at the sound of a knock, and Mary walked straight in without a moment’s hesitation. She was dripping in sweat and still wearing her track uniform, and she plopped down on Leah’s parents’ couch, muttering a quick “Hey” to Leah as she went.
“Well, hello there,” Leah called, still standing in the doorway.
“Are your parents going to care that my nasty feet are on your furniture?”
“Seriously? Have they ever cared in the, like, ten years that you’ve been hanging out here? I think they’re over it by now. Besides, they’re both still at work,” Leah answered. Mary nodded in reply. “So how was practice?” Leah asked, walking into the kitchen to search the pantry for after-school snacks. She could hear Mary complaining from the living room.
“It sucked! You’d think the coach would take eighth grade track less seriously. But no. Apparently us beating Hubbard’s team is, like, the biggest deal in the universe. He practically blew up at me when my times dropped today. I hate growing up…”
Leah grabbed a couple of grape sodas and walked back to where Mary was stretched out on the couch. As she lowered herself into a nearby arm chair, she noticed another fresh welt pluming on Mary’s upper thigh. It was the third one this month. Leah had heard her parents gossiping about Mary’s stepfather at home, throwing casual pity around for Mary’s mother and speculating as to why she had married him in the first place. When they refused to explain to Leah why Mary’s mother seemed so afraid of her husband, she made her own conclusions about the source of Mary’s bruises.
She found herself staring at the contusion until Mary shifted her legs uncomfortably, and Leah forced her eyes back to her soda can. They fell silent for a moment. Leah bit her lip, and then drew breath to speak, but Mary perked up first.
“Hey, remember that creek we always used to play at when we were kids? The one that was down at the other end of the neighborhood?” Leah flashed back to skipping across rocks with skinny legs, and swinging from stray tree branches beside Mary until dinner called them home. A smile warmed her cheeks.
“Oh my God, I haven’t thought about that place in forever…” Leah said. “We’re getting too old!”
“Yeah, I know! That’s what I was just about to say. There’s no way we’re going to high school in the fall.”
Leah smirked at the familiar topic. Mary had brought up their graduation from middle school at least once a week for the past few months, her voice always tinged with anxiety. But the closer they came to the end of eighth grade, the more Leah began to share her apprehension. The creek wound its way into her thoughts, suggesting itself as an untamed escape from the inevitable drudgery of growing older that now seemed ready to swallow her whole.
“Geez, where did those days go,” Mary said. “Those were good days, man. I mean, we used to play down there for hours on end, and it felt like minutes. And our parents didn’t even notice. I bet if I tried that now, Big Bruce would murder me.” Big Bruce was the name Mary always used to refer to her stepfather when he wasn’t around. Leah forced a laugh in agreement. “I’d love to get away like that again.”
“You know,” Leah said, “we never did follow it all the way down to the end.”
“That’s right! We always said we were going to…” The girls had concocted dozens of myths about the fantastical things they were sure lived at the end of the creek, like trolls with bags of gold to guard, or miniature mermaids who only lived in fresh water. “Well I guess we’d better go find it, then, since we’re all big and brave now,” Mary half-joked.
Leah laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Before the high school monster eats us up.”
Mary stayed for dinner once Leah’s parents came home, and finished most of her homework in Leah’s bedroom. It wasn’t until Mary received a phone call from her stepfather, his voice blaring loudly enough for Leah to hear him from across the room, that Mary trudged back home for the night.

Leah lay in her bed that evening, not able to erase the image of Mary’s bruise from her mind. Mary knew she’d seen it, she was sure, but she had long since abandoned hope that Mary would confide in her the details of her home life. In all their years of friendship, nothing had gone unsaid between them until Mary’s mother brought home Bruce. Leah’s mind wandered as she stared at her bedroom ceiling…
She remembered the first night that she’d heard a smashing sound from Mary’s house down the street, and how Mary had come to school the next day wearing a long sleeved shirt in eighty-five-degree weather, looking shaken and refusing to answer any of Leah’s questions. She remembered all the nights that Mary had appeared outside her first-floor window, often with various dark patches adorning her skinny legs. Leah turned over in her bed, her stomach churning at the recollection. She remembered the days that she’d tried to talk to Mary about her stepfather, and Mary’s constant insistence that nothing was wrong.
Leah felt Mary’s walls growing taller and thicker around her despite Leah’s efforts to break them down, and the distinct mark of desolation was now a permanent feature on Mary’s face. Each day that Leah saw lonely shadows deepen under Mary’s eyes, she felt like screaming, “I’m right here! I’m right beside you!” She clutched her sheets and ran memories of their childhood through her head like vintage film, of unspoiled afternoons spent in the creek, when Mary had a single mother and bruise-free arms. Tears filled her eyes as she curled up tighter in her bed, sinking into sleep.

A sharp rapping sound broke the pitch blackness, and Leah jolted awake. She looked at the clock: 3:17 am. It had to be Mary. Stumbling across her bedroom, she drew back her curtains and saw a sweet, tear-streaked face peering at her through the glass. Mary’s arms had angry red marks swiped across them, and a purplish bruise was beginning to bloom under her collar bone where her blouse had been ripped. She stood feebly in the shrubs as Leah unlatched her window.
They sat on Leah’s bed for at least an hour, Leah wrapping a crumpled, broken Mary up in her arms as she released slow sobs into Leah’s shoulder. Her pajama top grew wet as she rocked Mary back and forth, stroking her hair and humming. When Mary’s breath began to slow, she lay down against the pillow and fell into a deep slumber. Leah gathered the few extra blankets she kept in her closet, making a palette on the floor next to the bed and trying to lull herself to sleep.
Almost the moment Leah’s alarm began squawking the next morning, Mary sat up and appraised the room groggily. Leah grumbled as Mary swung her feet over the bed, unlatched the window, and climbed back out. She was gone before Leah could even make her away across the bedroom. Leah released a sigh, locking her window back and turning to her closet to pick an outfit for the day.
At school that afternoon, Mary skipped into their math class wearing a high-necked sweater, and planted herself in the desk next to Leah. She pulled out her notebook and favorite pencil, and smiled over to her best friend.
“Hey!” she chimed.
“Hey…” Leah answered. She lowered her voice. “So… how are you?”
“Good! You?”
“Well I’m okay, but… you’re not. I mean, you weren’t last night.” Leah was whispering now.
“What are you talking about?”
“Mary, come on. Don’t act like that..”
“What? I’m not acting like anything. I’m fine,” she said, her smiling face marked with an air of finality. “So did you do the homework? I’m such an idiot; I couldn’t get number twelve at all.” Before Leah could push the subject further, their teacher entered the room and set them to work.

Mary waltzed into Leah’s living room that afternoon, her track jacket zipped up to her neck. Leah decided not to bring up the previous night’s events again, slinking into the arm chair across from the couch without a word instead. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and waited for Mary to speak.
“So, school sucked today,” Mary said. Leah agreed with a nod. “I want to do something fun for once. We should go down to that creek.”
“Tonight? Don’t you have homework or something?”
“Maybe. But I don’t really care. It’s just homework, right? And besides, the parents are really getting on my nerves. I just want to be out of the house.”
“Mary, you’re always out of the house.”
“You know what I mean.”
Leah considered for a moment, feeling a whispering urge in her stomach to revisit their old haven. She hoped that they would find something at the creek’s end, something magical, that could repair the mess in which they found themselves. She knew it was illogical, but something inside her hungered for it.
“Yeah, you’re right. Forget homework. Let’s do it.”
The two girls stepped out the door after leaving a note for Leah’s mother, and flitted down the road at top speed. After taking a few wrong turns and backtracking several times, they finally reached the place where the cement faded to gravelly grass, and the trees grew into one another to form a snarled canopy over a familiar little bridge. They smiled at one another in the aurous evening light, and ran straight to the platform. Mary arrived there first, marveling at the clear water running under her feet. Leah stood beside her, beaming. They agreed that it looked exactly like it used to (though a little smaller), and walked to the opposite bank to begin their descent into the murmuring water.
Mary led the way down the creek bed, negotiating her way from rock to rock, each one more threatening than the last. The two girls laughed as they stepped accidentally into the current countless times, reminiscing about the days when their miniature feet could fit on the stones. They passed a tangle of old tree roots jutting from the right bank, remembering having used the mass as shelter on those countless occasions when life at home had been so dreary that they vowed to live in the creek forever. Memories flooded through Leah’s mind as she balanced on a narrow pass of sand, watching Mary’s frame light up with a childish spark that hadn’t been visible for years.
As they made their way downstream, the sky dimmed to a grayish purple. By the time Mary noted the thinning trees, the sun had already dropped below the horizon.
“Leah, look! I think we’re almost to the end!” Mary squealed and grinned back at her best friend, and Leah glowed from the inside out. The girls had never come this far down the brook, and Leah’s pulse quickened as the landscape grew stranger. They picked up speed, and Leah noticed that the creek was beginning to shrink, and the banks were becoming level. The girls began giggling and teasing one another about the miraculous and mythical creatures that were now just yards away from them, arguing over whether they were likelier to find fairies or gnomes.
All at once, they broke into an open space. The girls stood stock still, their laughter cut off. The creek dribbled lazily into a concrete drainage ditch that lay fifty yards behind a foul-smelling bar. They could hear the sounds of the street on the other side of the structure, of honking cars and drunken shouts, and the dull thud of an angry bass line inside the building. They stood at the edge of the concrete ditch in silence, and Leah’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She had known the end of the stream wouldn’t be perfect, but she had still hoped for more than this. This place was ugly, and barren. Every ounce of magic they had found in the creek came crashing down around them in that one instant. She didn’t dare look at Mary’s face. The sky had faded to black, and no stars were visible over the bar’s glaring lights.
After several moments of wordlessness, a series of slurred jeers fell on Mary and Leah’s ears. They looked in the direction of the noise to find two staggering men coming away from the back wall of the bar, zipping up their jeans and beginning to stumble toward the two girls. Leah’s whole body tensed up as she heard them send cat calls over the air, and watched them nudge one another hungrily, their rosy faces leering. She glanced at Mary’s face, which was painted with sickening recognition. Her eyes were wide with fear as she met Leah’s gaze, and she hissed one frantic command: “Go!” Leah turned instantly and tore off for the creek again, her blood surging. Not ten strides in, she heard a crash and a squeal behind her. She looked back to see Mary scrambling to right herself as the two men drew nearer. Leah ran back and pulled Mary up by the hand, keeping a tight grip on her best friend as they both raced through the water, pant legs soaking, all the way back up the creek. Her breath ripped through her chest, but she kept pace with Mary’s long strides and didn’t dare look back.
When they had finally run the length of the creek, sprinted across the tiny bridge and made their way down a side street in their neighborhood, they slowed to a halt and collapsed into the grass at the edge of a public park, their feet lolling over the edge of the curb and onto the asphalt. Leah sucked in sharp breaths, and Mary sat shaking next to her, staring at the ground and wringing her hands. Leah leaned back on her arms, letting her head fall against her shoulders. She released a few more breaths, and her pulse slowed.
A moment passed in silence before Mary opened her trembling lips to speak.
“Hey, um…” she said in a small voice, “thanks for… for, you know, not leaving me back there. I mean, I really thought you were just gonna leave when I tripped and stuff, but… you… you still…” she trailed off.
Leah turned her head to look at Mary’s face: it was obstructed by tangled hair and hunched shoulders. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and her back trembled with covert sobs. Leah got to her knees and repositioned herself to sit right at Mary’s feet, looking up into her streaked features. Leah’s eyes began to well up, too.
“Of course I did. I would never leave you behind. I’m here. I’m always here. I wish you knew that, about… about everything that’s happened.” She placed a hand on Mary’s face, and Mary placed her own hand over it. After a moment, Mary met Leah’s gaze through watery eyes.
“I do know.”
Leah felt those words wash over her like pouring rain. She had never heard Mary say anything like that before. At that moment, Mary reached out and embraced Leah fully, not shaking, not whimpering, not slumping. Leah squeezed her back, and they held each other tightly, tears streaming down both sets of cheeks. At length, they pulled apart and stood up slowly together, Leah wiping the tears from Mary’s face, Mary brushing the hair from Leah’s eyes, each helping the other to her feet. Leah braced her arm around Mary’s waist, allowing her to lean her head on Leah’s shoulder as they started off together down the road.
“No more secrets?” Leah asked as they walked.
“No more secrets.”