Read Online The Twilight Swimmer by A C Kavich - Free Book Online Page A

boat off Puget Sound; the slender Indian girl who sang sadly on the beaches of Goa;  the surfing brothers, twins, who never missed a predawn wave and chatted incessantly about escaping Auckland. They became as familiar to the Swimmer as the jigsaw edges of the shores he traveled, as comforting as the sight of colorful fish darting in and out of their coral homes, as haunting as the sight of massive ships gliding by overhead, their massive hulls casting underwater shadows. The human voices seemed, somehow, to bind together all the disparate elements of his life in the water. And as his feelings of kinship with humans grew stronger, his isolation from them became more clear and more severe. He pushed away the malaise their voices sometimes brought and kept listening, unwilling to deny himself the pleasures that came with the pain.
    But her voice. Her voice hurried the beating of his heart and the racing of his mind. It sent shivers through him even as it warmed him. For too many nights to count, he had strained his ears to hear her, even when she was far from shore. He blocked out the white noise the land produced, blocked out the orchestral music, to focus on her voice alone. Over water, past rocks, through dense trees and walls, he sought her voice and he found it.
    For months, her voice had been a beacon, and difficult to resist. Now that she had seen him, walking upright, the warehouse fire casting light on his pale face… he found her voice impossible to resist.
    The clothes she left for him at the water’s edge were the first he had worn, but he’d seen men of every shape and size pull similar items over their bodies. With some difficulty, he slid his legs into pants and arms into sleeves. The fit was good, but the sensation of restriction made him feel claustrophobic. He dove deep, feeling the drag the fabric made against the water. He kicked hard, stretched his arms, twisted and rolled. With every movement, the clothing denied him mobility. And yet, she had given him this gift. He would not ignore the kindness.
    By the time he climbed out of the water, the sun was a memory and the moon was at its zenith.
    Past midnight.
     
    Brandi was in bed, but she wasn’t sleeping. Her covers pulled up to her chin despite the warmth of the night, she wore oversized headphones blaring classical music. Bolero. Staring at a patch of moonlight on the ceiling, she drummed her fingers against the wall, following the music as it gathered complexity and built toward crescendo. She played no instruments, but she loved music. Anything without lyrics, which only got in the way.
    Spider had called that evening, after dinner. The house phone. Brandi didn’t know how he got the number, but supposed that phonebooks weren’t quite obsolete yet and her father no doubt had them listed. Her mother took the call and handed Brandi the receiver, watching Brandi’s face for some sort of evidence as to the nature of her relationship with a boy who would proudly announce such a strange name. Classmates working on a school project, she probably hoped. Brandi took the receiver without revealing a single clue to her mother, marching outside to the deck to speak privately.
    Spider had called to apologize. “I was yelling at you to get in the car, get in the car, get in the car. But you were like, entranced. Like some kind of zombie. I mean, flesh attached and intact, but you know what I mean. Just staring, hypnotized. Have you ever been hypnotized? Because I’m serious, you’ve got the look down perfect.” He droned on for several minutes, finding various ways to say he was sorry for leaving her behind, inventing more ways to describe the strangeness of her behavior in that crucial moment when she should have climbed into his wagon. “I’d have jumped out and dragged you in if this ankle wasn’t shot to hell. It’s better now, by the way. Cold compress technology. Thanks for asking.”
    She was supposed to apologize for failing to ask about his