Chapter 17 - THE WALK THROUGH MUD.
The water was only ankle-deep now.
That should have made it feel safe.
It didn't.
Brown water moved across the lower walkway in thin, restless sheets.
Mud covered the concrete.
Leaves clung to the curb.
Emergency lights flashed beyond the church grounds.
Frank walked first.
Emily followed carrying Sophie.
Ryan stayed beside her.
Linda came behind them.
Carol and Ryan's father waited for another route with several older people who couldn't manage the slippery walkway.
The crowd under the canopy had grown smaller.
More intimate.
That made every glance impossible to miss.
Frank's borrowed sweatshirt hung loose over his soaked navy shirt.
His grey-white beard still dripped.
Ryan had changed into dry clothes, but his hair remained wet and his jaw reddened from the scramble out of the flood.
Emily's cream cardigan clung to her arms.
Sophie stayed wrapped in the same grey blanket.
Dry.
Protected.
The muddy car seat sat beside the entrance.
Frank stopped near it.
Emily did too.
Ryan looked at the seat.
"Leave it."
Frank glanced at him.
Ryan's voice was quiet.
"We have pictures."
Frank nodded.
No argument.
They moved past.
For six steps.
Then Frank stopped.
Emily sighed.
"Dad."
He turned back.
"I know."
"No."
"I know."
Ryan looked confused.
"What?"
Frank walked toward the seat.
Emily's pulse rose.
"You said leave it."
Ryan said, "Frank."
Frank crouched.
He examined the seat.
Not sentimentally.
Practically.
Mud.
Straps.
Buckles.
Water.
He lifted it.
Emily stared.
"Dad."
Frank looked at her.
"I'm carrying it to the entrance."
"It is at the entrance."
"Other entrance."
"Why?"
Frank's jaw tightened.
"Because that's where we're leaving."
Ryan stepped closer.
"We don't need it."
"I know."
"Then put it down."
Frank looked at him.
Ryan's voice sharpened.
"This is exactly what I mean."
Emily frowned.
"What?"
Ryan pointed at the car seat.
"He wants everybody to see him carrying it."
Frank went still.
Emily felt heat rise in her face.
Ryan continued.
"He wants the image."
Frank stared.
"The image?"
"Yes."
"Of what?"
"Of you going back. You saving everybody. Me failing."
Frank's face changed.
Emily stepped between them.
"Ryan."
"No."
He looked at Frank.
"You've been carrying that thing around like a trophy."
Frank's hands tightened on the handle.
The car seat swung slightly.
Mud dripped onto the concrete.
Linda stepped closer.
"Ryan."
He ignored her.
"You could've left it outside."
Frank's voice dropped.
"Could've."
"You didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Frank looked at Emily.
Then Sophie.
Then at Ryan.
"Because I went back for it."
Ryan laughed.
"Exactly."
Frank's eyes narrowed.
"No. Not exactly."
He set the seat down.
Carefully.
One movement.
No drama.
Then he stepped toward Ryan.
Emily held her breath.
Frank stopped two feet away.
"You think I wanted to go back?"
Ryan's bravado flickered.
Frank continued.
"You think I enjoyed that water?"
"I didn't say—"
"You think I wanted my daughter watching me walk into it?"
Ryan looked away.
Frank's voice remained controlled.
"I went because that seat was tangled where people were walking and because it belongs to my granddaughter."
Emily hadn't known that.
Neither had Ryan.
Frank pointed.
"I carried it because leaving it in moving water didn't make sense at the time."
Ryan's mouth tightened.
Frank added:
"Then I put it down."
No symbolism.
No grand intention.
At first.
Emily remembered what Frank told her earlier.
He wanted one thing left where people could see it.
Both could be true.
Practical reason.
Emotional reason later.
Human beings were allowed complexity.
Ryan stared at the mud.
"I shouldn't have said trophy."
"No."
"I'm sorry."
Frank nodded.
"Okay."
They continued.
But something had changed.
Ryan's attacks were becoming weaker because nobody was feeding them.
Not Emily.
Not Frank.
Not Linda.
Each time he tried to make himself the victim of being judged, the facts stayed where they were.
The crowd at the lower canopy was larger.
People who had left the fellowship hall waited there for vehicles and instructions.
Frank carried the car seat through the shallow floodwater.
Mud splashed his trousers.
The plastic seat knocked gently against his leg.
Emily followed.
Sophie shifted.
Ryan walked beside them.
No one spoke.
A man near the canopy recognized Ryan.
"Hey, you okay?"
Ryan nodded.
"Yeah."
"That your SUV?"
"Yeah."
"Man, brutal."
Ryan looked at Emily.
Then at Sophie.
He answered differently this time.
"Could've been worse."
Frank heard.
Emily heard.
The man nodded.
"Thank God everybody's safe."
Ryan swallowed.
"Yeah."
Progress.
Small.
Real.
Then another person approached.
"You were the guy who got pulled out, right?"
Ryan nodded.
The man pointed at Frank.
"He went in after you?"
Ryan's face changed.
Frank started to answer.
Ryan beat him to it.
"He went in after my wife."
Emily froze.
Frank looked at him.
Ryan continued:
"And our baby."
The man looked at Emily.
"Oh."
His expression shifted.
"Wow."
Ryan nodded.
No shrinking.
No nearby.
No safe the whole time.
Emily's eyes filled.
The man walked away.
Ryan did not look at her.
Maybe he was afraid the correction would look performative.
Maybe it was.
Emily didn't care.
Truth spoken late was still better than a lie maintained forever.
Linda came beside Emily.
"That mattered."
Emily nodded.
"Yes."
They reached the canopy.
The muddy car seat was placed in the foreground near the entrance.
Frank set it down.
It remained there.
Visible.
Ryan looked at it.
No comment.
Emergency workers told them Frank's truck could now be reached if they walked up the service lane.
Emily prepared to go.
Ryan touched her arm.
"Can I talk to you before you leave?"
She hesitated.
"Okay."
Frank moved away.
Linda did too.
Ryan looked at Sophie.
"I don't want you to go."
"I know."
"But I understand why."
Emily nodded.
"I don't know how long."
"I know."
"I'm not promising anything tonight."
"I know."
Ryan swallowed.
"Can I kiss her?"
Emily held Sophie closer.
Then allowed him.
Ryan kissed the pink knit cap.
His eyes closed.
When he stepped back, he looked hollow.
"Can I kiss you?"
Emily looked at him.
"No."
He nodded.
That hurt him.
She saw it.
He did not punish her for it.
That mattered too.
Ryan stepped away.
Emily turned toward Frank.
"Dad."
He came.
She looked toward the service lane.
"Let's go."
Frank nodded.
Then a voice behind them said:
"Wait."
Ryan.
Emily turned.
His expression had changed again.
Not anger.
Fear.
"What?"
He looked at Frank.
Then at the muddy car seat.
Then at the people under the canopy.
"Before you go, I need to know what he told everybody."
Emily's hope collapsed.
May you like
Frank's face went still.
And Linda Carter, standing three feet away, finally stopped being patient.
