Craaaaaa-ch-ch-ch-ch. Craaaaaa-ch-ch-ch-ch. It was late at night, and the birds were still calling. The path from the river twisted and wound back to camp, bright compared to the rest of the brush.
“Daddy, why’s it so cold?” Andrea asked as she tugged at her pigtails.
“Because when the sun goes down, the world gets sad,” I took her hand again and blew out the lantern. We knew our way to the tent well enough out here to make it in the dark.
“D-daddy,” Andrea tripped over a root that looked like a hand in the soft moonlight, “Why don’t the black ones sleep?”
“I’m not sure, honey,” I pulled my hand up and steadied her. I could see a soft red light in the tent, so inviting out of the cold. Andrea was right; it was getting very cold, very fast. “Maybe they’re sad that the sun is gone too.”
“Daddy, I love you,” Andrea smiled up at me as I pulled the sleeping bag tight around her shoulders.
“I love you too, honey.”
Craaaaaa-ch-ch-ch-ch.
“Why’s it so cold when the black ones don’t sleep? Why’s it so warm in the water so deep? Why does the river sing scratches when I sleep? Why’s it so warm in the water so deep?”
“Daddy?” I jolted awake. What a horrible… I dreamt…
“Daaaddy?” Silence. I waited to hear it again. That singsong voice, I knew it…
“Daddy, do you think I can swim like the big black ones?” I slid out of the thick sleeping bag.
“No, honey, it’s too late to go swimming,” My voice dropped like a rock into still water. Even the wind was silent.
“Daddy?” Andrea’s sleeping bag was empty. Andrea? Where are – “Daddy, why’s it so cold?”
“It’s not cold, Andrea,” I zipped the tent up after me. It wasn’t cold at all. The heat felt like it was suffocating. Each breath I released was harder to take back than the last. “Where are you?”
Her high pitched laugh glided through the air, even though the air was as heavy as bricks.
I could hear nothing except for the river now. I stumbled and fumbled through the branches. I could feel blood dripping down my arms where the brambles cut too deep, but I couldn’t feel any pain. “Andrea? Where are you?”
“Why’s it so cold when the black one’s don’t sleep?” On the shoreline, a tiny figure stood holding a stick out over the water.
“Why’s it so warm in the water so deep?” She took a step into the water. I rushed towards her, but she was just as far away as ever.
“Why does the river sing scratches when I sleep?” She was in to her waist. The water was flashing black with the body of something that was swirling inside.
“Why’s it so warm in the water so deep?” Andrea waved. I stopped running and waved back. Her head bobbed on the surface before it disappeared.
Craaaaaa-ch-ch-ch-ch. The wind whistled. My heartbeat pounded through my hands into my ears. I thought I could hear tears going down my nose.
“Daddy?” Someone with a tiny hand put it on my back. I jumped.
“Andrea?” I smiled at her and wiped away my tears. She reached out her hand.
“Daddy, I’m tired.” The path from the river twisted and wound in the dark.
“Daddy, why’s it so cold?” Andrea tugged at her pigtails.
“Because when the sun goes down, the world gets sad,” I knew the way back to the tent well enough in the dark. I took her hand again before blowing out the lantern.
“Daddy, why don’t the black ones sleep?”
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