River Rise

River Rise

Nick Vellis

Diana hustled down the sidewalk, pumps in hand as she felt rivulets of perspiration running down her back she murmured aloud, “Calmly, its OK,” but her mind was ready to explode with rage. She despised being late, it drove her crazy. When random people dragged into class late or friends failed to meet her on time she would coldly roll her eyes in disgust.  The lack of self control, the lack of respect was intolerable! She, however, was never like that. She was always in perfect control, except tonight.  Here she was running way late for the party she had suggested and planned.  She was anything but cool or in control.

She turned a corner, jogged halfway down the block and stopped before an inviting, covered hall between two buildings and a sign that read simply, The Carriage House. Like the hidden courts of New Orleans this place had elegance, an intoxicating spirit that at once quenched her burning mind. It was private yet inviting, perfect for the sorority’s first social of the Fall semester.  The place’s origins were reflected in cracked, faded photos of horses and buggies, men in top hats and women in elegant antebellum gowns that lined the gas lit brick corridor leading to the entrance.  The main room spread before her, its dimmed lighting radiating grace and style, just the mood she had wanted to create.  Now it seemed that mood was washing over her. Michael Buble’s Sway was playing in the background and at last she sighed and let down. Brick pavers exposed to ninety years of scuffing shoes made a great place to dance.  Exposed beams cradled four immense skylights filled with the rich golden glow of a fading sun.  Soon they would reveal light from a sky thinly veiled by cottony wisps of white and grey and a full moon. The back wall held a long well stocked bar staffed with eager young men.  Floor to ceiling windows in each of the remaining three walls reflected the few dimly lit occupants. Each window was capped with dark boxes that streamed delicate tendrils festooned with white blossoms. They reminded her of miniature waterfalls but light and sweet with fragrance.  Tall tables were scattered about each with dark wood stools with swiveling seats. They wobbled delightfully on the uneven floor.  Each table had its own candle lit silver vase illuminating a single orchid in its flickering light.  The ambiance was deep, rich, and intoxicating.  It was the perfect place for the sorority’s welcome back dance and the swiveling stool was the perfect place for Diana to take it all in, watch as her friends arrived and to look for him, whoever he was.

She paid little attention the crowd chatting with friends as they came in.  She got a glass of wine then another until she only though of having a good time. She noticed him while mindlessly swinging back and forth on her stool and suddenly the inane girl chatter around her disappeared. She caught a glimpse of a shock of long blond hair but it immediately disappeared in the crowd. She saw the reflection of linen jacket, khaki slacks.  She could see expensive snake or crocodile loafers, probably Testoni that set off the look. He might be just right for her if she could just see. He had his back to her though so she couldn’t be sure but the physique was right, trim but not to muscular. From her swivel watch tower she strained to catch a clear glimpse of him.  She saw a distorted reflection in the window glass, it could be.  She decided to go on the hunt and asked some random guy to dance.  As she and the guy moved ever closer she finally had the satisfaction of certain knowledge.  She danced with the guy smiling and making small talk but constantly looking for him. She left her less than stellar dance partner and mingled with the crowd only to see him again, still across the room as though he avoiding her.  He was everywhere she looked.  She could not explain her attraction.  Somehow he was fascinating.  In another age he could have been a prince or a legendary hero. Tall, athletically lean, longish dirty blond hair he tossed now and again with a flick of his head. He looked just a few years her senior perhaps twenty-22.  He had that queer smile that at once gave her a feeling of dread and exhilaration as it spread across his long, narrow face. She over heard her sorority sisters say no one knew him, that he must be a crasher but no one objected because he was so smooth and oh, so cute.  He was dancing with anyone and many of the women were asking.  Some of the guys were grumbling. 

“Hi, I’m Diana, want to dance?” she asked as she boldly marching up to him.  He sullenly shook his head and looked away as if he didn’t care.  “I said, want to dance?”  “Your are a crasher, so don’t push your luck”, she insisted.  “I’m Derek”, he said flashing a practiced captivating grin, “Guess you’ve sealed your fate.” This odd remark gave her an inward shudder.  What did he know?  The remark added to his mystery and surely he didn't mean anything by it. “Derek - I’ve never been with a, I mean danced with someone named, oh never mind”, she stammered. She hoped her act would put him at ease. But at least she knew his name.  They danced twice.  When the music stopped he thanked her and excused himself.  He went straight over to a blond in a skin tight eyelet halter dress he had danced with earlier. The blond was all over him in an instant.  When the music stopped she pulled him a way with her sweetest smile saying, “Were we done?”

They danced slowly twice more, silent has they held each other gently.  In the midst of a slow dance they kissed as if by accident.  He seemed startled and suddenly excused himself.  She watched as he headed for the door.  She followed, finding him waiting for her in the gas lit entrance way.  They kissed again, he asked her to leave with him and without thinking she said yes. She had suggested a drive and in talking about where to go came up with an idea to which he nodded his agreed. Soon she would be paddling toward River Rise with this hot guy she had just met. 

They arrived at the Highway 441 Santa Fe river bridge less than an hour later.  The moon was a hazy disk hanging just a little above the tree line. Anyone seeing their arrival in the roadway lights would have considered it an odd sight given the hour, their elegant dress and giggling efforts to remove the large green canoe from the top of the red Mini Cooper.  That unseen voyeur would have soon guessed the cause of the merriment, however, where they had been, were going and what they soon planned to do. No one did see them though and not a car crossed that bridge just as she had guessed.

The day had been one of those heat alert steamers where no one except those who had to move out of their climate control.  The mercury had risen to 97 and with humidity the heat index had hovered around 120 most of the day. Clouds in the sky held promise of relieving rain but it had been a false promise for weeks.  Now, the burning ball was gone from the sky but the temperature still hovered around 90 even at this late hour.  So it was no surprise after several hours of consuming cool but alcoholic drinks in a hot crowded room these two had decided to get away to the only relief imaginable, the river.

They labored heavily to get the craft down dropping it with a hollow bang.  It would have been no challenge at all had she worn flats not four inch heels and perhaps a pair of camp shorts and a safari shirt not the slinky black sheath dress with just the right reveal front and back and a length she now found easier to pull up for movement than down for modesty.  The linen sport coat he had chosen for its cool feel now only limited his reach.

When finally, perhaps mercifully, they managed to put the object of their struggle onto the wet grass they both fell, arms around each other, to the ground.  They laughed at the effort the simple task had required, at the joke they were playing on themselves and on those who thought they knew these two people.  The embrace lasted but a moment as they both pulled away. They looked at each other and reenacted the moment that had brought them here.  It had been only hours before when an innocent bob of the head on the dance floor, during a delightful, lingering slow dance brought them together.  Now they were thirty miles from Gainesville, with a canoe, setting off in the moon light with hopes, fears and alcohol fueled passion.

He put an arm around her for support and together they rose and pushed and pulled the canoe through the tall grass along the side of the bridge.  Except for their condition and clothing the fifty yards were an easy portage to the 72-degree Santa Fe River.  They entered the canoe gingerly fearing the loss of balance their consumption activities had brought on.  She giggled when she realized she and the canoe were both tipsy on the bank.

Once on the water, however, they quickly steadied and began paddling together, he in the rear.  They exchanged no words.  They had spoken on the patio in only a few guarded syllables.  Both worried about being seen with so attractive a potential partner, though for starkly different reasons.  The result of those few words was they were here, moving silently toward their anticipated individual passion.  They paddled smoothly up stream staying to the center of the river safe from snags and where the current from silent unseen springs was slightly less strong.  One could tell the other had experience in canoes.  Neither had any fear or apprehension, though she had some back of the brain nagging doubt and he wondered if this could really be happening.  The lights of the bridge faded behind them and the sound of the woods and the night itself surrounded them.  Insects made their night song, turtles recklessly plopped into the water at their approach, the sound of a nearby alligator croaking its love for another all came together to give her a feeling of calm and heightened her tingle of anticipation. The musty dankness of the river was everywhere enveloping them like the night sounds.  She breathed in the smell of decayed wood and damp pine straw. The cool damp was strangely refreshing after the oppressive heat of the day.  The black, tannic water seemed to draw out her misgivings, absorbing them as she settled into the rhythm of a comfortable j-stroke.

She had never imagined doing something as impulsive as this.  He was an exciting stranger.  She had her principles, her sense and yet here she was.  Paddling toward River Rise in silence with a man she didn't know, to what she expected would be a night of inexplicable delights.  She was scared.  The paddles struck the water and propelled them forward.

When she finally spoke they had traveled miles.  She decided to try some small talk, perhaps the weather, the heat had been a good topic at the party. “How about this heat?  Where are you from?”, she tried tentatively. “Are you in school here?” His silence was louder than the starless night. “What’s with this heat, at least its cooler out here?”  While she spoke the silent, inky river rolled on absorbing her words.  The nearby bank seemed nearly as dark as the water itself and both reflected her thoughts. Rank after rank of live oak, pine and even cypress covered the shore, all as silent as he and the only witness to their passing. An occasional splash from her paddle reminded her that the water wasn't solid.  Her words seemed to have no effect but yet she didn't have the stomach to face him.  She looked to the banks, ahead to the black passage before them that reminded her of a long gun barrel, but not behind, not at him.

When he finally answered her softly he told her to "absorb the experience".  Puzzled, she nervously turned to face him, to see him in this light for the first time.  The moonlight seemed to radiate from his narrow face as it illuminated that strange, familiar smile.  He had removed his jacket and his starched shirt was open to the waist.  The cloth clung to him accentuating not only his firm body but the humidity and heat her internal conversations had blocked out.  She suddenly realized she was drenched. Her sweat was so heavy she was amazed she had not noticed it. It mixed with her scent, called by no coincidence, Desire, in a way she had never experienced.  Perhaps fear did turn her on.  She cupped her hand into the cold river to refresh her face.  She dipped her hand a second time and poured is frigid contents down the front of her dress creating a shudder but not bringing her to reality.  She was here. She would go through with it.  He continued to paddle smoothly to the River Rise.

“You know the Santa Fe is an odd ball Florida river,” she rattled on nervously.  “The St. Johns flows north, the Ocklawaha is all dammed up but the Santa Fe has its oddity too”.  “The Santa Fe goes southwest for miles then disappears under ground running below a state park.”  “It emerges in a sort of river cul -de- sac at a place called River Rise before flowing on to the Gulf.”  “It is an uncommon feat for a river but it's a rather common place.”  She had given this geography lesson without looking back.  “The river bends suddenly left.  Instead of an expanse of water laying before you the river comes to a dead end”.  She knew a crescent of sandy beach was all that marked this unusual feature natural.  “While it's different it is not often visited and rarely at night.” her last words dropped off and were lost into the river.  It was just the place for two people to be alone, two people with their own smoldering passions.

Turning in the seat to face him she stretched her long tan legs toward him.  He watched and paddled. She drank in his rugged features. She could see now as she had guessed that he was athletically built his sculpted arms and chest moved with a fluid motion born of strength.  He was looking past her, down river into the dark abyss.  Under the ceiling of gauzy clouds a familiar blue and golden light shown down and was picked up by his face.  It reflected the darkness of the water and his face.

She decided to try a new tack since conversation was going nowhere.  She fidgeted with her panties through the waist of the dress then leaned forward lifting off the seat. Next she reached up the short skirt to pull her panties off in one motion.  She sat quietly dangling the small piece of black cloth from her index finger while the canoe settled.  He had looked into her eyes the whole while, looked and paddled.  This unsettled her.  She had always had the desired effect on a man and this one seemed immune.  She twirled the panties on her finger and asked, “Want these?”  With a single nod she saw he was at least paying attention.  She boldly tossed them and they landed against his bare chest.  She shuddered though when he held his paddle with one hand and put the panties to his face with the other.  He inhaled deeply, twice, closing his eyes for what seemed an eternity.  He opened his eyes; the panties came away from his face to reveal his curious smile. He carelessly dropped them into the dark water and wordlessly began to paddle again.

Usually at this point she knew when she had a man.  In her twenty-two years there had been enough of them for her to know, but not this time.  He was so quiet, as deep and dark as the river, just as shed had imagined and dreaded.  It made her want it now not however long till they reached River Rise.  She watched him as intently as he watched the river.  She felt a ringing in her ears.  Was it excitement, the drinks, or just fear of this unknown man who was so steadily taking her away up the river?  The silence that had been so loud as she'd looked up stream seemed to fade to nothing now that she saw him in the moonlight. Her head was filled with the pounding of her heart.  There was no need to fear this powerful stranger with the odd smile.  So he was quiet.  He had promised just what she had hoped in that hallway.  She had said it would be like no other he'd ever had.  She knew she could make good on that promise.

She arched toward him extending her legs.  Realizing she was soaked and remembering the dress fit her like a second skin she was oddly self-conscious.  She had bought the dress for just such an occasion when she could use her charms to have what she wanted, when she wanted it.  She had done it many times.  Tonight though was somehow different.  It must be that smile.  Resolute and thinking if he was true to his word he would see her naked anyway.  She put down her paddle and stood, careful not to tip them over.  He watched continuing his powerful strokes.  She put one foot on his bent leg and she looked down into his smiling face. Her bare foot traced a wet trail on the inside of his leg. He looked up at her with a calm face and closed his eyes.  Was he dreaming of her or someone else? She moved slowly and he responded by opening his eyes.  She bent at the waist, reached down to the hem of the dress and in one smooth, silent motion rose pulling the dress with her.  It came up, clung momentarily to her wet bare breasts and then over her head.  Carefully placing her feet on either side of the canoe’s center line she came to her full height, arched and bathed naked in the moon glow.  Relieved to be out of the confines of the dress she stretched reveling in the sudden coolness the clammy night air gave her moist body.  Then she remembered, looked down and saw him watching, watching her and driving them to their final destination.  She balled the sopping rag the expensive dress had become into a wad and used it to cushion her bare bottom from the metal seat.  His expression never changed.  He just paddled.

She suddenly had a chill as she realized she was naked, miles from anywhere with a man who was not quite acting natural. 

She was about to ask him what the hell was wrong with him when he nodded ahead and murmured, "We're here". Whether it was the event of their arrival, that he had finally said something or something all together different, a wave of relief sweep over her.  She turned in the seat returning to her paddle to help him beach the canoe. Here, where the river welled up from its underground prison and came alive she felt exhilarated.  She had felt this before but never like this, never so strongly.  She felt it must be the place. It was a real wonder, dark, quiet, and so full of, something?

  He slipped off his expensive loafers and lightly hopped out pants rolled up to the knee, guiding the canoe to the bank. He offered her his hand as she stepped onto the cool wet sand. It oozed between her toes strangely comforting her.  He helped her up the bank and quickly left her, returning in an instant with a soft blanket.  He spread the blanked on the sand in a puddle of light at the water’s edge.  She sat, then stretched back and marveled at the moonlight. How it seemed attracted to his disquieting smile just as it had been on the patio.  He stood over her, his hair pushed back his clothes dripping wet with sweat and the river. She knew why she was here.  She was here to yield to the passion in her. She knew she was going to use his body.

Standing there the odd smile was hidden by shadow yet she knew it was there, waiting.  Was his face not visible with the moon behind him  or because she did not want to see it?  Maybe it would be different this time. She reached up to him and he gently pushed her hands a way.  He began slowly to remove his clothes.  Her anticipation quickened.  She still couldn't see his face.  She reached up to him again and again he gently pushed her hands away.  She closed her eyes in frustration.  When she opened them again he was behind her.  This time when she reached out to him he took her hands and gently pulled them behind her.  He clearly wanted to use her. He knelt behind her and kissed her as he had twice before with a passion and tenderness she couldn't remember with any of the others.  Here where the river came alive, here at River Rise she to would come alive, perhaps for the very first time.  She pressed her eyes tightly closed to savor the feeling.  He moved to lie next to her. He pressed himself on top of her, caressed her and kissed her in the way her body seemed to demand.  They rolled over until she was atop him and the moonlight fell on his face.  Suddenly it came to her.  This was when it would happen.  She closed her eyes again, almost in pain, knowing what she wanted was not to be and what she feared was before her.  It would be the same tonight and she could not stop it.

She washed in the river, her body, her face, her hair, her hands and of course the paddle.  She swam naked trying to cool her mind as well as her body.  Emerging a different person she toweled herself with the damp dress and gently wrung her long dark hair so an untied ponytail lay against her back. Once back in the canoe she set off for the bridge. 

The down stream trip was eased by the swift current.  She was drained, but so well satisfied.  She had told him she would take him in a way he would never forget. At least she hadn't lied to him.  The blood was always so thick and sticky, so very dark in the glow of the moon.  She never remembered that until she saw it again. This time it had gone easier than before.  Maybe it would only take a few more.  It seemed strange now.  She had no clear recollection of the man who had raped her.  She could only see the smile and the strange light on his face whenever she closed her eyes.  That smile in the moon light.  It was so odd men still went off with her when so many were missing.  She guessed it was her smile that attracted them.  She had, after all, practiced it just for them.  As she smiled up at the moon she felt the first drops of a cooling rain.  Relief at last!