Travel Lightly in My Heart

Rae stared out at the Ouachita River, searching the roiling water for a sign. The river was normally a half mile from her doorstep but today it was here, crossing over the threshold and coming right up to the roof where she sat.

Asphalt shingles get so hot in the August sun. It’s hard to believe how hot they can get, actually. Rae carefully adjusted her sitting position on the corner of the roof of her house, looking for a way to keep the blistering heat from seeping through her black gym shorts. Her shoes were long gone. So were all her photo albums, her brand new sofa and she didn’t want to think of what (or who) else might have been swept away in the festering, rancid flood water that surrounded her house, up to the eaves. She pushed the darkest flashes of the chaos of the last 24 hours out of her mind. She promised herself she would think about Ty’s hand slipping out of hers later.

She was here. She was safe. For now. She scanned the horizon all around her and waited for rescue. She mentally rehearsed the date in her mind: Tuesday, August 12, 2025 – she had to stay grounded in reality or she would lose herself completely. She guessed by the hot sun beating down on her it was noon or a little after. Her phone was with her but the battery died last night after she tried to call 911 so many times.

She stood up, stretching out her long brown legs, standing on the Arkansas Razorbacks t-shirt she’d removed to act as a buffer between her bare feet and the scorching shingles. She reached her slender arms up overhead and stretched her back wondering what GrandMom would think of her out here on the roof in her hot pink bra and gym shorts. She wondered if GrandMom was looking down at her from heaven. It was hard to think she’d been gone almost a year.

“GrandMom, don’t be mad at me now. I swear I am not trying to be indecent. Who but you and the Good Lord can see me anyways?” she spoke out loud. The discomfort of her aloneness was starting to seep in around the edges, the way the water had seeped in under the front door; a little at first and then –

Before she could finish her thought, Rae heard a crashing sound and wheeled around to see a whole house – an off-white ranch-style home with tan shutters – came busting through the stand of trees to the north, powered by thousands of gallons of brown water. The house, pitched at an absurd angle, sailed along like some schooner let loose from its mooring, missing her own house by 200 yards or more – close enough that Rae could see the window boxes filled with an assortment of plastic and silk florals from the Dollar Store.

The sight of it made Rae laugh, even though she knew it really wasn’t funny and maybe there were people inside who needed help. She tried to suppress a giggle, covering her face in her dark brown hands as it glided by her, a soundless absurdity floating on the Ouachita River which was itself an absurdity having abandoned its banks to sweep through the valley and swallow up farms and cars and homes and pets and people… and Ty. Not now. I can’t. She pushed the thought away.

“GrandMom, did you see that?! It sure looked like Watersons’. I hope ol’ Ms. Esther wasn’t trapped inside with her cats and her scratch off tickets!” Rae’s giggles turned to gales of laughter that shook her whole body. She hugged her arms around herself and let the laughs pour out, picturing poor Ms. Waterson sitting at her kitchen table, Virginia Slim in the corner of her mouth, cats mewing around her feet while she scratches another ticket, hoping for the jackpot as she sails down the old river to god-knows-where. Rae laughed until she slid into sobs – long, soul-deep sobs. She knew she should save her energy rather than to spend it wailing for her situation but by now she couldn’t stop herself. Her mind raced back to the moment she lost him:

Ty. Ty. Ty’s kind brown eyes looking up at her, as he helped her climb up onto the roof… the sound of water like a freight train bearing down on them. She turned around to help him, reaching for his hand, his wet, slippery hand slipping, slipping, slipping and letting go of her grasp. “RAE!!” the panicked way he said her name and then he was gone.

Now Rae was really screaming, “TY! TY! TYSON ADAM FIELDS!” Her body and her mind couldn’t tell if it was today or if it was the previous night; her last moments with Ty crackling across her memory like a late May lightning storm – 300 million volts hitting her soul again and again.

Ty was her baby brother but nearly twice her size. He had broad shoulders that helped him knock linemen to the ground and led to offers from colleges all over the South. His grin was electric and his soft-spoken politeness made him popular with the ladies going all the way back to middle school. Only Rae knew his secret. She hoped one day, when football was over, he could come out and live his truth. She understood why it wasn’t possible now, though. No distractions, he always said. He didn’t want to shift focus away from the next workout, the next tackle, the next win.

Rae crumpled back to the asphalt, pulling her knees into her chest, wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands, sobbing, the pain in her chest searing – both hot and cold at the same time and radiating to every inch of her body. She knew deep inside Ty was gone, down to her very mitochondria, but she was not about to let her brain think it. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

“Oh GrandMom, I wish you were here. I am so alone and I don’t know what to do.” She was defeated, she felt like a squeezed out lemon, cut in half with grief; twisted over the reamer, drained all her hope – how long will I have to wait to be found? Will I be found? Will I live?

The sun was setting now, finally, reflecting off the flooded river all around her. How many hours had it been? She was thirsty and hungry but she had no trouble relieving herself on a corner far away from where she’d set up camp. Soon someone would come looking for her, she reassured herself, almost believing it to be true. She just had to survive the night. She’d already spent one night confined to the roof, screaming Ty’s name into the blackness.

Tonight she would survive again but she wouldn’t call his name.