ACT TWO ━━ CHAPTER EIGHT
Dead Man's Float

WHEN ADALINE WOKE UP THAT NEXT MORNING, for a second she had forgotten everything that had happened. She noticed that she was in a foreign bed in a room too dark to have been her own bedroom, dressed in clothes that weren't hers either. The memories of the previous day only came back to her once she saw Arvin sleeping in the small chair in the corner of his room.

Adaline saw the stubborn, dried blood across his knuckles that wouldn't wash off. She saw him beating her father. Her throat felt hoarse. From screaming. Even her teeth felt sore, and there was a subtle bitter taste lingering in her mouth.

Soap.

Adaline inhaled sharply as each horrid memory fit into the puzzle inside her head, piecing together everything that had happened. Even things that she had remembered only yesterday that had happened ten years ago. Arvin's eyes blinked open, springing out of the chair once he saw Adaline awake and afraid.

He knelt by her bedside, "Adaline, you're alright now. He's not here, he ain't gonna hurt you."

"I wanna—," she croaked, needing to clear her throat before speaking again. "I wanna go home."

"Adaline..."

"I want to go home, Arvin," she told him. Maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her, showing her what she wanted to see. "I want to see him. He was drunk. He probably don't even remember what he did." Arvin obviously wanted to do anything else besides take Adaline back to her father, whose hungover self—for all he knew—may even be worse than his drunk self. But he wasn't going to keep her captive in his room. If she wanted to go home, he'd take her home.

He lightly nodded, "Okay." Arvin stood up to grab Adaline one of his jackets from the hall closet since the mornings were growing colder, and the T-shirt and pants he leant her last night were each two sizes too big for her. He came back to see her standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. He wordlessly handed her the jacket that she shrugged on overtop Arvin's clothes.

Neither of them spoke much during the short drive back to Adaline's house, but they preferred it that way. They were both not particularly talkers, and knowing that they were in each other's presence was more worthwhile to them than having to fill up the silence with words.

Arvin heard the faint sound of sirens and saw what appeared to be flashing lights through the morning fog as they drove closer to Adaline's house. A thought crossed his mind but he had to get rid of it as soon as it came (in fear that it was real).

Adaline's sat forward when the sound of the sirens grew louder and the lights became clearer, anxious to get past the fog and see what was happening.

Both of their hearts fell into their stomachs once they had a clear view of the situation—happening directly outside of Adaline's house.

Arvin parked the car a few houses down from her house, Adaline opening her door before the car had fully stopped before running over. Arvin followed her to one of the police officers writing something down on a piece of paper.

"What happened?!" Adaline cried out. "What—?!"

Sheriff Thompson held his hands out, "Ma'am, this is a crime scene, please take a step back—"

"This is my house!"

The officer glanced down at the paper and asked her, "Adaline Berkeley?"

She nodded, "Yes. My father was in there, did anythin'—" Adaline's breath hitched when she saw two men exit the front door, separated by a stretcher holding a black bag. She gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Miss. He was dead when we arrived. Blood everywhere. We'll see what the autopsy says, but we're thinkin' he hit his head on somethin'."

Arvin felt like he was going to throw up as he grabbed Adaline as she began to collapse, keeping her upright. She cried into his chest as he weakly rubbed her back, staring at the black body bag being lifted into the ambulance. The ache in his knuckles intensified.

He killed someone.

Maybe not. Maybe Desmond woke up, stumbled, hit his head because he was disoriented—because of Arvin—

"Ma'am? Do you mind telling me where you were last night?"

Adaline pulled her head back to look up at the sheriff, wiping her face while shaking her head, "I was here..." Yelling. "...but my father-" Glass shattering. "—my father's been—since my mother's death—" More yelling. "—um—"

"He's been drinkin' a whole lot,'' Arvin finished for her. "He..." Arvin glanced over at Adaline, not wanting to badmouth her deceased father right in front of her.

"And who're you, son?"

"My boyfriend," Adaline answered quickly, afraid Arvin would say something that would list him as a suspect. "I was with him the whole night." The sheriff looked between the two teenagers, obviously inferring what had happened yet he was wrong (no, they didn't sleep together—Arvin just saved her from her now-dead father choking her with a bar of soap, thank you very much, Sheriff), and jotted down something on his notepad.

"Okay...you said he's been drinkin'?"

Adaline nodded, "Yes. I—I usually help him get into bed, but last night, I—" Yelling. Glass shattering. "—I had plans—with my boyfriend. So...I wasn't home."

Thompson nodded, writing something else down, "When I came by here the other day to tell him about your mother's autopsy, he seemed a little..." he pointed his index finger towards his head and waved it around. "...but I figured he was just grievin'. I wasn't tryin' to make him more upset, but he had a right to know."

Adaline shook her head, "...know what?"

Thompson glanced up at her, "Your daddy didn't tell you?" He sighed, "Your mother was pregnant when she died." Adaline exhaled uneasily. "Your daddy didn't know about it either it seems..."

Adaline wasn't stupid. She knew her mother was pregnant, because she knew that was the reason why she had ended her life. If any of Betty's neighbors found out that she, the modern Mother Mary, was carrying an illegitimate child—Adaline could see her mother rolling over in her grave at the thought of her reputation being ruined.

"Well, the medics said it looked like a blow to the head," Thompson continued, "so we'll see what the autopsy report says, but maybe he just fell and hit his head or somethin'." He looked back up at Adaline, "Unless...y'know someone who'd do this to him?"

Adaline blinked. Arvin subtly slid his hands into his pockets as the memories of him punching Adaline's father ran through her mind.

She blinked again, "No. No one."

The sheriff nodded again before pocketing his pen and notepad, "Alright. Well, we'll need the house for a few days to finish our investigation, so...got somewhere you can stay for a little while?" Adaline nodded (no) and Thompson sympathetically patted her shoulder, "I'm very sorry for your losses." He nodded towards his car, "If you'd come with me, I can take you over to the station. We'll call for someone to pick you up."

Adaline nodded again, "Can I, uh, just have a minute?"

Thompson nodded, "Of course."

After the sheriff walked out of earshot, Adaline turned and grabbed onto Arvin's sleeve, "Can you drive me somewhere?"

He glanced over her head at the retreating sheriff, palms sweating over the thought that he already knew that the culprit was Arvin, "Adaline—"

"Please." She shook her head, "I can't—I can't—"

"Okay, okay—" Arvin looked over at Sheriff Thompson again, "—alright, um..." Thompson was talking to another officer on the scene, seemingly comparing notes. Arvin glanced down at Adaline's desperate face and a wave of guilt washed over him. How was he supposed to say no?

He killed her father. He was indebted to her.

Arvin nodded, "Alright, c'mon." He put his hand on her back as he led her back to his car, hoping to remain inconspicuous to the officers on-scene. As he opened the passenger door for Adaline, different cover-ups were reeling in his head. She needed to get her things from my house before heading over to the station. Yeah, that's it. She had lost both of her parents in a matter of days, she needed a break.

Arvin kept his head dipped down as he walked behind the car and slid into the driver's seat, cursing at the loud sound of the old engine. Arvin managed to do a three-point turn out of the neighborhood and drive back the way they came, unsure of the place Adaline had in mind but decided to keep driving until she told him to stop.

He repeatedly glanced over at her through his peripheral vision. She stared out the windshield, motionless. Silent tears ran down her face as she was trying to make sense of what had happened—well, she knew what had happened. She was there, she witnessed all of it.

But she couldn't be mad at Arvin, right? He was acting on her behalf. Who knows what her father would've done if Arvin hadn't intervened?

But at the same time, she had every right to be angry with him. He'd understand if she had never wanted to see him again, speak to him again, think of him again. Arvin figured it was a good sign that she hadn't outed him to the police and asked him to drive her away. Frankly, he could've dealt with the jail time; his most pressing concern was the girl sitting beside him.

As they neared his house, Adaline told him to continue driving until they reached the church. She didn't say this aloud, but she figured that was the only place she could talk to—or just be in the same presence as—both of her parents. Would they even want to talk to her? After all that she's done?

(even though it paled in comparison to what they had done)

Arvin pulled into the parking lot in front of the church and put the car in park, wary of whether or not Adaline would want him to join her since he was the reason she was this distraught.

He was about to ask when she opened the car door and spoke up, "Thanks, I'll...see you later then." Arvin didn't have a chance to reply before Adaline smiled in farewell before closing the car door and walking over to her mother's fresh grave.

He stayed in the lot for a while, watching Adaline stand over her mother's grave, wiping her face every so often. Arvin saw the reverend come out of the church and stand on the porch when Adaline started walking back, calling out to her. Arvin couldn't decipher their exact words but watched as the reverend began to walk Adaline to his car. Adaline looked over at Arvin's car as she got into the passenger's seat, making Arvin tense up.

Preston started driving out of the church lot and spoke to Adaline, "I heard about your folks, I am very sorry to hear that."

"Thank you."

"Such a shame, really. Y'know, in the story of the The Sower, Jesus teaches us that we are the seeds, and our paths may..." Adaline stopped listening. She just wanted to go home and deal with the police who were probably already looking for her. Only when she no longer heard the reverend's voice talking did Adaline finally register that they had passed her house.

She straightened up in her seat, "Reverend...I think we missed my street."

He half-heartedly pointed ahead of them, "I wanna show you somethin' first. Up here's a clearin', real quiet. Peaceful."

"Really, I'd just like to go home."

"It's alright, it's just up here. We don't have to stay long." Preston parked the car in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by woods. He turned off the engine and looked over at Adaline, "When my uncle passed, all I wanted to do was be alone. So I came out here, to talk to the Lord."

Adaline didn't answer, listening to the rain pelting on the roof. "You can feel Him here with us, can't you?" At her silence, Preston turned in his seat to face Adaline. "I ain't gonna force to speak, but...for me, personally, showing myself to the Lord helped tremendously."

Adaline gently shook her head, "I already prayed at my momma's grave—"

"And that's the first step," Preston interrupted, "but...to show yourself, as the Lord created you is the most cleansing thing I can recommend." Adaline looked over at him, asking herself if he was suggesting the same thing that she derived from his words. "To show yourself how God made His first children, is to truly show yourself to Him."

He suddenly grabbed her hand and began praying, "Lord, help our dear Adaline find the courage within herself to show You how You made her...and may You accept her as she shows herself to You..." Adaline hadn't made any movements, still staring at the reverend in disbelief. He opened his eyes after ending his prayer and laid Adaline's hand back on her chest.

Preston watched her, expecting her to begin stripping off pieces of clothing one by one until she was in her natural, God-given image. Adaline glanced out her side mirror to see any hint of Arvin's car, not having a chance to thoroughly look around because of the reverend's hand beginning to pull off Arvin's denim jacket from Adaline's shoulders.

She immediately flinched away from him, "What're you doin'?"

He looked offended, dryly laughing, "I'm guiding your way to the Lord." A smile was on his lips but Adaline was petrified by the look in his eyes. She felt herself shrink under his predatory gaze, unable to move as he leaned in closer. The reverend pressed his lips to her forehead, then onto both cheeks like he was forming the Sign of the Cross on her body, marking it as sacred.

His face lingered in front of hers, his heavy breaths making Adaline feel unsettlingly warm. It was like he was restricting himself from pouncing on her like an animal. He began to lean in closer again but this time, Adaline's fight or flight kicked in and she managed to use her hand to separate them, roughly pushing his face away.

Preston groaned as Adaline hurriedly opened the car door and attempted to escape. He grabbed onto her sleeve, holding her back from exiting the car until she threw herself out onto the ground, getting covered in mud and pelted with rain. Adaline turned to see Reverend about to follow her out and desperately crawled away, kicking the passenger door closed as he reached out for her.

His pained yells echoed in the car as his fingers were slammed in the door jam, allowing enough time for Adaline to get up and start running. Mud splashed each time her feet landed on the ground, decorating her backside with ricocheting splatters. Her wet hair stuck to her face as Adaline became drenched, continuing to sprint even though her chest was begging for air.

She made it off the dirt path and onto real pavement, praying for a car to show up. Adaline wanted to look over her shoulder to see if Preston was following her, but she couldn't afford to be slowed down. What if that second spent looking back gave him enough time to catch up to her? What was he going to do if he got her?

As Adaline rounded a turn, headlights beamed into her face, making her skid to a stop. She shielded her eyes from the bright light before running to the driver's side window, pounding on it for the driver to wind the window down.

The rain was too heavy for Adaline to recognize Arvin's rusted car, only noticing it was him when the window rolled down and Arvin beckoned her to get in the car, "Get in! Get in!" She ran around to the other side and got into the passenger seat, Arvin already beginning to drive away before her door was fully closed.

"What'd he do to you?" Arvin asked immediately. "He hurt you?"

Adaline was still trying to process what had happened, "No—well, he—he tried, I guess—I don't—" She shook her head and faced Arvin, "He said he was gonna drive me home, and I said I was alright but he kept insistin', so I just went along with it. Then he told me about his uncle passin', then wanted me to—"

She shook her head out of disbelief, "I think he was gonna...tryna have sex with me. But he didn't say that...he kept sayin' how I'd be baring myself to the Lord, I..."

Arvin shook his head, his iron-clad grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white, "He ain't no preacher. I've been watchin' him, Adaline." Arvin sucked in a breath, "He does this to other girls—that Reaster girl. And—and I think he did it to Lenora too." Adaline looked over, shocked. "Sheriff came to me that night, they said she was..." He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel "...that she was pregnant."

Arvin shook his head, "And haven't you noticed he ain't said any words for either of 'em?" He glanced over at Adaline, "Not Lenora, not your mama...not for people who kill themselves." Adaline looked back out the windshield, feeling in her hands and feet slowly coming back as the numbness from the adrenaline wore off.

"And I think..." Arvin began, "...I think that Knockemstiff sheriff did it to your mother, but..." He looked over at Adaline, "...I'm damn well sure that that preacher back there did it to Lenora."

Adaline noticed Arvin's grip was getting even tighter around the wheel, "...what're you gonna do?"

He swallowed roughly before glancing over at Adaline again, "What I have to." Arvin didn't clarify exactly what he would do, but as Adaline watched him, she knew he would stick to his word. He was going to do something, something he might regret, but...

Adaline would be right there with him.

⋆