“They were wrong,” David whispered.
“About what?” Edi asked.
“Your legs. They have to be four feet long.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never measured them. Would you tie the rope around me?”
“Yes,” he said, but he took his time, looking at every inch of her while he slowly walked toward her.
He put the rope around her waist, tied the end to the side of the bridge, then nodded toward the other rope in the back of the buggy. “What’s that for?”
“If there’s anything still in the car, I’m going to get it out.”
“Meaning your suitcase?”
“Yes, my own clothes,” she said, as she glanced down at the big trousers he wore. “Did you bring anything that would fit without the brace?”
“Yes, but I don’t want you to bother with getting it. If you can find the Allen wrench, fine, if not, then nothing else is important. You understand me?”
“You’re going to make a great father,” she said, “but I already have one. I think if the car is hidden, then the water is deep enough for a dive, don’t you?”
“No!” David half shouted. “We’ll go to the edge and you can walk in. You don’t know—” He broke off because she climbed onto the railing and did a perfect swan dive into the river. He held his breath as he waited for her to come up and every terror went through his head. Had she hit bottom? Was she unconscious? He was halfway over the railing when she came up.
“It’s cold!” she said.
“What did you think it would be? Tropical?” he said, doing his best to hide his fear. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. It feels great. I’m going to wash my hair. Throw me that soap off the seat, will you?”
“Soap!” he said, mumbling. He just wanted her to get this done and get out of there. With his leg held stiffly, he half ran, half hobbled to the buggy and got a bar of soap off the seat, then tossed it to her. “Good catch,” he said.
“I was the best batter on my school baseball team,” she said. “I could hit the ball just ten feet and still outrun them all.” She was soaping her hair while treading water. Turning, she looked at the car, then swam to it and climbed on top.
“Look at me,” she yelled.
“Yeah, look at you.” She had on a clinging teddy that was wet and transparent, and she was standing on top of an upside-down car that couldn’t be seen above the water. She looked like she was standing on the water. “My kingdom for a camera,” he whispered, but he had none.
“Be careful on that thing,” he called. “The bottom of a car isn’t as smooth as a mattress.”
She kept rubbing her hair with the soap, then threw the bar back to him. To his shame, he missed it and had to chase it across the bridge. When he looked back, she was gone, and for a moment his heart seemed to stop beating.
He waited what seemed to be minutes but there was no sign of her. He gave a tug on the rope, but she didn’t tug back, and she hadn’t released it. “I knew this was a bad idea,” he said. “I knew it. I should have stopped her. I should have forced her to—”
“To what?” she said and she was below him, her hand on a pillar of the bridge.
“Forced you not to do this.”
“I’d like to have seen you try,” she said in a suggestive way. “Can you reach my hand?”
David got down on his stomach and reached down until he touched her hand—and she passed him the Allen wrench. He clasped it tightly, then rolled onto his back and for a moment held it to his chest. Such a little thing, but so very important.
“I got it,” he said, “so now you can come up.” But when he looked, she was already gone. With lightning speed, David unbuckled his trousers and pushed them off, then he gave one last look of hatred to the steel brace and began loosening screws. For the sake of comfort, all the screws were recessed so the protruding heads wouldn’t chafe a person’s skin, but that made it necessary to use an unusual tool to remove the cage.
Half of the screws were too tight from water and rust, and one of them broke as he twisted. But with David’s determination and just plain anger—not to mention the desire he had for Miss Edilean Harcourt—he kept working.
He broke blisters and made some new cuts as he wrenched the thing off his leg, but he managed to tear it away from his skin, then he threw it toward the far end of the bridge.
When he was free of it, he had trouble standing, but he made it. He had to bend his knee half a dozen times before it began working again. His leg was a mess, with blisters and bloody patches and bits of cloth stuck to raw places, but to him it looked great. “I’m out of it,” he yelled as he looked back at the river, but Edi didn’t answer him.