Though they happened so quickly as to become jumbled in order, Sissy was aware of some number of pistol shots, one loud bang, a dull ache on the side of her head, and a stinging pain on her neck. All of this preceeded in rapid succession being jerked violently backward.

Something wooden cracked. A gurgling croak erupted from behind her. The river splashed joyfully to accept them. The night became suddenly darker, more stifling.

Frankly, she was a little disappointed. By all evidences she could ascertain, her life should have been flashing before her eyes. Instead all she could see was Joanie’s ghost-like apparition in the doorway of her until-recently, much-adored teacher.

Still, the water was warm and welcoming. Nothing else mattered. Indeed, the dark, wet oblivion seemed a pleasant alternative to the swirl of fear, guilt, and confusion she’d been suffering through on the dock. Wrapped in the river’s embrace, Sissy was content to drift away, perhaps to sleep in her would-be lover’s arms.