Hands grabbed my arms. Carl. I was soggy paper. He pulled me over the edge of the rowboat. My T-shirt slipped off, splatted when he threw it. I collapsed onto the bottom of the boat. A hammer banged inside my head. I felt pounding on my back. Then I was rolling over. Weights clamping down on my ribs. I hacked. And gasped. And retched. Hot watery vomit gushing from my mouth, my nose, until my ribs and skull were close to exploding. What was he going to do to me? What? Then there was blackness.

“Stan. It was Stanley!”

Carl was yelling. I opened my eyes. Wet wood against my mouth, against my chest. I was shaking. I closed my eyes again.

“Dot is so angry. We had a verbal, and I broke it. I broke the law we made. Urh. Just stop arguing. Just stop!”

A gentle bump against something solid. My body lurched.

“We’re back,” he said.

I clawed out. Crumpled on the darkened dock. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t run away. I wheezed, and stabs of pain came with each cough. I touched the side of my head. Found a massive lump, the middle split open. Warm oozed behind my ear, pooled underneath my cheek. I dragged my fingers through it, brought them to my nose. Smelled metal from the sticky blackness.

Shuffling on the dock. Carl was coming. Stan was coming. They were coming to kill me. Fear stopped my breath. I tried to stand but dizziness knocked me to my knees. More vomit shot into my mouth. I spat it out.

“Stop,” I said. I lifted a hand toward him, but I fell backward. “Please. Don’t.” I was moving, but staying still. I worked my fingers between two boards of wood and held on. Darkness slid over me.

When I opened my eyes, he was standing nearby. A blanket and clothes in his arms. He dropped the clothes, then opened the blanket. I sat up and pain shot through my skull. He covered my shoulders. He dug inside his coat. I felt his bandaged fingers poking at my mouth. I gagged. “It will help,” he said. Then two small stones sat on my tongue. He had a bottle in his hand. Twisted the cap, held it out to me. The smell of apples.

“Drink this.”

I lifted my face, took a sip, swallowed the pills. Whatever they were. I didn’t care. My throat burned.

“Drink more.”

“Can’t more. Hurts.”

“I know, I know, I know. Urh. You need to go. I know. Dot says it. I don’t trust myself. I don’t.” He was crying. I looked at him. Blinked. He kept licking his lips. “Stan,” he said. “It was Stanley. He just pushes me and pushes me. Until I can’t stop. He’s gone, but I don’t know when he’s coming back.”

Carl wasn’t going to kill me. Not right now.