Richard Laymon - The Lake

He shook his head, looked back down at his can of soda, and took a drink.

“You mean you never had a girlfriend?”

“Just never mind,” he muttered.

“Okay. Sorry.” She sipped her black cherry soda. As she tilted the can down, a cold drop fell to her breast. It trickled down. She saw Charlie look up in time to watch her brush it away. “What about your father?” she asked.

“He run off with a tramp. I was just a kid. I don’t remember him at all.”

“That’s rough,” Leigh said.

“He was no good.”

“Maybe your mother’s afraid you’ll run off with a tramp.”

“Not me.”

“That would explain why she doesn’t like you seeing girls.”

“You shouldn’t talk that way about her.”

“I’m sure she’s a fine person.”

“That’s right.”

“I just think maybe you’re missing out on a lot, that’s all. Most guys your age—What are you, nineteen or twenty?”

“Eighteen,” he said.

“Okay, eighteen. Guys your age, that’s about all they ever think about, is girls. Don’t you feel like you might be missing out on something?”

“I know what you’re up to.”

“I’m not up to anything,” she protested.

“Oh no? How come you keep talking about me and girls?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“You want me to do things to you.” There was a challenge in his eyes. Leigh felt caught. She wanted to snap out a denial. But Charlie wouldn’t believe her anyway. He knew what he knew. “It’s crossed my mind,” she admitted. “Don’t get any ideas, though. I’m not about to let you try anything with me. It’s not that I don’t like you. I’m glad we met, and I think you and I could be friends if we got to know each other better. The thing is, I’ve already got a boyfriend. He’s back in California, but I’m not the kind of person to fool around behind his back. So we could be friends, you and I, but it would have to be strictly hands off.”

“Well, how come you brought me up here, then?”

“I came up to get the money, remember?” She pressed on, confident now that he seemed to be buying her story. “Just because you had one bad experience, Charlie, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Everyone isn’t like that woman who tried to grab you. And you shouldn’t go putting all the blame on her, either. If you were looking at her the same way you’ve been looking at me, it’s no wonder she got ideas.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open.

“She probably thought you were asking for it.”

“I didn’t look at her that way.”

“Well, you’ve sure been looking at me that way.”

“She weren’t near as…” He stopped himself and scowled down at his soda can.

“Near as what, Charlie?” Leigh asked in a soft voice.

“You know.”

“Mean and ugly?”

He shook his head.

“Fat and stinky?”

He smiled, fought it away, and raised his eyes to her.

“She weren’t near as pretty,” he said.

“Probably not near as naked, either.”

The smile broke out again. This time, it stayed. His eyes still had a nervous look. “Not to start out with, anyhow.”

“Oh?”

“But what she had weren’t something I much wanted to see. It put me off my feed for a week.”

Leigh laughed.

Charlie laughed a little, himself, shaking his head. “I seen better-looking tits on a road apple. And she had a hind end…” He stopped. His face was suddenly solemn. “I beg your pardon,” he said.

“You don’t have to beg my pardon.”

“I gotta go now.” He gulped down the rest of his soda, put on his strange hat, and stood up. “Thank you for the drink.”

Leigh nudged herself away from the door frame and stood up straight as he came toward her. “I’m glad you came up here, Charlie. It’s been nice talking with you.” He gave the empty can to her, pulling his hand away quickly as if afraid of being touched. Leigh set both cans on a wicker table. She caught the screen door as it swung shut. “Hold up, okay? I’m going back down.”

He waited for Leigh to join him.

“So you’ll be selling baskets the rest of the day?” she asked as they stared down the slope.

“Yeah. I’ll make a stop at Carson’s and then head on away.”

“Do you go to all the lakes in one day?”

“I guess I’ll just get over to Circle today. It’s a full day trip, making Goon and Willow.”

“So they’re on tomorrow’s agenda? How would you like a helper?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve never been to those other lakes.”

“You can’t come.”

They reached the sand, and Charlie took long, quick strides as if wanting to leave her behind. Leigh quickened her pace. “What are you scared of?”

“I ain’t scared.”

“You just don’t want me with you. That’s real nice. It really makes me feel good.”

At the boat, he faced her. “It’s nothing against you.”

“Oh, sure.”

“It just wouldn’t be right.”

“What would be wrong with it? Oh.” Nodding, she pointed at the heart tattoo on his chest. “Your mother wouldn’t approve,” she said softly. Her fingertip touched the tattoo. Charlie flinched but didn’t move away. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your mother.”

She put her open hand on his chest, feeling his smooth skin, his quick heartbeat. Sliding it down over the firm slab of his pectoral, she felt his nipple stiff under her palm. “Maybe you’ll come around again sometime,” she said, and took her hand away. She was trembling. “Maybe I’ll buy another basket.”

“I gotta get going.”

Leigh stood on the warm sand until Charlie had pushed off his boat. Then she walked onto the pier and watched him row past.

She raised a hand in farewell.

Charlie looked at her as he worked the oars, but he said nothing.

FOURTEEN

His boat was beached at Carson’s Camp. Leigh had watched him unload baskets and carry them up the slope.

She could go over there.

But she didn’t want to spook him.

God knows, she had already pushed matters as far as she dared. She’d probably scared him away for good.

Looking back on it, she was shocked by the way she had acted, the way she had felt. What was wrong with her? Never in her life had she come so close to throwing herself at a man.

It might be best, she told herself, if I don’t ever see him again.

Forget about him.

She turned her lounge chair to face Carson’s Camp. Lying back, she rubbed herself with suntan oil, but it was Charlie’s hands spreading the slick fluid over her skin.

After a while, Charlie returned to the boat. He loaded some baskets inside, took out two of the picnic baskets, and hurried back up the slope. Later, he returned empty-handed.

Leigh was glad he’d made sales.

He pushed off his boat.

She thought of the canoe.

Follow him.

No.

Just leave him alone. Forget about him.

All day, she thought about him. That night, in bed, she stared at the ceiling and wondered about tomorrow. She knew where he would be: at Goon and Willow. She had found out from Mike where the channel was. She could intercept Charlie, if she dared. She trembled, thinking about it.

I won’t go over there, she told herself.

You want to bet?

She pictured him gleaming in the sunlight, strong and sleek, the jeans low on his hips.

Fancy meeting you here, Charlie.

He would know, of course, that it was not an accident.

Get out of here and leave me alone.

No, he wouldn’t say that. He would sneak glances at her body. He wanted her, but he was scared.

Stop this, Leigh thought.

Restless, she threw her sheet aside. The breeze from the window cooled her damp nightgown. It smelled wonderful. It felt wonderful. Sitting up, she looked toward the moonlit window. She heard birds and crickets chirping in the night.

Why not go outside and enjoy it, she thought. You’re not going to fall asleep anyway.

She stood up slowly, listening to the quiet squeak of the bedsprings, and crept to her door. Her heart thudded wildly as she eased the door open.

What are you jumpy for? You don’t have to sneak out. Mike and Jenny wouldn’t care.

It’s not them, she realized. It’s this. It’s going out alone, at this hour, in your nightgown.

She wasn’t afraid, she was excited.

It’s no big deal.

Then how come you’re shaking like a leaf?

Except for creamy moonlight from the windows, the cabin was dark. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms, then walked silently to the front door. She inched it open and squeezed through the gap, her breath snagging as the edge of the door rubbed her stiff right nipple. Trembling, she pulled the door shut.

The porch floor was cool and smooth under her bare feet. The screen door groaned, but the noise didn’t worry her. She stepped down the wooden stairs.

You’re out. You made it.

When her feet touched the ground, she stopped. She took a deep breath. A lightning bug drifted by, glowing and fading. Closing her eyes, she let herself feel the breeze. It stirred her hair, blew softly against her face, stroked her arms and legs, moved the nightgown against her skin. Its touch was subtle and erotic.

Her legs felt weak as she walked down the steep path to the lake. At the pier, she looked both ways. She saw no one along the shore. Water lapped and sloshed quietly around the pilings. To the right, the moon made a silver path over the lake.

She walked to the end of the pier. The breeze was stronger here. It fluttered her nightgown and slipped beneath it—lover’s hands, gentle, exploring with tentative, intimate caresses.

Leigh wanted to take the nightgown off, to stand naked in the moonlight and feel the breeze all over her.

Not here, at the end of the pier. Someone might be watching.

From over the water came a quiet groan.

It didn’t sound human.

Metallic, almost like an oarlock.

The sound startled Leigh out of her dreamy languor. She stiffened. Her eyes searched the darkness.

The boat was a vague blur on the lake’s black surface. In the center sat an upright shape. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it at once; the boat was directly ahead, no more than fifty feet beyond the end of the pier.

It went nowhere.

Charlie?

She almost spoke his name, but stopped herself. What if it’s not Charlie?

It might be anyone.

The man from Jody’s.

She felt her skin prickle.

Don’t be silly.

It might be someone night-fishing.

She couldn’t see a pole.

It is Charlie. It has to be.

This is too weird, she thought. Spooky weird.

What’s he doing here?

“Charlie?” she asked. She didn’t raise her voice. In the silence, it wasn’t necessary. She knew the name would carry out to him.

The oarlocks groaned, more loudly this time. She heard the soft swoosh of the blades rising out of the water. The dim silhouette leaned forward and back, beginning to row. The boat turned.

He’s coming for me.

Oh dear God.

Leigh’s heart felt as if it might smash through her rib cage.

This isn’t happening. It’s a dream. A very weird dream. You’re going to wake up any second.

She knew she was not dreaming.

She locked her knees to keep herself upright.

Calm down, she thought. You wanted something like this. Well, it’s happening.

She was a little frightened, but excited. She couldn’t stop trembling.

Then she realized that the boat wasn’t moving closer. It was heading away.