Richard Laymon - The Lake

Charlie had lost his nerve.

He’d been drawn here, late at night when she would be sleeping, only to stare at the cabin, to…what, fantasize?

Calling out to him would do no good.

Leigh dove, leaping from the edge of the pier and stretching out, hitting the water and slicing down beneath its surface. The first shock of cold made her flinch. Then the rush of water felt good. She arched upward and broke the surface. Taking a breath, she blinked her eyes clear and spotted the distant shape of the boat. She swam for it.

She knew Charlie must have seen her dive. Rowing away, he would be facing her. He had to see. But would he stop, or row all the harder hoping to get away?

Leigh was a strong, swift swimmer. In a canoe, Charlie would be able to leave her behind, but rowboats were heavy and ungainly. She was sure she could catch up to him, no matter how hard he might row.

She kicked steadily, darting out one arm then the other with smooth, easy strokes, turning her head for a breath on every sixth stroke.

He probably thinks I’m crazy, she thought.

I must be crazy.

I could’ve taken the canoe.

This is better.

A corner of Leigh’s mind, which seemed to be observing her from a distance, was admiring her nerve. And was a little amused. You’ve really gone and done it.

She raised her head.

The boat was broadside to her, not far ahead. So Charlie was no longer trying to get away.

Good for him.

He wasn’t wearing his odd, feathered hat.

She lowered her face into the water and kept on swimming.

What if it’s not Charlie?

She considered taking another look. That wouldn’t solve anything, though. Too dark.

It better be him.

What if it’s not?

She went tight and cold inside.

She told herself not to worry. It had to be Charlie.

But she was very close to the boat, getting closer with every stroke. She saw herself grab the gunnel and pull herself up. A face above her. A stranger’s face. A woman’s. Charlie’s mother. Her hand clutched Leigh’s wrist. Now I gotcha!

It was a crazy thought, but she couldn’t get rid of it. She stopped. Treading water, she wiped her eyes.

The boat was two yards away.

The man in its center had Charlie’s shape, but the face, a dim blur, could have belonged to anyone.

“Charlie?” she asked.

“Might as well grab an oar,” he said. The hushed voice was Charlie’s. He didn’t sound overjoyed.

Leigh kicked closer, caught hold of the slippery oar blade, and pulled herself along its shaft. Then she clutched the gunnel with both hands. “Thanks for stopping.”

“What am I gonna do, let you drown?”

“I wouldn’t have drowned.”

“Well, you gonna climb in, or what?”

“I haven’t decided.” She thought about her nightgown. Wet, it would be transparent. “What were you doing out here, Charlie?”

“Nothing.”

The boat was empty except for an anchor on the deck near the bow. “Not selling baskets, I see.”

“I just come out for some fresh air. Too hot in the cabin.”

“You rowed all the way over here for some fresh air?”

“Think I come by to spy on you?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you’re full of it.”

“It’s all right, Charlie. I don’t mind. I was thinking about you, too. That’s why I couldn’t sleep and came down to the lake. I missed you. I was afraid we wouldn’t see each other again.”

“How come you were thinking about me, and not that boyfriend of yours?”

“There isn’t any boyfriend. I just made him up. Comin’ aboard,” she said.

Charlie scooted away to balance the boat, and Leigh thrust herself up. Bracing herself on stiff arms, she waited for the boat to stop its wild rocking. Then she swung a leg over the side and tumbled in. She landed on her back, grunting with the impact. Her knees were in the air, parted, so she quickly rolled to her side.

“Hurt yourself?” Charlie asked.

“I’ll live.” She ran a hand down her rump and leg. The clinging fabric didn’t end until just above her knee. She sat up, then scuttled backward to the edge of the stern seat. She boosted herself onto it. “Graceful entrance, huh?”

Charlie moved to the center of his seat and caught the handle of the oar he’d left dangling. He lowered both handles to his thighs. The oars jutted out like strange, uptilted wings.

Shivering with cold and excitement, Leigh looked down at herself. As she’d expected, the nightgown was glued to her skin and she could see right through it. She folded her arms tightly across her breasts. She hunched over. “You wouldn’t have a towel?”

“You can have my shirt,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He shipped the oars, swinging them toward Leigh and inward, resting their paddles on the sides of her seat. Then he took off his shirt and tossed it to her.

Leigh draped his shirt across the seat beside her. “Shut your eyes,” she said.

“What for?”

“Because I’d like you to.”

“Okay.”

“They shut?”

He nodded.

Leigh couldn’t see whether they were shut. Half expecting him to peek, half wanting him to, she raised herself off the seat and peeled the nightgown over her head.

She wadded it into a tight club and wrung it out into the lake. She set it aside and lowered her gaze. Her skin looked dusky where she was tanned. Her breasts were pale, her jutting nipples almost black in the darkness. Taking a deep, tremulous breath, she picked up Charlie’s shirt and put it on. It clung to her damp skin but took away the cold. She fastened the two lower buttons and arranged the hanging front to cover her lap.

Even with the shirt on, she felt naked. It was the painted plank seat, wet and slick against her buttocks.

“Okay,” she said. “You can open your eyes.” Charlie nodded.

“You didn’t peek, did you?”

“No.” He fidgeted a bit. “You asked me not to.”

“Well, good. Thanks for the shirt. It feels good. I was freezing. Are you cold without it?”

“No. I’m not wet.”

“How long have you been out here?”

He shrugged a bare shoulder. “Not real long.”

“Does your mother know?”

“She was sleeping.”

“What if she wakes up and finds you gone?”

“Well, I guess she’ll whale on me pretty good when I get back.”

“But you came anyway.”

“I didn’t…I just got in the boat and ended up here. I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened.”

“I’m glad.”

“You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Take me someplace, Charlie.”

He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “I oughta take you back to your pier.”

“You won’t, will you?”

Shaking his head, he raised the oars over the sides and lowered them into the water. He held one oar motionless under the surface and stroked with the other until the bow swung around to the opposite direction, then rowed northward. The boat swept along, oarlocks squawking, blades making quiet slurps as they came out. They left straight trails of droplets on the surface until they dipped in again. They stroked back smoothly, silently.

Leigh watched Charlie. He sat with his back arched, legs stretched out, his bare heels planted against the ribs along the inside of the hull. Leaning forward with his arms stiff, he slipped the paddles in. Then he eased back, drawing them through the water, coming forward again as they broke the surface, letting the boat glide as he brought the oar handles toward his belly in a graceful circular motion before extending his arms again and bending far forward to start over.

“You’re very good at this,” Leigh said.

“Thank you.”

She stretched out her legs until her feet met Charlie’s. He kept rowing. He didn’t try to move his feet away.

“It’s beautiful out here at night,” she said. “So peaceful. Have you always lived here?”

“Yeah.”

“It must be nice.”

“Sure. It’s okay.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

“I had a twin, but it was born dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, it don’t bother me. I never knew it, so it weren’t like a loved one going toes up on you.” He rowed a few strokes in silence. “Would’ve been queer, having a brother around that looked the same as me.”

“I know some twins. They pretend to be each other. They’ve put over some good ones.”

“It’s in the lake.”

“What?” Leigh asked, uncertain what Charlie meant.

“My old man, he took it out on the lake and tossed it in with an anchor. Guess it’s still down there.”

Leigh frowned, trying to make sense of what Charlie had said. Suddenly, she realized that “it” was his stillborn twin. Charlie’s father had weighted the body with an anchor and left it in the lake.

She’d been swimming in the lake…

There wouldn’t be much of it left by now, she told herself. That was what, eighteen years ago?

A dead baby down there.

Its bones, anyway.

The lake’s dark water with its silver-moon trail didn’t look quite as tranquil and beautiful as it had a few minutes ago.

“Funny to think about it down there,” Charlie said.

Hilarious.

“You know how sometimes a fish’ll jump and you look real quick but you don’t see it? There’s just the ripples moving around? Well, when I was a kid and that used to happen, I’d think it was ‘it’ coming up.”

“Jesus,” Leigh muttered.

“Didn’t scare me. I just kept looking quick, hoping I’d get a peek at it. I was mostly curious, is all. One time, I jumped in.” He shook his head. Leigh saw the white of his teeth. Was he smiling? “Had it in mind I might dive down and grab the body, get a good look at it.”

Leigh didn’t want to hear any more. “How far’s the high school?” she asked.

“Oh, twenty miles.”

“How do you get there? Do they have a bus?”

“I never gone.”

“You never went to school?” She wasn’t very surprised.

“What do I need school for? Mom teaches me all I need to know.”

“Your mom’s a teacher?

“She was, a long time ago.”

“Well, you’d meet people.”

“Don’t have much use for ’em.”

“You’d meet girls.”

“You gonna start on me about girls again?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Well, I don’t see no point. You’re a girl. You’re here. What’s the point talking about girls I don’t even know?”

“None, I guess.”

“I never seen one, anyhow, as pretty as you.”

“Oh, I bet you have.”

“Nope. And I see plenty of ’em, too, going around the lakes hawking the baskets. None of ’em are as nice, either. Mostly, they act funny like they’re scared of me.”

“Why would they be scared?”

For a few moments, he didn’t answer. He drew back, the oars and leaned forward again. “ ’Cause I’m not the same as them, I guess. Is that why? You’re scared of me, too, so I guess you must know how come.”

“I am not.”

“Sure. Only difference is, you don’t let it stop you.”

“If I were afraid of you, I wouldn’t be out here in your boat in the middle of the night.”

“That so?”

“Yes, that’s so. I’m no idiot.”

“You’re scared, but you’re not scared off. Maybe you got a streak of daredevil in you.”

“I’ve sure got a streak of some thing, Charlie. And you’re the one who gave it to me.” She drew in her feet. “Move over,” she said. Staying low, she made her way to the center seat, raised the oar handle out of her way, and sat down beside him. “Let’s make this baby fly,” she said, and started to row.