The Secrets of Lake Road

“Shhh,” Dee Dee said.

There was no telling what Dee Dee heard, but Jo listened anyway, believing it had to be something because Dee Dee always had these crazy animallike senses. She’d turn up wherever Jo and Billy were, appearing suddenly whenever they were fooling around no matter how quiet they whispered into each other’s ears, tugged at each other’s clothes, moaned into each other’s shoulders. It was as though she could not only hear their bodies coming together, but also smell their pheromones.

And one time when they were lying on the dock, Billy’s face buried in her chest, she spied Dee Dee watching them from the doorway of Hawkes’ cabin, the little girl she babysat every summer clinging to Dee Dee’s leg. She had glared at Dee Dee over the top of Billy’s head. In a way she had been challenging her, daring her to try and come between them.

But all Jo heard tonight was the buzz of crickets, the water lapping against the bank near their feet.

“The water. The lake. It flows through our veins, and there’s nothing we can do about it,” Dee Dee said. “We can’t stop it. It’s like venom.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Jo tried again to pull her arm free, but there was no way she could out-muscle her. Dee Dee was tall and strong and angry.

Dee Dee moved in close. Her breath reeked of beer. “It runs through our veins. Our family. Our kids. It gets inside you, and it’s so goddamn beautiful, you can’t help but drink it up.”

“Yes,” Jo said, wanting to sound agreeable if only Dee Dee would let her go. “It can be irresistible.”

“It was for my brother. I wish he would’ve stayed the hell away from you.”

Dee Dee was no longer talking about the lake; rather, she was referring to Jo, blaming her for what had happened to him.

“Did you hear they found his bones?” Dee Dee continued, squeezing Jo’s bicep.

“So it’s true? They’re Billy’s?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, they are. And I should have a report soon to prove it.”

“Right,” Jo said, thinking out loud. “The sheriff would’ve had to send them to a lab or something.”

“That’s right.” Dee Dee moved in closer, her sour breath warm on Jo’s face. “Do you want to tell me what they’ll find now? Or later?”

“Nothing. How should I know? It was ruled an accident.” Her upper arm was stinging, her lower arm nearly numb.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Dee Dee said. “And you know it.” She shoved Jo and stumbled. Jo caught her. Somehow their arms and legs entwined. They took an awkward step backward and sideways as though they were stepping to some kind of strange dance. It took all Jo’s strength to keep from falling, or maybe it was Dee Dee’s sturdy body that kept them off the ground. It happened so quickly, Jo couldn’t be sure. But once they found their footing, they couldn’t get away from each other fast enough. They broke apart and stared at each other. A moment of silence stretched between them.

Finally Dee Dee said, “You were his girlfriend. He trusted you.”

I know he did! Jo wanted to scream.





CHAPTER TEN

Caroline woke with her sheets damp and sticky. Already the day felt warm and muggy, but it was the dreams of Sara that had kept her tossing and turning through the night, making her break out in a cold sweat. Her mouth was dry, her throat sore. She remembered yelling in the last dream, screaming really, for Sara to swim faster lest the snappers in the water drag her down. In the real world, snappers didn’t behave as predators, but rather more like scavengers, eating what was dead at the bottom of the lake. In dreamland, of course, rules of nature were broken and all bets were off.

She threw back the covers and shuffled into the kitchen in her pajamas in search of a cool drink. Her mother was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. Her eyes were cast down, but she looked up when Caroline opened the refrigerator door and removed the jug of water that had been pumped from the well. Lake water.

“Don’t drink that,” her mother said, and grabbed the jug from Caroline’s hands.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

“Just drink something else for once, will you?” Her mother stood and poured the lake water down the drain in the kitchen sink.

“Why?” Her mother was acting as though Caroline wanted to drink poison.

“Have some milk or orange juice,” her mother said.

She yanked open the refrigerator door for the second time and pulled out the pitcher of juice. Sometimes it felt as though everything she did annoyed her mother, including her choice of beverage.

She poured a glass of OJ and sank onto the bench at the table. Her mother picked up her coffee and rather than sit next to Caroline, she stood at the sink with it.