The Secrets of Lake Road

No one on the beach approached Sara’s mother to comfort her or show their support. Perhaps they believed if they got too close, the tragedy would somehow feel more real or that it would somehow become contagious. It was as though an invisible force field surrounded the woman, pushing them away. After all, she was a newcomer to the lake and therefore not one of them.

People liked to believe they were immune to tragic accidents. This sort of thing happened to those who weren’t paying attention, who were careless, who didn’t take the signs posted along the fence seriously—SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK.

The fishermen continued tossing grappling hooks and dragging the bottom where the snappers were congregating, feasting. Minutes passed. The waiting was excruciating, more than Jo could bear. She had to warn Sara’s mother, prepare her for what she might see when they brought her little girl to shore. It had to be her because there was no one else.

“I’m going to talk with her,” she said to Kevin, and slowly made her way across the beach to the lone woman standing at the water’s edge.

Kevin called for Jo to come back, but she knew he wouldn’t chase after her. He stopped chasing after her a long time ago.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The ballpark was the place to be after dinner since the Pavilion remained closed. Clusters of kids and their parents organized an impromptu baseball game. Most everyone’s mother came to watch, setting up beach chairs along the first and third baselines. It was, after all, a recreational field for the lake community and not a regulation ballpark where bleachers might have been erected. Families brought their own bats and balls and mitts. The Needlemeyer twins brought the bases.

Megan sat next to her mother, close to one of the dugouts. Side by side you could see the resemblance between the two. Both wore their blond hair parted straight down the middle. Their skin was pink from the sun. Their eyelids were covered in the same blue eye shadow that made Caroline cringe. Their nails were painted pink. Mr. Roberts’s dark complexion and hairy arms were a sharp contrast in comparison. He stepped forward. “I’ll be the umpire.”

Some of the other fathers took up positions as first-and third-base coaches. Johnny was made captain of one of the teams, and Chris the other. Johnny played baseball for the varsity team in high school back home, although he rarely talked about the game or bragged about how good he was with lake friends. “It isn’t cool,” he said to Caroline once when she asked him why.

In ways it was true what he had said. It wasn’t cool. Home was home, and when they were at the lake for a few weeks every summer, well, the lake was the lake, and you didn’t mix the two. It was as though they were a part of two separate worlds, straddling a bridge between their school and their lake friends, neither of which were meant to be crossed.

She liked to think she was standing on sacred ground at the lake, where the outside world—in her case, school and home—weren’t welcome. Cell phones were shoved in back pockets and forgotten. Video games and the Internet were no longer distractions. “It’s how it should be,” Gram said. “You kids are doing what you’re supposed to be doing—playing outside face-to-face with other kids.”

But Johnny was a good ballplayer, better than good, whether he was home or at the lake. There had been talk of possible scholarships to colleges if he was interested. Caroline didn’t know how he felt about it one way or the other. They didn’t talk about things in their family, even good things, accolades, and achievements. Everything in her family was one big secret.

“Caroline, you’re at third,” Johnny said.

A couple of the older boys protested when Johnny handpicked Caroline to play. “She’s a girl,” they said. “Girls can’t play baseball.”

Johnny looked at her. “You okay with hardball?”

She nodded and adjusted the cap on her head. She was good enough to play baseball with the boys. She knew it, but she was surprised her brother thought so too.

“She can handle it,” Johnny said to the other boys. His faith in her ability overwhelmed her. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad for a brother.

They were short a few players. “I’ll pitch for both teams,” the Needlemeyer’s father said. Mr. Roberts volunteered to be both umpire and catcher. Yes, there was a potential conflict with a play at home plate, but there was a level of trust between the kids and their parents that the game would be played fairly.

There was one boy, Jeff, who Caroline didn’t know. His family had arrived at the lake for the first time that morning. Johnny picked him to be on their team. “Can you play both center and right field?” he asked.

“I can.” Jeff was tall, and his long legs could cover a lot of ground. He looked to be around the same age as Caroline.