The Secrets of Lake Road

Kevin walked beside Johnny. The sun broke through the storm clouds. The rain slowed to a drizzle. There must have been a rainbow somewhere, but the trees in the colony were as big as giants and centuries old, blocking much of the view of the sky except for the occasional glimpses between branches.

Johnny stuffed his hands into his pockets. His hair covered his face. It was hard for Kevin to read his expression, but he could sense the boy’s angst. The silence between them felt strained and uncomfortable. Kevin was sorry for it, knowing he was partly to blame. He had no idea how to cross the invisible divide that kept Johnny separate from him, or even if he wanted to.

“Maybe she’s at the ballpark,” Kevin said, knowing how much Caroline loved to play ball. Why she would be in the park in the rain he couldn’t say. But the kids often hung out in the dugouts for the lack of anything better to do. It’s what he might’ve done at her age.

He continued. “You know you’re a pretty good ballplayer. Good enough to get a baseball scholarship if you wanted to go to college.”

“Really?” Johnny said in his cocky voice. “We’re going to talk about this now?”

“Do you have something else you’d rather talk about?”

Johnny sighed. “No.”

Kevin lit a cigarette. Life would be easier if Johnny went to college and moved away. It was a selfish thought, but one he had often and believed to be true. He wondered if maybe it would give his marriage a fresh start, a new beginning, or as the kids say a “do-over.”

He had rarely been alone with Johnny when he had been a toddler running around the backyard with his baseball bat, let alone the teenager he had become, the man he would be. Kevin had spent a lifetime on the road in his rig. It had been easier to stay away than deal with the tension at home, the guilt he felt whenever he looked at Jo and Johnny, the mother and son who were getting along fine without him. He admitted it was what he wanted. A part of him was afraid of Johnny. Hell, Kevin was just a kid himself when Johnny was born.

“This summer sucks,” Johnny mumbled.

Kevin glanced at him. “They’ll find the little girl and things will go back to normal. You’ll see. Heil will make sure of it.”

“Well, it sure is taking a long time.” Johnny sounded annoyed and maybe he heard it in his own voice because he added, “I don’t mean to sound cruel. I feel real bad about what happened. She was just a kid, you know? But why are they dragging it out? Why can’t they find her?”

“It’s a natural lake. It’s deep.” Kevin pulled in a long drag and exhaled slowly. “The lake community can’t afford to bring in outsiders to help. Or they won’t. It draws too much attention. The recovery team is the only one in the county. And there’s a lot of lake to cover.”

They stopped at the edge of the ballpark.

Johnny raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head. “I guess.” He stretched, twisting left and right, cracking his spine. “But it all sounds like bullshit to me,” he said.

Kevin smelled something funny coming from Johnny’s hair and skin. It wasn’t cigarette smoke, but it was familiar. When Johnny lowered his arms, Kevin smelled it again a little stronger this time and recognized the scent of marijuana. He shouldn’t be surprised and in fact, he wasn’t. How could he fault the boy when he had smoked the stuff at the same age?

*

Eddie had rolled the first joint inside the dugout right there at the ballpark. Kevin had been strumming his guitar. He had taken the guitar with him almost everywhere he went that summer for the sole purpose of gaining Jo’s attention. The others were sprawled on the benches, smoking cigarettes and eventually the poorly rolled joint.

“None for me,” Kevin said when Eddie passed it to him. “It messes with my voice.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Billy asked, zeroing in on Kevin, giving him that undivided attention everyone in the group coveted.

“Maybe it is,” Kevin said, thinking it must be nice to have everyone want your attention. He glanced at Jo. She was staring into the open field. He put the guitar down and took a hit. Billy directed his attention to Eddie, and the two became engrossed in some discussion over what Kevin could no longer remember. Sheila sat in Eddie’s lap and joined the conversation.

At one point Jo had gotten up and walked away. Kevin watched her walk past the pitcher’s mound and onto centerfield, where she lay down. Darkness enveloped her. He could barely make out her shape on the ground.

Maybe it was the weed or the beer, but Kevin felt brave enough to leave the dugout and join her. The others were distracted and no one mentioned his absence. He lay down next to her in the damp grass and stared up at the night sky. The brush of her arm against his forearm sent his pulse racing.

“Have you ever seen so many stars?” she asked in that stoned way of talking. “They’re so far away and I don’t know, otherworldly.”

“Yes, one could say that about space.”

She nudged his arm. “You know what I mean.”