Lake Redstone

by Hollyfield, J. D.

  I wish I had a close group of friends. A gang. A tribe of sorts. I consider my bandmates friends, but we don’t have inside jokes or know each other’s favorite restaurant, allergies, or any childhood memories kind of cheesy shit. I have my favorite bartender, Judith, but she’s not one I can sit down and have a beer with and share all my thoughts and aspirations. This group? They have that. I see it in the way they all laugh with one another.

  “Lucky?”

  “Yeah, Case. Lucky.” I set her down. I wish I would have shut my mouth because her goofy smile turns down. Great. Now she feels pity for me. “And I’m glad for you, ’cause my awesome group of friends are the same—”

  “You two watching this?”

  Jason breaks into my lie, and we both bring our eyes to the photoshoot. Mick is sprawled on a rock, throwing his head back as the water splashes against his chest. The photographer is cheering him on.

  “That’s it. Feel the sun on your chest. Let the water seduce you. That’s it. Chin to the gods feasting down at your beauty. Fantastic!”

  Everyone stares.

  My mouth drops open.

  Jason’s brows shoot up.

  Katie, June, and Casey become speechless.

  Poppy stares in appreciation at her man.

  “How…have…we…never come to one of these before!” Jason says, keeling over in a fit of laughter. After a few seconds pass, everyone else joins in an eruption of laughter. The photographer snaps a billion photos a second while Mick flips himself onto his stomach, resembling a mermaid on an abandoned rock.

  “That’s it! Show the rock who’s boss. Be one with the water—yes! Flip that hair, gorgeous. Flex—yes, flex! Beautiful!”

  We’re all transfixed to the sight when an assistant dressed in zoo gear wades through the water, holding a—

  “Dude, no way! That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Jerry asks.

  “Is that a—?”

  “Snake? No way. No amount of money and fame is worth that thing on me,” Casey says, shivering in my hold.

  “Oh hell no,” Jason says and we all watch in horror as the zookeeper starts wrapping the huge snake around Mick’s neck. The lights start flashing, and the photographer goes berserk. I swear, he’s about to blow a load at how excited he is snapping each pose.

  We all fall silent and watch the shoot play out.

  Until it goes to shit.

  Mick slips on the slick rock, and the snake slides off his neck, disappearing into the water.

  Everyone freezes.

  A few uncomfortable moments pass until someone speaks.

  “Um…is that supposed to happen?” Katie asks, her voice filled with hope that it sure as fuck was.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure,” Poppy says, sounding a hundred and fifty percent sure it wasn’t. It doesn’t help that the assistant looks about ready to puke and the photographer is white as a ghost.

  Then it happens.

  Complete and utter mayhem.

  The photographer starts screaming, along with the assistant and lighting guy. The spritzer crew takes off, and all our heads follow the zookeeper as he takes a leap off the rock and dives into the water.

  “So, should we…uh…”

  “Yeah…”

  When his manager screeches, “Run!” we finally kick into gear. Katie and Jerry take off toward the shore while Jason picks up his screaming wife and throws her over his shoulder.

  “Case, go.” I nudge her, but she doesn’t move. “Casey, we gotta go! Fuck knows where that thing went!” She still doesn’t budge. The color has stripped from her face, and I think she’s in shock. Great. I spring into action, picking her up and booking it.

  The rocks below are slick, and I almost slip. I fumble with Casey in my arms, which triggers her to come out of her zone—and start screaming.

  “Fuck,” I grunt when she fights against my hold, nudging me in the balls. I almost drop her, but push through it. I have to climb up a little ledge of rock to get to solid ground, but something slithers against my leg.

  No, no, no, no…

  I step on the rock and scoot over to reach the next rock. My only thought is to get the hell out of this water.

  I try to keep my cool, but then I see it.

  The devil’s creature.

  I consider myself a man. A tough, no-bullshit, I’ll-kill-for-anyone kind of man.

  Except right now. My inner child threatens to scream like a girl and take off. I spot Jason at the edge of the lake and think quick. “I’m gonna toss you to Jason.”

  It doesn’t help that she latches onto me tighter, seconds away from choking me. “No way! You’ll drop me! I won’t make it!” Her grip strangles me, and instead of trying to save us both, I’m trying to wrestle her arms from around my neck so I don’t pass out and doom us both.

  “Babe, listen. I’m gonna toss you. He’ll catch you. Unless you can walk.” Wrong thing to say. I’m going down. Never saw my life ending by being choked to death by a chick—and not even sexually related. I start to cough.

  “Case! I’m here! I got you.” Jason steps in, trying to help. Casey starts shaking her head erratically, knocking me in the nose. I lose my balance for a quick second, and she starts to scream harder.

  Something slithers past my leg again—and I start to fucking lose it. My own panic sets in, my muscles burning from holding her squirmy body, my legs in the same position, trying to keep us steady on the slick rock. It’s now or never.

  “Babe, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Just relax. I won’t let you go.” Her eyes are wild, staring into mine. “It’s you and me, okay?” She nods back and forth, her movements jerky. I guide my hand up and grip her waist. “Damn, you’re beautiful like this. All flustered.” Her eyes dilate. Her grip on me eases. “Would it be wrong to want to kiss you right now?” Her lips part, and I feel her chest inhale a small breath of air. “Pretend it’s only you and I, would you let me kiss you?”

  Her body succumbs, like Jell-O in my arms. She unclenches her death grip around me, her eyes now at half-mast. Her lips part even more, ready to answer me.

  That’s when I toss her.

  She goes flying, her ear-piercing shriek waking the dead. Thankfully, Jason’s football skills are on point. He catches her just as something wraps around my leg and I fall under the water’s surface. I thrash my legs out and reach for anything to take to my ankle and bash the thing off me, but when my hand disappears into the murky water, the only thing I retrieve is a fistful of seaweed. Well shit. That’s not good. Neither is the feeling of a slithering creature hugging your calf.

  I’m two seconds away from screaming like a frightened little girl. What are the chances if I toss myself at Jason, he’ll catch me too? My eyes search out the group. Tons of hands waving in the air, open mouths screaming something, but I’m deaf to it all. The only sound I hear is the thumping of my heartbeat. I guess now’s a good time to mention I’m scared to death of fucking snakes. I still have nightmares from when I lost a bet to Stu, our bass guitarist, and he made me sit through fourteen hours of snake movies during one of our tours.

  I’m a goner.

  This is it for me.

  When I die from a snake attack, I hope whoever plays my character makes this part look way manlier than what’s really happening. There’s sudden tightness around my ankle and I prepare to lose my leg along with my pride and life.

  “Oh, son of a bitch,” I groan. Time is flashing before me. I need to man up—now. With my luck, my made-for-TV movie would be a bust and everyone would remember me as the sissy who squealed like a pansy and let an anaconda take him out.

  Suck it up, bro. What would Steve Irwin do? Fuck! He’d probably hug the damn thing! Regroup. Think, think… Crocodile Dundee. That guy slayed snakes with his bare teeth. Problem is my stomach revolts at the thought of biting into the slithery creature of death.

  Back to the hopes of the heroic movie.

  Shouts from the zookeeper catch my attention, my eyes shooting toward the waterfal
l. His mouth is open and moving, but I can’t understand him over the other shouting.

  “What?” I yell, wanting to tell him I’m kinda fucking busy right now.

  He yells again, and I try to decipher what he’s saying. “Snap his neck on the rock?” Jesus, a little morbid don’t ya think?

  He shakes his head and shouts again.

  The pressure tightens, and it’s now or never. My adrenaline kicks in, and I swipe away a bead of sweat running down my face. I’m normally a lover of all things, but I have to remember this thing is out to kill me, so I need to not hold back. If that dude insists, death by snapping and bashing it is. I inhale and exhale in three short gusts, stretching my neck. Searching deep inside myself for my inner snake slayer, I exhale in a loud howl and go ape shit, taking my hands to the slimy creature and gearing up to destroy.

  Casey

  “Catch, bro.” Jason tosses a can of beer to Jim, then follows it as he dives off the side of the pontoon boat and swims up to where everyone is floating in a circle on foam noodles. Every time there’s a riff in the water, I panic. Even though we’re far from that stupid waterfall and that psycho rabid snake, I can’t stop picturing its slithering skin disappearing into the water. My body shivers at the thought, even with the blazing sun beating down.

  “Man, that toss was killer. How’d you learn to throw like that? No, wait—don’t tell me. You’re in the Olympics. Shot put. The way you manhandled that snake, I’d say you wrestle alligators in your sleep,” Jason says, laughing.

  I keep my eyes trained on Jim, waiting for his response. A small part of me is anxious because I can’t have him blowing our cover, but the bigger part of me is more curious how he managed to lift me above his head with the strength of a bull and throw me five feet. I didn’t put too much thought into it at the time, because I was clearly too busy screaming bloody murder. Once Jason had me safely in his arms, my concern shifted from my safety to Jim’s. When my eyes caught the commotion, the way he handled himself was…was…so freakin’ hot! Not only had he saved my life from being bit and swallowed by Hell’s spawn, he slayed the demon creature with his bare hands!

  My tummy does a little fluttery thing at the thought. He was like my knight in shining armor protecting me. Okay, so what if we learned after the fact it was just a trained rosy boa with zero venom and had been to more than a thousand shoots without a single mishap.

  Still…

  Snake.

  Scary.

  No thanks, Satan. Not today.

  I see the guilt in Jim’s eyes knowing he killed the eighteen-year-old harmless snake, but in my eyes, he’s a hero. In Mick’s producer’s eyes, a very expensive misfortune.

  “Nope. No gold medals for World’s Most Expensive Snake Killer.” His attention shifts to Mick. “Which I’ll pay for.”

  Mick shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. Should I mention Jim’s translation of the zookeeper yelling, snap its neck on the rock, was actually, stand still and he’ll unlock? “Don’t worry about it, brother. It’s part of the deal. Insurance and set fees. They prepare for that stuff. Virginia was getting old anyway.”

  Virginia? It was a she? And she had a name? Poor Jim, who’s visibly distraught with guilt. Using my legs, I swim closer to him and pat his shoulder, giving him the comfort he deserves. He did save my life.

  “Okay, so spill, what the hell do you do?” Jason asks, and the direct question sets me on edge. God bless it! Why do my friends have to be so damn nosey? I open my mouth to reply with something super over the top, but Jim beats me to it.

  “Nothing exciting. But I used to be a bouncer in college. Got used to throwing out crazy drunks way bigger than her.”

  Crazy drunks…hey!

  My legs kick out, and I splash him. “I am not crazy…or drunk!” And for the record, I’ve been watching my figure and making better dieting decisions. You’d be surprised how many less calories are in a Corona Light.

  “Bouncer to successful investor. That’s a story right there.” Jason raises his beer. The rest follow, and Jim and I share an awkward stall before raising our drinks. I wish my friends would stop staring at him like they’re so enthralled by all things Jim. It makes me uncomfortable. It also makes me feel like a big jerk. They’re all starting to really like him. I heard Mick telling Poppy he wanted to ask Jim to go on his next safari tour because he thinks Jim would enjoy wrestling the animals. I heard Jason tell him he got the tickets they talked about and would make plans when they got home to go to said game. I even heard Jerry ask Jim to set up a time after our weekend trip to talk music and take a tour of his vinyl record collection.

  How am I going to rip this guy out of their lives in less than a full day and not feel like a total jerk about it? I’m going to have to face the music. I should tell them all. But I can already picture their faces. Disappointment. Anger. Sadness. Always pity for poor Casey.

  And how would this make Jim look?

  Just as big of a lying jerk as me. And I can’t do that to any of them.

  “Jesus, Jerry!” Katie’s squeal breaks me from my thoughts, and I see everyone swimming in opposite directions.

  My first response is panic. That goddamn snake resurrected and has come for revenge. My chest starts to collapse, and I try moving my legs to swim away, but my body freezes in terror. That’s when Jim wraps his arm around me and kicks his legs out, swimming us outward into the lake.

  “Hey, relax.” His low voice soothes me instantly, pulling me into his chest. I can’t reply, but I watch as Katie whacks her husband over the head with her noodle and swims back to the boat.

  “What happened? Why is—?”

  “Jerry pissed in the lake.”

  Ew. “Like right there?”

  Jim chuckles, and I can feel the vibrations of his chest against my back. “Yeah. Apparently, when you’re high, you forget the difference between being in a chlorine filled pool and a lake.”

  “So, no snake?”

  His mouth is so close to my ear, the warmth of his breath heats my lobe. “No snake.”

  Phew. My breathing begins to relax. Then I realize how close Jim is holding me. For a split second, his lips ghost over the back of my neck, and the sun starts to disappear from my vision as my eyes slowly close. I wait for his mouth to touch my flesh.

  “I really like your friends,” he hums, teasing me.

  “They really like you,” I tell him, because it’s the truth. Instead of pressing his warm, wet lips and sucking until I explode—sorry, I’ve gone into fantasy mode—he adjusts me in his arms, so we’re nose to nose.

  “Can I ask you something without you kneeing me in my balls and killing any hope of me having kids?”

  I want to knee him in the balls for saying that to me! But his sweet, innocent look tells me I’ve been taking a lot of swings and maybe I should play nice. I nod. “Yes, I promise.”

  Sorta…

  “Why do you think your friends will look down on you if you aren’t really dating someone?”

  Dammit, wrong time to promise no physical abuse. Why did he have to go there? I have no idea. Because they’ll have the same reaction they do every time they critique my life. They’ll pity me.

  “Because they won’t see me the way they would if they thought I had the fulfillment of a man in my life.” His expression is still tender, but his brows go up. “I’ve always been the single one. If you haven’t figured it out by now, they’re all perfect, and happy, and established. And unless you’re blind, deaf, and dumb, you’ve realized I’m far from that. They pity me. They think because my goals aren’t to be successful, married, or have a dozen kids locked up behind my white picket fence, I must not be happy. And that means they set out this unrealistic goal of trying to make me happy. It’s too much.”

  Even the thought of spewing out twelve kids gives me the heebie jeebies. Especially after hearing half their stories about drug-free water births, natural, blah, blah, vomit. My crotch clenches shut as we speak.

  “I
get it. But I don’t think they pity you. I think they see a charismatic, carefree girl who doesn’t let life pass her up. I don’t think you need to lie about having a man in your life. You only have to be truly happy.”

  “I am happy,” I say in defense. My knee starts to aim.

  “All right, all right. You’re happy. Whatever you say, boss.” He goes silent for a second, but he wants to say more. “I just wanted to let you know that even though you have some anger issues, you’re an okay chick. Possibly more. It’s still to be determined if we make it out of this discussion with my balls intact.”

  I stare at him, less concerned with attacking his balls and more focused on what he just said. “You think I’m an okay chick? You barely even know me.”

  “I know enough to see you have a spark that lights up any room you’re in. You may be a hot mess, but if I had to define it, I would call it a beautiful disaster. And I would be lying if I said after this is all said and done, I wouldn’t want to call you sometime and take you out on a real date—be the real us and learn about the real you.”

  Have mercy…

  Did he just…

  “Breathe.”

  “I am breathing,” I snap.

  I wasn’t breathing.

  He just asked me out. I think. Asked the real me out—not the fake me. My heart beats faster. My cheeks flush. Still being in his arms, he’s able to sense the shivers cascading over my skin.

  “I’d even be the one to pay this time,” he follows up with a mischievous smirk.

  “What?” I ask, then it hits me. “Oh, the money I owe you.” I roll my eyes as his laughter vibrates into my chest.

  “I may want to wine and dine you on off-business terms, but you aren’t getting out of paying me for my services here. I’ve endured a lot of abuse. Earned that cash.” He laughs again as he closes his eyes when I splash him.

  “All business, aren’t you?” I say, fake pouting. “Weekend isn’t over yet, pal. I’ll be the one to decide if you’ve earned your keep.”