The Secrets of Lake Road: A Novel

by Karen Katchur

  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.

  Last night her mother had held her; this morning she had pushed her away. She wondered what it was about her that made her mother treat her this way. What did she do wrong?

  “Is Gram still sleeping?” she asked. At least Gram could stand to be around her even if her mother couldn’t.

  “I don’t know, Caroline.” She put the cup into the sink. “I’m getting a shower.”

  In the next minute, Caroline heard the bathroom door lock and the pipes clank as the water turned on. She stood from the bench seat. Somehow the cold treatment from her mother always stung more after the times she had shown her the slightest bit of affection.

  Well, she’d show her. She picked up the empty water jug and carried it back to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and twisted the cap on and off, debating whether or not she had the courage to go through with what she was thinking about doing.

  The well was located on the other side of the lake, and Caroline had been filling jugs with water for as long as she could remember. When she had been little and too weak to carry them on her own, Gram had accompanied her, and the two of them had made the trek. Her job was to hold the jug steady under the stream of clear cool water while Gram pumped. Gram said it was the best tasting water around. After all, the lake was one of the few freshwater lakes in the state of Pennsylvania, and she felt lucky to have a summer cabin next to it.

  Caroline was sure Gram had other jugs of water in the pantry, and she’d replace the one in the refrigerator soon enough, but this wasn’t about replenishing their supply. Her mother made her feel bad about herself all over one stupid drink, and that in turn made her angry. She chewed on these emotions, biting her bottom lip for a minute more. She decided she would refill it. She’d take only the one jug for no other reason than for spite.

  After a quick change into shorts and a T-shirt, she stuck her baseball cap on, grabbed the jug, and slipped out the screen door, making sure not to let it bang shut.

  When she reached Lake Road, she paused, thinking of the best route to take without being seen. She didn’t think she could bear another day watching underwater recovery on the lake, and she certainly didn’t want to risk bumping into Johnny or Chris or anyone else for that matter. She wasn’t sure, but she imagined her eyes looked as if she had been crying. Her face was probably pink and blotchy. Her mother had told her once she wore her heart on her sleeve—right before she had advised her to toughen up.

  Thinking about her mother’s words enraged her more, and she stomped through the woods, taking the same path she had the night before. She wasn’t halfway down the narrow trail, staying clear of the poison ivy that covered most of the area on her left, when the same dog started barking again. Darn dog. She spotted the mutt through the oak and maple trees. He was tied to a dog coop on the side of a cabin. She recognized him: Cougar, a name that mocked the poor animal before it ever stood a chance. No wonder he barked incessantly. He was looking for attention and, knowing his owners, Stimpy and his wife, he was hungry, too. She made a mental note to bring poor Cougar some food at some point during the day.

  When she came to the edge of the parking lot, she spied the underwater recovery team’s vehicle. Two of the men stood next to the truck, drinking coffee. Three other cars were parked in the lot. A couple sat on the hood of a sedan parked closest to the truck and men. Caroline recognized Sara’s mother. She was wearing the big sun hat she had worn on the day Sara disappeared. Her knees were pulled close to her chest, and she was hugging her legs tightly. A man sat next to her, presumably Sara’s father, hunched over with his feet propped on the front bumper. Both parents’ shoulders slumped, but Caroline could tell solely from the way they held their heads, necks craned forward and chins lifted, that their eyes had never left the water.

  She turned away from the scene, her stomach feeling as if a thousand minnows swam back and forth in it, making her seasick. She wound her way unnoticed to the far side of the Pavilion. The sign on the door was the same from yesterday: CLOSED.

  Turning at the sound of a car coming down Lake Road, she took off in the opposite direction of the beach and the recovery team, deciding on the longer route to the well. She’d have to walk in a near full circle around the lake, but the idea appealed to her. She wasn’t in any hurry to return to The Pop-Inn and face her mother, or Johnny the Jerk for that matter. Nor was she in any mood to listen to Megan’s obsessive talk about makeup and boys and kissing.

  She stuck close to the back of the cabins alongside the lake, smelling bacon and eggs as she passed. Sometimes she’d hear voices and the clinking of silverware inside. When she came to the last cabin before a stretch of woods, she saw Adam sitting on the pier all alone, holding a fishing pole.

  “Hey, Adam,” she said. “Catch anything?”

  He looked up. “Just a couple of sunnies.”

  There were a few slices of bread next to him. He was using dough balls, sticking them on the end of the hook, the perfect bait to catch sunnies. She had done the same thing so many times, she couldn’t keep count. All the kids fished for sunnies at some point during their time at the lake. Of course, you tossed the small fish back as soon as they were caught. They were too small to eat, and she was certain they wouldn’t taste good if you could.

  She sat next to him. Several fish had gathered around his hook, sneaking pieces of bread before darting away. A half dozen ducks were making their way across the water looking for handouts. Underwater recovery loaded their watercraft, preparing for another sweep.

  “Do you think Heil will ever give the horse’s bit back to me?” Adam asked.

  “I doubt it,” she said, and tossed a few bread crumbs to the ducks.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He rolled another dough ball and stuck it on the end of the hook. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you believe in the lake legend?”

  She had never really thought hard about it. It was one of those things you heard, and being a kid, you accepted without question that it was true. “I believe in it,” she said. “Do you?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You know what I think?” His voice was serious. “I think you have to be a kid to believe in stuff like legends
.”

  Caroline smiled, thinking he was right. She picked up the water jug. “Do you want to come to the well with me?”

  * * *

  They walked single file with Caroline in the lead, ducking under low branches and jumping across muddy patches where the lake water receded. They walked a good stretch in the woods following along the lake’s shoreline, until they came to a private beach and stopped.

  “Should we go around?” Adam asked.

  Caroline looked at the cabin not twenty yards away. It looked dark and quiet. “Let’s cut across. I don’t think anyone’s home.”

  They jogged across, kicking up sand onto the backs of their legs. They were halfway to the other side when someone yelled out a window, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Run!” Caroline shouted. She dashed to the next patch of woods and didn’t stop until she was under the cover of trees.

  Adam caught up to her, huffing and puffing. His cheeks were flushed. The excitement and exertion caused them both to burst out laughing. “Holy moly,” he said. “That scared the crap out of me.”

  “Me too,” she said, thinking if Megan had been with her, they would’ve gotten caught. Megan was terrible at anything physical, especially running. “Come on.”

  They continued to follow the meandering path around the lake, passing several more cabins with private beaches. Each time they stopped, counted to three, and darted across. No one caught them. No one yelled for them to keep out. Only once were the cabin owners outside, and they had to walk around rather than cut across the property. Caroline had to admit, she was having fun, the first bit of fun she had had since the summer had started.

  It wasn’t lost on her that she was enjoying hanging out with a ten-year-old boy more than any of the times she had spent with Megan the last few days. She wondered again if there was something wrong with her. She would be turning thirteen in the fall. Surely, other thirteen-year-old girls preferred doing the kinds of things Megan liked to do. She doubted any of them wanted to run through the woods, attempt trespassing, play silly games with a boy Adam’s age. Maybe this was what her mother saw when she looked at her—an oddball for a daughter, one who enjoyed sports, received poor grades, and dressed like a boy.

  It was true. Caroline didn’t fit in at school. Even the girls on her softball team weren’t exactly friends. They were big girls, tough girls, and more times than not, they were surprised when she threw someone out at first base or caught a line drive, although they shouldn’t have been.

  She was a good ballplayer.

  She wore the dirt stains on the knees of her uniform with pride. She took raspberries on her thigh sliding into home plate. And still the other girls teased her, laughed at her skinny arms and legs, her lanky build, all the while hiding behind chuckles.

  After an hour, she and Adam reached the well. Some of the anger she felt toward her mother peeled away as time elapsed. And for a few minutes she had forgotten about the little girl Sara and the underwater recovery team on the lake. But when she remembered, she crossed her fingers hoping Sara would be found soon and not because she wanted the public beach opened, but because the image of Sara’s parents sitting on the hood of a car was the saddest thing she had ever seen. Even at her age, she understood the scene would forever be imprinted on her mind. It was something she would never forget.

  “I’ll pump. You hold the jug,” she said to Adam. He held the jug under the spigot. Caroline lifted the handle up and down, up and down until a steady stream of water flowed.

  Once the jug was filled, she screwed the cap on tightly. They decided to make the trek back, but this time they’d take the shorter route. Adam was worried his mother would be looking for him. Caroline assumed he didn’t tell his mother initially where he was going since she was always quick to say no. His mother constantly worried about him, keeping close tabs on him, more than the other mothers around the lake. In a way, Caroline envied Adam. At least his mother showed she cared.

  They approached Hawkes’ cabin, where Chris lived. She hesitated, anxious about passing by his front door. If he saw her carrying a stupid water jug and hanging out with Adam, she thought it somehow made her look like a baby.

  “Let’s walk around back,” she told Adam.

  “But it’s quicker this way,” he said in that high-pitched voice of his.

  “We don’t want to bump into my brother.” Partly true, and she knew Adam would agree. He took enough teasing from the older boys as it was.

  They circled around the back of the cabin. She quickened her pace, but Adam made her stop so he could tie the laces on his sneaker. She leaned against an oak tree to wait. She wished he’d hurry up. Birds fluttered in the branches, crying at the intrusion. She looked up and thought of an old silly rhyme Gram had taught her. “Birdie, birdie in the sky, why’d you do that in my eye? I’m sure glad that cows can’t fly.”

  She laughed and pushed off the tree. Not far from where she stood she noticed a ring of rocks around an old campfire site. It wasn’t unusual for campfires to burn deep into the night, but this one hadn’t been used for some time. She wasn’t sure what exactly drew her toward the abandoned site, but she stepped in for a closer a look. Painted in white on a large rock that could have been used as a seat near the fire were the initials J+B surrounded by a heart. The paint was old and faded and nearly rubbed out, but there was no mistaking the letters.

  “Ready,” Adam said.

  “Yeah, okay,” she said absently, turning J and B over in her mind. Maybe they were Johnny’s and his big-boobed girlfriend’s initials, but that seemed unlikely. Their initials would’ve looked freshly painted, not old and faded.

  Her mind jumped to other possibilities, to her mother, Josephine, and the mysterious boy named Billy. It was unsettling, almost frightening to think of her mother with anyone other than her father. But really, what did she know of her mother’s life other than that she had married young and soon after, her brother, Johnny, was born? It was an uneasy feeling, realizing for the first time her mother had been someone else before she had married Caroline’s father, before she had been Johnny and Caroline’s mother.

  * * *

  Caroline didn’t mention the painted rock to Adam. Instead she hurried him away from the abandoned sight and Hawkes’ cabin. She wanted to forget she ever saw it, but at the same time she knew she wouldn’t.

  They reached the dock where she had seen Stimpy and his men setting traps. They stopped and looked around. They were alone, although Stimpy’s cabin was only a few feet away.

  “Let’s pull up the lines,” she said, and set the water jug on the pier.

  Adam’s eyes darted around. “What if we get caught?”

  “We’re just looking to see if they caught anything.” She squatted next to the post where the line was attached. She pulled. The trap felt heavy. “They got something.”

  “Isn’t it against the law to mess with a fisherman’s line?” Adam asked, but he crouched next to her and peered into the water.

  “We’re not messing with anything. Not really.” She braced herself against the post and tugged harder. The trap lifted from the bottom. She kept pulling, leaning back to use more of her weight. “Anyone coming?” she asked.

  Adam looked around. “No. Let me help you.” He grabbed farther down on the line and yanked.

  Slowly, the trap rose to the surface.

  “I see two snappers.” Adam’s voice lifted with excitement.

  It was the second time today she was doing something she shouldn’t be. And it was thrilling. “I see them,” she said in a voice just as excited as Adam’s.

  The trap could just about hold the two snappers. One looked to be the size of a Frisbee and the other was much larger, almost twice the size of the first. The big one stretched its neck and snapped. She and Adam jumped and dropped the line. They both watched as the trap sank to the bottom. The water was shallow enough for the turtles to come up through the holes in the trap to get air, to keep them alive.<
br />
  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and picked up the jug.

  They jogged along the path beside the dock, dodging fresh droppings left by the ducks. The sun burned the tops of their shoulders and backs as the morning wore on. Adam’s face was flushed. Caroline’s T-shirt was wet under her arms. She had caught a whiff of her own body odor when she had pulled on the fishing line. She had started shaving under her arms a few months back, but sometimes she plain forgot to put on deodorant.

  Once they were a safe distance from Stimpy’s pier, they slowed to a steady walk.

  “What are they going to do with those snappers anyway? Eat them?” Adam scrunched up his face as though he had bitten down on something tart.

  “No, I don’t think they want to eat them.” She switched the full jug to her other hand. “I think they want to tie lines to them and see where they lead.” She was giving him a roundabout answer. The dreams from the night before were still fresh in her mind, and the idea of the snappers feasting on little Sara’s body made her shiver.

  “Oh.” He kept his head down. After a few moments he said, “You mean, they think they can find that little girl’s body by following the snappers.”

  She paused, thinking about how to answer. She hated when adults held back the truth because they thought she was too young to hear it. Like the time she had overheard her father and mother talking about a procedure, a V-something or other. Her mother had been the one pressing for him to get one, and Caroline believed her mother was trying to hurt him. She had been worried and imagined all kinds of horrible outcomes of what this V-thing would do to her father, when she finally broke down and asked. Her mother had said it was none of her business and she wouldn’t understand anyway. So Caroline turned to Johnny. He had laughed at her, of course, but he had explained what a vasectomy was and why their father was getting one. She endured Johnny’s relentless ribbing and teasing for weeks after, and she chastised herself for always thinking the worst when it came to her mother. For once, she had been on her mother’s side, not wanting a baby brother or sister. Johnny was enough.