by Bill Wallace
It made me feel really self-conscious and uncomfortable. So I went upstairs to see what Dad and the other firefighters were doing.
It was around ten thirty when the storms passed. Most of the bad ones went to the north of us. Dad’s shift wasn’t over until eleven, so Mom and I got Mrs. Baum and headed home. There were lots of small limbs and stuff on the roads, but other than that I couldn’t see much damage.
As we drove, I really wanted to ask Mrs. Baum what she and Krissi had been talking about when they kept looking at me and giggling. I just didn’t have the nerve. But when we got to her house . . .
“Kent,” Mom said, turning the engine off. “Walk Emma to the door and make sure everything’s okay in the house.” She reached over and opened the glove compartment. “I’ll take a quick walk around the outside and see if there’s any storm damage.”
Together, Mrs. Baum and I peeked in each of the rooms. In the kitchen she made me take six more chocolate chip cookies, then she walked with me back to the front door.
“What were you and Krissi giggling about?” I blurted out.
Mrs. Baum smiled. I couldn’t help notice the little twinkle in her eye. “You.”
I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I was just going to ask her what they were saying about me when Mom stepped onto the porch.
“Things are fine out here, Emma. You need anything else before we head home?”
“Nope. Doing fine, Elizabeth. Thanks for picking me up. Kent, I’ll talk to you again sometime,” she added with a wink.
I wanted to know—now. But I guess she could tell I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Mom.
As soon as we got home, I went to check on Duke. He galloped up from the pasture and shoved his nose in the food bucket that I brought him. I took a quick look at the barn and pen. Sure that everything was all right, I headed back to the house.
I waited for Dad in the garage. While I was standing there, I glanced down at my scuba tank. I felt the smile tug at my ears.
Pink two-piece bathing suit.
I could hardly wait for underwater rescue classes to start next week.
16
Last night I went to sleep with peaceful visions of Krissi Korbin swimming around in her pink two-piece bathing suit.
I guess that’s why the next morning came as such a shock.
I wiggled and squirmed a while, then finally sat up on the edge of my bed. As soon as I got my eyes opened and stopped yawning long enough to see, I glanced out the window. There were limbs and trash all over the side yard. I threw on some clothes and trotted outside to see if Duke was okay. I spotted him munching grass in the pasture and swishing at flies with his tail. My horse was fine, but two sheets of tin had been ripped from the roof of his shed. Next to the corral, a big tree limb had snapped and landed on the fence. I could see where the wood was all white and shiny. Frowning, I remembered feeding him the night before and not seeing anything wrong.
Were you so busy thinking about Krissi that you didn’t even notice the barn was messed up? You didn’t see the broken fence?
Before I could even answer myself, I shook my head. There was no way I could have missed that.
When I walked around the other side of the house, I saw a couple of trees that had fallen over, up by the road.
Mom and Dad were drinking their coffee when I flew through the back door. I guess my eyes were wide and my mouth was gaping open, because Dad answered before I even had a chance to ask.
“Another line of storm rolled through, just before daylight.”
“A second storm? I didn’t hear a thing,” I confessed.
“Wasn’t much thunder or lightning—just wind.”
“Lots of wind,” Mom added.
Dad took a sip of his coffee. “Planned to spend my day off fishing. From the looks of things, probably take most of the day to get it cleaned up around here.” He shrugged and took another sip from his cup. “Well, maybe I can get a little fishing in with you boys tonight. You wouldn’t mind if I spent a few minutes at your campout, would you?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure it would be fine with the guys. Might even see if Mr. Aikman wants to come, too.”
“Be good for you to spend some time with your son,” Mom said. “You might even—” Suddenly she broke off. She blinked a couple of times, then her eyes got kind of big. “Oh, my gosh. The dinner and wedding shower for Samantha Hamilton is supposed to be tonight. They were going to have it outside in their garden.”
Dad blinked back at her. “That’s right! Carl and Pepper have been working on a gazebo. You better go and call. See if they had as much damage over on the Point as we did. If they need our help, we can always clean up around here tomorrow.”
While Mom was on the phone, Dad and I went to check the shingles on the roof. It wasn’t long before she came out to join us.
“They had wind damage. Their gazebo is all right, but the yard’s a total mess.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Dad asked. Mom shook her head and explained that Pepper’s folks decided, even with the whole neighborhood pitching in, they couldn’t get it cleaned up and ready by tonight. So she called their preacher to see if they could use the church banquet room. Mom was supposed to check back around noon to see if they needed any help.
We spent the rest of the day picking up limbs that were scattered all over the yard and pasture. Dad went to town and got some tin to fix Duke’s barn and three boards for the corral fence.
When he got back he found his chain saw in the garage, and I helped him cut the trees off the fence up by the road and get the big limb off Duke’s corral. Even cut into small logs, the green wood was heavy and hard to lift. We put the big stuff in the back of his truck, then drove down to add that to the pile Mom and I had made in one of the small ravines. We didn’t eat lunch until four that afternoon. After that we rested a few minutes and went to put the new tin on Duke’s roof.
• • •
I was almost near worn out by the time Ted and Mr. Aikman showed up. While our dads talked, Ted and I went after my fishing stuff.
“No shad gizzards or cut bait,” Ted told me as we walked back to where our dads were. “The bait shop was out. Didn’t have time to go shoot some with my bow and arrow, because we spent the whole day picking up tree limbs and replacing some tin on the hay barn. Dad got two extra cartons of worms. Figured you, Jordan, and I could go a little early and catch some perch for cut bait.”
“Does Pepper get to come?” I asked.
“Think so.” Ted nodded. “The shower’s just a grown-up party. Yesterday he told me that he’d go fishing with us. But . . . that was before the storm and the mess it made out of their yard.”
• • •
It was almost dark by the time everyone got there and we had our camp set up. Chet and Daniel brought a tarp to put under the tents and sleeping bags. The ground was still pretty damp from the rain the night before. While they did that, the rest of us found some semidry wood for the fire. Pepper was the last to get there.
He pulled his horse to a stop, right between the tents. Shaking his head, he leaned forward and rested his forearm on the saddle horn.
“You have no idea how happy I am to be here.” He sighed. “It’s like totally crazy around my house. Everybody’s running in circles and goin’ nuts. I’m just glad to get out of there. I wish Samantha had eloped instead of going through all this shower stuff.”
He twisted around in the saddle, reaching for something behind him. I kind of leaned to the side so I could see what he was after. There were two bags of charcoal, strapped across the back of the cantle like saddlebags. He lifted them off and turned around.
“Figured all the firewood was damp from the rain last night. Brought some charcoal and lighter fluid. Don’t want to starve to death. Where do I put Salty?” he asked, patting his horse on the neck.
“Foster, Zane, and Daniel put their horses at Kent’s house,” Jordan answered. “There’s still room in with Ma
c.”
We got the fire started and waited for Pepper to come back. As soon as he sat down, I nodded.
Ted jumped to his feet. “Let’s go bait the bank poles.”
Jordan and I got up, too. “We’ll go with you.”
At the very same time, all three of us unsnapped, then unzipped our pants. When I nodded, we spun around so our backs were to the rest of the guys and dropped our jeans.
Boos and hisses came from around the campfire.
“That’s not fair!” I recognized Foster’s voice.
“Yeah,” Zane called out. “You guys got on your bathing trunks!”
More boos and hisses filled the air.
Laughing, we turned back to face them.
“You didn’t think we were going skinny-dipping again, did you?” Ted chuckled. “How dumb can you be?”
I laughed. “After that catfish attacked me, there’s no way I’m getting in the water without something on.”
That’s when I noticed the sly grin on Daniel’s face. He nudged Chet in the ribs with his elbow. Both of them stood up. Pepper got to his feet, too.
“Now!” Chet called.
All the other guys unsnapped, unzipped, and spun around to drop their drawers.
Only they had their bathing trunks on, too.
All Jordan, Ted, and I could do was stand there with our mouths gaping open.
Finally we laughed, shook our heads, and laughed some more.
• • •
I have to admit, the water felt extra good that evening. I’d spent the whole day working in the heat, helping drag off all those limbs and logs. The lake was cool and relaxing—especially with a bathing suit on.
The three of us worked our way down the line of bank poles. We put worms on the first hook, minnows on the next, and the cut bait that Jordan, Ted, and I had caught on the third. Then we started over again. That way we could keep track of what the catfish were biting on.
At the next to the last pole I stopped.
A weird feeling crept over me—made my muscles tight. Made it hard for me to breathe. I didn’t know why. It was kind of like my knees just locked up and I couldn’t take another step.
Something was wrong—but for the life of me, I didn’t know what it was. Whatever . . . the feeling froze me dead in my tracks.
17
Ted and Jordan were almost to the last pole when they noticed I wasn’t with them. They turned. Ted motioned for me to come on. When I still didn’t move, they sloshed back.
“What is it, Kent?” Ted frowned. “What’s wrong?”
All I could do was stand, chest deep in the water, and shake my head.
“Did something happen?” Jordan asked. “Did you see something?”
Staring toward Mrs. Baum’s place, a chill raced up my spine. It started right at my tailbone, scampered up my back, and spread across my shoulders. I rubbed at the little bumps that popped up on my arms.
“Something’s just not right,” I managed finally. “But . . . but . . . I’m not sure . . . I don’t know what.”
Both of my friends looked around—all nervous and jumpy—then turned back to me.
“Is this where you first saw the Lake Monster the other night, Kent?” Ted asked.
I shook my head. “No, it was back there,” I said, jabbing my thumb over my right shoulder. “Back where the creek comes in.”
They scooted closer to each other and yanked their heads around as if looking for something.
“Perhaps this was where you last saw the aberration,” Jordan suggested.
“The WHAT?” Ted yelped.
“Aberration,” Jordan repeated.
“Isn’t that one of those Australian guys?”
Jordan’s lip curled way up on one side. “No, you ditz. You’re thinking Aborigine. I said aberration.”
Jordan turned to me. Leaning over so he could look me square in the eye, he made sure he had my attention. “Kent, was this where you last saw the monster?” He stressed the word monster and shot another irritated look at Ted.
I nodded, then pointed. “Yeah. It was right there. Out in the water. I was standing between those two cottonwood . . .”
The word trees never came out.
My voice trailed off. My eyes flashed.
That’s what it was! That’s what was wrong! There was only one big cottonwood tree in front of Mrs. Baum’s place. There had always been two. But . . . now . . .
Once I figured out what was bothering me—what was different—it just took a second to spot where the tree had fallen. A huge ball of dirt-covered roots stood up where the base of the tree used to be. It was bigger around and taller than the three of us put together. The trunk, limbs, and branches were in the lake.
“That’s it! The tree. One of the big cottonwood trees must have blown over during the storm.”
Wanting to investigate closer, I started toward it. Then I stopped. Be just my luck for Mrs. Baum to be watching. She’d come out and yell at us to get away from her yard. Then she’d stand watch—all night. We never would get to investigate the little shed.
“I see no reason to be apprehensive,” Jordan said. “The wind blew a number of trees over. And as for any concerns you might have about the monster . . . You and Zane, both, spotted the aberration late at night. It is doubtful that it would appear this early.”
Ted jabbed his fists on both hips and glared at Jordan. “All right! What is it with this aberration stuff? Just exactly what does that mean?”
“Well,” Jordan began. “It’s where, due to your position or the refraction of light, you see one thing and it appears to be something else. For instance, people on the desert often see a lake where there is none. They see a mirage or an aberration. Its simply heat thermals bending the light so the sand looks like water.”
Ted’s upper lip curled so high, it almost touched his nose. “What’s that got to do with the Lake Monster?”
Jordan heaved a disgusted sigh. “Obviously, there is no such thing as a Lake Monster. Correct?”
Ted nodded.
“Still,” Jordan went on, “Zane, Kent, and various other people have seen what appears to be the Lake Monster’s eyes. Agreed?”
Frowning, Ted nodded again.
“Logically, if there is no such thing as a monster, yet people keep seeing what appears to be a monster—it has to be an aberration. A thing or object that is not what it seems.”
Leaving Ted with his mouth gaping open, Jordan turned and started toward the last bank pole. “Of course,” he said over his shoulder, “there is a secondary meaning to the word.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“Aberration also means disorder or unsoundness of the mind.”
“What?” Ted chimed in.
Jordan’s sides jiggled in and out. Even with his back to us, I could tell he was laughing. “Unsoundness of the mind—like, crazy. It means you and Kent are nutty as a fruitcake.”
With that, Ted shoved his minnow bucket at me. “Here. Hold this.”
Legs churning and hands digging the water, he took off after Jordan. “Crazy? You’ll think crazy!”
Jordan heard him coming. Laughing—out loud this time—he sprinted away. They chased and dodged and laughed until I thought they both were going to fall dead in the water from exhaustion. When Ted finally caught him, he grabbed Jordan from behind. He wrapped his arms around Jordan’s, pinning them to his sides so he couldn’t fight back. Then, lifting with all his might, and leaning to the side, he dunked him. Jordan came up sputtering, but still laughing. Ted dunked him again.
This time, when Ted brought him back up, I saw the strange look on Jordan’s face. Eyes wide, he didn’t even try to spit the water out. Mouth gaping open, he looked puzzled or scared . . . or something.
Ted threw him under again.
“Stop!” I screamed, racing toward them. “There’s something wrong with Jordan!”
I could tell from the look on his face. He’d either swallowed too much water or g
ot choked or . . .
Whatever it was, it was bad!
Ted instantly pulled Jordan back to the surface and loosened his grip. I reached out to help Ted hold him up.
Jordan didn’t need help.
He yanked his shoulders back and forth, to get loose. For a moment I thought he was just faking so he could get away.
But once free, he didn’t try to run.
Instead he just stood there, frowning down at the water. Then he stuck his head under.
“What is it, Jordan?” I asked when he popped back up. “Are you hurt?”
“Yeah.” Ted leaned in from the other side. “What’s wrong?”
“SHUT UP!”
Jordan screeched the words so loud, Ted and I kind of jerked back.
I guess the others had heard the commotion, followed by the sudden silence. Flashlights bobbed and bounced down the hill toward us. Jordan stuck his head underwater again. This time Ted and I did the same.
The only thing we could hear were voices and shouts and splashes. We looked up. The guys raced out in the lake to see what we were doing.
“Everybody STOP!” Jordan barked. “Stand real still and put your head under the water. Don’t say anything, just listen.”
Daniel kind of sneered at him. But when everyone else did what Jordan told them to . . .
At first I didn’t hear a thing. Then faint—far away—I heard it.
Tap, tap, tap. A long pause. Tap . . . tap . . . tap. Another long pause, followed by three more quick taps.
All of us snapped our heads up about the same time.
“What is it, Jordan?” Foster wondered. “What’s going on?”
“Somebody’s in trouble,” he barked. “They need help.”
Daniel, our fearless leader, folded his arms. His lip curled up on one side.
“That’s bull. It’s just somebody tapping on something. Jordan—the nerd—is flippin’ out again.”
Jordan turned to glare at him. “Three short, three long, three short. It’s an SOS. It’s Morse code, you moron! A distress signal.”
Daniel bristled up like a porcupine. His sunken chin sloped so sharply toward his neck, it looked like he was about to swallow it. “I’m the general of this outfit! Nobody calls me a moron,” he snarled. “I’m gonna beat the snot out of . . .” Fists doubled, he charged toward Jordan.