Dark Arts

by Randolph Lalonde

  “Sure, man,” the nearest one said as he passed the pipe to a young woman to his right.

  “Two beards,” she chuckled and pointing at his long beard and his crotch.

  “Oh, that’s right on,” the glassy-eyed young man to her right said. “That’s it, man, that’s making it all the way back to San-Fran. You’re Two Beards from now on.” He started standing and picking up his lawn chair. “You’re all-right, dude,” he said to Max as he held his thumb up and shook it at him before moving on.

  “The other way, mate,” Max said, pointing towards the edge of the beach furthest from the more public, all ages site. “No one cares if you smoke, we just don’t want to send a cloud over to the uptight beach.”

  “Oh, right, man,” he replied. The trio made their way to the other end, and Maxwell got his first look at the space since the previous summer. There were people at all three of the unlit fire pits, and nudity seemed to be the craze that afternoon. He could see at least fifteen people, and he counted four swimsuits, his and Miranda’s included.

  She seemed unaffected by the scene as they walked closer to the water and spread their towels out onto the fine pebbles. “Do you know any of these people?” she asked quietly.

  “Don’t recognize anyone,” Maxwell replied. It was unusual, the Gathering had brought young people from around the world, enough to outnumber the locals many times over. It was still early for them yet. On a Friday many of them would still be working that early in the afternoon. Miranda curled up with her arm across his chest as soon as he settled in, and rolled up against him for only a moment before saying; “way too hot for that,” and rolling away so air was passing between their bodies. “You come here a lot when you’re home?” she asked.

  “All the time, usually with my acoustic, but that’s been smashed,” Maxwell said. “Normally there’s only two or so people here, five people is busy.”

  “What happened to your guitar?” Miranda asked.

  “Zachary,” Maxwell said. “Last year’s been bad, especially for him and Darren.”

  “Why especially them?”

  “Started on a high with the record out all winter, sold a couple thousand around, then we get on the road to find it’s not in record stores. The company bought most of those copies to boost numbers, shipped most of them to radio stations and a few hundred to us. Sent us the bill for the ones we got too. Bernie, Scott and I had to take turns running ahead of the tour as soon as we started, trying to get a few shop keeps to buy them, put them out. We’re down to what’s in the house, sold everything we brought with us, but we worked our asses off, sold most of them at gigs, really.”

  “And that’s what’s been hard for them?” Miranda asked. “What about you?”

  “Zack and Darren expected more out of this summer than anyone, I think, starting on that kind of high, and getting out there to see disco taking over everywhere, getting as many cancellations as we did gigs, it brought them way down.”

  “What about you?” Miranda said, rolling over so she could look at him with her chin on his chest. “I know I’ve only been around today, but I can feel how tense you are.”

  “And you’re a relaxing sort to be with,” Maxwell said with a raised eyebrow. “I must be a bunch of rods and nuts ‘round everyone else.”

  “I’m serious,” Miranda said. “I have your record, it’s really good, especially the parts without Zack, you must have been on a high when you started the tour too.”

  “I was too busy earning,” Max said, stroking her cheek instinctively. He’d never had close, comfortable moments with anyone like he was having with Miranda. He could see her sweating as much as he was, though, and the water was looking more inviting by the second. “I picked up where my father left off when the money ran out a week into the tour. Started looking for that damned book, too. Didn’t have time to wallow about all our misfortunes.”

  Maxwell caught sight of Two Beards and his lady friend, her long blonde hair hanging limp past her shoulders in the still air, approaching with a plastic bag in her hand. He recognized the shape of what was inside from twenty feet away, two beer bottles. Their gentle jingling confirmed it.

  Miranda turned to see what Maxwell was smiling at. “Hello again,” Miranda called out.

  Two Beards smiled at them both as his blonde friend gave Miranda the bag. “We thought, since you two don’t smoke, maybe we could bring you some beers instead. The lady down there said you’re kind of the King and Queen this Gathering, so it’s probably good for our energy here. I’m Candace, and this is Peter, but I think he’ll be Two Beards for the rest of the week. Our friend is Gavin.”

  “I’m Max, this is Miranda,” he replied. “King and Queen?”

  “You’ve got this aura around you, man,” Two Beards said. “You can’t see it, you’re inside it, I dig, but it’s like this golden green thing, letting the shadows out in little pieces. Burnt leaves, floating away on the wind.”

  “You are very high,” Maxwell said with a smirk.

  A sharp elbow in the ribs was Miranda’s response to his remark. “Thank you very much, we’re all equal this week,” she said.

  “Why don’t you get down to your real skin, man,” Two Beards said innocently. “It’s nothing to anyone here, but it’s going to make your flow go so much better. Helps get the air at you too, feelin’ free.”

  “Maybe I can get some of what you’re smoking later?” Max asked. “I’m in the main cabin, I’m sure I’ll have something to trade.”

  “Sure, man,” Two Beards said. “Yeah, I’ll get around there tonight. You think on what I say though, dig?”

  “Get naked, won’t be able to stop thinking about it now,” Max replied.

  Two Beards seemed satisfied with the exchange and turned back towards the group his trio joined at the outer edge of he beach. His girlfriend leaned down low. “You’re right, he’s really high, but he’s right too,” she whispered before turning and catching up to him.

  “Paying respect to the King and Queen of auras,” Maxwell said, shaking his head. “Going to be a week to remember.”

  “Could be,” Miranda said. “Something to think about though, I don’t see anyone else wearing a stitch.”

  Maxwell raised his head and glanced down the beach long enough to get an eyeful of young to middle aged nude loungers and bathers then put his head back down. Even the people who were wearing suits before had left them behind somewhere. “Funny how suits disappear here.”

  Miranda’s face made another appearance in front of his, her chin resting on the top of his chest. Her brown eyes stared into his. “Never gone nude on a beach before.”

  “Who, me?” Maxwell asked. “Maybe when I was a wee thing, two or three.”

  “No, me,” Miranda said. She was blushing from her full lips to her sweat-covered forehead. “There was a lot of topless going on in Spain, but I never went nude. I don’t know…”

  “Ignore ‘em, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Maxwell said. “I’ll take one of those beers in a minute though.”

  “Good,” Miranda said, putting her head down. Maxwell felt her sigh against him as he traced his fingers along the arm she had across his chest. “This is nice,” she whispered after a few passes of his hand. “I feel a little out of place though.”

  Maxwell didn’t have patience to listen to her go back and forth on the decision to take her one-piece suit off, or much modesty, and as much as he liked being close to Miranda, he could feel sweat pooling on him. “Time for a dip then,” he said, extracting himself from her, standing up and dropping the little clothing he had on his way into the water.

  He could not ignore how aggressively cold it was. Spring fed lakes were frigid regardless of the weather, but he did manage to outwardly pretend it was no problem at all as he ran to diving depth and leapt forward. It was just as much a shock as it was relief.

  He managed to face away from the beach as he resurfaced, gasping once. A few long strokes took him to neck depth water
s on the beach’s slight grade. The curve and peninsula in the shape of the lake provided a natural divide complete with tall, thick trees between the two beaches. The quiet of the calm, cool water was always a comfort to him. Maxwell couldn’t deny that he was a creature most suited to summer.

  His bravado was rewarded as he looked back towards the beach from where he was almost neck deep in water. Miranda was running towards the water, her swimsuit left behind. He was quietly thrilled at the sight, she was more beautiful than he would have guessed. An instant later she splashed into the water up to her knees, shrieked, tried to stop and fell in. Miranda came up sputtering. She recovered with a little more grace, flinging her wet hair back and beginning her wading journey towards him.

  Maxwell began walking towards her. She noticed him when he was waist deep. “Oh, no,” she said, sloshing a couple steps down the bank.

  “You’re already wet,” he chided. “May as well come the rest of the way in.”

  “Was it always this cold here? It’s August, I mean-“ she didn’t have a chance to finish before Maxwell surged towards her. He caught one of her hands in his and held it lightly.

  “It was always this cold, luv,” he said, slowly teasing her deeper into the water. “You were just too young to care for long the last time you were here.”

  “Lemmie go,” she said cringing as she was guided at arms-length to mid thigh depth.

  “I’m not holdin’ you, luv,” Max said, letting her hand go for a moment, then touching only her fingers. He took two steps into deeper water, letting her hand go entirely. “Here goes,” she said, dipping under completely.

  She came up with a gasp. “Wow! That’s not what I remember.” She bent forward, then whipped her hair back overhead so it fell behind her, flicking water into the blue sky. She closed the distance between them, and drifted into his arms so her back leaned against his chest. She gasped again as Maxwell brought her into neck deep waters. He let his hands rest across her belly and didn’t say a word. There wasn’t a single thought in his head to share anyway.

  Miranda rested against him, her hands on his. They had started something. More sons and daughters of the sixties were coming to the beach, and Max counted six who were chasing each other into the water. As much as holding Miranda in his arms was thrilling, it felt as though they’d fallen back into an innocent time, when people could simply play.

  “Do you want me to let you go?” he asked quietly, his chin nearly resting on her shoulder. It was his way of checking on her happiness, her comfort, and making sure he wasn’t misreading her ease with him.

  Miranda entwined her fingers between his and turned her head, meeting his lips. Maxwell held her close as their kiss continued on from the first electric touch of their lips into an intimate and eager exploration that felt like it was only minutes long. They drifted lazily in the cool water, the kiss an extension of their close embrace. Being with Miranda was exciting and easy at the same time. His arms remained around her, gently holding her and she fit against him comfortably. Miranda and Maxwell’s kiss was serious at first, a statement of want that felt like it had been building for much longer than a day. It was as though he’d missed the woman she’d become for years, and finally found her.

  Time, their closeness, and their kiss continued on, but it was at times needy, then slow, and finally a little playful, celebratory. Neither of them knew how long they were together, left alone in the calm water.

  They were finally interrupted when Maxwell and Miranda heard Scott’s voice drifting over the water. “Max! We’re going to barbeque here, we’ve got some coolers! We’ll be by the fire pit.”

  Miranda groaned her disappointment and slowly turned her face away from the kiss, Max letting her lips leave, and shouted. “Thanks!” before whispering; “he always had bad timing.”

  Max kissed her behind the ear and gave her a squeeze. “They’re going to expect us to get out sometime.”

  “Listen, um,” Miranda said. “I’ve fallen in with someone for a night before, but I didn’t know him well, and it was sort of a free love thing.” She took a breath and sighed. “I don’t want that, you know, right? I want us to be a thing, a good thing. I’m not easy that way.”

  “Never thought you were,” Maxwell said. He’d had one-night stands before, there was a feeling of something fleeting whenever one was happening. An unspoken contract that stated simply: expect nothing past the morning. He did not have that feeling with Miranda. “This goes on and on, luv.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Miranda asked with a soft chuckle.

  “Just saying I’ve never wanted just the one, forsaking all others kind of thing. Never wanted an old lady,” Maxwell said.

  “Don’t strain yourself trying to talk about your feelings,” Miranda said. “Good thing I speak caveman.” She turned around and shook her head at him. “One day and I’m naked in a lake with you.”

  “Not what your aunts would want?” Maxwell asked.

  “Not a good time to bring my aunts up,” Miranda replied. “But if they did catch us like this, they’d try to have us married by the end of the week. They’re a bit weird, very woman’s liberation, believe it’s all right for us to have fun too, but they still want me married off to you as fast as they can arrange it. I’d wonder if we were under a spell, but I’ve got a ward tattooed. Can’t happen.”

  “I don’t remember seeing a tattoo,” he said.

  “It’s very small, you’ll have to look for it later,” Miranda replied with a wink.

  “So, you haven’t cast a spell on me?” Maxwell asked, his hands moving lower.

  “Didn’t say that,” Miranda said, kissing him on the nose then pulling away. “We should go in.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he said as he watched her walk away, emerging from the water. “Need to simmer down.”

  “I’m sure no one would care. Nothing to be ashamed of down there either,” she added with a smirk.

  “If it’s just the same,” Maxwell said.

  “I could wait with you,” she replied.

  “May as well wait for dinner while you’re outside having a smoke with him,” he whispered.

  “I’m the cook in this analogy,” Miranda said, amused.

  “Well, I suppose I could walk out with you, grinnin’ and boasting,” Maxwell replied.

  Miranda laughed. “Now that’s something I wouldn’t want my aunts to see. All right, I’ll leave if you agree never to call me your Old Lady again,” Miranda said. “I get what it means, but I don’t have the years.”

  “Done, promised.”

  Miranda turned in time to see Bernie and Scott taking the last of their clothes off. “Oh, wow, Bernie’s like a blonde sasquatch.”

  He looked at what prompted her comment, and a moment later, his problem was gone. “That did it, ready to come out,” Maxwell said.

  A curvy blonde woman ran up between them, untying her two-piece. “And there’s the trouble I saw for Bernie or Scott.”

  “What? April? She’s barely ever here,” Bernie said.

  “You don’t think she’s pretty? She’s a knockout.” Miranda said, taking Maxwell’s hand as they started making their way out of the water. “Like Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Too fair haired and demanding,” Maxwell said. “She’s one of the rich daughters in town.”

  When she was more than half way out, he looked at Miranda’s bottom caught sight of a small, circular tattoo. “There it is!”

  “There’s what?” Scott asked as he took slow strides into the cold water.

  “Oh, Exponentia Silentium seal on her bum,” Maxwell said, patting her cheek with just enough vigor for three light slaps to echo across the water.

  “Hey!” Miranda said, laughing and covering. “Let’s not start that.”

  They moved their towels closer to the main fire pit, settling in beside the coolers Scott and Bernie brought with them. The sun and heat dried them as they laid out enjoying the beer Two Beards had brought. It
was just cold enough, having been out of his cooler less than an hour.

  “I forget you know about that stuff,” Miranda said as she lay beside him.

  “More than I’d like to,” Maxwell said. He couldn’t help but think about the boy who asked that his family be brought to the water. He followed an urge to look towards the shore and saw them standing there. They were filthy, their clothing was old and weather worn. Maxwell looked at them calmly. “I know I’m the only one who can see an immigrant family on the edge of the water.” He whispered. “If you take my hand right now, and look where I’m staring, you’ll see them too.”

  Their pleading eyes reminded him of one of his father’s lessons. The living only have a duty to the dead if they are chosen to speak for them. Miranda took his hand and gasped. “It’s as though the sunlight can’t touch them, they’re in a shadow.”

  “How many?” Maxwell asked.

  “Six. Four children, two parents. They look like they’ve been bound,” she replied.

  “Fuck, I’m not crazy,” Maxwell said. “They’re standing over my shorts with the shard.” He stood up and walked over, not worried that the family disappeared the moment he was on his feet.

  Miranda hurried behind him. “Are you okay? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m fine, I need you though. You can take the place of a Summoner in a circle?” he asked.

  “I was trained since I was little,” Miranda replied. “How did you know?”

  “I remember you and Bernie talking about it.” He pointed to Bernie, whose head was just coming out of the water. April was sneaking up on him, about to push him back down but was interrupted by Max’s pointing finger. “Need your help, mate.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Bernie started sloshing out of the water. “What’s up?”

  “Have to release an immigrant family who was murdered here about a hundred twenty or hundred forty years ago by a corrupt priest,” Maxwell said as he picked up his shorts and started fishing for the shard. He tried not to think on how he was picking up more details about them as seconds passed.