Snapper

by Felicia Zekauskas

  Still, when it came to the lake, Isaac had three hard-and-fast rules for his son.

  “Number one: never swim out past the floating dock. Number two: never swim at night. And number three: never, ever go swimming when the moon is full.”

  “Alright, Dad, I hear you,” said Augie. “You’ve told me that a million times.”

  By age twelve, Augie swam like a fish. And though he’d never gone swimming after dark or when the moon was full, he had slowly and over time stretched the boundaries of how far out he swam. Often Isaac would look out from the cabin and see Augie and a friend splashing in the water far beyond the floating dock.

  Then Isaac would take a deep breath and remind himself that there was nothing to worry about. His fears were baseless. He had to just let go and – how did his mother used to put it? – let God.

  The ultimate test came the day he and Augie were sitting in the hot summer sun with their legs dangling over the side of the floating dock.

  “You know what I’d really like to try?” said Augie.

  “No,” said his father. “What?”

  “I’d like to try skin diving.”

  It was as if Isaac had just taken a harpoon through his heart. This was the last thing he wanted Augie to do. And he blamed it all on that damn TV show – Sea Hunt – with Lloyd Bridges. The show made skin diving look so adventurous. And every afternoon Augie was glued to the tube watching reruns of it.

  “I don’t know, Augie,” said Isaac. “Skin diving is an expensive hobby. And it’s dangerous.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Dad,” said Augie. “I’ll pay for the equipment. And I’ll learn how to dive properly. I’ll take lessons. And I’ll pay for them, too.”

  “You’ll pay?” said his Dad. “Well, I suppose if you can pay, you can do it.”

  Isaac thought he was buying himself time – years of it. Augie’s allowance was just fifty cents a week. It would take him forever to save enough money to pay for skin diving equipment and lessons.

  But Isaac was wrong.

  The next afternoon Augie burst into the cabin with an announcement.

  “I got a job!” he said.

  “Where?” asked Isaac. “Doing what?”

  “At Bonds’,” said Augie. “Doing whatever – clearing tables, doing dishes, sweeping up. Mr. Bond says he’ll pay me a dollar fifty an hour – under the table.”

  Isaac could hardly believe his ears. Then things got even worse.

  “And look at this,” said Augie.

  He handed his father a rolled up copy of The Turtleback Gazette. The paper was folded open to the classified page. A small ad had been enthusiastically circled.

  Isaac read the ad.

  Somebody was selling his kid’s old skin diving equipment cheap.

  “I already called the guy,” said Augie. “And he said I could pay in installments. Isn’t that great, Dad?”

  “Yeah,” said his father. “It’s great – really great.”

  Chapter 22

  TURTLEBACK LAKE JUNE 2006

  Deena was checking the brie on the counter to see if it had begun to soften when she heard the sound of gravel crunching in the drive.

  “Oh my god!” she said. “He’s here.”

  Her heart began to race. It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. Ever since they’d spoken on the phone, Deena had built up a vivid fantasy around August. All morning she’d been a wreck. Now it was Saturday afternoon, and he was here. She knew she should just calm down. He was probably going to turn out to be some pudgy bald-headed guy with bad teeth.

  Still, before peeking out the window, Deena went to the mirror and fixed her hair one last time. Then she looked out.

  “Oh my god!” she said.

  Her fantasy had fallen short – way short.

  August was tall – at least six one or two; his hair was a shade of blonde that most people have to dye for; and his face, from his pale green eyes to the cleft in his chin, was movie-star handsome. Deena suddenly panicked. August was too good, too handsome. He was out of her league. But what could she do?

  Deena opened the door and, affecting a nonchalance that she didn’t in the least feel, she leaned against the doorframe.

  “Dr. Andersen, I presume?” she said.

  “Just plain August will do,” he answered. “And you, I presume, are my tenant – Deena Goode?”

  “In the flesh,” said Deena, reaching out to shake August’s hand.

  “Have you been enjoying the cabin?” he asked.

  “More than I can say,” said Deena. “It’s been wonderful.”

  “I’m so glad,” said August. “As I said on the phone, there are just a couple of things I want to attend to as long as I’m in the area. I don’t think they should take very long.”

  “Take all the time you need,” said Deena. “And please, since you’ve come all this way, I hope you’ll stay for a little bite before you leave.”

  “A little bite sounds nice,” said August. “I’ll look forward to it. Thank you.”

  As August set to work outdoors, Deena went inside and changed into her bathing suit. She wrapped herself in her white terry cloth robe but left it untied in front. August was down on his knees examining a line that led to the septic tank when ten bare toes with brightly painted nails entered his field of vision. August’s gaze scanned up Deena’s bare legs and over the gentle undulations of her tight black bathing suit before reaching her eyes.

  “I’m just going for a little dip,” she said, smiling down at August. “If you need anything inside the cabin, help yourself. The door’s open.”

  “Thanks,” said August. “I think I should be okay.”

  When Deena reached the water, she let her robe slide slowly down from her shoulders. It seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion. Then, before plunging into the water, she reached up behind her head, arched back her shoulders, and slowly gathered her hair into a short ponytail. She hoped August was watching. It was the real reason she was going swimming.

  After her swim, Deena toweled herself dry then changed into a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved blouse. She left the top two buttons undone.

  Then she waited. It seemed hours before she heard a knock at the screen door.

  “Come on in,” she called.

  “I’m finally finished,” said August, entering the cabin. “I hope I didn’t overstay my welcome.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Deena. “Come in. I’ll put something out for us to eat.”

  While August washed up, Deena set out bread, cheese and olives.

  “Is it too early to offer you a glass of wine?” she asked when August returned from the bathroom.

  “Not at all,” said August. “It sounds great.”

  An hour later, the food was mostly eaten and the bottle of wine was empty. When August excused himself to use the facilities, Deena quickly uncorked a second bottle. She knew what she was doing, but she couldn’t resist. She didn’t want August to go yet.

  When August returned to the table, his glass had been refilled.

  “Tell me,” said Deena, as August sat down and reached for the new glass of wine. “What first got you interested in marine biology?”

  “It was when I was a kid,” said August. “I spent every summer here at the lake. One summer, when I was about twelve, I took up skin diving. It changed my whole world.”

  “Really,” said Deena. “How so?”

  “It was the sixties,” said August. “Space exploration was just beginning. And for some reason, skin diving made me feel like an astronaut – floating around weightless in a strange and alien environment. After being underwater, life on dry land seemed a little dull in comparison.”

  “So – ” said Deena. “In all your dives, what was the most interesting thing you ever found?”

  “Here at the lake?” asked August.

  Deena nodded.

  August gazed out the window. It was dusk now. In the eastern sky, the moon was starting to rise while in the houses on the
far shore lights were just beginning to come on. Deena ignored the fact that one of them was probably Judd’s.

  Deena noticed that August’s eyes seemed glazed and faraway.

  “The most interesting thing I ever found?” he said, repeating Deena’s question. “It was something my father and grandfather had built long before I was even born.”

  “What was it?” asked Deena. “And what was it doing in the lake?”

  “It was a trap – a kind of cage, really,” said August. “My father and grandfather built it to catch a giant snapper. Then they sunk it to the bottom of the lake.”

  “And you found it?” prompted Deena.

  “I did,” said August. “But it wasn’t quite what I expected.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Deena.

  “What I was really looking for were the remains of the snapper – its shell and skeleton. But I didn’t find them. The cage was empty. The only thing in it was an ax.”

  “An ax?” said Deena.

  “Yes,” said August, glancing over toward the fireplace. “That ax, in fact.”

  Deena looked at the ax that hung on two hooks above the mantelpiece.

  “I have to say,” said Deena with a laugh. “It did strike me as a rather odd piece of decor. I mean I could imagine someone hanging up a musket or maybe even a hockey stick – but an ax?”

  “I didn’t hang it for decoration,” said August.

  August got up and walked over to the fireplace. He reached up and ran his thumb along the edge of the blade.

  “Ouch!” he said, pulling his hand away suddenly. “That was dumb! I cut myself.”

  “What were you doing?” asked Deena.

  “Seeing if it was sharp enough,” said August.

  “Sharp enough for what?” asked Deena.

  “You never know,” said August. “For whatever comes up.”

  Chapter 23

  TURTLEBACK LAKE OCTOBER 2006

  Judd Clayton and Chief Rudolph were both shocked to find August Andersen standing behind them at Bonds’.

  For years, August had been a phantom presence in Turtleback Lake. Over the last decade, the Andersen cabin had gone largely unused, even in summertime. A few years back, Judd had run into August in the local hardware store. Though he barely knew him, Judd tried to strike up a conversation, hoping to find out if August might be interested in selling his cabin.

  “Not interested,” said August. “It’s been in the family a long time.”

  “Really?” said Judd. “How long?”

  “Since the twenties,” said August. “My father helped build it when he was a kid – with my grandfather.”

  “Well,” said Judd. “If you’re not interested in selling, what about renting? You rarely ever use the cabin. You could make good money with some summer rentals. I’d handle everything – tenants, payments, cleaning people.”

  “Thanks,” said August. “But no thanks. I’m just not interested.”

  And that had been that – until this past summer.

  August must have changed his mind because he rented the cabin on his own – without a broker. Judd kept an eye on the classified sections of all North Jersey papers and he remembered spotting an ad when he was flipping through The Bergen Record. Even in tiny seven-point type, the headline had popped out: PIECE OF PARADISE.

  Of course the person who ended up renting the cabin turned out to be Deena Goode, the woman who had now thoroughly screwed up Judd’s head and heart.

  Judd had told himself a thousand times that he should just let go. But he couldn’t. For him it hadn’t been a fling. He had really liked Deena. And she had gotten under his skin – way under. The whole thing had been gnawing away at him for months.

  And now the man who Judd suspected of screwing up everything was standing before him, telling Chief Rudolph that he thought he could guess how old the snapper in the lake might be.

  “Well,” said Chief Rudolph. “What’s your estimate?”

  “I’d say close to a hundred,” said August. “Maybe more.”

  “Jeez, August!” burst out Chief Rudolph. “You’re telling me you think this thing’s been in the lake since – what? – before the First World War! That’s a bit of a stretch. How do you figure?”

  August looked Chief Rudolph in the eye.

  “I think it’s the same snapper who bit off my grandfather’s arm and leg eighty years ago.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Chief Rudolph.

  Chief Rudolph could remember August’s grandfather from when he’d been a kid. He could still picture him. It was hard to forget a man who was missing both a hand and a leg.

  “I always figured your Granddaddy lost his limbs working in a plant or fighting in the war. Now you’re telling me a snapper did it – right here in this lake?”

  “It was something my Grandfather never told anybody – except me,” said August. “My grandmother told him to keep his mouth shut or they’d be stuck with a worthless piece of property. Besides –”

  “Besides what?” asked Chief Rudolph.

  “My grandfather thought he’d taken care of the problem.”

  “Taken care of it? How?”

  “Mind if I sit down?” asked August.

  Chief Rudolph nodded at the empty stool to the left of him.

  “Seat’s free,” he said.

  August sat down. The waitress brought over a cup of coffee and poured fresh refills for Judd and the Chief.

  “It all started back in the twenties,” said August. “Back when my grandfather first bought some land up here…”

  At first, Judd could hardly focus on what August was saying. He kept thinking back to the summer. It was August’s brief appearance back in July that had somehow put the kibosh on everything between him and Deena. Judd thought back with shame and anger to the night when he had looked through his telescope and spied on the two of them talking and drinking wine in Andersen’s cabin. At one point, Deena had gone to the windows and lowered the blinds.

  After that, Deena was never the same. She was standoffish and aloof. And by then, he had already put in a good word for her with the school board. His recommendation had definitely given her the inside track on getting the principal job at Turtleback High. And she’d gotten it. And what had he gotten in return? A big fat heartache.

  At some point Judd snapped out of his funk and began listening. In spite of himself, he was riveted by August’s tale. To think that a snapper who had ripped off a man’s hand and leg in the 1920s could still be in the lake. It was absolutely mind-boggling.

  Suddenly the door to Bonds’ swung open. A lanky man in uniform, chief deputy Donald Rhodes, burst into the room.

  “Hey, Chief!” he called. “You better come check out what’s going on.”

  “What is it, Donnie? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “A bunch of guys are down at the boat basin,” said the deputy. “They’re going out onto the lake with gaffs and clubs and spear guns.”

  “What the hell do they think they’re doing?” said Chief Rudolph.

  “They say they’re going to get the snapper themselves,” said Deputy Rhodes. “They said you ain’t doing –”, Deputy Rhodes paused and looked around the room. There were families with children present.

  Chief Rudolph rose from his stool with a groan.

  “I get the message, Donny,” he said. Then he turned back to Judd and August.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen. But I better get down there before things get out of hand.”

  Chief Rudolph strode away leaving an empty stool between Judd and August.

  *

  When Chief Rudolph and deputy Rhodes reached the town dock, an armada of rowboats, canoes, and kayaks had already set sail.

  “Hey, Sully, what the hell is going on here!” called Chief Rudolph.

  Jack Sully was untying the rope that tethered his red canoe to the end of the pier.

  “We’re tired of waiting,” answered Sully. “We’re taking
matters into our own hands.”

  “I’m handling this,” said Chief Rudolph.

  “You’re handling this?” said Sully, his voice full of scorn. “It’s been more than a week since that kicker lost his foot, and more than three since my little girl lost her toe – and what have you done? Put up some No Swimming signs! With all due respect, Chief, that’s like putting up No Smoking signs during a five-alarm fire!”

  “Don’t be a damn fool, Sully. Going out there in rickety little boats with sticks and stones isn’t going to accomplish anything except maybe get somebody else killed or maimed. What are you going to do if this snapper attacks? Hit him with your paddle?”

  “Hell, no, Chief! I’m gonna give him a lot more than a paddling.”

  Sully shoved his canoe away from the dock. Then he reached down and lifted up a double-barreled shotgun.

  “I’m gonna blow the bloody bastard right out of its shell!”

  *

  Jack Sully loved his daughter, but his love wasn’t doing her much good. There were too many other emotions dictating his actions: anger, self-pity, righteous indignation, and poor judgment. Jack also drank too much.

  In the past, most of Jack’s anger had been directed at his wife. After she left him, it spread to include anyone who Jack felt was doing him an injustice. Now he was angry at the whole damn town for doing nothing about his daughter’s attack.

  “If it had been somebody else’s child, you can be sure the lake would’ve been dredged,” he said to anyone who sat on the bar stool next to his. “But not for my little girl.”

  If the guy on the stool next to him said, “They didn’t dredge the lake after Ian Copeland’s attack either,” Jack would simply ignore him. His mind had no available space for counter arguments.

  Now Jack Sully was out on the lake in a canoe. His daughter was home alone, wondering where he was. Usually at this hour she could find him asleep in an armchair with a beer can clutched in his hand and the TV still on. But tonight her father had never even come home.