The Long Journey to Jake Palmer

by James L. Rubart

  As Ari slipped into a life jacket, then wrestled her feet into the boots of a red and gold wakeboard as she sat on the back of the boat, Jake clambered into the ski boat and adjusted the rearview mirror. His attempt to ignore how perfect Ari looked with her hair pulled back and the sun dancing on her tanned skin failed miserably. He had to knock it off. He wasn’t going there. Forget it.

  “Jake? Hello?”

  Peter was staring at him. “What?”

  “You doing a Walter Mitty on me again? This is like the third time since we got here.”

  “No, just . . .”

  “Then let’s go. Ari is starting to freeze.”

  Jake jerked his head back and found Ari bobbing in the water. He started the boat, adjusted the mirror once more, and called back to Ari. “When you’re ready, just tell me to—”

  “Hit it!” Ari grinned and Jake didn’t hesitate.

  He pushed down halfway on the throttle as he looked in the boat’s rearview mirror. Ari struggled for a few seconds but finally popped out of the water and smoothly shifted her board straight ahead, but her weight was too far forward and she went over the front of the board. Jake shoved the throttle all the way down and turned the wheel hard to the right. The boat whipped around till it faced Ari.

  “You okay?”

  “Stupid move.” She grabbed the rope as it trailed by her. “Ready when you are.”

  She again popped out of the water after fighting for a bit and again went down seconds later, this time because she was leaning too far back.

  Jake wheeled around a second time and when he reached her said, “Do you want to be done?”

  Ari pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. She gazed up at him and shook her head, eyes like coal.

  “Can I give you a thought? Just a quick reminder?”

  Again she didn’t speak, but did give a quick nod.

  “You don’t want the board vertical coming out of the water. You’ll end up pulling against the whole lake that way. Keep it at a forty-five-degree angle. That means the edge of the board will be underwater as you come up, but that’s okay. And don’t try to stand up, let the boat pull you up.”

  Ari nodded again as she stared at the water right in front of her.

  Jake shifted the boat into drive and eased forward slowly till the ski rope went taut. Then he pulled the throttle back into neutral and glanced in the mirror. “Ready?”

  “Hit it!”

  This time Ari went from being immersed in the water to riding on top of it in three seconds.

  “Weight back, weight back . . .,” Jake muttered to himself and Ari complied.

  She leaned to the right and the board sliced over the wake out onto the smooth water. She let go with one hand and brushed her dark hair off her face. The fierce frown she’d worn for the past five minutes slowly turned into a soft smile and Jake flashed a thumbs-up. For the next ten minutes she sailed back and forth across the wake. No tricks, nothing spectacular, but her cuts were smooth and it was obvious the blood of a natural athlete flowed through her veins. A few minutes later she let go of the rope. Her momentum slowed and she sank into the water.

  “Nice run, Ari.” Peter leaned over the edge of the boat and gave her a thumbs-up after they spun around to pick her up.

  Jake cut the motor and said, “More than nice. I wish someone had been taking pictures. A couple of your cuts were beautiful.”

  Ari smiled as she pulled her feet out of the wakeboard and pushed it toward the boat. Peter snagged it out of the water and lifted the board into the boat.

  “My turn,” Camille announced.

  She slipped on a yellow life jacket and then a pair of red waterskiing gloves. By the time Ari clambered back into the boat, Camille had both feet in the board and had laced up the boots.

  Peter glanced at Camille, turned to Jake, and whispered, “Did I miss something, or was the plan to go back to the dock for Susie?”

  “You didn’t miss anything.” Jake stared at the smooth water in front of the boat.

  “Camille?”

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Susie has the next run. Then you.”

  “Look at where we are, Peter.” Camille threw up her hands. “We’re in the middle of the lake. It would take at least five minutes to get back there.”

  “Two.”

  “Five, two, whatever. I’m just thinking it makes sense for me to go on the way back. I promise you, Susie will not care.”

  Peter wore the plastered smile Jake had grown to hate. Once again, Camille was going to do what Camille was going to do. Ten seconds later she bobbed in the lake gripping and regripping the handle of the rope.

  Jake started the boat, eased forward, and called out over his shoulder, “Ready?”

  “I’ve been ready. What are you waiting for? Hit it!”

  Jake gripped the throttle of the boat harder than necessary and pushed it down. The engine surged and Camille popped out of the water. She cut hard to the right and shot over the wake onto the glassy surface of the lake. After a regrip of the handle, she cut back over the wake and launched herself three feet into the air and made a perfect landing on the other side.

  “Wooooooooooo! I’ve still got it!” Camille thrust one arm into the air and grinned.

  For the next ten minutes Camille continued to jump the wake, shift from one foot forward to the other foot forward with little effort, and congratulate herself on each move. The performance was impressive. As they approached the area where they’d started the run, Camille let go of the rope, slowed, and finally sank into the water, both arms thrust above her head.

  Jake cranked the boat to the left and circled back to pick her up.

  “That was a sweet run. Thanks, Jake. Great driving.”

  “No problem.”

  Camille freed herself from the board, swam back to the boat, and climbed aboard. She unbuckled her life jacket, still breathing hard as she stood dripping water onto the floor of the boat. She looked down at Ari and said, “Not bad, huh?”

  Ari nodded.

  “But you were good too.” Camille held out her fist and Ari bumped it with her own but turned her gaze away immediately.

  Peter took Camille’s life jacket and tossed it toward the front of the boat. “Hey, Jake, let’s go grab Susie.”

  “I’m so sorry that took longer than I thought it would.” Camille tapped her head and laughed. “Stupid me, I should have realized I’d stay up for a while.”

  Jake stared at Camille wishing the woman would work on her acting skills. She wasn’t sorry at all. Her behavior would be much easier to take if he could at least doubt what she was doing. He started the boat and turned to Ari.

  “You really looked good out there. How long has it been since you’ve been up on a board?”

  “A few summers back.”

  “Do you wakeboard a lot?”

  “I’ve been a couple of times.”

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know, three or four.” Ari bit her lip and studied the blue carpet on the floor of the boat. “Something like that.”

  “Which is it, three or four?”

  “Three.”

  “Three? You’ve gotta be kidding me. Only three?” Jake frowned and locked his eyes on Camille. “Once you got up, Ari, you looked like you’ve been on a board for years.”

  Ari nodded but didn’t respond.

  “I’d say that’s some amazing natural talent, wouldn’t you, Camille? I think we can say that Ari has got it, and is getting more of it, don’t cha think?”

  Camille tilted her head to the side in disgust, and Jake let it drop.

  A few minutes into their run back to the dock, Ari looked at Jake and said, “Peter didn’t mention you taking a run.”

  “Nah.” Jake forced out a smile. “I’m the designated driver today.”

  “I see.”

  Jake ignored Ari’s penetrating gaze. For the next two and a half hours he drove without looking at her once. At least not head-
on. His peripheral vision wasn’t as cooperative.

  Finally, he and Peter dropped everyone off at the dock, and Jake turned the boat in the direction of the boat launch at the east end of the lake. Peter waited only a few seconds before asking the question Jake had expected all day.

  “You want to take a run, Clark?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Ari’s going to be up at the house, I doubt she’s going to bring out the binoculars and watch you.”

  “I said I’m good.”

  “A quick run. Down at the other end of the lake. West end. We’ll stay there, take you on a lightning-fast run, okay?”

  Jake stared at Peter. “Just between us. We don’t tell anyone about it.”

  “Done.” Peter motioned for Jake to step aside and took the wheel. “You get ready, I’ll get us there. We’ll be back to the boat launch before anyone suspects anything.”

  “Good.”

  “You want to tell me why you don’t want anyone to know if you go for a ski?”

  “Because someone will say how cool it was that I went, then ask if my legs feel okay, and then Ari will have a whole lot of questions that I’d rather not answer.”

  “Got it.”

  Peter threw the throttle down. Four minutes later they reached the end of the lake. Two minutes after that Jake was in the water telling himself what a stupid, glorious idea this was.

  “Hit it!”

  Jake bit down hard on his lower lip and ignored the pain that shot through his legs like a blade. By the time his ski was on plane, both his legs were on fire. Horrible thought but the perfect analogy. He focused on the unbroken water to his right, leaned in, and a second later his ski was skimming over the surface of the lake. He drew a full breath into his lungs and cut back as hard as he could toward the wake. Three quick bumps and he was on the other side getting ready to carve another turn and throw up another wall of water.

  Exhilaration surged through him and masked the pain for a moment, and then another, as he pushed into one turn after the other. He was back. If only for a few minutes, he had returned to the rush of pushing his body to its limit and feeling the joy of streaking across the water at fifty miles an hour. After three more turns the pain in his legs won and he dropped the rope. As he watched Peter slow and circle back toward him, sorrow and joy battled in his heart. The rush of being himself again fought the knowledge that he could only live in his former glory for fleeting moments in time.

  Peter floated up next to him and gazed down, concern etched into his face.

  “You okay?”

  “The spirit is willing and my flesh will be forever weak.”

  “Glad you went?”

  Jake nodded, paddled to the back of the boat, and hoisted himself aboard. His breaths came in gasps and he sat on the swim deck for two minutes before turning and climbing aboard.

  Peter tossed him a towel. “You looked good out there. Like the old days.”

  “Ten turns not even a quarter as low as I used to go isn’t good. It’s pathetic.”

  “But you skied.”

  “Yeah, I did.” Jake couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Thanks for pushing me. I’ll pay for it for the next two days, but it was worth it.”

  As Jake toweled off, his gaze swept over the reeds and rushes and cattails at the end of the lake. A lost corridor. One that would fix everything that was wrong. It was a fantasy too tantalizing for him to continue to contemplate. If only.

  Then it happened. A quick flash of light between the reeds, so fast he wondered if he’d imagined it. Then again. Once more and it didn’t come again. But each time, something jolted deep in Jake’s soul, and his heart started pounding faster than when he’d been out ripping up the lake.

  “What are you looking at?”

  Jake sucked in a quick breath, his eyes fixed on the spot he’d seen a shimmer.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah.” He turned and blinked at Peter.

  “You sure you’re okay, Clark? You’re doing the ghost look. And you’re about ten shades lighter than normal. What? Are you in pain? What?”

  “Nothing.” Jake put the towel over his head and rubbed his hair dry. “Probably just the shock of getting back up after so long. My heart loves it, not so much my legs.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t have to hide it from me, Jake.”

  “Hide what?” Jake took the towel off his head.

  “The corridor. Susie told me.”

  “It’s a pipe dream.”

  “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. What did you see? Just now,” Peter said.

  “Just the light reflected off the water, playing on the reeds. That’s it.”

  “Let’s look for it together. Get up early tomorrow before anyone else is awake and find it this time.”

  No point in mentioning he’d already searched a second time on his own. “No. If God wanted me to find it, I would have the first time.”

  “Maybe you have to work for it. Maybe it’s not going to come easy.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong.”

  “Was I right about the skiing?”

  “You were wrong about inviting Ari.”

  “The week isn’t over yet, pal.”

  18

  After dinner that night, Jake escaped to the fire-pit alcove down at the lake. When he arrived at the chairs that looked out on the water, he spotted an old tin can half-hidden behind a clump of grass and plucked it off the ground. He set it eight or nine feet in front of his chair, picked up a handful of tiny pebbles, and slumped into the chair. First toss a miss. Same the second. Third hit the side of the can. Fourth? A complete miss. Fifth, the tiny stone hit the back of the can and dropped in.

  A moment after Jake sank his third stone, the rustle of leaves and branches lifted his head. He squinted into the fading light to see who was coming to shatter his solitude. Ari. Not again. Wasn’t there anyone else this woman could talk to?

  “It looks like we both like the same spot.”

  “Apparently.” Jake tossed another stone toward the can. Didn’t come close.

  “Nice throw.”

  Jake nodded and plastered a thin smile on his face.

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m only here because the couples are getting couplely. I’m not interested in a relationship.”

  Jake puffed out a laugh. “Stop reading my mind, it’s disturbing.”

  “No, not a mind reader.” Ari smiled and sat on the arm of the chair next to him. “Just somewhat astute at reading the extremely obvious. How could anyone miss it, the expressions that fly off your face every moment I’m around you? The way you often find something you have to do when I walk into the room?”

  He scrunched up his face. “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  “I thought my Switzerland impression was YouTube-worthy. Viral potential, you know?”

  “Not quite. It’s more like the North Pole.” She smiled. “I’m not taking it personally. Should I?”

  “Nope. Not for a second. I’m just in the same spot it sounds like you are. Not really interested in getting involved with anyone right now. That’s all.”

  “I won’t take much of your time.”

  “Good.”

  Ari laughed and Jake joined her. Did she know he was only half-kidding, that half of him wanted her to leave immediately and the other half wished she’d stay forever?

  “I just wanted to tell you a couple of things,” Ari said. “First, I’ve decided I’m going to stay at least a few more days. Maybe the whole time.”

  “Oh?”

  “I can tell you’re excited.”

  Jake’s face heated up. “No, I’m just . . . it’s just that—”

  “It’s okay, Jake. I get it. Like I said, I know it’s not personal. The other thing is, I simply wanted to say thanks for today out on the water. You made it easier to handle.”

  “It wasn’t anything.” Jake leaned forward and picked up a
nother handful of pebbles. “Camille and I aren’t the best of friends, so when she starts doing her ‘I’m better than you so let me put you in your place’ thing, it doesn’t take much to get me going.”

  Ari held out her hand palm up, and Jake stared at it. Five seconds. Ten. She didn’t move, and he finally spilled half his tiny stones into her palm.

  “Thank you.” She tossed her first rock and it pinged off the side of the can. The second one went in. So did the third. “Do you mind me asking why you’re not friends? I thought all of you were lifelong buddies.”

  Jake sighed. Did he really want to get into this with a complete stranger? Yes. No. He looked into Ari’s inviting eyes, found himself slipping into them, and yanked himself back out.

  “No. We’re not.” Jake turned back to tossing pebbles at the can.

  “Okay.” Ari stood and started to shuffle away.

  “Camille was, is, one of my ex’s best friends. I never thought Peter should marry her in the first place, but he did. When the four of us started hanging out, she and my ex-wife took to each other immediately.”

  “Which makes having her here extremely awkward.”

  “Yes.” Jake motioned toward the chair and Ari returned to it. “And last year when we were here, she defended Sienna’s decision to divorce me, said some things to me that would even shock people on those smutty relationship TV shows. That did nothing to make me feel more chummy toward her.”

  “I see.”

  “You want to sit?”

  Ari sat again on the arm of the chair. She watched Jake toss his pebbles at the can and occasionally threw one of her own. She was better, but he didn’t care. The part of him that liked having her there was winning.

  “I know Camille,” Ari said in a voice so soft Jake almost missed it.

  “What?” He frowned at her.

  “Not like you think I mean. Not the Camille up there at the house, the Camille I lived with growing up.”

  “Sister?”

  “Mom.” Ari shifted on the armrest and stared at the ground in front of the chair. “My mom always had to win. Everything. I’ve been competing with her my whole life, so when Camille got out there on that board today, a lot of the old feelings came back.”