Lake of Secrets Page 8

  I set the food down and run to the edge. “Ian? Are you all right?”

  Ian is sputtering but grinning. “My peace offering to end the conflict.”

  “Yes, I agree. The gift is Ian’s peace offering. Not Isaac’s.” I stick my tongue out at Isaac to show him whose side I am on.

  Ian cackles in delight.

  Isaac swims over to me. “Will you help us back up?” He extends his hand.

  “All right, but no pulling me in. I actually did my hair this morning.”

  I reach for his hand and grab it. Isaac yanks as I scream. I fall into the water with a dreadful splat. The water is thick with weeds, and it pulls at me. A shock of cold water slams into me, taking my breath away. When I come up, I’m coughing and sputtering for the second time today.

  Isaac and Ian find it quite funny. But I’m shivering.

  “I can’t believe you fell for that,” Isaac laughs.

  “I trusted you,” I say, forcing myself not to spook again. It’s only cold water. I splash Isaac. “Now my stomach hurts because I belly-flopped. Not to mention my hair!”

  They both find it amusing, so I splash both of them. When that doesn’t work, I attack.

  I lunge for Isaac and shove him under, but he’s deft. He has me in his arms and under the water in seconds. Ian comes to my rescue, and we dunk Isaac together. When we all break the surface, we’re panting and laughing, and yes, I’ll admit it, even with the seaweed and the spooky vibes, I’m having a riot.

  Ian swims away from us out toward the middle of the lake. “Come on, guys. How far can you swim?”

  Is that okay?” I ask, still trying to gather my breath.

  “He’s fine,” Isaac says, just as breathlessly. “We’ve been swimming this lake since we were boys. He’s probably a better swimmer than I am.” He swims closer to me, and my nerves are all aflutter. “How’s your stomach? You had quite a belly-flop.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  “Sorry. I only wanted you in the water with us.”

  I smile because I can’t help it. He makes my toes tingle and my stomach flip and my heart tremble. “It’s refreshing.”

  “Can you swim deep? We could swim out a little.”

  But I’m not really hearing him. I’m too busy looking at the water drops running down his chest.

  “Virginia?”

  I turn so fast, I lose my balance and half-fall in the water. Isaac catches me until I’m upright again.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Gran stands beside him, and she doesn’t look too pleased either. “This is not a swimming lake.” She speaks before Dad does. “You need to get out of the water.”

  Dad still hasn’t spoken. He keeps his eyes on Isaac. “Don’t make me not like you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dad, it’s not like that. We are swimming.”

  “You need to come out of the water,” Gran repeats. “You promised you wouldn’t go in it.”

  “It sort of happened, Gran, but I’m fine.” My teeth began to chatter.

  Dad keeps eyeing Isaac. Gran’s watching me. Soon Ian splashes over to us.

  “I thought you guys were going swimming?” Ian asks.

  “We are,” Isaac says. “It’s good seeing you, Mr. Paxton.” He turns and swims out toward the deeper water.

  I move toward the shore, officially grossed out by the water. “You’re right, Gran. The weeds are thick.”

  “And leeches.” She pointed at my feet.

  Sure enough, three leeches are attached to my feet. Two at the toes, and one at the ankle. Scientist’s daughter or not, this disgusts me. “Get them off, Dad.”

  But Dad has actually knelt down to inspect them. “Will you look at that? How fascinating.”

  “Dad!”

  “I’ll get some salt, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Gran leaves us for the house.

  “Look, Virginia. These leeches have the same markings on them that the beetle does.”

  “They look like nasty leeches to me. We don’t have to investigate every creature, Dad.”

  Dad goes to flick one off my ankle, and it easily falls away. “That’s not a leech.” Dad flicks the other two off.

  “Are those beetles?”

  “What are they doing underwater?”

  All three are moving back toward the water.

  Chills erupt all over my skin, and I nearly have a meltdown. I shake myself and swipe at my arms and legs. “Are there any more?”

  Dad looks me over. “I don’t see any. By the way, I came down here to let you know I’m going into town. I’m meeting someone for lunch. Would you like to come with me?”

  “No, I’m good. Who are you going out to lunch with?”

  “Just an old friend.”

  “An old friend? Ain’t that just fine,” I mutter and head to the dock where I can watch Ian and Isaac swim. I still feel the willies after those bugs on me. I shake out my hair and braid it.

  “Wait,” Dad calls out. “What does ‘fine’ mean?”

  “It means fine. As in whatever you say.”

  “You act like you’re upset.”

  “Dad, you sent me packing to another continent telling me my Gran’s on death’s door, and she seems pretty healthy to me. And now, you’re going out to lunch with a friend. I’m glad you’re enjoying your vacation.”

  “I invited you to mass. You went hiking all day instead, remember?”

  “Fine.”

  “And I invited you to lunch.”

  “Fine.”

  “Stop saying ‘fine’.”

  “Okay. Whatever.”

  Isaac and Ian swim to the dock and climb onto it.

  “Check for leeches. Or beetles. I had three on me.”

  “They’re harmless,” Isaac says and scans his legs and Ian’s.

  Ian has two between his toes, but Isaac has none.

  “Here’s the salt!” Gran yells from the end of the dock.

  I bend over to study the leech, and it doesn’t look like a beetle at all. “This is a leech.”

  “Of course, it is.” Ian walks past me, takes the salt from Gran, and pours it on his toes.

  “Do you need the salt?” Gran asks me.

  “I didn’t have leeches. They were beetles.”

  Gran frowns but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she heads back to the house.

  “How would beetles survive in the water?” Isaac asks.

  “I have no idea. There’s a lot about this place that is confusing.”

  “Let’s snack on some of that food we brought.” Isaac goes to the bag and sits down beside it.

  “The food I brought,” Ian clarifies.

  “What makes you think I’ll share?” I take the bag from both of them and start rifling through it.

  Isaac smirks. “You’ll share or you’ll get thrown in the water.”

  “No, thank you.” I shiver just thinking about it. Gran’s right. No more lake for me.

  “One person cannot eat all that food,” Ian states matter-of-factly, not paying attention to us. “Unless that person was used to eating several thousand calories in one sitting, which isn’t the case here. A body wouldn’t know what to do with it. You definitely would get sick.”

  “I’m going to share, Ian. I was just teasing.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Ian says again and sits on my other side.

  “Sorry about earlier,” Isaac says quietly.

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t know what my Dad was doing, other than embarrassing me.”

  “He was being a protective father. Nothing wrong with that.”

  I lean back and pretend to scrutinize Isaac. “Are you a pothead or coke addict or do you punch little children or steal their candy?”

  Isaac does not hide his confusion. “No…why?”

  “Because you’re too nice. What kind of guy sides with the girl’s Dad? No guy I’ve ever met.”

  Now Isaac laughs. “I sometimes pull my dog’s tail,” he mockingly confesses
. “And I always eat the last bite of everything…without even asking. And I drink from the juice containers and put them back in the refrigerator.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Still, he makes me smile.

  Ian hands me a drumstick. “Don’t worry. It’s still good. It’s been in a Tupperware container with a cooling pack to keep the chicken fresh. You have to think about these things. Getting salmonella poisoning is not good. People die from it.”

  “Don’t spoil our lunch,” Isaac reaches for a fried chicken breast.

  “It’s not spoiled. That’s what I’m saying. I put the chicken in a Tupperware container with a cooling pack.” Ian sighs in exasperation. “You need to listen.”

  “Okay, okay,” Isaac jokes. “Have you ever eaten a Nutty Bar?” He hands over a package with two chocolate bars. “It’s chocolate and wafers and peanut butter. Basically, it’s heaven.”

  I set my unfinished chicken leg down, open the plastic wrap, and take a bite. “These are amazing.”

  “I eat one layer at a time,” Ian says. “That way it lasts longer.”

  So, I follow his suggestion with the second one. Then I have to force myself not to grab another package and devour it, as well. I’m thankful that I’m still wearing my swim cover-up, even if it got wet.

  “Now for Vernors.” Isaac hands me an opened can. “I know for a fact you don’t have this over there. Not even all of the states have it here.”

  “It tickles my nose.” I laugh and take a sip. “It’s Ginger Ale.”

  “It’s better than Ginger Ale. It’s Vernors.” Isaac opens another can and takes a long drink.

  We sit on the dock and finish our sodas and chicken, then open the Bazooka Joe gum package and have a piece. The brothers are funny, and I find it sweet that they’re so close, even if they tease each other. I glance over at Isaac, who is currently wrestling Ian for the Pringles, and realize how much I like him. He takes the edge off homesickness.

  “I’ve got to go.” Isaac stands up. “They need me at the Golf Pro shop this afternoon.”

  “Me, too,” Ian says. “I don’t work in the Golf Pro Shop, but sometimes they call me to be a caddy.”

  “Do you golf?” Isaac asks me.

  “No.”

  “I’ll have to take you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And me,” Ian pipes in. “I’ll take you, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey,” Ian says and jumps in the rowboat. “We should row this to the beach across from our house, so we don’t have to walk all around the lake to get back home.”

  “You walked over to my house?”

  “I jogged.” Isaac shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to drive a car over here when it’s only a mile away.”

  “You did last night.”

  “I was thinking of the time last night.” He stuffs the food in the bag and sets it on the lounger. “Let’s go row, row, row the boat.”

  A boat is safe, I reasoned and piled in the boat after Isaac. Ian unties it from the dock. Isaac rows, and it’s all I can do to not stare at his muscles straining against the shirt he threw on. So, instead, I play thumb war with Ian. Or, I try to.

  “You’re cheating!” Ian says as I try to pull my thumb out of his grasp. “Isaac, Ginnie’s a cheater!”

  What I don’t expect is Isaac asking Ian to switch with him. The boat wobbles as they move. Ian starts rowing and Isaac sits across from me and holds out his hand. “Trying cheating with me.” He has a twinkle in his eye.

  “I didn’t know I was cheating,” I defend myself. “I was trying to get away from his thumb! Isn’t that the point of the game?”

  “You have to hold hands the entire time. And no standing up to maneuver a better advantage.”

  I grab his hand, and our fingers interlock together with our thumbs ready for battle. The strength and warmth of his hand are distracting, but I focus enough to chant with him, “One-two-three-four, we’re gonna start a thumb war.”

  He beats me four times in a row.

  “Help,” Ian says.

  We glance up and see Ian straining against the oars.

  “Why are you rowing this way?” Isaac asks and switches places with Ian.

  “I tried not to.” Ian is panting, and his face is red and sweating. “The boat wouldn’t turn.”

  Isaac is paddling with such intensity, his forehead has broken into a sweat, too.

  The boat keeps moving in the same direction.

  “Stop paddling,” I say. “You need to catch your breath.”

  Isaac stops. “What is going on? It’s like something’s dragging us along.”

  My stomach drops to my feet. Now that neither guy is paddling, I can feel the pull of the boat toward the shore.

  The three of us look at each other and don’t say anything.

  Finally, Isaac says, “Well, at least the current is taking us back to shore. Even if it is out of the way.”

  “Do we have a cell phone?” I ask. “I left mine on the deck.”

  “Yes, I’ve got mine. I’ll call Mom and have her meet us here.” Isaac smiles reassuringly to Ian.

  While Isaac talks to his mother, Ian’s frown deepens. “You forgot your phone yesterday, too.”

  “I know. I’m forgettable sometimes. But don’t worry. Your Mum will pick you up once we get to shore.”

  Isaac ends the call. “She’s going to meet us at the north boat launch. It seems that’s where the current is taking us. Or at least close enough to it.”

  “There’s not this strong of a current in the lake,” Ian argues.

  “That’s what it has to be,” Isaac says. “Because nothing else makes sense.” He tries one more time to maneuver the boat, but it’s pointless. The three of us try to paddle together with Ian on one side of Isaac and me on the other. Then I feel the force pulling us, and I let go of the paddle.

  I swallow the lump in my throat, sit back down, and grip the sides of the boat. Whatever is dragging us to the shore is not going to change its mind.

  11

  “There’s nothing here,” I say as Isaac hops out and into the shallow water where he drags the boat to shore.

  “I know. It’s weird. I’ll have to tell my Dad about the current. He might know something about it.”

  He helps me down, and we wait for Ian.

  Ian is unusually quiet and looks like he’s unsure as to whether or not to get out of the boat. “That was not a current.” Ian has repeated that same sentence at least a dozen times.

  “Until we learn more, let’s just say that it is,” I say, more for my benefit than for his.

  Isaac shakes his head and laughs, calling us both “crazy”, but I see the questions behind his eyes, too.

  Once Ian steps out of the boat, we stand on the shore and look forward. Other than overgrown vegetation and a steep dirt wall, there is nothing here.

  “This is the same spot I saw you hanging from a tree,” Ian says and steps forward pointing toward a tree, looming over us.

  I take a quick look around the lake and wonder if Ian could be right. Then again, so far Ian has been right with just about everything.

  “Let’s grab some tree roots and climb up. Then we can head to our house,” Isaac says. “I’ll call Mom. We’re closer to our house here than to the boat launch.”

  We walk to the incline. I grab some roots and try to pull myself up, but I’m still only wearing my bathing suit and cover, which means dirt and debris are getting everywhere. I drop my hands and step back, brushing the dirt off of me.

  “I’ll climb up,” Isaac says. “Then I can reach down and pull you up, too. How’s that sound?”

  I nod and wipe at my foot, where a bug landed. I take a second look, and my stomach lurches.

  It’s one of the beetles, and it keeps trying to climb up my leg.

  Not again.

  “Hurry!” I cry and rush back to the dirt wall. I grab a root and decide I’m not waiting a se
cond longer. I pull myself up and force myself not to think about the dirt and debris. Halfway up, another beetle crawls on my hand.

  I shake it off and force the scream back down my throat. I refuse to act like a nutcase again.

  Isaac is up the incline now and holding his hand out to me. “Just climb a little more and grab on. Ian, a little help, please?”

  I glance down and Ian is staring at something to my right. I turn my head to the right and see the line of beetles crawling down the dirt wall to something under the debris at the bottom of the incline.

  “Come on, Ian!” He snaps his head up and rushes to the wall.

  Goosebumps have erupted all over my skin.

  Another beetle crawls over my hand. I grit my teeth, trying to hold on with one arm. Then I feel one crawl on my ankle.

  Just like my dream!

  Isaac’s reaching as far as he can, but I can’t shake these beetles off of me. I hear Ian climbing beside me.

  Another beetle crawls over my other hand. By now I’m hitting, swiping, kicking, and then snap.

  The tree root breaks, and I plummet down.

  Isaac yells my name.

  I fall on my back with a thud, smashing something underneath me. The beetles are everywhere. It might not be as bad in my dream, but close enough. I stand and start rubbing my body to get everything—visible and invisible—off of me.

  That’s when I notice the hand.

  I stop and stare at it, telling myself it’s not there. But it is.

  It’s a skeletal hand and arm, and it’s connected to something under the debris.

  That is when I forget everything about acting like a crazy person, and I scream.

  Isaac and Ian have come back down. I hear Isaac say, “Oh, sweet Jesus.”

  Ian gasps and releases a whimper, and then walks backward, away from whatever—or whoever—is under the leaves and beetles. I stay close beside him, wanting to be far away, as well.

  Isaac comes over to us. “It’s okay. I mean, it’ll be okay. We’ll call the police.”

  I cover my mouth, to keep from throwing up, and to contain my sob.

  “It’s old,” Ian says. “Probably surfaced because the lake levels are low.”

  Isaac takes out his phone, tries to make a call, and then sighs. “No signal here. We had signal on the boat.”

  “Let’s try to take the boat back to our dock. Maybe…the current…isn’t as intense.” I don’t believe my words, but it’s better than standing on shore with a dead body a stone’s throw away.