Snapper (22 page)

The wet clumps kept plopping down around her, like cow pads in a field.

Then suddenly somebody startled her.

“I see you’ve got a helper,” said a voice from behind.

Deena spun around, making sure not to let go of the ladder she was holding for JJ.

“Oh, hi,” said Deena. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” said August.

Deena nodded up toward JJ.

“Do you know JJ?” she asked. “Judd Clayton’s son.”

August shook his head.

Deena called up to JJ.

“JJ,” she said. “I don’t know if you’ve met my neighbor. This is Mister August Andersen.”

“No, I don’t think we’ve ever met,” said JJ, calling down from the top of the ladder. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Andersen.”

“Nice to meet you, too, son,” said August.

As they were introducing themselves, Deena looked back and forth between the two. Suddenly it struck her who JJ looked like
–
he looked just like August! It was strange and inexplicable, but the resemblance was undeniable.

Then as Deena looked at them, both August and JJ winced and clutched their stomachs. Then, in unison, they turned and looked toward the lake.

* * * *

Things just weren’t happening with August.

After the big game, he had driven Deena home. But when they pulled up in front of her bungalow, August simply thanked her for a nice time and then wished her a good night. Deena’s fantasy for the evening – the two of them curled up in front of the fire – went
poof!
She didn’t even feel right inviting him over for dinner – so she didn’t.

That night, she left the blinds to her bathroom window open. With the trees now bare, August would be able to see her lighted window clearly from his cabin. And if he happened to catch a glimpse of her as she was getting into the shower – or toweling herself dry afterward – what harm was there in that? It might just stoke some embers. As she lathered herself in the shower, Deena had fantasized that August wouldn’t even bother to call. He’d stalk through the woods and come to her door like a hungry wolf. She imagined the urgent, insistent banging on her door: let me in, let me in, or I’ll blow your house down.

If only
, she thought.

But no knocks came that night or in the nights that followed.

Now, a week later, her gutters were clean and her house was shaping up nicely, but it looked like she’d be spending another Saturday night home alone. It seemed as if August’s brief morning visit was all she was going to get.

Deena poured herself a glass of wine and curled up in an armchair by the window. She opened a book she’d had for years, but never read:
Jaws
by Peter Benchley. Of course she’d seen the movie, but didn’t they always say that the book was usually better? Deena sighed and started to read. If she had to be alone, at least it was a good night for a thriller.

The crisp clear afternoon had given way to a night of howling wind and slashing rain. The boughs of the trees shook like pompoms while the tips of branches scraped, scratched, and knocked against the clapboard sides of Deena’s bungalow. Amid the clatter, Deena didn’t hear the urgent knocking at her door. But then, as it grew louder and harder, she did. Her heart leaped. She wasn’t frightened. She was sure that August had finally come!

Deena tossed
Jaws
aside. The book fell closed to the floor. She didn’t care about losing her place. She rose from her chair and went to the mirror in the front hall. She pushed back a lock of wavy black hair that had fallen across her face. Then she reached for the front door’s dull brass knob and turned it. Her heart was beating wildly. She pulled the door open.

There, in the cone of light that shone down from the naked bulb above, stood Judd Clayton.

“I know I should’ve called,” he said. “But I knew what you would say.”

Judd was dripping wet. It wasn’t just raining now; it was pouring. If she asked him in, he’d make a big puddle on the floor. But she felt she had no choice.

“You’re completely drenched, Judd,” she said. “Come on in.”

As Judd stepped through the narrow doorway, Deena could smell his breath.

“You’ve been drinking, Judd. Did you drive here?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s a long walk on a night like this.”

Judd’s clothes were soaked through. The rain outside was now falling in sheets. Somewhere on the far side of the deluge a full moon hid behind a mountain of black clouds.

Deena shook her head at the sight of Judd.

“We’re going to have to get you out of those wet things,” she said.

Judd started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Whoa, there, partner,” said Deena. “You can change in the bathroom.”

Deena looked down at the widening puddle on the floor. “You’re dripping all over,” she said. “Go and get those things off. I’ll get you something to change into.”

As she looked for something that Judd could wear, Deena thought about August. What if he looked out his window now – and saw a man undressing in her bathroom? It was entirely possible. The blinds were still open. And who knows – maybe it would be good. Maybe it would stir up a little jealousy in August.

Deena knocked on the bathroom door.

“You can put this on while your clothes are drying,” she said, handing Judd a white terry cloth robe through the crack in the door.

Judd handed Deena a balled-up wad of dripping wet clothes. She had to wring them out over the kitchen sink, item by item. Otherwise they’d take forever to dry. Deena wanted to keep Judd’s visit as brief as possible. Ever since their summer dalliance, she’d done a good job of keeping him at a distance. She didn’t want anything to change now.

“Sit down,” she said to Judd, once his clothes were tumbling in the dryer. “Have some coffee.”

Judd pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

Coffee, he thought. He remembered spying on Deena and August as they put away two bottles of wine in the summer. Wine leads to one thing, he thought, coffee leads to another – nothing.

Then again, they had gone to Bond’s for a cup of coffee the day they met.

“Coffee sounds great,” said Judd, trying to mask his disappointment.

After she’d poured him a cup, Deena sat down across the table. Judd noted that she was having wine.

“You know, Deena, it’s not easy being a single dad,” said Judd.

“I imagine it’s not,” said Deena.

When Judd didn’t go on, Deena had to say something. “You know, you never told me why your wife left.”

“It’s a painful subject,” said Judd.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” said Deena.

“No,” said Judd. “You’re not prying. I want you to know.”

Judd took a sip of his coffee. Deena sipped her wine.

“The whole story is this,” said Judd. “One day, when JJ was still just a baby in diapers, she left.”

“That’s it?” said Deena.

“That’s it,” said Judd. “The whole tragic tale.”

“But why?” asked Deena. “Why did she leave?”

“That’s what’s so painful,” said Judd. “I have no idea. She never said. One day she just said, ‘I’m sorry, but this can’t go on any longer. I’m leaving.’”

“And then what?” asked Deena.

“Then she just left me – me and JJ. She didn’t take a thing with her. And she didn’t offer a word of explanation. It’s been a hard thing to live with.”

“But you must have some idea,” said Deena. “There had to be something wrong.”

“Things had been okay,” said Judd. “Or so I thought – until JJ was born. The strange thing was, instead of loving the baby, she seemed almost repelled by him. She didn’t want to hold him or change him or feed him. It was like the sight of him filled her with disgust. I couldn’t understand it. But if that’s the way she felt, I guess it’s actually good that she left. But it hasn’t been easy.”

“I can see why,” said Deena. “But you should be proud. JJ’s a wonderful boy.”

“Thanks,” said Judd. “He’s been my whole life. But maybe now you can understand. When a woman leaves you like that, it leaves a big hole inside you.”

“I do understand,” said Deena.

In the silence that followed, Deena heard the clothes in the dryer stop tumbling. They should be dry.

“That’s why – this summer,” said Judd. “Well, it really meant something to me.”

“I’m sorry about that, Judd,” said Deena. “I really am. We shouldn’t have done what we did – and it’s my fault. And then you did me such a favor – helping me get this new job. I feel terrible.”

“But why can’t we –”

Deena cut Judd off.

“We just can’t,” said Deena. “There’s somebody else I have those kind of feelings for. But I hope we can remain friends.”

The word
‘friends’
did it.

“Remain friends!” snapped Judd. “When were we ever friends?”

“Well,” said Deena. “Maybe I should’ve said, ‘I hope we can become friends.’”

“Friends – after what we did together?” said Judd. “I’m sorry, Deena, but I don’t think I can stand the downgrade.”

Judd rose suddenly. The legs of his chair scraped the wood floor beneath him. He cinched the terry cloth belt that was doing such a poor job of keeping him decent.

Judd lurched toward the door, stopping only to slip his bare feet back into the topsiders that Deena had propped up against a baseboard heater. They were now stiff, hot, and dry. Judd jerked open the door.

“Judd!” cried Deena. “You can’t go out that way. Sit back down and I’ll get you your clothes!”

But Judd was like a charging bull. There was no turning back. He stormed through the open door and stomped down the slippery slope toward the lakeshore. His kayak was stowed in the bushes.

Earlier in the night, when he had first set out to cross the lake, Judd had thought of himself as Washington crossing the Delaware. But now the whole thing was a fiasco. What had he been thinking? He must have been out of his mind! And now he had to paddle all the way back. Thank God the rain and wind had begun to relent. Judd pushed the kayak off from shore, climbed in, and started paddling.

As the rain slackened, the moon found a hole in the ragged clouds above and began shining through.

At least there’d be moonlight for Judd to see by.

*

Far below the lake’s choppy, white-capped surface, Grundel was navigating the twisting labyrinth that snaked through the mountain that the world knew only as Turtleback Rock. Grundel’s lair was a cavity deep within that underwater mountain. August had come perilously close to discovering it on his first outing. He’d turned around just a bit too soon.

Now, Grundel was feeling a strong stirring in his gut. Something was drawing him out – and he knew what it was. It was his master calling. And Grundel’s master was the moon – that not-so-inert rock in the sky that was even now peeking through the clouds at a foolish little man kayaking across the lake.

Judd was a good distance from shore when the wind suddenly picked up again. Moments later fresh torrents of rain began to fall. The moon slipped back behind the clouds. The brief intermission that had lured Judd into a false sense of security was over. Act two had begun.

Judd paddled frantically, but he couldn’t control where he was going. He was no longer crossing the lake toward the eastern shore. Now he was being swept swiftly and inexorably southward, toward the once-white rock in the middle of the lake.

Judd cursed himself. What an ass he was! He was a father with a son to care for. But what had he done? He’d drunk too much and acted like a lovesick fool. Now he was going to have to pay the price.

His cries for help were pointless. The howling wind made a mockery of Judd’s puny human voice. His desperate cries were drowned out as completely as the lake would soon drown him.

“I’m so sorry, JJ!” he wept.

The tears that coursed down his face, mixed with the cold wet rain, were not about the imminence of his death. They were for failing his son. First the boy had no mother. Now he’d have no dad.

Judd’s kayak was now pinwheeling across the lake. First it spun in one direction then it whipped back in the exact opposite. Judd slapped and stabbed at the waves with his paddle, but it was no more use than a teaspoon. Meanwhile the wind and waves battered him like a heavyweight boxer going in for the knockout.

The heavens were against him – and so was hell.

Grundel was now emerging from the mouth of his cave. He sensed something in the water above. He began his ascent.

As he neared the surface, Grundel spotted the hull of a tiny craft just above him. His neck stiffened like a battering ram. He would tear through that hull like it was wet toilet paper.

*

Deena had a bad feeling.

Judd’s departure was rash and stupid. Was he going to walk all the way home in the wind and rain in a terry cloth robe? Judd was a grown man; he was responsible for his actions, yet Deena couldn’t stop thinking that she should be doing something – and doing it before it was too late.