Джош Малерман - A House at the Bottom of a Lake

She didn’t have the heart to tell James that his shorts were hanging a little low and she could see the very top of his plumber’s crack.

Plumber’s crack. Hardware store. This made her smile.

“All kinds,” James said, not sure of the answer. “Bass… I think.”

He wanted to tell her there was something magical in this lake. A buried treasure. A mysterious shipwreck. A monster.

He also regretted sitting up front. He couldn’t see her from here.

He turned around to face her.

His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, his fair brown hair wet with sweat from the paddling. And beyond him was the endless blue. But no… not endless. The lake was bordered neatly by the shoreline, the toes of the feet of mountains. And the mountains were covered with trees.

There were many homes at the base of the mountains. A-frames and ranches. Decks where the families no doubt sat outside, drank coffee, watched the sun rise and set on the lake. Amelia wondered what kind of animals lived between the trees. Between the houses.

A boat’s engine revved, and James looked ahead again. Amelia saw a speedboat far to the right, cresting the shoreline as if creating it. Watching the four people in bikinis and briefs on board, she was surprised to find she liked the idea of the canoe better. The green canoe with the brown trim. Old school. She looked to the cooler between them, knew that James had brought some beers. Some sandwiches. It felt so much… classier. Paddling instead of revving. Talking instead of howling. Seeing instead of racing by.

A sudden shrill scream and both James and Amelia saw one of the girls in the speedboat laughing, leaning over the back edge, too close to the motor, flailing her arms toward the wake.

She was drunk. Carefree. Having a blast.

James worried that Amelia might think the speedboat looked like more fun. It did look fun. And here he was sweating in his uncle’s canoe while some other guys with a real boat were making girls scream all over the lake.

He looked over his shoulder, trying to gauge her enthusiasm.

She was beautiful. Just gorgeous. Truly. Her auburn hair looked especially vivid against the backdrop of blue lake behind her. He wasn’t sure exactly where he’d found the nerve to ask her out. He just did it. The canoe, the lake, all of this just came pouring out of him because it was the first fun thing he thought of. And now he needed more nerve. More confidence. Where did it go?

Was she having fun?

James turned away from her, looked ahead again.

Something jumped in the water. James pointed.

“Did you see that?” he called over his shoulder.

“No, but I heard it.”

“That was big. ”

“How big?”

The ripples left behind spread wide.

“I don’t know. Like the size of a loaf of bread?”

Amelia snorted a stifled laugh. Then she snickered. Then she laughed outright.

“The size of a loaf of bread? What the hell does that mean?”

She laughed harder.

James laughed, too.

“I swear. It was like a loaf of rye bread just leapt right out of the water.”

Amelia almost told him that made her hungry. But really it didn’t. It made her think of soggy bread.

Jesus, she thought. You’re just thinking of things to say. And guys notice that! Guys notice when girls are just trying to think of something to say.

James thought, Shit. Those guys in that boat are thrilling the bikinis off those girls and I’m bringing up rye bread. Come on!

Then James ducked to pick something up at his feet and Amelia saw the horizon split by his hunched form. The mountains fanned out on either side of the canoe’s tip. It was incredible.

James popped back up, and between his forefinger and thumb he held a spider.

“A spider!” he said, and Amelia could see it was a big one. Big enough.

She searched the floor near her shoes. Searched the towel she sat on.

“Shit,” she said.

“You don’t like him?”

“No… I mean… it’s not that I don’t like him…”

“Scared of spiders? A little? I’ll get rid of him.”

“No! Where would you put him?”

James looked to either side of the canoe.

“The water?”

“No, no. That’s terrible. I can’t live knowing that he was sent out to sea because of me.”

Can’t live? Out to sea? Amelia felt like everything she said was wrong. Didn’t define her. Didn’t explain her to James.

“Well, shoot. Looks like he stays, then.”

But he wanted to help her. Didn’t want her to be scared. The guys in the speedboat probably killed spiders all day.

“Okay,” Amelia said. “But maybe keep an eye on him for me?”

James set the spider down on the tip of the canoe. He pointed ahead.

“Look there,” he said. “That’s the entrance to the second lake. No homes at all on that one.”

Amelia glanced to a roof jutting from the trees at the base of the mountains. As if it were sinking. Or hiding.

“Sounds cool,” she said.

They paddled toward the second lake.

Amelia didn’t think it was possible—it was, after all, very unlikely—but the second lake was more beautiful than the first.

And more remote.

It was smaller by a third of the size, she guessed, and the shores were so crowded with trees that it appeared there was no land there at all.

Like the water is supported by trees, a lake on stilts.

And the water!

Gorgeous. Not like the tropical beaches she’d seen in pictures, even better than that. The clearest she’d ever seen.

“This is…” she started to say but stopped. She stopped paddling, too. Laid the oar across her legs, rolled up her sleeves, and just saw.

James continued to paddle, but slow, taking it in, too.

Amelia listened to the canoe cut the cool surface, the only sound out here, as if all the fish were sleeping. She caught a reflection in the water, her reflection, her face a rippling disk amid auburn straw.

The green body of the canoe looked like it belonged here, like it was a part of the second lake. Like it was made for it.

She looked ahead, silently thanking James, and saw he had his oar across his legs, too. He was looking to the right, she could see his profile clearly, and she was very glad she’d said yes to his offer.

“You hungry?” James asked, still looking to the right, to the shoreline of heavy trees.

He was hungry. Had been since before they set off. Wanted to show her the lakes first, wanted to wait until they were out here in the middle of the second one. If it turned out they had nothing to talk about? Well, fine. He had food. And if they did have something to talk about, they could talk over lunch.

“Yes,” Amelia said.

James carefully swung his feet over the bench, and Amelia recalled Uncle Bob warning them about tipping. She saw it then, the two of them sprawling into the water, arms out, the canoe sinking, no boats out here to help them. They’d have to swim to shore. They’d lose the cooler, their things.

Facing her now on the bench, James went to his knees and the canoe actually did rock. Amelia gripped the sides. James paused while mid-reach for the cooler.

The canoe stabilized.

They looked at each other. They laughed.

“Sorry,” James said. “That wasn’t very smart.”

“That was close.”

But was it? It was certainly enough to scare her.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“No. Don’t worry. I just imagined us drowning is all.”

Was that a dumb joke?

James felt dumb, too.

“Turkey sandwich?” he asked. “Chips? Water?”

“Sounds good. Sounds like a meal deal.”