Sarah Allen: Lost Lake

Bulahdeen leaned against the railing of the steps, out of breath. “I looked.”

“You went into my cabin without my permission?” Selma asked, indignant.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped by Bigfoot.”

“I would have had a better time,” Selma murmured, turning back and slipping the key into the lock.

“If you put ice on that hickey, it’ll go away faster,” Bulahdeen said, climbing the steps and waiting for Selma to open the door.

Selma put her hand on her neck. “Ice on my neck? That’s freezing!”

“That’s why they call it ice.”

“Are you really coming in?” Selma asked.

“Of course.”

“I’m never getting rid of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

Selma walked in and held the door to her cabin open, shaking her head impatiently as Bulahdeen walked inside.

And just before Selma closed the door, she smiled.

From the lake, the alligator watched the house. He watched Wes arrive and walk inside with that girl he had always loved. He watched the beautiful woman walk away with the old woman, and they disappeared down the pathway toward the cabins. The little girl with the glasses was standing at the dining room window. She held her hand up, pressing it against the glass. She was smiling at him.

He floated there with ease, submerged except for his eyes. He was remembering something from long ago, a feeling he used to know, in his life before this. He used to know the name for it, that moment when you know everything is going to be okay. Now it was barely there, on the fringe of his primordial memory.

He wondered if it would ever go away entirely, this sense of two worlds. One day, as he floated here, would he see this place and these people and not recognize them anymore?

One day, maybe.

But not today.

He took one last look at the little girl, then he submerged himself fully into the water and swam away.

In early 2011, I was surprised by a diagnosis of advanced-stage breast cancer. I couldn’t see it then, but that year of horrible change brought me to an amazing place in my life. But I didn’t get there alone.

Thank you to the outstanding doctors and nurses at Hope Cancer Center and Mission Cancer Center. My mom, Louise, and my dad, Zack; Michelle Pittman; Heidi Carmack; Kelby and Hanna; Billy Swilling; Jenn McKinlay and all the Loopy Duetters, Meg Waite Clayton, Kelly Harms Wimmer, Susan McBride, Menna Van Praag, and Lynnie Thieme for the tunes; Tracy Rathbone; Helene Saucedo; Nancy and Sandy Hensley; Debbie Wellmon; Beth Elliott; Stephanie Coleman Chan; Alexandra Saperstein for the Curly-Wurlys; Erin Campbell; the Jarretts; the Hortons; the Gibbs; Dix Creek Chapel; Carolyn Mays and Francesca Best at Hodder; Pat Hoopengarner; Penny Carrell; and all my family, friends, and colleagues who supported me. Jennifer Enderlin and everyone at St. Martin’s Press, for being there when I leapt, because after the year I’d had, I didn’t want to be afraid to do it. It’s been a phenomenal experience. My agent, Andrea Cirillo, and everyone at JRA, for your caring and confidence and all-around awesomeness. Shuana Summers and everyone at Random House. It was a wild, wonderful publishing ride with you. Lastly, my readers, most of whom I have never met, but who were there for me when I was diagnosed in a way I never expected. Your good thoughts, your prayers, your notes, your cards, your gifts came to me at a time when I needed them the most. The fullness of my heart is beyond measure.

I just celebrated my second year in remission.

SARAH ADDISON ALLEN is the New York Times bestselling author of Garden Spells, The Sugar Queen, The Girl Who Chased the Moon, and The Peach Keeper . She was born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. Visit her at www.sarahaddisonallen.com.

Garden Spells

The Sugar Queen

The Girl Who Chased the Moon

The Peach Keeper