Scenic
The lake never looked prettier.
(It was really a reservoir, he had never called it that, no one ever had; it was always just The Lake, and no one ever called it anything different, you even got funny looks if you called it the reservoir unless you were older than dirt)
It was man-made and you could still tell where the people that made it had planted trees around the edge, but other trees had grown there and messed up the landscaping.
There were a few little gravel spots that led off the little gravel road that wound around the whole lake for people to park.
He parked in the same one they had parked in four months ago; he had been driving but not this car, Craig’s car, a nicer one.
You could see the lake from where he parked and he liked that, liked it enough to get out and go sit on the grass further down the hill.
The sun was high, hot, away from just above him, on the two oclock side, and he realized with a pang he should be graduating right now.
Not that it really mattered. He could go wherever he wanted, Craig told him, he didn’t need a diploma, they would go wherever they wanted.
He looked out over the lake, watched the water glimmer and shine and glitter and wondered why there were no boats out before he figured out it was two o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone was at work or school.
He didn’t really remember why he came out here, something about a bottle—
“Hey baby.”
He stood quick and whipped around, staring around for the voice it’s so familiar and sweet it hurts—
“Craig.”
He’s sitting on the hood of the car with his legs crossed and his feet barely brushing the gravel.
“You left,” he says, and Craig doesn’t act like he hears at all.
“You remember this spot?” he says instead and looks around, like he’s living the memory now. “You were so good.”
“You left, Craig. Why’d you have to go and leave me like that?”
Craig stands up and crosses his arms now instead of his legs. “You told me you were gonna come with me, Andy. You promise but you stayed here in fuckin little Capote Kansas.” He says it kay-pote even though he knows that’s not how you say it, it’s cuh-po-tee like the author.
“I didn’t promise nothin’,” and Andy sounds almost pouty, mulish almost.
“Well you didn’t break your promise all the way at least did you Andy?”
“I didn’t?”
“Nope.” Craig leaned in and he still smells like he always did, smokes and chamomile and soap. “You remember?”
Andy thinks for a few seconds and he thinks hard and you can see it on his face. “Nope.”
Craig smiles and all of Andy’s bad feelings are gone because it’s a good smile, a Craig smile and it makes him feel warm and good inside. “Look out there, baby.”
He points to the lake and Andy looks and it’s him except it’s not him because he’s him.
“I told you, didn’t I? Quick and easy as falling asleep.”
Andy looks back at him and understands now. “Oh.”
Craig smiles again and this one’s gentler. “Come on.”
“You’ll be there?”
“Yeah.”
Andy’s eyes narrow and he knows Craig likes playing jokes. “You promise, Craig?”
Craig laughs that full barking laugh and Andy smiles, reassured. “I promise, baby.”
Craig holds out a hand. “Now come on.”
And Andy takes his hand, and all that’s left is the body and the car and the lake that never looked prettier.
(It was really a reservoir, he had never called it that, no one ever had; it was always just The Lake, and no one ever called it anything different, you even got funny looks if you called it the reservoir unless you were older than dirt)
It was man-made and you could still tell where the people that made it had planted trees around the edge, but other trees had grown there and messed up the landscaping.
There were a few little gravel spots that led off the little gravel road that wound around the whole lake for people to park.
He parked in the same one they had parked in four months ago; he had been driving but not this car, Craig’s car, a nicer one.
You could see the lake from where he parked and he liked that, liked it enough to get out and go sit on the grass further down the hill.
The sun was high, hot, away from just above him, on the two oclock side, and he realized with a pang he should be graduating right now.
Not that it really mattered. He could go wherever he wanted, Craig told him, he didn’t need a diploma, they would go wherever they wanted.
He looked out over the lake, watched the water glimmer and shine and glitter and wondered why there were no boats out before he figured out it was two o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone was at work or school.
He didn’t really remember why he came out here, something about a bottle—
“Hey baby.”
He stood quick and whipped around, staring around for the voice it’s so familiar and sweet it hurts—
“Craig.”
He’s sitting on the hood of the car with his legs crossed and his feet barely brushing the gravel.
“You left,” he says, and Craig doesn’t act like he hears at all.
“You remember this spot?” he says instead and looks around, like he’s living the memory now. “You were so good.”
“You left, Craig. Why’d you have to go and leave me like that?”
Craig stands up and crosses his arms now instead of his legs. “You told me you were gonna come with me, Andy. You promise but you stayed here in fuckin little Capote Kansas.” He says it kay-pote even though he knows that’s not how you say it, it’s cuh-po-tee like the author.
“I didn’t promise nothin’,” and Andy sounds almost pouty, mulish almost.
“Well you didn’t break your promise all the way at least did you Andy?”
“I didn’t?”
“Nope.” Craig leaned in and he still smells like he always did, smokes and chamomile and soap. “You remember?”
Andy thinks for a few seconds and he thinks hard and you can see it on his face. “Nope.”
Craig smiles and all of Andy’s bad feelings are gone because it’s a good smile, a Craig smile and it makes him feel warm and good inside. “Look out there, baby.”
He points to the lake and Andy looks and it’s him except it’s not him because he’s him.
“I told you, didn’t I? Quick and easy as falling asleep.”
Andy looks back at him and understands now. “Oh.”
Craig smiles again and this one’s gentler. “Come on.”
“You’ll be there?”
“Yeah.”
Andy’s eyes narrow and he knows Craig likes playing jokes. “You promise, Craig?”
Craig laughs that full barking laugh and Andy smiles, reassured. “I promise, baby.”
Craig holds out a hand. “Now come on.”
And Andy takes his hand, and all that’s left is the body and the car and the lake that never looked prettier.
