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July 4th, 1976 – Fireworks
In the end he decided to go with
option number three.
A day at the lake with Stevie,
Leroy, Theo and some guy named John Timmons who had helped add a deck to the
back of the cabin while only requiring a wage that consisted of cold beer and hot
chicken and was therefore now Theo’s new best buddy.
He got a late start on the drive
over and stopped for gas and a six-pack before he even left the city limits.
Having already consumed a couple of coffees laced generously with Baileys while
perusing the daily newspaper it hadn’t taken long for him to generate a
low-level dandy-doodle buzz.
It wasn’t going to be that hot
today after all. Highs in the upper 90s but beware of the ungodly humidity. So
the cold water of the lake would really feel good around four in the afternoon
despite that fact that Theo’s lake was little more than a big red mud bath. No
natural spring source or winter snow runoff here, just a large manmade gash scooped
into the red Okie clay and they hadn’t bothered with lining its bottom with
rock or anything like that. And with all the boat activity expected today the
water would be churning and that silty bottom would kick up a simmering tomato broth.
Bobby knew they’d all have to take long showers afterwards to get that rusty
sheen blasted off of them and you’d be surprised to see how much bloody grit
was trickling down that shower drain.
Lately Theo had taken to collecting
rocks which he found scattered along the shoreline and in the woods (and even
gravel from his neighbor’s driveways) and then stacking them into the corner of
his boat. Later, when he’d reached a proper spot, he’d take those rocks and
gently place them into the water with a delicate plop in hopes of little by little,
stone by precious stone, getting that lake bottom lined with something besides red
dirt.
“If everybody around here would
pitch in we could have this lake crystal clear within a couple of years,” he’d
sermonize, and then they would all watch as a little whirlpool of red water came
spinning back up to the surface announcing the arrival of Theo’s latest
offering. Last summer Leroy had offered to bring an abandoned toilet next time
he came and the thought of a big shiny chunk of porcelain sitting down there
actually appealed to Theo. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more the
idea of littering the lake bottom with a collection of discarded junk made perfect
sense. Those items were in essence big damn rocks and would line that bottom
forever. But then Stevie chimed in and quipped that it would be awesome to be
able to relieve one’s bowels and improve the quality of the lake water at the
same time.
“I only wish you would take a dump down there,” Theo
said, “and then maybe a long nap afterwards.”
“Hey, we’re not here to drink it,”
Leroy offered, but then he smiled, knowing that not even he could deny that the
lake water was clogging their pores.
“We’re here to spelunk our way
through it!”
A little after half past one Bobby
pulled onto the gravel driveway that led to the cabin. He had promised to be
there at least by noon so he wasn’t surprised to see that the boat and its
occupants were no longer awaiting his arrival dockside. He parked next to
Stevie’s car, got out, and walked to the back of the house to take a quick scan
of the lake. He could only see a small portion of it from this particular vantage
as the vast majority of the lake twisted around the eastern point which was lined
with tall reeds and therefore lay unseen. That was the side where most of the
partying happened, the water skiing and the general balls-to-the-wall hell-raising,
and Theo was really fortunate to have the smaller quieter side right here with
the best fishing just beyond his own back screen door.
At the moment there was just one
small rowboat in his line of vision, a shadowy silhouette far across the lake,
and he could barely make out two figures with their rods poking out over the
calm water. But he could hear the familiar buzz of a speedboat slicing through
the water just around the point and he felt certain that it was the old
Chris-Craft with the boys coming back around, maybe conducting a quick drive-by
to see if their old friend had finally shown up. As the sound grew louder he
stepped back away from the shoreline and out of sight into the deep pools of
shadow cast by shedding cottonwoods.
Sure enough the boat shot around
the point and it was roaring now and casting off a splendid fan of spray, but instead
of stepping forward and revealing himself Bobby retreated further and further
until finally he was back inside his car and driving away.
