Excerpt from The Lost Child: July 4th, 1976 - Fireworks

July 4^th, 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.