A House at the Bottom of a Lake

4

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.”

Another dumb joke. Who would bring up a meal deal while surrounded by everything that was so much the opposite of a meal deal?

But James smiled. Then he pulled out two sandwiches wrapped in foil, two bottles of water, and two bags of plain chips. He handed Amelia hers. Then he rose, carefully, and got back on the bench.

“You got a problem with your hose?” James asked her.

Amelia laughed with her mouth full and coughed from it.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” she said, then swallowed. “And yes, I do have a problem with my hose. I totally forgot to buy a new one when I was in your store.”

“It’s not my store.”

James wished he hadn’t said it that way. He hadn’t decided yet if he wanted to tell Amelia that his dad owned the place. Did she already know?

“What’s wrong with the hose?” he asked her.

“It’s got holes in it.”

“Are you sure it isn’t the clamp?”

“What’s a clamp?”

A bird flew low to the water, many feet away. James looked at Amelia’s legs.

“The clamp that holds two hoses together. Is it two hoses?”

“It is, yeah.”

“Probably the clamp, then.” He took a bite of his sandwich. The bird rose high up again. Amelia’s skin looked so clean to him, so soft. “Did you see an actual hole in one of the hoses?”

“I think so.”

“Then it might not be the clamp. I can fix it either way.”

“You can?”

“Sure. Or I’ll show you how and you can do it. It’s simple, if you think about it. Fixing stuff. There are only so many parts to a thing, you know? So you just start figuring out which part is the broken part.”

“Okay.”

An eagle flew above them. Flew to the shoreline. Settled at the top of a tree.

“Oh man,” James said, setting his lunch on top of the cooler. “I bet we can see it up close.”

Even from as far as they were, Amelia thought she could make out a nest in the treetop. A big wicker basket harboring the bird.

“Let’s do it.”

James was already turning around.

“You ready?” he called to her.

“Ready.”

They paddled toward the trees, quickly. The eagle remained in the nest. It seemed to be watching them approach. When they were close enough, James pushed his oar against the water and the canoe turned slightly, gliding to a partial stop near the shoreline.

James turned to Amelia and placed a finger over his lips.

But Amelia had to say something.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one… so close!”

This was good, James thought. An eagle could be as exciting as a speedboat.

“It’s incredible,” he said.

Amelia wished she had brought a camera. Then she decided it was okay that she didn’t have one. She could bring one next time. Then she realized she was already thinking of next time.

They studied the bird for a long time. Eventually it flew away, hunting, and Amelia followed its path, its trajectory, until something far beneath it caught her eye.

“What’s that?” she asked.

James looked, expecting to see another bird.

“What’s what?”

“That.” Amelia pointed it out with an oar.

“I don’t see anything.”

“It’s… a little bridge, maybe?”

James held a hand over his eyes and squinted where she was pointing.

“I don’t remember any bridge out here. And I still don’t see what you mean.”

“You see that dark evergreen there?”

“Which one?”

“It’s tall. Taller than the—”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Okay, now go down to its base and to the left like… one… two… three trees.”

James did. He saw it.

“Oh wow. I have no idea. Oh wait. I do know what that is.”

“What?”

“It’s like a tiny stretch of road. Concrete. I think it’s for whoever maintains the lakes. Like a service drive.”

“Ah.”

James smiled.

“You wanna check it out, don’t you?”

Amelia shrugged. She didn’t want to say no to anything. Not today.

“Yeah, I mean. Why not?”

“Yeah,” James said. “Okay. So do I.”

They paddled toward the concrete patch of road almost buried in the trees at the shoreline.