After some grueling paddling into fierce winds, we finally found calm waters in the lea of the trees and cattails lining the northern and western shores of Lake Walter E. Long.
Kyle and Ry were in a new red canoe. Izzy and I were in our new red kayak. (The colors were coordinated almost perfectly.) And when we spotted a creek with ultra-calm waters, we were all in agreement, because we were all tired out and ready for a rest.
“Now this is more like it,” I muttered only half under my breath. Izzy found the courage to climb back up on the slippery bow. And Kyle threw his anchor so that we could just hang out for a while.
We drank drinks and ate snacks. Izzy found Kyle’s watermelon particularly satisfying. We told little stories about our lives.
I told them about picking up blueprints at the printing department when I worked as a draftsman’s aide my senior year in high school.
“Imagine,” Ry said. “A high school job that would actually look good on your resumé.”
“I used to work with a man,” Kyle said. And then he briefly stopped, motioning towards me. “In fact, he reminds me of you,” he said.
“Oh no,” I thought.
“All he did was smoke.”
What!? All this guy did was smoke and he reminds you of me!?
“He never ate. And I never saw him drink a thing.” Then he turned to Ry. “Just like David. He only drinks coffee. I never see him drink water.”
In the morning. I only drink coffee in the morning. …Ok, ok. I’m busted. At least Trudy wasn’t there, so she’ll never find out about this, because if she did, there would be much finger waging.
She’ll never find out, right?