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1
MARIKA
The water is perfect this morning. I feel content and safe here, floating on my back, looking up at the clear blue sky. A hint of pine and other natural scents from the forest slightly tickle my nose as I breathe in the fresh air. Fish are jumping further out in the lake. Birds are flying around while squirrels are scurrying back and forth on the branches hanging out over the edge of the shore. The wildlife wouldn't be playing and watching me if there were any dangers nearby.
I start to sing the latest song I've written, about a family living in a fishing village, while the birds whistle along as my backup singers. I pause at the chorus and turn, reaching my arms out and kicking my legs to swim a bit further out into the lake.
Luckily this lake is so hidden and out of the way, it's unlikely that anyone will see me or hear me singing. It's fitting. My dad will only allow me to write and sell my songs to other artists he produces in his studio at our house. He's seen too many negative things happen to performers, including my mother. Now that we've moved on as much as we could while still being in the music business, we have a good life and a beautiful home with everything we need and more. Sometimes though, I feel like I need to explore more of the world on my own.
No one else comes to this area because of what supposedly happened at an abandoned house nearby. Ironically, it feels comfortable singing and swimming here because of the ghost story that arose from the incident.
The story goes that a serial killer kept women tied up in his woodshed and killed them with his carving knives. One woman was able to get away and use one of the killer's own knives against him. She stabbed him, and as he was dying, she carved up his face and body. Now the giant, scary scarred man is said to haunt these woods looking for her.
We were speaking of the story at home one evening when my uncle told us another version of what happened at the house. The big man was a gangster, not a serial killer. He fell in love with a beautiful woman whose family owed a debt to other mobsters. The woman agreed to stay in the house with him while he kept her family hidden. He would not touch her, though, not until she fell in love with him.
The mobsters eventually caught up to them. They wanted to kill the gangster and take the young woman away to find out where her family was. She told them how happy she was that they were there to free her from such a monster and that she would get them the money her family owed. When they went to kill the gangster, she surprised them with a hidden weapon. The beautiful woman and beastly man she fell in love with stopped the mobsters together. They are said to be in hiding, living together safe and happy.
A little research found that my uncle's version of the story was closer to the truth. A little romantic adventure would be nice, but maybe without so much violence. I haven't been too interested in romance though, since Sven, my swim coach, came on to me a few years ago. He was also my sister Hanako's coach. I hadn't known that Sven was already sleeping with Honey; that's what we call Hanako.
Honey barged into the locker room while I was naked in Sven's arms, and she screamed. Luckily, we hadn't done anything but kiss until that point. The jerk suggested Honey stay, and the three of us have fun together. It was the only time I've used my Jiu-Jitsu training on a person. I can protect myself, but I hate violence. That's why my songs don't include any. I start to sing another song but reluctantly stop before I'm halfway through.
I should concentrate on my meeting scheduled for this afternoon instead of letting my thoughts wander. I'm not sure if I should tell my dad that I'm meeting with another music producer, especially Sonomi Sagawa. He doesn't have to know about it at all unless it goes well for me.
A noise from the shore behind me, where all my clothes are, pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn, expecting to see deer that sometimes show up and watch me along with the other animals. I'm startled, and my heart is racing. A woman is standing there. She doesn't look scary wearing yoga pants and a sports bra. She's tall and pretty with a thick, muscular body.
"Hello! I was running on the trail nearby and heard you singing. You sound so lovely!" the woman calls out to me with a large, toothy grin.
"Hello. Thank you. I'm Mari. The water is perfect if you want to… Hey, wait! Wait!" I yell as the woman picks up my clothes and empties the pockets onto the ground. "No, stop!"
She tucks my shorts and shirt under her arm, holds up and stretches out my panties, and laughs. I've never had any problems out here. I've never even seen anyone near here before.
"That’s not funny!” I shout and begin to swim towards her. She turns and runs into the woods with my clothes, her maniacal laughter trailing behind.
It takes me a few minutes to reach the shore. I look to see if anyone else is around before I get out of the water, completely naked. There’s no sign of the practical joker. At least that jerk left my cell phone and trail shoes.
“Okay, you got me. Now please bring my clothes back!” I shout. There’s no response which worries me a little, but I’m more angry than anything else.
I continue to call out into the woods while stepping into one of my shoes and simultaneously bending down to grab the lanyard attached to my cell phone from inside the other shoe. I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is behind me, but I quickly get over the feeling of embarrassment that someone might see me in such a position.
A daily routine of stretching and calisthenics has made me flexible enough to lift my knees, one at a time, and tie my laces so as to keep from having to bend over again or sit my bare butt down on the ground.
This may be far from the first time I’ve been swimming in the nude but I’ve never had to walk anywhere farther than from my shower to my bedroom in nothing but my birthday suit. The idea of using my cell phone case to cover my privates comes to mind, but the lanyard isn’t anywhere near long enough. Instead, I wear it around my neck, allowing my phone to hang below my breasts. There is only a bit of change in my shorts’ pockets, and I consider leaving it on the ground, but that would be littering. I pick it up and put it in the case while beginning to walk through the woods toward the trail.
There are sneaker tracks on the trail that lead in the opposite direction of my house. I debate whether or not to follow them. Maybe the woman isn’t ahugejerk and decided to leave my clothes on a log or something along the trail. Before I can determine what to do, I hear voices coming from the direction of the sneaker tracks. One sounds like the woman who took my clothes, but the other voice is deep and definitely belongs to a man.
The voices grow louder as I realize they’re walking back in this direction. I quickly duck behind a rock just off the trail. The brush hanging down gives me plenty of cover, and I’m able to peek through the openings in thevines and leaves. Suddenly, a gleam of light flashes directly in my eyes causing me to recoil. I take a moment to regain my composure, along with my eyesight, and lean over just enough to see the two of them. The morning sunlight beams down through the trees, bouncing off a gold medallion that hangs from a chain worn around the man’s neck. He has golden blond hair that almost glitters in the sun's rays. He looks to be at least six feet tall, dressed in casual athletic wear, which makes me think he’s been out running, perhaps along with that clothes-thieving friend of his. His bicep muscles, dewy with perspiration, bulge through the short sleeves of his tight, white t-shirt, and I almost forget what I’m even doing here.
“No, it’s not funny!” he seems to be scolding the woman.
Good!
“What if the girl calls the cops? You know what that could lead to. I just got the house and don’t need the hassle right now,” he continues.
“I'm sorry, Blondie! But it really was funny, and you said not to prank any of your work associates anymore, so I pranked a stranger. You should have seen the look on her face—Ouch!"
Did he slap her on the back of her head? He did!Well,good! It serves her right.He hands her what looks like one or two folded-up dollar bills, though they’re too far to tell how much money it actually is.Weird. They turn off the trail toward the lake, and I slowly make my way around the rock so as to remain out of sight.
"Great! She left. And I told you, don’t use that nickname outside of the city," he complains. I can’t see them anymore, but I can still hear them.
