AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I run past him.
“Laney?”
“I’m getting the paddleboard,” I call.
He says something, but I don’t hear him. I keep running along the interior where it’s mostly lichen and flat rock. I reach the boathouse and lift the board under my arm.
“You’re not going out on that,” Kit says.
I heft the board.
He crosses his arms. “Laney…”
“I want a closer look.”
“Whatever’s out there will come to shore.”
“We don’t know that. It’s not far. If I get in trouble, the current will bring me in.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Can I just take a look, please? Iwillbe careful.”
When he hesitates, I could say I’m doing it either way, but that’s never been our style.
“May I run and grab you a life vest?” he says.
I nod, and he lopes off.
I carry the board to the beach. I’m not lugging it all the way to the tip, not when it’ll be impossible to launch from the high rocks. Once at the beach, I roll up my pant legs and dip my toe in, yanking back as if scalded. More like frozen. Yep, feels like Lake Superior in October.
I wait until I see Kit. Then I wade in, braced against the icy water, and lay the paddle over the board.
Kit already has his feet bare from earlier. When I lean out to get the vest, he waves me off and steps into the water with a convulsive shiver.
“That’s why I reached for it.”
“Bracing,” he says. “It’s refreshingly bracing.”
I snort and take the vest. As I slip it on, he holds the board. Then I settle onto it, kneeling. He gives me a push. Once I’m out, I don’t rise to my feet. I stay on my knees and start paddling along the shore.
“Thank you!” he calls.
I give him a thumbs-up. Being on my knees is slower but more stable. I hug the shoreline, which will also keep Kit from worrying. Once I’m near the tip, I veer out.
Here’s where I’m really glad I stayed kneeling and even wondering whether I should have just sat my ass on the board. Or lain down and doggie-paddled surfer style. I love my paddleboard, but it really is meant for calmer water. Even these small waves have my every muscle tensing as I find my balance. I don’t have the ankle strap on. Yep, technically that’s a safety no-no, but Kit didn’t comment. He knows the strap is intended for calm water, where if you take a tumble, you don’t want to lose your board. Out here, with the chop, I’d rather rely on the life vest and my swimming skills and buy myself a new board if I lose it.
It’s been a while since I’ve paddled in rough water. I sure don’t do it when I’m alone. But soon I remember the rhythms and fall into it, working with the waves instead of against them. Paddle, paddle, pause. Paddle, paddle, pause. Water hits the side and sloshes over me, and my sweatpants are soon soaked, along with the baggy sleeveson my sweatshirt. I take a moment to focus on staying in place as I reorient myself.
Kit shouts from shore, barely audible over the slap of surf on the board. I look to see him pointing to my left. I squint and notice that one of those debris chunks is only about ten feet away. I turn and make slow progress in that direction.
What the hell is that?
I thought I knew. I’d been terrified that I knew, and told myself I was overreacting, but seeing this, I relax. What I’d seen looked like pieces of a boat, and my mind automatically jumped to images ofmyboat, Sadie on my boat, some horrible accident…
Yeah, that doesn’t make sense, does it? There’s nothing to hit out here. Okay, yes, there are islands, but Hemlock Island is unique, in a way that has had locals scratching their heads for decades. Lake Superior has plenty of private islands—and some big enough to host communities. But the ones around here are all close to shore. The locals say there shouldn’tbean island out here. But there is, and that’s all that matters.
That means Sadie did not accidentally steer into a neighboring island and dash my boat on the rocks. Even if she’d somehow dashed it on the shores of Hemlock Island, it’s not going to be in tiny pieces like this.
