4 comments/ 899 views/ 2 favorites A Secret and a Promise By: Letoria yesterday i saw a rose, and thought of you, and how, so many years ago we explored the woods together, you and i... fashioned dolls out of clay and strung flowers in your hair, roses on my lips, and dreamed of growing wings someday to fly away as one... we were never to part, you and i; such were promises we made Jaehla A vague, unfocused, but delightful excitement filled Karen as she and her best friend ever Lisa burst from the house and raced each other down the deck's stairs onto the back lawn. It wasn't yet nine o'clock, and already the air was hot and sultry, but Karen hardly noticed. Summer was now officially underway, and she and Lisa had the day to themselves. Karen subconsciously understood this summer was the last time she could be a kid, carefree and unencumbered by the burdens of growing up. Even then, she sensed the moments of pure, unselfconscious childishness would be fleeting. The end of this summer marked the start of seventh grade, middle school, when school life became increasingly regimented and compartmentalized. None of that mattered this sweltering day as she and Lisa bounded across the lawn toward the thick, overgrown meadow. Splotches of color splattered the tangled field as early summer wildflowers rose up and lifted their heads. The two girls hopped and jumped into the sweet smelling hayfield, giggling as they went. Karen had no idea where they were going; they were just going. She simply followed Lisa, who always seemed to know where they ought to go. There was a half-remembered promise from last night about catching dragonflies so they could see for themselves whether or not they were really fairies, as related in some vague fable. Who cared if it was childishly silly and ephemeral? It was summer, they were truly best friends, preferring each other's company to all others. The way they looked at each other and interacted bespoke an unusual intimacy in their friendship, something that was quite sensual and vaguely sexual, yet looked and felt natural. They plowed through the reluctant-to-yield hay, jumping and hopping when it was the only option, giggling all the while. Karen felt especially exuberant this day. It would be the last like this. Next weekend marked the beginning of the great migration to summer lakeside camps. They would still hang out together every day. Lisa's family camp was a mere mile down the road from Karen's, and a mile to an energetic twelve-year-old girl was no more than a brisk walk. There would, however, be others intruding on their time together starting next week. Days where they could escape the throngs of cousins, other kids they knew from school, or some they knew not at all except as part of the camp mob, and just be by themselves, would be hard to come by. So today had an unspoken and unacknowledged urgency to it. That urgency was pleasant for Karen. It hung in her midsection like a glowing orb. As they bounced through the hay, they set a nest of white moths a-scatter, and Karen cried in glee, "Lisa! Check out all the little butterflies." "Never mind the butterflies," Lisa answered, gesturing broadly for Karen to come on. "I wanna catch a dragonfly and check it out, and the dragonflies are down here by the swamp." In the spring, the area was truly a swamp, the small stream that cut through the meadow overflowing with run-off. But now, it was reduced to patches of mud and muck and small pools of water, and where the stream was more substantial, reed grass and cattails stood sentinel. On the other side of the mucky area, another swath of meadow sprawled out to a tree line. Each year it seemed the tree line grew further into the meadow. "It's all yucky over there," Karen squealed. "What, you turning into a big baby?" Lisa called back. "'Fraid of a little mud?" "Who you calling a baby, I'm here, right?" "But your complaining about it." Putting an end to the questions, both girls stepped into muck at the same time, clean pink tennies instantly ruined. Karen laughed with delight. "I told you it was mucky," and her feet slurped when she lifted them, as if to prove her point. "I don't care, we're almost where it gets swampy, that's where the dragonflies are." And so it went. Dragonflies turned out to be harder to catch than butterflies. In spite of their size, the creatures were agile. Both girls cried out whenever one of the insects came near her head, the fading childish legend that they sewed your mouth shut if you swore was still close enough to have some effect. It was Karen, focused in on one seemingly sluggish specimen, who finally caught a dragonfly in her cupped palm. The insect buzzed frantically, making Karen squeal, "It's gonna sting me!" "No it is not," Lisa retorted, and Karen relaxed as her friend drew close. "Let's see," Lisa said, "but be careful, don't let it get away." Both girls were disappointed that the dragonfly truly was nothing more than an insect. No fairy dangled from the wings. "I knew it wasn't true," Lisa declared. "Stupid little kid stories. C'mon, let's go over to the old shed and dry off." The old shed was the slowly deteriorating remnant of what was once a place to store haying equipment during the summer months when these fields were still mown three times a season. They'd discovered it years before as they flitted about on their explorations. Late last summer, they'd begun to speak of it as their special hiding place, a place where they could safely retreat from the wider world. Only one corner of the old shed still stood relatively intact. The rest of the structure had long since collapsed into a heap of grayed wood overrun with field weeds. An unruly lilac bush grew at the still standing corner, providing shade, as did an equally unruly blackberry patch. They were holding hands and laughing. They ducked under the cover provided by the tangled bushes and the remnants of the old shed. It was pleasantly cooler out of the hot sun. Though the lilacs had passed weeks before, their scent still hovered faintly in the air. "I hate wet feet," Lisa grumbled as she pulled her mud stained tennies off. "Me too," Karen said as she pulled her own tennies off and set them on the remnants of a beam so they might dry some in the sun. She felt a warmth in her midsection when she looked at her friend. Lisa was a strikingly beautiful girl. Her lithe and willowy body offered secret promises of delectability in times to come. Lisa usually let her long, honey colored hair with its wisps of natural surf curls go untamed. Her lips were full and lush, and her striking green eyes flashed with restless impetuosity. Karen herself was an exceptionally pretty girl, her body every bit as sleek and willowy as Lisa's. Her hair, rather than the long, thick mane of her friend, was a nest of unruly curls forever falling over her eyes. Her brown eyes and lush mouth seemed to join forces to give Karen a vast repertoire of expressive smiles and frowns. Together, they would surely make a formidable team for freshly hormonal boys to confront once the girls hit the fullness of puberty. Karen was aware of the expectation that dating boys was just around the corner. For the life of her, she simply could not grasp what was so special about boys. That must come with the still theoretical P word. Periods meant, she was assured, the onset of womanhood. For now, though, boys could be damned. It was Lisa who had her full attention, Lisa who was her best friend, Lisa who made her tummy feel warm and achy. At night, she often lay abed before sleep came, imagining both of them teaming up to effortlessly solve all of the world's ills. There was no reason to believe anything would ever happen to rend them asunder. Karen was hardly the first naive prepubescent to believe childhood friendships, however strong, would last forever. ... The first mutters of thunder were faint enough that they might be passed off as the rumble of an overloaded pulp truck on the main road almost a mile away, but the western sky was blackening in the distance. Karen was beginning to feel antsy. "Maybe we oughta go back before it rains." Lisa grinned at her and gave her an elbow nudge. "What? You still chicken of thunderstorms?" Karen squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't like 'em is all," she muttered. "Besides, our folks might get worried." "You're such a sissy," Lisa teased, but her beautiful green eyes sparkled playfully, and she was smiling in a way that made Karen's private area feel warm and tingly. "Am not," Karen said without conviction, captured and held by her friend's steady gaze. "Don't be a baby. We'll stay dry here, and we'll be together." She subtly patted the spot of bare ground next to her, calling Karen closer. "OK," Karen sighed, and she slid over. Now the thunder was louder and unmistakable, and the black sky was laced with occasional streaks of quivering light. Suddenly Karen wasn't sure if her heart was racing because of the storm, or because she was tucked up close to her friend. "You've got dandelion thingies in your hair," Karen observed. "So?" "Want me to take them out?" "I don't have a comb or brush or anything." "That's OK, I'll pick them out with my fingers." "OK, if you want to." Lisa said. She picked a stalk of grass and stuck it in her mouth and sat between Karen's splayed legs. Karen sighed softly. She'd always loved Lisa's hair, even felt a bit jealous of it. It was long and thick, a golden color that seemed to radiate the light of the sun, and just as soft as a kitten's fur. It had natural wisps of surf curls, a style that would be very desirable in a few years. The thunder was still distant, the sky still bright, and in no time, Karen lost herself in the wondrous feel of her friend's silken tresses in her fingers as she carefully plucked the fuzzy seeds free. Lisa's eyes were closed and her face relaxed as her best friend groomed her hair. Karen's midsection was beginning to feel tense and warm. Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to kiss Lisa, and the thought made the warm tension focus itself in her girl parts, and that was a feeling she relished. They talked as Karen stroked Lisa's hair, talked about everything and nothing, the casual, easy small talk of girls who'd been almost inseparable since pre-school. It was not lost on Karen that her friend's breasts were becoming noticeable. Lisa had started her period in the spring, and Karen knew that meant Lisa would begin to change soon. But not yet. A sharp bark of thunder made Karen jump and let out a startled yip. It was getting quite dark, and the flashes of lightning were more frequent and brighter, the thunder's growls becoming menacing snarls. Lisa took Karen's hand in hers and said, "Maybe we better stretch out under the roof so we don't get wet." The corner of the old shed sat firmly atop a smooth piece of granite ledge. The stone had a natural cup in it, big enough for them to lay side by side, and the remnants of the roof would keep them out of the rain. Karen, heart thudding, whether from fear of the storm, or the chance to lay close to her friend she neither knew nor cared. "Don't be afraid, silly," Lisa said, but there was no teasing in her tone. "I'm right here with you." They stretched out, and Karen felt a surge inside. "I hate being such a baby." Lisa smiled affectionately and brushed the tip of the grass stalk over Karen's cheek. "Don't be silly, you know how scared I am of snakes and stuff, everybody's got something silly they're 'fraid of. I'm here, you're not alone." Lisa tone was soothing, calm and tender. Before Karen could say anything, the hair on her body seemed to stand up. Then came a great flash of crackling light as bright as a welder's arc, and it was accompanied by a crackling, ripping, booming explosion, so violent the ground shook. Karen screamed, and even Lisa jumped and yipped. Within seconds of the explosion, while it still boomed and echoed, a great gust of wind shushed over the meadow and shook the lilac tree. That was followed by the staccato pat-pat-pat of hailstones assaulting remnants of the shed. Then, another sizzling, crackling bolt of lightning, further away than the first one but still uncomfortably close, unleashed an explosion of thunder like a howitzer shell going off. This one summoned the rain, and the skies opened in a torrential deluge. "Jeezum Crow!" Lisa cried with a mix of delight and awe. "That's fricken incredible!" In spite of the violence of the storm, the two girls were safe and dry from the fall of water and hailstones. "Wow!" Karen said in a low voice. "I wonder if it's gonna tornado or something, like the Wizard of Oz." "Yeah, I wonder where our Oz would be." "I'd rather not find out," Karen said, giggling nervously. Apropos of nothing, Lisa shifted so she was on her side facing Karen, her head propped on her hand, and said, "You know, that cousin of yours, Jeremy, he's a gross pig." "He doesn't belong to me," Karen said in defense. "Why's he a gross pig?" "Cause he's always trying to act all cool and mature, trying to impress me, like he wants to make out or something. That is just so gross." "Ewww," Karen agreed, and the image was in fact troublesome. "He's a guy, so I guess that pretty much explains it." "You ever made out with anybody?" Lisa challenged. "Me? Not hardly, who am I gonna make out with? Not gross Jeremy." "We'll have to someday." They looked at each other, bodies silently drawn together like filings to a magnet, on the verge, but neither girl dared pull the trigger yet. Trying a different tack, Lisa suddenly said with authority, "You know what I think is wicked stupid?" "No, what do you think is wicked stupid. Besides Jeremy," Karen added with a wicked laugh. "I think it's wicked stupid that two girls can't be in love together. What's up with that? Who says we can only be in love with stupid boys. What fricken business is it of anyone?" Karen's heart thudded and flip-flopped and her tummy seemed to do a free-fall. She understood Lisa's question wasn't an idle one, but how was she supposed to react? Her mouth felt cottony. At last, she muttered, "Yeah, we should get to be in love with whoever we want." She mentally kicked herself for offering such a lame answer. Lisa was on a mission and she would not be denied. "We should get to make out with whoever we want, too, boys, girls. You ever wonder what it's like? Making out? Kissing and stuff?" Don't screw it up this time, she admonished herself. "Yeah, I have. Thought about it, not done it." Lisa eyes sparkled impishly. "Wanna try it? Kinda like practice?" Karen wanted to explode inside, but she feigned indifference. She shrugged and said, "Yeah, that might be cool, that way we won't look, like, totally clueless the first time we do it for real." They both giggled self-consciously and hesitantly came together. Their lips met in an awkward connection. Both girls kept their mouths closed and pushed. They were breathing hard. It was Lisa who parted her lips first, and they both accidentally came together in a real kiss. "It's kinda nice," Lisa said. "No wonder people like it." Lisa face was radiant, and to Karen she was the single most beautiful person imaginable. They brought their mouths together with force, both of them squirming their bodies, trying to press as close to the other as possible. Karen's insides throbbed and surged in a way she'd never experienced before, and it was the most wonderful, yet most scary sensation she'd ever felt. It kept growing until she was whimpering. Their hands unconsciously roamed over each other, tentative, uncertain, and hesitant. Something was going to happen inside Karen, something both awesome and terrifying, and it was irresistible. It scared her, but not enough to make her stop kissing Lisa. Any pretense of practicing kissing had long since been forgotten. The thunder grew softer, fainter as the heart of the storm moved away. Still, the rain came in torrents. Above them, unseen, rainwater pooled in cup formed when boards bent under the weight of many seasons. The collected water was straining the boards forming the cup. As slowly as the minute hand on an old clock, the boards began to sag. Without warning, the wood gave way. A sudden deluge dropped down on Karen and Lisa. The shock smothered their ardor as quickly as it would a camp fire. Both girls involuntarily screamed out in shock. Karen had no idea at first what had happened. "What the hell..." Lisa cried out in a near squeal. Karen simply screeched. They both got up, drenched, looking like a pair of drowned dogs. They bent over, automatically trying to shake the water off. It was Lisa who started laughing first. A small giggle rapidly swelled to a full on laugh. The rain continued apace, pelting the shelterless girls. Karen wasn't sure what was going on, but Lisa's laugh was infectious. She looked up at her friend, whose expression was sheer glee, and she suddenly grasped the craziness of it all. Her giggle rose to a full laugh. "Let it rain!" Lisa cried at the gray sky. She grabbed Karen by the hand, and dragged her into the open meadow. Karen broke free of Lisa's grasp and they both gleefully danced in the rain and the dripping wet meadow grass. Lisa turned her face skyward and spread her arms out, laughing, "Let it rain, let it rain!" Their dance, like two nymphs frolicking around Zeus, was filled with exuberant exultation. They bound, and spun, fell down, got up, whooped and sang. They grabbed each other's hands and danced in a bouncing circle, while Lisa sang out, "Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies." The meadow grass, assaulted by both the torrential rain, and Karen and Lisa's dance of joyful exultation, laid flat. "Isn't this so awesome?" Karen squealed. "Perfect, perfect, perfect," the girl sang. "I'm so soaked and I don't even care!" They embraced and continued their dance to Tempesta even as the rain tapered, the clouds broke up, and the sun returned. "Look!" Lisa squealed, pointing at the retreating storm clouds. A rainbow spanned from horizon to horizon. "Ohmygod," Karen cried, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. "It's beautiful! Lisa! Look at it, I never seen such a beautiful rainbow before!" "Oh yeah, it's frickin awesome!" She grabbed Karen in an embrace, and they hugged long and hard, rocking back and forth. Karen's insides hummed with a great and wonderful energy. I could be in love with her, Karen thought over and over. Life stretched before them, filled with possibilities, and Karen had never been so happy. This was indeed a magic place. At last, the sun back in all its glory, the birds returned from their shelters, Lisa said, "We better get back. I bet my Mom's having a cow!" Karen reluctantly let the moment slip away. Lisa was right. "Yeah, I guess." The girls slipped on their soaked tennies, and when they stood up, Lisa pinched Karen and offered an impish smile. "Race ya!" and she flew off through the grass. "Hey," Karen cried. "No fair, I can't run as fast as you." Lisa stopped and stuck her tongue out at Karen. "Nyah, nyah!" Karen took off as fast as she could. Lisa bogged down in the muck, while Karen seemed to find a smoother path, but it was no use. She'd never catch her laughing, nimble friend. When Lisa burst through the grass marking the rear border of her yard, she stopped and waited the few seconds for Karen to catch up. Without saying anything, the girls threw their arms around each other's shoulders. They both looked back on final time from whence they came, before they skipped across the lawn, singing spontaneous tunes. A Secret and a Promise They were best friends, and the whole summer lay before them like an untapped cornucopia. * * * It was nearly six o'clock when they went their separate ways, each skipping off as if they were still seven-year-old kids. "See you tomorrow," Lisa called with a wave. "Bye!" Karen called. It was two weeks later, an ordinary summer night, though hotter and more humid than most, and there wasn't so much as a whisper of a breeze to cut the heavy air. Supper, such as it was, consisted of Italian sandwiches Dad picked up on the way home from work. When it was finished, Karen grabbed the book she'd been reading, Annie Proulx's "Heart Songs," and headed for the dock. When she asked her Dad to buy it for her, he did so willingly, but he gave her a fleeting, admiring glance, and said, "That's a pretty grown up book, sure you're ready for it?" Karen simply rolled her eyes, clucked her tongue, and said, "Dad, I'm almost in eighth grade now, I can't keep reading kids' books forever." He gave her head an affectionate pat and flashed her a wink. She was Daddy's little girl. She adored him, he was her rock, calm, unflappable, smart beyond measure, protective, her image of what men should be. Truth be told, she was captivated by the book's short stories, even though she didn't quite get all of them. It was Proulx's voice that held her attention, just as it was the melody in a Mozart piano concerto that held her. She plunked herself down on the end of the dock and dangled her feet in the tepid water and opened the book to where she'd carefully slipped in the bookmark (Mom had taught her to never dog-ear a book's page to mark her place; it bordered on a sacrilege). Karen paused a few seconds as she let her mind open itself. She was only just becoming reacquainted with the ebb and flow of summer life on the lake. Off to her left visible through a thin swath of fir trees was the camp belonging to her Uncle Sonny, complete with its own dock. Her cousin Jeremy, two years older and seemingly obsessed with more adult pleasures, stood at the end of the dock desultorily casting a fishing line into the water, the ripples of the baited hook the only thing disturbing the glass calm of the water's surface. From further down came the delighted squeals of her younger cousins splashing about, and truth be told, the lure of joining them was strong, but "Heart Songs" were equally melodious, and besides, the thought of Jeremy leering at her sealed the deal. To her right, the scruffy, vaguely dangerous members of the Hyatt clan buzzed about in their outboard boats. Further off to the right, the setting sun hung like an iron ball fresh from a forge over the ridgeline forming the back wall of the lake's natural bowl. The full moon was up well above the horizon, though still a vague silver dollar in the sun's light. Oppressive yet vaguely comforting, the close summer air wrapped Karen like a blanket. She sighed contentedly, and looked at her open book. Karen hardly looked up from the book over the next two hours. When she finally did, it was only because Jeremy had hucked a dirt clod in her direction. "Gettin dark, gonna roon your eyes you keep readin in the dark," he offered sagely. Karen worked out a kink in her neck. "Do you sign up to get stupid junk like that mailed to you?" she retorted. It was well into twilight, and the sun relinquished the sky to the moon. Boats and kids were out of the water for another day, and the surface of the lake once again went as smooth as plate glass. "You're a smart-ass," Jeremy said as he hucked another dirt clod at Karen. "Yup, I am." Karen bounded up the natural steps formed by the exposed roots of the fir trees to the camp. How could anyone find boys interesting, she mused. They were mostly stupid and crude, fascinated by farting and belching and trying to impress girls by acting like assholes. Fans scattered about the open common area of the camp did nothing to cool things off. Rather than stew over it, Karen simply fell into her summer evening ritual; a small bowl of ice cream (strawberry) and a can of Diet Pepsi, diaphoretic in the humid air, followed by a cooling shower. There was no question, the lukewarm shower was the perfect end to a hot summer day. Karen stepped under the powerful spray and took her time before lathering up. Her hair shampooed and rinsed, she soaped up a washcloth and drew it over her sleek form. Hers was still the body of a child. She longed to experience the changes Lisa was undergoing. Soon, she thought, pretty soon. Karen carefully run her soapy hand over her sex and sighed. It was such a wonderful sensation, a tugging on a magic chain that ran into secret places hidden from view. She let the water rinse the soap from her hand. Getting too much soap there might cause an infection, or so the rumor went. Now she wasn't as hesitant about exploring a little more, nothing serious. Karen had long since stopped mulling over why touching her girl parts conjured images of Lisa, of the two of them chasing each other, hugging and dancing, at last kissing. Why didn't, at least then, matter very much. **** It was simply too hot to sleep, even uncovered and with the fan blowing right on her. How in God's name her mother and father could sleep was beyond her. Karen sat on the edge of her bed and pulled on her tennies. A walk might help. She stepped out on the deck and looked out over the lake. There still wasn't so much as a whisper of a breeze. Unsullied by even a single ripple, the moon's ghostly gray reflection on the surface of the lake was pure. Karen glanced up at the moon's shadowy face, and a shudder passed over her, almost unnoticed. It seemed as if there was some sort of commotion up the lake and out of view, closer to Lisa's camp. Karen shrugged and skipped down the steps and made her way to the dirt camp road. She didn't have a place in mind; fireflies winked and stuttered over the high meadow grasses, while crickets chirped languidly, and the moon's sepulchral glow lighted paths almost as well as the morning sun. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Lisa were with her right now, Karen mused. In the depths of night, perhaps they'd even dare to hold hands. Maybe - just maybe - they'd slip into a secret embrace, and just as with the magic day of the thunderstorm, they'd come together in a kiss... Karen's heart sped up at the wantonness of her fantasy, her girl parts clenched like a fist, and a nest of butterflies was loosed in her tummy. She plucked a stalk of timothy and stuck it in her mouth in unconscious imitation of Lisa. It was obvious something was going on down the lake. It was impossible to overlook the ominous glow of strobing blue and red police lights. Obviously, the Hyatt's were up to their tricks, perhaps a drunken argument evolved into brawl, she'd get all the details from Lisa in the morning. Now, her stroll through the cool meadow left her feeling pleasantly drowsy. Time to head back to the camp, to sleep, perchance to dream. *** It immediately struck Karen as odd when she rolled out of bed at nine o'clock and Daddy hadn't left for work yet. Truth be told, he looked pale, almost ashen. He must have a flu bug or something, Karen thought. "Daddy, how come you're not at work?" she said through a yawn. He hardly looked up from the almost empty coffee cup in front of him. He took a deep breath and let it out in an anguished sigh. "Sit down, pumpkin, I need to talk to you about something." That was when Karen felt the first squirt of fear in her tummy. Her heart speeded up, her mouth went dry, and her legs began to tremble. What was going on. Was she in trouble? Did she do something bad without knowing it? "Daddy, what's the matter?" she said, her voice going up an octave and edged with fear. "Did I do something wrong?" He looked up and she saw tears in his eyes, which unto itself was terrifying. Whatever it was, it was serious, really serious. "No honey, you didn't do anything wrong." Her mother moved behind now. "Tell me what's going on," she cried out, the panic edging closer to the surface. Now she thought she might pass out. "Ummm, last night, around midnight, Lisa and her bothers decided to sneak out and use the boat to go on the lake and cool off. Well, something happened, not sure what, but the boat tipped over, and... and... Lisa drowned. Her brothers tried to save her, but they couldn't do anything." An enormous pang pulsated through Karen. "No," she said, shaking her head. "That's not true," she said, her voice high quavery. "That's a mean trick to play on me." "I'm afraid it's not a trick, honey. I wish it were." "But it can't be true, we hung out together yesterday, and we're going to hang out again today. She promised." And with that, Karen's young world collapsed in a smoking heap of rubbish. She was dimly aware she was screaming, because such a thing could not be. It was impossible. Her insides screamed in agony, hot surges rocking her. Somewhere in her fury, Daddy had picked her up and he was carrying her, patting her back and trying to soothe her, trying to take the edge off her shock. "No, no," she cried. "She can't be dead, she was my best friend! No! She's too young to be dead! Please Daddy, tell me it's a joke, tell me it's not true." Her Daddy took a deep, shuddery breath, utterly nonplussed, at a loss for words to give his daughter as her world imploded. He was a man of few words in the best of circumstances. He was clearly fighting to hold back his own tears, distraught at being unable to find the magic words that might ease his daughter's agony. Such words simply did not exist. Karen's mother wept freely, sobbing at her daughter's anguish, at the senseless death of a child on the cusp of life. The cruel indifference of life slapped all of them, leaving all three in the throes of agony. Karen's brain was limping along, circuits overloaded by the suddenness of the tragedy, perhaps trying to protect itself by filtering out everything except what was absolutely necessary to function. At some point, she grabbed the teddy bear off the shelf over her bed and clutched tightly. The teddy bear was a gift from Lisa. They were at the mall one day, bright and cheerful in a happier time, and Lisa bought it on a whim from one of the kiosks dotting the landscape of the mall. Once purchased, Lisa had no clue what to do with it. She hadn't really wanted it, it was an impulse buy, a joke, pure and simple. Lisa grinned and jabbed the bear into Karen's midsection. "Here. Don't say I never got you anything." "What do I want with a teddy bear," Karen protested. "Do I look like a little kid or something?" Lisa had that impish glint in her eyes. "Maybe, but now it's yours. You hafta take it 'cause it's a present from me to you." "Gee, thanks a million, just what I always wanted, a little kid's teddy bear." "Not a problame-o, lame-o." But now, the bear had a special significance all out proportion to original purpose. Karen curled into the fetal position and held the bear close, sobbing and moaning. How could it be that Lisa was dead. It made no sense. They'd just hung out together yesterday, and now, now, Lisa was gone, and not for a few days. Forever. Now she understood what the strobing police lights meant last night, and it wasn't the Hyatts getting into a brawl. It was people searching the waters for her best friend, hoping against hope that she might yet be rescued. Karen's brain clamped down on that line of thought, pushed it aside for the time being. In fact, most of the next three days would be forcefully stuffed into the deepest vaults of Karen's mind, buried away, not be heard from again until another life in another world. As devastated as Karen was over her best friend's sudden, shocking death, Lisa's brothers' agony surely was infinitely worse. It was they who'd talked their little sister into going for a midnight canoe ride to escape the heat; it was her brothers who thought it would be funny to scare their little sister by rocking the canoe and teasing her; it was her brothers who, in a prank gone horribly wrong, tipped the canoe over, spilling Lisa into tepid water, Lisa who wasn't wearing a life jacket, Lisa who wasn't a good swimmer, Lisa who panicked in the water, thrashing madly, groping for her brothers to pull her to safety, Lisa who's thrashing made it impossible for her brothers to reach her before she slipped under the water, gone forever. It was Lisa's brothers who would relive that mad, frantic two minutes over and over for the rest of their lives, in a kind of emotional purgatory. ************** Karen's mother and father gave her the space she needed to work through her grief, but they kept a wary eye on her lest she do something foolish like try to join her friend in death. Karen sat at the end of the dock, her feet dangling in the water, watching the moon rise from behind the ridgeline. There was a tiny breeze this night, just enough to cause ripples which broke the moon's reflection into a thousand shimmering lights on the water's surface. Karen held the teddy bear in a tight embrace, and she wept quietly. She looked up at the moon and offered her question. Why? Why did you hafta die, Lisa? Why? You were my best friend. I coulda fallen in love with you, and now you're... gone. Forever. Was it something I did? Was it because we hugged and kissed that day of the thunderstorm? Is God punishing us for hugging and kissing? We're not even teenagers yet, how are we s'pose to know these things. How can it be a real and true thing that you're... dead? The moon, it's head cocked to one side, it's mouth a silent, ghostly O, did not answer her questions. Karen hugged the teddy bear tighter than ever. Why din't you get me to go with you? I woulda saved you, you know that, don't you? I woulda saved you no matter what, but I wasn't there, I shoulda been, but I wasn't, and I'm sorry, really I am." Without conscious thought, Karen stood up. She didn't see her father on the deck, keeping a vigil, ready to jump if needed. A deep, heavy ache settled in the pit of her stomach. Her face was wet with tears, and every breath she drew came with a shudder or a sob. She climbed up the slope from the water's edge, past the camp cabin, and onto the dirt camp road. Just as last night, the light from the moon was bright and almost funereal. Karen stood for a moment, looking at the path made last night on her late night romp. The same fireflies floated in the warm, humid air, the same crickets chirped, and the air was redolent of the same sweet, earthy aroma of fresh grass and wildflowers as the Magic Day and their secret place. She made her way through the grass, the stalks shushing on the fabric of her shorts. Karen stopped at the spot where she stood last night and hugged the teddy bear. There were no strobing police lights, no commotions on this sultry night. Just silence, silence as heavy as death, broken only by Karen's soft sobs. *********** Karen stood as still as a statue, staring at the doorframe leading to the viewing room. She'd already been to the visiting hours last night - how strange, how cruel a term, "visiting hours" - but she hadn't been able to bring herself to see Lisa laid out in the casket. No, that was not something she could not do. Until now. Now she had to say goodbye. She'd never be able to live with herself if she didn't say good bye. Karen held the teddy bear with one hand, and in the other, a stalk of timothy, a wild rose, and secretly, a curled lock of her hair. "You OK kitten?" It was Daddy, and his strong hand on her shoulder gave her strength. Karen drew in a shuddery breath, and nodded quickly. She didn't remember the walk into the room, didn't remember the other people stepping out of the room as if they knew she was supposed to be alone one last time with her friend. When she opened her eyes, everything was blurry and indistinct until she blinked and cleared the tears. She let out an anguished moan, and her legs trembled and threatened to collapse. There were display boards flanking the casket like sentries, each covered with pictures of happy times. A low voice inside Karen's mind said You're in half those pictures, you know. The casket was white and the brass embellishments seemed to sparkle. The casket was in the embrace of dozens of floral arrangements, many with roses, Lisa's favorite flower. The focal point was the large portrait of Lisa, last year's school picture. Karen had an 8x10 framed in her bedroom at home. Lisa scribbled on the back, "To the bestest friend ever!! You rock!! Luv Lisa XOXOX." She didn't remember walking up to the casket, but she remembered seeing Lisa's lifeless form nestled in the caskets white lace cushions. Karen's inner voice was almost hysterical. She's supposed to look like she's sleeping, but she doesn't, she looks DEAD! At that, Karen's legs buckled at last. Daddy's strong hands kept her from collapsing onto the floor. He very subtly but very firmly made sure Karen's knees found the padded rail. When he was sure she wouldn't fall to the floor, he took several steps back so Karen could have her private good bye. There was no one else in the room. Overhead, music flowed softly from hidden speakers. She knew the music; she'd heard it before on a drive with Daddy. "Elvira Madigan," he'd called it. Now it was being seared into heart. Karen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Lisa's parents were Catholic; they wanted her dressed in in her beautiful white Easter dress. Her folded hands held a small crucifix, and one wrist was adorned with the charm bracelet she liked so much. Karen reached her trembling hand, still clutching the rose, the stalk of timothy and the lock of her hair, and touched Lisa's hair, and yes, it was as soft as it was on that magic day. Karen laid her cheek on the edge of the casket and looked at her friend while she twirled a strand of Lisa's hair. "Lisa," Karen whispered. "Don't leave me, please! Why? Why did you go in that canoe? Was it 'cause the moon was so bright? Oh Lisa, God, please. Are you being punished 'cause we hugged and kissed and danced? Oh god! You're the bestest friend ever, please tell me this isn't real, please tell me you ran away somewhere. It's not fair! It's! Not! Fair!" Karen took a deep breath and let it out in a harsh sob. Karen shifted herself so she could get close enough to whisper in Lisa's ear. "I thought about giving you the teddy bear to take with you, but I can't do it, I need her. You gave her to me, and I need her, but I got you a rose from that bush you like so much, the one where you got stung by the bee, 'member that? An' you didn't even cry." Karen tenderly nestled the rose into Lisa's hair, and a firm inner voice told her no one would disturb the rose. "An' I got you some hay to chew on, 'member how you always do that? An' I got you something else. I cut one of my curls off so you could take it with you, so you'll have a piece of me with you." Karen secretly pushed the lock of hair under Lisa's shoulder so no one would see it take it away. Karen's moan was one of unspeakable pain. The storm inside her was getting ready to break, just as the thunderstorm broke atop them that day. There would be no more of those magical days. A primal part of Karen's brain sensed her Daddy coming up behind her, and she knew what that meant. Karen straightened herself enough so she could lean over and plant a kiss on her friend's cheek, her tears dropping on Lisa's silent form. When Daddy touched the top of her head, Karen sobbed harshly. She didn't whisper when she cried out, "Lisa! I coulda loved you, an' I know you woulda loved me back!" A Secret and a Promise Karen's heart raced like a cornered rabbit. She knew what time it was. Daddy squatted down and touched her. "Come kitten." The part of Karen's brain still functioning recognized the painful quiver in Daddy's voice. The storm waves crashed against the rocks. Karen whipped herself around. "Why?" she demanded loudly. "Daddy! Tell me why she hadda die? Daddy, she wasn't bad! Why? It's not fair! Why can't anybody tell me why she hadda die?" Daddy gathered her into his strong arms. Suddenly, any semblance of control disappeared. Karen squirmed and tried to break away. "No! No! Please! I don't want her to go! She's my bestest friend!" When Daddy had her securely in his grip, he stood up. When Daddy turned, she was facing the casket and her friend for the last time. "No!" she cried, squirming. "No! Please!" At last, she cried out her friend's name in a high, keening lamentation, "Liiiiissssaaaaaa! Noooo, please! Liiiisssaaaa!" With each of Daddy's steps, she was further away from her friend. When Daddy reached the door, Lisa disappeared from her view, and Karen's soul crumbled. She went limp in her Daddy's arms, and her agonized sobs announced to all who heard that the destruction of her childhood was complete. ********** Karen had a hard time even looking at the lake, never mind bring herself to go in the water. She was a strong swimmer, where Lisa never got the hang of it. They used to joke about it. Lisa was OK as long as her head stayed above water when her feet were planted. Secretly, when they were behind closed doors, or out in the fields away from everyone and it was safe for them to tell their secrets to each other, Lisa would pout and say, "I feel so stupid that I can't swim." "Don't feel stupid," Karen would answer while savoring the warm glow in her tummy she always felt when she was alone with Lisa. "I can't run fast, and I don't feel stupid, an' I always lose at Tag or Hide 'n' Seek." Lisa would sigh, clearly unable to refute Karen's logic, yet not reassured by it. Instead, they contented themselves wading and squishing their toes in the mooshy remnants of last year's leaf fall, and keeping watch over the younger kids. At night though, she felt a strange compulsion to go sit on the end of the dock and look over the lake, the teddy bear nestled in the crook of her arm, and pine for her friend. At night she'd sit on the dock whenever the waning moon was visible, and curse it. "Yeah, go ahead and keep going away to hide, you bastard," Karen would whisper harshly at the ever waning moon. "It's your fault for bein' so bright, and now you only hide an' peek out to laugh at me." The end of the hot, muggy weather was heralded one evening when the moon was a waning crescent - God's thumbnail, Grampy called it - by a thunderstorm, which came barreling over the ridge, charging down the lake in a fury. Normally, unless she was with Lisa, thunderstorms made her edgy and nervous. But not this time. No, it brought back wonderful yet terrible memories with a stark clarity that was simply unbearable. She silently padded into the camp, and curled up on her bed, the teddy bear nestled close to her, and wept silently while images of the magical day tormented her. The day after the storm dawned bright, crisp, even a little cool. Normally it would be a day for exploring the fields and woods, fishing, and, for the older cousins, doing chores for Grampy. Karen tried to eat breakfast, but she had no appetite. She plopped down in front of the TV with the teddy bear and watched reruns of "Ren and Stimpy," "Doug" and "Rug Rats" on Nickelodeon. Her mother, who worked as the office manager for Daddy's growing general contracting business, was becoming worried enough about Karen that she stayed behind each morning until she was reasonably sure Karen was functional. "Karen honey," she called. "I have to go to work now. You OK?" By rote, Karen answered, "I'm fine Mom." But she wasn't fine. Her world was now little more than a thick, oppressive fog. She was enveloped by apathy, functioning on a kind of inner autopilot. Memories of the day of the thunderstorm, of their final weeks hanging out together, and worst of all, horrifying visions of how it must have been out on the lake. Those visions stabbed her like a spear, and left her mewling aloud in anguish. Without much conscious thought, she got up from in front of the TV and left the house. She had no destination in mind, just a vague, inarticulate need to move. Dressed in pink shorts, a unicorn t-shirt, and flip-flops, she made her way to the camp road and started walking aimlessly on the road away from the lake. A mile or two on, the camp road emptied onto the two-lane rural state route just down from Grampy's house, and the barn and garage where he repaired and sold all manner of farm and logging equipment. Karen's listless steps carried her in that direction, away from the lake. She hadn't gone far when she crossed paths with her cousin Jeremy. He was a year older than her, and he thought that meant he could boss her around, as if age alone bestowed certain privileges. "Hey Mopey-Dopey, where you going?" he called, running to catch up with her. Karen shrugged. "Nowhere's. Leave me alone Jeremy." "Jeezum crow, are you still mopin' about that. Get over it, life goes on." Karen stopped dead in her tracks, holding her teddy bear in one hand, the other hanging down and her fingers twitching ominously. Rising up suddenly from somewhere deep inside was an irrational, white hot anger. She instinctively checked it, but her breathing grew rapid, her heart began to pound like a jackhammer, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "Jeremy," she said, her voice low and measured. "I said, leave me alone. I'm not kidding." "Oh for cripe's sake, look at you, still carrying that teddy bear like a baby. You gotta get over it and grow up, you see what I'm sayin'?" Now her anger erupted. "I said!" she screamed with a force that left Jeremy looking stunned, "Leave! Me! Alonnnnne!" Karen dropped the bear and quickly gathered up stones and pebbles from the dirt road, and she began hurling them at Jeremy as hard as she could. "Hey!" Jeremy cried out, instinctively flinching. "Cut it out! No fair throwin' rocks." Karen didn't let up. As quickly as she could fling them and replenish her stock, she hurled the rocks. Several plunked her cousin and bounced off. He cried out in alarm, shock, and pain, and began retreating. Karen had never felt such a boiling, burning, irrational anger before. In the heat of her outrage, she hurled the most deadly swear she knew, one she'd never before uttered anywhere but the solitude of her room during sleepovers with friends. "Fuck! You! Leave me the fuck alone!" she screeched, still flinging rocks and chasing after her tormenter. Keeping instinctively scrunched up, Jeremy ran down a path leading to the lake to escape Karen's assault. When he disappeared down the path, Karen stopped at the edge of the road. "I tol' you to leave! Me! The fuck alone!" she screeched one final time. Karen stood at the edge of the road, looking down the path but not seeing anything except the crimson waves of her anger. Her face was flushed, her breathing harsh and rapid, and her fist hung at her side, clenching and unclenching. It seemed like an hour passed before she was calm enough to think clearly again. That asshole Jeremy was such a jerk sometimes. He knew now not to give her a hard time. Karen's mind drifted back to the blue funk she'd been in before Jeremy came and set her off. Even now, the only reason she moved was because she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of Grampy's green tractor, bup-bup-bup. Karen knew from the sound that Grampy was driving this way. He'd be here within two or three minutes. She went back and retrieved the teddy bear. "I'm sorry I dropped you," whispered to the bear. "But that Jeremy, he was bein' such a jerk, I hadda show him." She hugged the bear, and resumed her desultory stroll up the camp road toward the paved road and Grampy and Nanna's place. The bup-bup-bup grew louder until it was nearly on her. Karen turned around, and she couldn't help feeling a pleasant surge. Grampy, all gnarled up, sat in the metal seat of his green tractor, with it's enormous, deep treaded rear tires, tiny front tires angled in on each other (Why is that? She often wondered), engine you could see, and a lid over the vertical exhaust pipe that bounced up and down. He was hauling an old square hay baler. Grampy stopped the tractor when he came even with Karen. "Ahoy!" he cried out in a cheerful voice. "Methinks I see a lovely young damsel who wants a ride." Karen giggled in spite of herself. Grampy told the lamest jokes, but she always laughed at them. "Hi Grampy," she said. "Hop on up, little princess. This ain't no hoss drawn carriage, but it is a Deere." He chuckled at his own joke. Karen climbed up on the metal pegs Grampy had welded in place to make it easier for himself to get up and down. She'd ridden the tractor many times before, and Grampy had even let her try steering it, though that turned out to be impossible for her. Once up, she simply stood on the main horizontal frame rail and leaned back against Grampy. Grampy released the brake, let out the clutch and shifted into first gear. The tractor started forward as smoothly as car at an intersection. The Bup-bup-bup of the engine rose up to a bupbupbupbup and crept along not much faster than a quick walk. Karen could feel her anger melt away. For the first time since That Day, Karen felt at ease. Here was something and someone comfortable and familiar. She rested her gaze on Grampy's hands on the steering wheel. He was missing the pinkie and middle fingers on both hands. She asked him once how he lost them. "Well now, let's see if I can remember. This one," he said, indicating his right pinkie, "I lost that one to a tiger in Africa. The middle one, well Nanna cut that one off cause I was using it to say bad things. That other pinkie, well it got stuck my ear when I was scratchin' it, and I hadda take my jackknife to it. That middle one, I cut that one off to balance everything so I wouldn't walk crooked." Karen had collapsed in peals of laughter, telling Grampy he was such a liar. But at the same time, she wasn't totally sure if he was telling the truth or just having fun with her. Grampy suddenly broke into a cheerful song. "She'll be comin' 'round the mountain when she comes, She'll be comin' round the mountain when she comes, She'll be ridin' six white hosses, She'll be ridin' six white hosses, she'll be ridin' six white hosses when she comes." Karen giggled in spite of herself. "Well here's a girl who appreciates my singin. Maybe I oughta make a record, whatcha think?" "Not with that song," Karen giggled. "How 'bout this one then," Grampy said. He started singing in his crusty voice, "On a summer's day in the month of May A burly bum came hiking, down a shady lane through the sugarcane, looking for his liking. He strolled along and hummed a song of a land of milk and honey, where a bum can stay for many a day and he won't need any money. Oh the buzzin' of the bees and the cigarette trees, by the soda water fountain, by the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings, in the Big Rock Candy Mountains. In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, you never change your socks. Little streams of alkeehol come a tricklin down the rocks. The farmer's trees are full of fruits, the barns are full of hay. I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow, where the sleet don't fall, and the wind don't blow, in the big rock candy mountain." Karen was giggling uncontrollably. Grampy seemed to know how to raise her up from her inner crypt. He always did, pulling out silly old songs like this and making her feel warm and loved. Before he could finish the song, they were in the sprawling gravel driveway in front of the barn and garage. There were gleaming tractors, hay balers, harrows, tedders, plows, log splitters, and all manner of equipment arrayed for sale on the lawn between the house and the barn and garage. The barn, it's door open, held Grampy's farm equipment. The garage was empty now. Grampy stopped the tractor in the middle of the yard, and he shut it off. "Well now," he said, jumping off. He held his arms up, took Karen in his strong hands, and lowered her to the ground. "This ol' baler seen better days. Whatcha think? Is it worth tryin' to fix, or should I just retire it? Seen a lot of summers, baled a lotta hay." "I don't know, Grampy," Karen giggled. "Well, let's go in the garage and get some tools, and we'll see if she can stand one more operation." Karen followed her Grampy into the empty garage bay. She always loved the smell of oil, kerosene, and grease. It was comfortable and rich and soothing. They'd no sooner gotten into the garage when Jeremy came bolting out of the house, his expression one of righteous anger. "There you are!" he declared, glaring at Karen. "Ain't throwing no rocks now that Grampy's here." "Jeremy..." Karen began, her voice rising. "Hush," Grampy said softly, but firmly, and Karen reluctantly clamped her mouth shut. "Grampa!" Jeremy cried. "She threw rocks at me, and said the worst swears!! I din't do nothing, either." Before Karen could protest, she noticed Grampy was scowling at Jeremy from under the bill of his green, oil and grime smattered work hat. "Jeremy, are you a boy or a girl?" By the sudden change in his expression, it was clear Jeremy knew he was being called out by Grampy. He looked at the ground and scuffed his feet. "A boy." "Then act like one," Grampy said in an even voice. "Now go do your chores." When he was gone, Grampy shook his head. "Never mind him, he just don't know any better. Now, I want you to go in the house and get some lunch. Your Daddy and Mommy are worried you ain't eatin' properly lately, and that ain't good for a growin' girl. Nanna'll fix you a nice thick fried bologna san'wich, which I happen to know is your fav'rite." Karen looked at her feet, and said, "I haven't been very hungry lately, Grampy." "I know that, an' I know why. I ain't a girl, so I can't say I un'erstand your way of grieving. But I'll tell you som'thin' I ain't told many people." Grampy took out his pipe, and as he spoke, he went through the ritual of filling and lighting it. "When I was a young man, I was in the Navy durin' World War Two, on a ship called a destroyer, over in the south Pacific, exactly where don't matter. I had me a great friend, best ever, name of Jim Deakins. We was both on the deck crew, the pissants who done alla nasty work no one else wanted to do. One night, our ship got inna scrap with some Japanese ships. Well, they put a torpedo in us, blew the ship all to hell, and sunk her. Was I scared? I was never so scared in my life. The details don't matter. My friend Jim got hurt. Bad. We was in the water, I'd muckled on to some piece o' floating junk. I heard my friend Jim callin' for me to help him. I tried swimmin' over to him, but by the time I got where I thought he was - nothin'. I din't hear him no more. I din't have the time or the chance to grieve. It was war, and, well, war don't care if someone was your friend, war is all about tryin to kill, you best get used to it, or you'll be the one gettin' killed. It don't like grievin'. But I never forgot Jim. He lives here." Grampy thumped his chest. "Now I ain't ever gonna talk about it again, but now you know somethin' even your Daddy don't know, and I hope you don't be talkin' with others about it. It's a secret we share, somethin' terrible we have in common." Karen watched her Grampy closely as he told his story, and she knew with absolute certainty that he wasn't making it up. There was a sadness she never saw before on his creased-leather face. Suddenly, without thinking about it, she flung herself on her Grampy and hugged him. "I love you Grampy. I won't tell anyone. Ever. I promise." "I know you won't, sweetheart. I wouldn't of told you if I didn't think I could trust you. Just remember, your friend will always be with you, in your secret heart. Now go get somethin' to eat." Karen's cheeks glistened with tears. "OK, I will." *************** School was just a few days away, but Karen couldn't generate any emotions over it, positive or negative. In normal times, back-to-school shopping would be nearing its climax, and Karen, Lisa, and their other friends would excitedly discuss what they were getting for new school outfits and accessories, what was cool, what wasn't, what middle school would be like, whether or not various rumors about the new and intimidating teachers were true. Not this year, though. School without Lisa was beyond imagining. All it conjured in her was a low, formless dread. She simply went through the motions when shopping, trying mightily to appear engaged. Tomorrow would be the last shopping day, and she could put that painful exercise behind her. Karen went to bed early, anxious for the escape from pain sleep brought. She dreamed neutral dreams most nights, so there was no fear of nightmares. She slipped on her nightie, kissed her mother and father goodnight, and slipped under the crisp covers. She hugged the teddy bear close and drifted off. ************** It was an unusually vivid dream. Karen was at what she knew was school, but it didn't look anything like any school she ever attended, a mish-mash of the familiar and places her brain created. That didn't matter. It was the first day of school, and she couldn't find any of her classes, and everyone she passed in the corridors was a stranger. She felt like she'd wandered onstage in the middle of the play. If only she could find a friend who would tell her where her classes were. And where the heck was Lisa? Lisa would know where they were supposed to be. Just as she scolded herself, "She's dead, dummy," Karen turned a corner and there was Lisa, standing at an open locker. She looked up and smiled when she saw Karen. Karen ran to her friend. "Lisa, I thought you were dead," she cried with excited glee at her friend's unexpected appearance. "I am dead," Lisa said matter-of-factly. "You know that. You were at my funeral." Karen pulled up short. "Yeah, but you're here now, I can see you," Karen protested. Lisa shrugged, still smiling. "Doesn't matter." "You can't be dead!" Karen cried. "Why not?" "Because I miss you. And I love you, Lisa. I love you!" "And I loved you too, really, I did." "Then don't go," Karen pleaded. "I have to, Karen. I just wanted to tell you I loved you." Lisa turned to face her locker, and she started to step into it. "Lisa! Don't go! Please! I can't go one without you." "Yes you can. Remember what Grampy said. He was right, I'll always be there, right where he said." The vaguely familiar school had dissolved into the more familiar tree-lined street leading to the school. Lisa turned and walked away, unmoved by Karen's frantic pleas to stay, even just for a while. Karen came awake instantly. The teddy bear was mashed between her face and the pillow, and she sobbed and wept uncontrollably. Through her tears, she tried to make sense of the dream. It had been so real, so vivid. After a time - she had no idea how long - her sobs tapered, and her tears eased to a trickle. Karen lifted her head and glanced at the digital alarm clock on her night stand. 1:37, the dead of night, the house absolutely still and quiet. She sat up, paused, then padded barefoot to the bathroom so she could blow her nose. When she returned to her bedroom, Karen peeled off her nightie, grabbed a pair of shorts and t-shirt from her bureau, pulled them on, then found her flip-flops. She silently crept from the house and into the night air. It was comfortably cool, not a hint of a breeze. She made her way down the road. Lisa's house was only three houses down. Karen knew where she was going, but she didn't know why yet, nor did she question the inner impulse that pushed her there. She made her way down the side of the road, until she reached the driveway of Lisa's house. A Secret and a Promise Karen stood at the edge of the dooryard and looked at the house, once a warm and comfortable place, now dark and vaguely foreboding. As bad as her grief was, she contemplated how much worse it had to be for Lisa's brothers and her parents. Were they having nightmares as they slept? Were they getting on with life, or pining like she was doing. Yes, that was it, Lisa had called it pining in the dream, and that's what it was. A song slipped into Karen's head. Something her father listened to, something she'd heard several times, one of her father's favorites. Something powerful and profound, and oddly familiar. Karen made her way across the lawn to the back of the house, her flip-flops slapping in a steady rhythm as she walked. In the rear of the house, the back edge of the lawn ended at the tall, high grass of the meadow. Karen stood silently for a moment. Her brain remembered the low, sonorous, melancholy sound of a bass violin, melding in time with the gentle, soothing sounds of violins. She smiled at how clearly she heard the music in her head. At last, Karen looked skyward. Above her, the air was crystal clear, and the heaven's blazed in their regal glory, a million stars making the sky come alive. And the moon. It was a waxing gibbous, about halfway through the last quarter, and it was directly above, casting its ghostly light, bright enough to light Karen's way. Karen pushed the chest high grass aside and stepped into the meadow. She plowed through the tangled grass, not thinking about where she was going, but absolutely sure of the way to get there. The moon followed behind her, the face looking as though it were peering from behind a doorjamb, checking to see if the coast was clear, yet indifferent to the twelve-year old girl pushing through the meadow grass in the dead of night. When she felt the ground under her feet soften to mud, Karen kicked off her flip-flops and picked them so they wouldn't get sucked off in the muck. The mud got goopier and wetter with each step, the meadow grass gave way to reeds and cattails, until she was splashing through ankle deep water, her feet plunging into the sludge with a kerploop-schlurp with each step, releasing faintly poopy smell each time. There might be any number of mud-dwelling creatures she'd normally find repulsive under her feet, but she took no heed. At last, the water gave way to mud, and the mud to solid ground, the reeds and cattails dissolved back into meadow. She pushed her way through the Queen-Anne's-Lace, goldenrod, and grasses. The moon lit her way, but she didn't need it. Her feet knew exactly how to get to where she had to go. In the cold, sterile light of the moon directly overhead, the old tractor shed stood as it had the day of the thunderstorm, collapsed on itself, a single briar entangled corner left standing. Karen's lip began to quiver, and the lump in her chest grew until it was uncontainable. She let out a loud sob. Trembling heavily, she made her way around to the hidden entrance to the magic place. Karen looked up at the moon, sobbing as she did. "It's your fault," she cried. "Don't try hiding your face. You know it was your fault! You made it so they'd want to go on the lake! Then you watched! You watched! You din't even try to hide behind a cloud! Now you try to play dumb! Fuck you! Fuck! You!" Karen, her legs shaking, slipped through the secret entrance, now almost completely hidden by weeds, grass, wildflowers. She laid down in the spot where she and Lisa had embraced and kissed, where the roof broke open to drench them in rainwater, where she'd experienced the single most thrilling moment of her life, the place where she almost told Lisa, "I love you." Now she clutched the bear to her face and said, over and over through her tears and sobs, "I love you, I love you." When the well of her tears finally emptied Karen sat up. She wiped her nose on the back of her forearm. Her voice hitched and trembled and she said aloud, "Lisa, you din't tell me if we're being punished for being girls and loving each other. I promise not to be like that with another girl. I learned my lesson. Just you. Bye, Lisa," she said to the bear. Karen stood up and made her way out of the secret, magic place. She looked up at the moon. "There. You happy now?"