Several factors led me to visit Hollowtree Boat Rentals this afternoon. It’s Memorial Day and I had the day off work. My family lives too far away for me to join their barbecue, and I never really knew my grandparents who served in the military so I didn’t feel like going to a cemetery service. All of my friends and coworkers already had plans, and I don’t like crashing parties so my original plan was to stay home with a bowl of ice cream and a TV show.
Halfway into an episode of Downton Abbey, the sun came out from behind the clouds and I honestly felt guilty for wasting such a nice day inside. I seemed to recall a boat rental service about half an hour away that was having a Memorial Day weekend promotion for half price kayak rentals, so I hopped in my car and drove down to the lake.
When I arrived there were only two other cars in the parking lot, and no one was on the lake. That should have been my first sign that maybe this wasn’t the most reputable of establishments. Nevertheless, I had driven here, so I decided to go ahead and rent a kayak. The worker outfitted me with a life jacket and paddle, both of them emblazoned with the company’s logo, before taking me to the docks and helping me into a boat. At first I was nervous that any small movement could capsize me, but after several feet of anxious paddling I got the hang of it. I’ll be honest, it was nice having the whole lake to myself. It was relaxing, and the sun was warm without being overly hot. As I reached the middle of the lake I set my paddle across my lap and allowed myself to drift.
It was after about ten minutes that I was jolted out of my state of relaxation by something hitting the bottom of my boat. My first thought was that I had somehow run aground. Maybe there was a barely-covered sandbar that I had floated into. I stuck my paddle into the water to move backwards. As I drew it up, a horrible stench came with it. I can only describe it as if someone had dropped rotting flesh into a bucket of bleach. The smell was so strong that I almost tipped the boat just from the violent recoil of my body. It was then that I saw some sort of putrid muck dripping from the end of the paddle. It was a grisly gray color that vaguely resembled when you mix cornstarch and water to make that weird goo that’s not quite solid or liquid. I hurtled the end of the paddle back into the water and pushed as hard as I could to go forward. It was stuck on something and refused to budge. I tried pulling the other way and the pressure finally succeeded in freeing the kayak from whatever had caught the bottom.
Unfortunately, I had been unconsciously leaning so far to one side while pulling that as soon as the boat released, it tipped and I was flung into the water unceremoniously. The life jacket kept me afloat, but the smell of bleach permeated every sense and my skin burned. My thrashing caused a drop of water to land in my eye and I was hit with immense pain. Every attempt to wipe it out just worsened the problem with more burning water until I couldn’t even bear to open the eye out of agony. I struggled to get the kayak upright again as I realized my foot was caught in something. I brought it as high as I could and reached my hand under the water to rip whatever it was. A piece of a net floated to the surface as my foot was freed. The rest of the net followed seconds later, and the water began to bubble around me as if some great underwater mass had just been set loose.
When the first body surfaced, I vomited into the water. It wasn’t recognizable as a human anymore; the skin and tissue was congealed into the same gray substance I had seen on my paddle. The awful smell intensified as more bodies popped above the surface, all of them in the same—or worse—condition as the first one. Aside from their horrifying appearance, they all had something in common: they were wearing lifejackets with the same logo that adorned mine. There had to be at least a dozen of these bodies, but I didn’t stick around to count. I pulled myself into the kayak, grabbed my paddle which was still floating nearby, and paddled as fast as I could back to the dock. I have no idea how long it took, but it felt like hours. My eyes still burned, my skin was bright red, and the image of the floating corpses haunted my mind.
As I pulled up to the dock, I didn’t bother waiting for the worker to help me out of the boat. I hoisted myself out, threw the life jacket on the ground, and sprinted to my car. I ended up driving myself to the nearest hospital, where they told me I would have permanent vision damage from the chemical burns on my eyeball. When they asked how I had sustained my injuries, I was at a loss for words. Surely I was a strange sight, burned all over and soaking wet with that horrid smell still clinging to my clothes. All I said was that I had gone swimming in a lake where there may have been a chemical spill. The doctor told me to report it to the department of fish and wildlife. Verbally I agreed, but I knew that no one would ever believe me if I told them what had happened.
They’re having me stay in the hospital overnight to deal with the shock and make sure there are no other side effects. I’m laying here, trying to fall asleep, but I’m overwhelmed by a horrible feeling. I have a feeling that I was never supposed to escape that water.
Something tells me that as soon as I put on the life jacket, I was supposed to become one of those floating bodies rotting in a burning lake.