The irrational side of me said it was just stress. I was only two months into a new work from home job and had a history of waking up violently from nightmares.. Add in the death of several family members within a short amount of time and it made sense that I never woke feeling rested.
The rational side of me knew it was because of what happened last weekend.
It had been an awful week. I made several big mistakes at work, missed my own graduate school graduation, and spent way more money than I had budgeted on my cats annual vet visit. Kayaking at Lake Allwoods seemed like the perfect way to destress that Saturday morning. It was as close to heaven as you could get. Massive trees surrounded the whole lake. Red maples, hearty oaks, and weeping willows towered above the water. Arborist from all over the state visited Lake Allwood to study the trees. Somehow they were immune to the blight attacking trees in droves downstate. Several critically endangered fish lived in the lake; it was a hefty fine for anyone caught fishing there. Families tended towards the more commercialized Silver Lake, where there were designated swimming areas and real bathrooms.
I grabbed my gear, slathered on sunscreen, and spent the twenty minute drive singing along to my favorite band since high school. I was finally beginning to feel more like me after such a horrible week. Crunching into the rock covered parking lot, I laughed as I saw Doug running from his kayak rental shack to my car. We’d become friends several summers ago and often joked I was there so often I was part of the scenery.
“Been a while,” he joked, helping untie my kayak from the roof.
“The perks of corporate life,” I groaned, dramatically rolling my eyes.
“It’s not so bad,” he promised. “Thirty-five years as an accountant left me with enough money to retire and do this. I figure once you’re ready to retire this little baby will become yours, right?”
I laughed as he spoke. Doug always talked about leaving me what he affectionately called his baby, but we both knew I’d abandon the kiosk for the water as soon as I hit the pebbly beach. Being on the water was in my blood.
We talked for another few minutes before I set out. I had the whole lake to myself; today was the first day of the towns annual Tulip Festival. The lake was always calm, the breeze sending gently ripples across its surface. I was grateful for the occasional cloud cover after paddling hard to the floating dock in the middle of the lake. I had a routine; paddle to the dock, swim a bit, paddle to Rocky Point on the other side of the lake, swim, then time myself as I raced back. Doug and I competed for who had the best time at the end of each month.
I started paddling slowly to Rocky Point after my swim. The breeze must have picked up some as the ripples in the lake got bigger, but it was hard to tell when soaking wet. Small goosebumps covered my body despite the hot air. This was exactly the escape I needed.
A tree limb bobbed in the water. It wasn’t uncommon for branches or other natural debris to end up in the lake, but something about the way it moved interested me. I slowly paddled over, trying not to disturb the water too much. There was no real current on the lake yet somehow the limb didn’t seem to be getting any closer. I paddled faster. My dark purple kayak slid across the water easily. The limb bobbed up and down before sinking into the water suddenly. I stared in confusion. The movement was too quick, too jerky, to make any real sense of it. Most of the fish in the lake only grew to be about 3 feet long, and the limb was too large for one to drag it down.
I paddled to the spot I thought it had disappeared and looked into the dark water. Unless it was right at the surface, nothing was visible in the lake. Yet I swear I saw a flash of gold. I leaned to the side a bit more and- I knew it! I did see something! A circle of gold flashed beneath the water, deeper than most visible things. It felt… wrong. My heart started pounding and my breath was shallow and fast. I turned to look left, to gauge the distance to Rocky Point, just in time to see the tree limb pop back up to the surface. It was close enough I could see it clearly now. It was a limb for sure. Just not one from a tree.
I shrieked as the branches at the end curled like a human hand and opened towards me. Something grabbed my paddle from the right and pulled. This time I screamed. I yanked back hard on the paddle and pulled it free, frantically crashing it into the other side, desperate to get to the shore. I poured all my energy into paddling. Suddenly all momentum stopped and the back of the kayak dipped low into the water. I wish I hadn’t turned around. I wish I had never seen the black fingers of the bony limb grasping the kayak in its massive hand. The front of the kayak rose and water rushed into the cockpit. I screamed and smashed the hand with my paddle, furious and scared and too panicked to notice what was happening in the water until it was too late. A massive gold orb stared up at me and with horror I realized it was the creatures eye. In seconds I was underwater, screaming and flailing, too terrified to release my skirt and fight my way back to the surface.
I lost my grip on the paddle and watched it float up, up, up to the surface. I was being dragged down, my blood curdling scream deaf to all but the fish and the creature. I was jerked around, coming face to face with whatever the hellish monster before me was.
An impossibly deep voice filled my head and sunk deep into my bones. “You.”
Graphic visions flooded my brain. Rotting trees. Desiccated fish. Mangled and twisted birds. Bloated corpses of drowned children. Bark - no - flesh peeling from around the gold eye. My own face, melting, dripping under a scorching sun.
With a brilliant blue flash I was suddenly back on the surface, unharmed. I was ice cold, frozen in place, the paddle gripped so tightly in my hands they were white.
I don’t know how I made it back to shore, or even home for that matter. All I do know is that every night since I’ve woken up screaming, clawing at my sheets with stiff, slowly blackening fingers. I must have stayed out in the sun too long last weekend. My skin feels burned and keeps peeling in large chunks. No matter how much water I drink I’m still so parched. It’s only Wednesday, but somehow I don’t think I can make it to Saturday before visiting Lake Allwoods again.