The impossible is happening. I don’t know what exactly I should do, but whatever choice I make the outcome is going to kill me.
I live in a small southern town where everyone goes to the same two bars on Saturdays and the same church every Sunday. It’s quiet here and the kind people are why I chose to live in this town after I graduated from college, even though I’m more of a hermit than a bar or church goer.
We have nature though. It encroaches on everything. Massive oak trees covered in wisteria and English ivy line every street and driveway in town. When spring hits, it hits us hard. The dreary grey trees and shrubs of winter come alive with colorful flowers and the scent is so strong you could nearly choke from the sweetness.
And the lake is just the same. Over flowing with Lilly pads, turtles and the occasional alligator. During the daytime hours the lake is busy. Bustling with kayakers, fishermen and of course the party pontoons. Making it the best place in town to go when you have no plans elsewhere.
But at night, it’s empty.
I live about 4 blocks from the lake and have the bad habit of falling asleep around 8pm and waking up at midnight with too much energy and no way to burn it off. On nights like that, I throw on some shoes, grab a flashlight and walk the 4 blocks to a roped off dirt road that continues for about 300 feet till I reach an abandoned dock at the end. I like to sit on the dock and watch the moon and city lights reflect off the ripples. The steam gently rising from the night black waters always sends a calm through my bones. I don’t need to sit there for long. About 30 minutes or so before I start to feel tired. Then I simply turn on my flashlight and walk the dark path back to my home where I fall into a peaceful sleep. I usually do this about once a week for the past several years and it’s always been the perfect remedy for my late night restlessness.
Then 2 weeks ago that all changed.
It was a Thursday and I was under a lot of stress at work, even considering finding a new job. Something I didn’t exactly want to do since I had worked so hard to get to the position I am in now with my current employer. So, of course I was restless. The trip to the lake was the same as always. I sat on the dock this time for longer than usual. Not getting the same calm I usually get from the midnight waters. Frustrated by my own mental state and the failure of my nighttime lake therapy session, I started talking. (I never talk to myself. I have an internal dialog and don’t see much of a point to speaking that out loud.)
“Tell me what to do” was all I said to the calm waters. My fingers found a rock or bit of gravel off to the side of my leg and I threw it into the lake. I couldn’t see where it landed but I heard it plunk into the water some distance away. I lay back on the dock and decided to stare at the stars instead. A few seconds or possibly minutes ticked by before I heard the cracking noise of a small solid object bouncing across the wooden dock.
I sat up to get a look at what it could be and there next to my right hand was a rock. A wet rock…the same rock I had tossed into the lake. It had been tossed back to me. Chills went down my spine at that point and I’m not sure how long I sat there not breathing before I finally picked it up. Yes, it was real. My mind was not imagining things. I held it in my hand for some time, staring at it before I looked out into the lake and said the first thing that came to mind, which in hindsight, was a weird thing to say to an empty lake.
“Hello?”
No response.
Of course there wasn’t going to be a response. A fish or something probably just slapped the rock back out of the water. Because that happens. Right? That’s what I was telling myself anyway when I decided to high tail it back to my house. Needless to say I stayed awake that night watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother and not at all thinking about what happened at the lake.
A few days went by. I visited with family over the weekend and was occupied enough to not think about the rock and the lake. But that didn’t last long of course and my restlessness was gnawing at me so I went back down the dirt road and sat on my trusty dock. Rock in hand, I threw it into the waters once again and waited intently for what would happen. This time I heard a voice. It started almost like a vibration. I could feel a rumbling coming from beneath me before a light and fluid voice spoke. “What do you want?” The words flowed thick, sounding almost like a melody. Dumbfounded I sat there with my mouth open not saying anything. The voice was coming from the lake. As though the entire lake was speaking to me. “What do you want?” It asked again, and I finally found my words. “I don’t want anything.” I croaked to the water, throat having gone dry. Was I really talking to a lake? Was I going mad? Maybe I fell asleep and was dreaming this? That would be great. It would mean I was actually getting some rest. But no I wasn’t dreaming.
“You sit by me often and asked me what to do. I am asking you what you want. Then I will tell you what to do.” Sang the lake.
I stood up and started pacing on the dock. Feeling scared of course, but also a sense of opportunity. My mind was buzzing with ideas on what to ask the lake for, as well as trying to wrap around the impossible realization that my lake can grant wishes. So I thought long and hard about what I really wanted and then froze when I figured it out. The whole reason I had the job that I had was because I had a mountain of debt and needed something that paid well so I could pay it off but I actually hated my job. I felt trapped in my work. Unable to sustain any meaningful relationship as they would always get tired of me being busy or mentally a mile a way as I dreamed of a life I could take the time to enjoy. A life with someone I loved, a life where I could travel, a life where I could sleep at night. So I knew exactly what to wish for.
I turned to the lake. “I want my debt to disappear.” “It’s done”
The response was immediate and I threw my hands into the air. All this time I could have asked the lake to clear my debt. I felt silly for not thinking of it sooner, but then who would ever think of that?
But the lake was not finished. It said it would tell me what to do…and it did.
“Bring me a sacrifice. Anyone you deem unworthy of living. Bring them tomorrow at midnight. Drown them.”
“No.” I shook my head. There was no way I was going to kill a person just to clear my debt. “You can give me my debt back.” “It is done. Bring them tomorrow at midnight.” “I’m not killing someone.” I shouted into the black waters, fear and conviction coating my words. “IT IS DONE.” this time when the lake spoke the dock shook, sending me to my knees. The water rippled violently before settling smooth as glass, the lazy steam disappearing all together. An earie silence stilled the night around me. Pausing the crickets in their song and killing the breeze. My blood ran cold. The only sound was that of my own heartbeat as I backed off the dock and ran home.
I didn’t sleep that night or the next. I kept thinking about the demand of the water and couldn’t bring myself to do what it asked of me. So I didn’t bring anyone to the lake at midnight. What could the lake possibly do to me except hand me back my debt? If I don’t go to the water, then what could it do? That was the rationalization I came up with and I was absolutely, terribly wrong.
The following evening I felt desperate for a drink, unable to be alone anymore in my house and scared to death of the lake and it’s demands. I headed to the bar closest to my home. While I sat sipping my beer I overheard an older man at the end of the bar talking to someone about an incident on the lake and my ears perked up.
“It’s sad about what happened to Jerry today. He’s been fishing out there every weekend for 30 years. How does someone that knowledgeable about the lake just fall in and drown?” “And in just a few feet of water too. His boat was only a few yards from his own dock. Poor fella.” The men raised their glasses in a toast to their fallen comrade before hanging their heads in sorrow and disbelief. Sometimes people drown on the lake but it’s not often. Last case I heard about was someone drinking on one of the party pontoons and drowning a couple years ago. I went back to studying my beer and figured it must just be a coincidence. Or that the lake had chosen for me since I was too much of a coward to do it myself…once again, I struggled to sleep and felt in some way, responsible for Jerry’s death.
The following day at work, the woman I normally share an office with was absent. I don’t know her very well but she has three kids who always seem to be sick so it’s not unusual for her to be out, but I still checked in with my boss to make sure.
“Hey Bill, do you know if Cindy is coming in today?” I asked as I stood in the doorway to his corner office. “Why don’t you have a seat.” He gestured towards the arm chair parked infront of his desk. I didn’t like the sound of this and I sat down, thinking maybe Cindy had been let go and that I might be next. He took a moment before finally answering. “Cindy and her youngest daughter were found in the lake this morning. They drowned sometime earlier, before dawn I suppose. We still aren’t sure why or how.”
He kept talking, something about flowers and food for the family, but I couldn’t hear him. I was in shock. Three deaths in two days. All of which happened in the lake. I didn’t get much work done that day as I was feeling absolutely plagued and sick to my stomach at the thought. I knew then that I was responsible for those three deaths and that something needed to happen but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do anything yet.
It’s been four days and there have been twelve more deaths. The lake wants my sacrifice. If I don’t bring someone to the water to drown by my hand then it will continue to kill innocent people. And every day more and more people are dying because of me. People aren’t going on the water anymore, yet they are still found facedown in the lake. Having been called to the dark waters sometime in the night. Sending themselves as willing sacrifices until I am able to meet the lakes demands. The thought of killing someone to stop the deaths of many is getting easier to grasp yet I chose this town because of how good the people are. To kill anyone of them would ruin me. I would have no debt, yet I’d also still have no life. I have no life as it is, the guilt is eating at me. A part of me washes away with every life that is taken by the water. I can’t think of anyone worth sacrificing…except maybe myself.