Изменить стиль страницы

*   *   *

Inside the Pavilion, Heil was standing in-between two pinball machines, hanging a sign that read PLAY MACHINES AT YOUR OWN RISK. Although the space between the two machines was wide enough for two people to stand side by side, he was wedged in tightly, his large stomach hanging over the waist of his shorts. His tube socks were pulled high on his calves, covering the lower half of his pasty, tree-trunk legs.

“What do you have there?” he asked, talking through the nail pinched between his lips. With some effort, he got himself out from between the two machines. Adam handed him the bit.

“He found it in the lake,” Ted said.

Heil turned the metal over in his hands. “What is it?”

No one spoke. Not even Megan.

“Well?” he asked. “It looks like a piece of garbage. People shouldn’t litter in our waters. It’s a crime.” He tried to sound authoritative, but the waver in his voice confirmed he was just as anxious as they were about their treasure. “I’ll just hang onto this. It’s not something you kids should be playing with.”

“If it’s garbage,” Adam said, “why can’t I have it back?”

Heil took a step toward Adam, who shrank under Heil’s large belly. “You shouldn’t be playing with a scrap of metal. And don’t you kids be telling tall tales. Do you hear?” He pushed through the center of their circle, taking the horse’s bit with him.

Adam’s shoulders drooped. “Now what?”

“It was nothing but junk anyway,” Ted said.

“But what if it wasn’t junk? And there’s other stuff out there,” Ned said to his brother.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Ned said. “Other things like an old saddle or horseshoe or maybe even a horse’s skull.” He then turned to Adam, excited. “Show us again where you found it.”

“I don’t know,” Adam said. They went around in circles this way for several minutes, trying to coax Adam into showing them the exact spot where he had found the horse’s bit.

Megan took off her sunglasses and inspected her face in the lens. “Can you still see my eye shadow?” she asked Caroline.

“What? No,” Caroline said absently, not paying attention. She could’ve sworn she heard someone scream. By this time, the twins had convinced Adam to show them where he had found the metal. The boys started heading back outside.

“You didn’t even look,” Megan protested.

“Shhh,” she said, bringing her pointer finger to her lips. “Listen.”

The second shriek had both she and Megan turned toward the open doors that led to the beach and lake. The twins disappeared outside. Adam was a step behind them and still in the Pavilion. He turned back and looked at Caroline as if he was asking if she heard it too.

Two guys shooting pool put their sticks down. A family at the snack stand looked over their shoulders. There was another scream, this one higher pitched and more frantic. A man standing near the counter touched his wife’s arm before jogging toward the open doors that led to the swimming area. The guys shooting pool quickly followed.

There was more hollering, followed by another screech that pierced Caroline’s ears. Terror pounded inside her chest. She was afraid to move.

She was too afraid not to move.

*   *   *

Caroline grabbed Megan’s arm and pulled her through the Pavilion, down the stairs, and onto the beach. They joined Adam and the twins. A crowd had gathered—men, women, kids, toddlers. Through the crowd, she saw the woman in the wide-brimmed sun hat—Sara’s mother—wading in the water up to her waist. She was screaming a name at first Caroline couldn’t understand. Adam’s mother stood on the pier near the high dive, also calling a name. It sounded like “Sara.”

The man from the snack stand reached Sara’s mother in the water. Her arms flailed as she talked with him. He nodded a few times before he also started calling Sara’s name.

Caroline searched the beach, weaving in and out of the crowd, stepping over blankets, scurrying past beach chairs, and looking for the little girl with the blond braids and bright blue eyes. Her gaze stopped on the sign posted on the chain-link fence: SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK. She glanced at the empty lifeguard stand, where someone should’ve been sitting, watching. But of course no one was, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt backed up in her throat. She shouldn’t have left the little girl alone. She should’ve stayed with her. She should’ve been watching.

Johnny and his friends stormed onto the beach. Chris ran straight for the lake, shouting at the hysterical woman, “How old?”

“Seven,” Sara’s mother cried out. “She’s seven.”

Caroline watched as Chris dove under. Johnny bumped into her arm as he pushed past her through the crowd. He ran into the lake, diving into the water near Chris. The hair on her arms stood up, and a chill climbed up her spine even as moisture gathered on her forehead in the hot sun.

“Johnny!” she yelled, suddenly terrified for her brother’s safety.

A woman in the crowd asked, “What’s the girl’s name?”

“Sara,” another man said.

Someone called out, “I’ll check the Pavilion. Maybe she wandered off inside.”

Other men in the crowd began peeling off their shirts and rushing into the lake. Some did a surface sweep, looking for signs of the girl above the water. Others dove like seals, plunging into the murky depths, popping up to the surface, only to plummet once again. Bystanders collectively held their breath. When either Johnny’s or Chris’s head emerged from the dark ripples, Caroline allowed herself to breathe with them.

Heil joined the group on the beach. “Help is on the way,” he said to the few adults nearby. His face was grim. Sweat stained the navy blue T-shirt pulled tight across his expansive stomach. He wiped his brow.

Caroline stared at the lake and laced her arm through Megan’s, needing to hold onto something, someone. The sun glared, scorching the top of her head. Sweat trickled down her back. She made a promise to herself that if Sara was found, she would play with her, swim with her, watch over her, and never let her out of her sight for the rest of the summer.

“Pavilion’s empty,” a woman said.

Caroline recognized the woman as one of the cabin owners in the colony. She had two boys, four and six years old. Caroline had watched them learn to swim in the shallow end of the lake last summer. Now their mother wrapped her arms around their shoulders and pulled them close. She kissed the tops of their heads, and Caroline imagined she was grateful they were safe by her side.

Several long minutes passed.

Some of the men who had started out strong in their search slowly swam toward the beach. Their breathing was heavy, and their faces lined with defeat. Johnny and Chris were still out there, diving down, trying to reach bottom. Searching. But too much time had gone by. Sara had been under too long. The crowd had grown quiet. Caroline’s entire body shook from the inside out.

A siren cut the silence. The sheriff’s vehicle pulled into the parking lot. In the next few seconds an underwater rescue and recovery truck pulled into the lot, towing a boat. The spectators parted as Heil opened the gate for the sheriff and the recovery team to enter the beach area. A diving crew worked hard to unload the watercraft. More sirens shattered the air, and an ambulance pulled alongside the truck. Medics jumped out carrying first aid gear.

The man from the snack stand grabbed ahold of Sara’s mother and led her to shore. Medics rushed to her side. She rocked back and forth, back and forth. A shrill moan escaped from her lips. One of the medics guided her to sit in the sand and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. A man from the recovery team, the one who looked to be in charge, asked her questions about Sara, trying to determine the last time she had seen her, the possible location in the water where she could have disappeared.