Liquid Lies Part 2

Two hours later, we arrived at the last dock on our route before we'd head back to the pavilion. This particular dock was always the trickiest because it jutted out at an odd angle. The rest of the docks pointed straight out into the lake.

After closing the mailbox, I turned around to make a run for the stern. My heart raced. The gap between the boat and the dock spanned almost double the distance I normally would jump. After a quick a.s.sessment of the jump, I decided to back up further and increase my speed to clear the chasm. Readying myself, I ran and leaped, barely grabbing on with one hand to the side bar as my left foot dipped in the chilly water. A surge of energy pumped in my body as I caught my breath.

The tourists who saw my near mishap gasped in unison. Then they clapped.

My heart raced and my legs shook as I climbed over the back rail onto the lower deck. I took a bow.

"Well folks, that was a close one for our CiCi. She nearly took a morning dip in the lake like our Annie did. Sorry about that CiCi," Mark said from the loud speaker.

I shot Mark the evil eye. Why had he pulled so far away from that last dock? Behind the gla.s.s captain's window, he smiled and gave me an okay sign. I would have shot back my own hand sign, but there were children on board.

Finished with the mail delivery, I strode toward the control room. Mark steered into the middle of the lake to head back to the pavilion from where we had started. The pa.s.sengers remained seated and attentive as Mark and Samuel narrated the details of the last mansion on the tour. Earlier I had noticed that a corner of the banner strapped to the back of the boat was unclipped.

Signaling my intent to Mark and Samuel, I crossed toward the stern. They nodded. At the back of the enclosed control room, a corner of the banner had come unfastened. The banner read: 'Summer Weekdays, 8 a.m. Mail Tours: Tickets at Pavilion.'

The lower clip of the banner was stuck open causing the corner to flap up in the wind. I reached over to grab the corner of the banner so that I could clip it back onto the rail. The boat jerked and my wet shoe slid, causing me to do a split.

A Jet Skier whizzed by, nearly hitting the boat.

As I righted myself, the boat jerked the opposite way, and I was airborne. My head hit the rail as I plunged over the side and into the darkness of the water.

Chapter Three.

My body slammed into the cool surface of the lake. Pulled by the weight of my already soaked clothes, I plunged deeper. The water swirled around me like I was tumbling in a blender. With blurry eyes I saw my hundred and fifty dollar Maui Jim sungla.s.ses sinking away. What a waste. I only got to enjoy the sungla.s.ses, my college graduation gift, less than a month. Now they'll be on the bottom of Round Lake.

Clawing at the water I suddenly realized it was getting murky. The bubbles floated up, as I sunk deeper down. My chest tightened. Instinctively I exhaled. Then I realized it was my last bit of air. My next breath would be all water.

Shouldn't my life be flashing in front of my eyes now? Shouldn't I be thinking of all the wonderful people in my life instead of plotting to kill Mark? He jerked the d.a.m.n boat. But maybe I shouldn't have been leaning over the back railing.

My lungs were aflame. I inhaled. Water rushed in my nose, stuffing up my head. A calm filled me as I detached from my body and let go. I knew someday the trucker's death would catch up with me. It was karma. Time to pay up. I was heading to h.e.l.l where I belonged.

"CiCi, wake up." The voice came from far away.

Someone's warm hands were on my shoulders shaking me.

"Hey, get up." The voice sounded close.

I blinked and tried to push away the blanket of mental fog that suffocated me. My head felt as heavy as a cement bucket on my shoulders, pulsating with a low, painful beat. Nauseated and dizzy, I turned my head. Water gushed out of my mouth and nose, making me cough. I flipped on my back. Water trickled down my face. The sun overhead emerged from behind a cloud and blinded me. I took a deep breath. The smell of algae gagged me. Whizzing Jet Skis were like jackhammers in my head.

"Are you okay?" Mark leaned over me.

As I focused, I realized we were on a dock not far from the pavilion, and a large group of tourists surrounded us. The murmurs from the crowd swarmed around me, humming like bees.

"Please give her some air," Mark said.

Curling on my side, I tried to regain my memory. "What happened?" Reaching up I felt a spot above my left eye. It was tender and sore.

"I'm so sorry. I think you fell when I jerked the boat. A Jet Skier cut in front of me and I didn't want to hit him," Mark explained.

"As long as the skier is okay," I said as I reached out and held his hand. "But I'm still going to kill you for almost killing me."

"Hey, I'm soaked too," he said, glancing down at himself. "Plus, I abandoned my ship for my best friend. I violated an age old captain's creed." Mark draped a towel over me. "I jumped in after you and left Samuel and Annie in charge."

"They'll be fine. It was about time to let them take over anyway," I said. I went into a coughing fit for a minute.

"I'm telling you, you sure are heavy when you're wet and limp. I had to swim you all the way over to sh.o.r.e," Mark said.

"Sorry about that, next time I'll be more careful," I said. Then I felt bad that I was being sarcastic to him, after all he did save me, although he caused me to fall in the first place.

"CiCi, I'm so sorry. Really I am. I don't understand what happened. You're a great swimmer," he said.

"I'm a great swimmer, just a c.r.a.ppy faller." I pulled the towel around me.

"Please move aside, we need to take a look at her." A lifeguard knelt next to me. "I'm going to check your vitals. How are you feeling?"

"Terrific." I sat up.

"That was an awesome flip you did," he said as he took my wrist and felt my pulse.

"You saw it?" I asked.

"Yeah, a whole group of us did. I give it a ten," the lifeguard replied.

"Good. I was going for Olympic Gold." I smirked. "I'm glad I could entertain you."

"And we needed it. Nothing exciting happens around here," he said. "The paramedics are on the way."

"That's why I like it here, the sheer boredom," I said as I glanced around at the crowd and the sea of unfamiliar faces. Then, in the back row I saw Francesca. My first impulse was to run and hug her.

I'd longed for her to be back in my life as much as I'd wanted to stay away from her.

She looked at me and smiled. Then a guy with long dark hair, faded jeans, wearing a tool belt with a hammer hanging from it, yanked her away from the crowd and began shouting at her. Everyone turned toward them. Francesca pushed at his chest. Then he stormed off dragging her with him.

"Okay people, it's under control," Mark said to the crowd. Then he said to me, "Hey was that the mayor's daughter that guy was screaming at?"

"Francesca? Yes, it was."

"She's super hot," Mark said as he helped me stand up. "Is she single?"

"I have no idea. She's been in Europe a while," I said as I held onto his arm. "Let me get over this ma.s.sive pain in my head, and then maybe I can fix you up."

"Great," Mark said. His smiled faded. "You're being sarcastic, huh?"

An ambulance, a fire truck, and two police cars pulled up, causing sheer commotion for an hour or so while they checked me over, filled out reports and dispersed the crowd. All my vitals registered as satisfactory so I declined any more medical treatment. When the excitement died down, the crowd filtered away, leaving just Mark and me. We began the walk back to the pavilion.

"Are you really okay?" Mark asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Why don't I take you to the hospital, just to make sure? I'm worried."

"End of subject, please?" I interrupted. "As far as I'm concerned, my fall's now in the past. Done and over, never to be thought of again."

"Fine." Mark added, "So Francesca's back from Europe?"

As I walked, squishing sounds came from my soaked gym shoes. I think I even felt a minnow swimming in my undies. Keeping up with Mark's long strides, I shot back, "Apparently she is. I don't keep up with her. We're not exactly friends okay? Let's leave it at that."

"But you told me that you and she were once best friends."

"Were."

"Do you think she'd date me?"

"Please? I've got a splitting headache. Can you lay off about Francesca?" I wasn't mad that he asked about Francesca. I just felt out of sorts now that I had seen her again. It dug up too many memories I'd rather leave buried, as well as a plethora of memories I cherished.

"You know, you were a lot nicer before you almost drowned," Mark said.

"Weird how something like that can change a girl. Can we talk about something else, like your internship at the dead people place? How's that going?" I asked.

"It's great. I've got the embalming down. It's the makeup I'm tanking. Men don't naturally have that glamour gene."

"Neither do I. It takes practice."

He turned and pointed a long skinny finger at me. "Great idea. I'll practice on you."

"One problem." I gently pinched his arm. "Feel that? Corpses don't pinch, and you need a corpse."

"A mere technicality." He rubbed his arm. "There are no extra corpses lying around. But you, you'll be perfect."

"No."

"I'll buy you dinner."

"Forget it."

"A Reuben on rye at H&K's, with crispy chips and a beer?"

"No." I picked up a rock and tossed it in the lake. "Mark, don't you need somebody without blood in their complexion?"

"You know, you're looking kind of pasty."

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere," I said, although I knew I'd let him do the makeover on me. He had me at Reuben.

Mark stopped and knelt on the ground, put his hands in a prayer configuration and fluttered his lashes over his big aqua eyes.

"Please? I have my final exam tomorrow, and I really need the practice. If I pa.s.s this last exam, I'll be that much closer to fully fledged mortician status."

I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. "To get you off my back, fine. But you better not make me look like Bozo."

He jumped up. "You're in luck. I haven't learned clown corpse makeup 101 yet. But I know how to make non-clown corpses look animate."

Mark wanted to make me look like a cadaver after he saved me from being one. Something in the universe was twisted today.

"So we're on?" he asked.

"You bet," I said.

"First, I'll wrap up with Samuel and Annie, make sure that everything is in order. Meet me in the locker room in ten minutes. I have all the stuff with me." He winked. "I knew you'd let me practice on you. You can't resist my baby blues."

Whacking him in the arm, I said, "If you screw up my makeover, you'll have black and blues."

After Mark left, I paused by the public dock, calmed by the sound of the water gently splashing against the rocks on the sh.o.r.eline. I liked peace.

Since seeing Francesca, something felt out of whack.

Turning from the lake I walked over to the ticket booth at the pavilion and approached Hazel, who had staffed the booth from the creation of time. As though trapped in a 1950's time warp, she wore her hair in her signature platinum beehive. She wore turquoise eye shadow from her eyelids to her brows and bright ruby lipstick lined her cupid bowed lips. Her pet.i.te, soft, plump body was squeezed into pedal pushers two sizes too small for her girth. And she topped off the outfit with a skimpy midriff sleeveless blouse, under which the folds of her pale white tummy spilled out. Being around Hazel made me feel as happy as being in the front row at a parade.

"h.e.l.lo Hazel."

"Hi ya, CiCi!" Hazel glimpsed up from counting her money drawer. "You look like h.e.l.l."

"I took a swim in my clothes." My khaki shorts, white polo shirt and jacket were still damp and wrinkled.

"Swim my a.s.s." She reached out and touched the cut on my forehead. "I heard you almost drowned and Mark saved your skinny b.u.t.t. He blabbed it to me before he ran into the locker room. He was all excited about doing makeup. I never thought he was..." Hazel rocked her hand back and forth. "Not that there's anything wrong with that whole alternative lifestyle but..."

I smiled at her. "He's straight as an arrow in that department, but warped otherwise."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Anyway, no more near death, by drowning or otherwise. I can't handle that. Okay?"

"Too bad, I was going to try it again tomorrow."

Pushing a gla.s.s of water and two aspirin my direction, she said, "Motor Mouth also told me you had a headache."

I popped the two aspirin in my mouth and chugged the water. "A dip with the Grim Reaper can cause that."

She shifted in her chair. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, go home and convalesce? Mark can finish up."

"There's nothing to recuperate from. I'm completely back to normal." I fiddled with the keys on the back of the ticket booth door.

"Fine then, Ms. Normal. Are you hungry? Here's a tuna fish on rye I made for you." She dug into large canvas sack slung over the back of her chair and pulled out a brown paper bag.