Drifting on Dietz Lake

The boat rocked slowly. I could have counted the sways, but that would be slow going and I might doze off.

I thought about everything I had remembered so far.

I hated the color yellow and the number 7. I counted everything, remebering nothing, and went to a therapist.

There was a man, with big strong arms that wrapped around me. He had been with me in cabin 43 that was not there anymore. He had put out the fire I lit by dousing the newspaper in the sink. Why had I lit the paper?

He was an angler, and had warned me about something going faster while on a boat in this lake, Dietz Lake, but what that was was still a mystery. I had awakened beside him in bed and he was cold. Dead cold. Someone was taken out on a stretcher, in a black bag. Was it him?

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bright yellow piece of caution tape. The sun glinted off of it mirroring the waves below me. I squinted.

"Sun sure is bright today!" he smiled up at me from his seat on the dock, pole in hand. "Fish are down in the weeds and shadows." He reeled in an empty hook. "Better luck at dusk." He stood up and put an arm aorund me. "Come on, kid. Let's eat!" We went to the concession stand behind the beach part of the lake. People basked on towels or bobbed in the murky water. I ordered a hot dog. He ate two. Plus a burger. He liked mustard.

"I don't like mustard." The words startled me from the memory. I looked up and around at my surroundings. I had drifted out to the middle of the lake. I had no oars. What was I doing?! I could swim, couldn't I? I tried to find the beach with the concession stand, maybe they would remember me, or him, but I couldn't see it. I drifted for a while past 6 inlets where 5 boats of fishermen fished. All 10 of them looked at me amused, confused, but no one said anything.

Around one bend some goldenrod grew. A yellow flowered weed. I sneezed. We were allergic to goldenrod pollen, the angler and I. He was taking Benedryl with his large cola, after the burger and hot dogs went down. "Damn pollen." He'd sneezed.

"Bless you!" called a voice.There was a fisherwoman in a boat ahead of me. I would pass her slowly on the current in a few minutes. I could time it. "You need a tow?"

I looked at myself in this shabby boat. There was a bit of water now pooling in the bottom; about an inch, two centimeters. "Um, I seem to be without oars and am looking for the concession stand on the beach?"

"I'll take you. Is that your boat?" she wrinkled her nose at the muddy vessel.

"Umm, I found it, it was kinda sunk in the mud. I guess I'm borrowing it." she helped me climb into her marron and white boat and tethered my dirt encrusted one for a tow behind.

The End

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