He stood just beyond the line where the lake water meets the sand. A wire he casually strode past without a second thought of the wild life swimming by. Four days. He stood knee deep for four sunny days. A red solo cup passed from one hand to the other. Back and forth between sips.
Day two, or maybe it was three, I sat in the hotel provided beach Adirondack chairs with my feet in the soft wet sand. The peaceful waves rippled over my bare feet while I sipped from a glass. My glass filled with the region’s pink, dry wine. A wine not normally my preference, but vacations change a mindset—and the taste buds. With every sip of fermented grapes, there he stood. Standing in the same soft waves that caressed my spirit. The love of nature, filtering out the negativity life too often provides.
Sitting in my rental kayak on day three, maybe four, I floated with the waves taking me toward the string of hotels and back out to sea. An occasional paddle to avoid a duck or buoy, a jet ski or a dock, riding parallel to the shore line. My attention was drawn to him, still standing in knee deep water. The seam of his black and white striped swim trunks never quite grazing the water’s surface.
By evening, after showering off the lake sand from precious places, he was lost. Gone. No sign of the bare-chested man with a flat billed hat that matched his swimming attire. Was he still transfixed on the slow-moving current? Did the clean water cleanse his soul?
Day three, or maybe it was four, I sipped a slightly stronger adult beverage while lying in the hotel provided white plastic lounge chair that made my behind feel flatter than an ironing board. There. He once again stood knee deep in the shallow waters. Impenetrable sunglasses blocking the infrared rays from the beaming sun caking our skin to a golden brown. The sunscreen, the only icing to protect us.
It was nine in the morning, or maybe it was ten. Day four, possibly five. I packed up the Jeep before heading out to our next destination. There he was. Two parking spots over, in his white, beat-up SUV. I smoked a cigarette while perfectly placing all the luggage in the appropriate nooks and crannies. He sat in the driver’s seat alone. Smoking a bowl. The State’s new, state-flower. Marijuana.
All my questions.
Answered.
Serenity.