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Topic: Water (04/26/04)
TITLE: Water,, Water Everywhere, But Not Enough To Sink, by Wendy Decker
By WENDY DECKER
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Becoming a widow at only forty-nine had not been on my agenda. It had been two years since my husband died and God still had not answered my prayers. I prayed every day for Him to bring someone into my life again. Love and passion lay dormant in my heart while time ticked away. My hopes for a second chance at love were slowly sinking.
Furthermore, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this old bungalow standing all by myself. I had hammered nails into the new trim of an old wooden shed all morning long. My arms were tired, my knees hurt and I needed a break.
It was a hot afternoon, so I thought it’d be nice to take out my big blue raft onto the lake and absorb the sun and sweet smell of spring. Maybe a little sun and aromatherapy from the water lilies would lift my spirits.
After putting on my swim suit, I went outside and picked up the raft. I walked down the steps, dropped it into the water, hopped on and pushed against the sandy bottom of the lake with my foot and sailed away.
The lake was so peaceful and I had been so tired, I must have fallen asleep almost immediately. The last thing I remember was floating past the old Spencer bungalow a few houses away from mine. The air was like anesthesia; I counted to ten but only made it to three before I fell asleep. I didn’t know how long I’d had been asleep before I woke up staring into the handsome face of a stranger.
What’s your name Mam?” he asked.
I answered, “Linda, who are you?”
“My name is Mike Leavensworth. I was on my way back home due to the thick dark clouds rollin in and I saw you float by my boat like sleeping beauty on a lily pad,” he said. I tried to wake you, but it was as if you were in a coma or something. So I tied your raft to my boat and tugged you in.
My heart pounded quicker. Sleeping Beauty! Who was this man?
“Where am I?” I asked.
“You’re in Tuckerton. It’s a little alcove at the end of Longwood Lake,” he said.
“Where did you come from?” he asked.
“From a little alcove in the beginning of Longwood Lake,” I answered.
I’m amazed that you didn’t fall off that raft into the water. The wind had taken up a lot of speed and you were floatin in an alcove that was filled with seaweed as thick as pea soup. Had you fallen in, I don’t think you would have made it out! He stated.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.
“Sure, thank you,” I said.
“Do you live out here alone?” he asked.
His smile told me that he asked because he was interested in me and not who I lived with.
Was I still sleeping and this was all just a dream?
I answered, “Yes I do.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’ve been living here alone for about three years since my wife died,” he said.
“I keep busy going out on my boat, taking care of this old shack and I read lot,” he said.
“What keeps you busy?” he asked.
“I guess I do the same,” I answered. However, I don’t think I do as well with the caretaking of my old shack. I’d much rather lie in a hammock and read. It takes my mind off the long dull days, and a good book is about the only place I find excitement these days.”
“I also go to Hope Chapel Church on Sundays.
“That’s a hike from here,” he said. “I go over to Faith Bible Church it’s just up the road.
Hmmm, he goes to church too!
“When we first moved out here, some friends brought us to “Hope” and although it’s a bit of a ride, my church family is there so it’s worth the trip, I said.
“What do you like to read?” I asked him.
“Oh I like a good thriller or a suspense novel by Tom Clancy.
How about you?” he asked.
“I like most everything, but on a dark rainy day like this, it’s always fun to read something by Edgar Allan Poe to lift up my spirits,” I jokingly said with a smile.
He smiled back and our eyes connected.
We sipped our tea together and looked out upon the lake as the clouds rolled away.
This is a fictional story.