A Secret and a Promise

They were best friends, and the whole summer lay before them like an untapped cornucopia.

* * *

It was nearly six o'clock when they went their separate ways, each skipping off as if they were still seven-year-old kids. "See you tomorrow," Lisa called with a wave.

"Bye!" Karen called.

It was two weeks later, an ordinary summer night, though hotter and more humid than most, and there wasn't so much as a whisper of a breeze to cut the heavy air. Supper, such as it was, consisted of Italian sandwiches Dad picked up on the way home from work. When it was finished, Karen grabbed the book she'd been reading, Annie Proulx's "Heart Songs," and headed for the dock. When she asked her Dad to buy it for her, he did so willingly, but he gave her a fleeting, admiring glance, and said, "That's a pretty grown up book, sure you're ready for it?"

Karen simply rolled her eyes, clucked her tongue, and said, "Dad, I'm almost in eighth grade now, I can't keep reading kids' books forever."

He gave her head an affectionate pat and flashed her a wink. She was Daddy's little girl. She adored him, he was her rock, calm, unflappable, smart beyond measure, protective, her image of what men should be.

Truth be told, she was captivated by the book's short stories, even though she didn't quite get all of them. It was Proulx's voice that held her attention, just as it was the melody in a Mozart piano concerto that held her. She plunked herself down on the end of the dock and dangled her feet in the tepid water and opened the book to where she'd carefully slipped in the bookmark (Mom had taught her to never dog-ear a book's page to mark her place; it bordered on a sacrilege).

Karen paused a few seconds as she let her mind open itself. She was only just becoming reacquainted with the ebb and flow of summer life on the lake. Off to her left visible through a thin swath of fir trees was the camp belonging to her Uncle Sonny, complete with its own dock. Her cousin Jeremy, two years older and seemingly obsessed with more adult pleasures, stood at the end of the dock desultorily casting a fishing line into the water, the ripples of the baited hook the only thing disturbing the glass calm of the water's surface.

From further down came the delighted squeals of her younger cousins splashing about, and truth be told, the lure of joining them was strong, but "Heart Songs" were equally melodious, and besides, the thought of Jeremy leering at her sealed the deal.

To her right, the scruffy, vaguely dangerous members of the Hyatt clan buzzed about in their outboard boats. Further off to the right, the setting sun hung like an iron ball fresh from a forge over the ridgeline forming the back wall of the lake's natural bowl. The full moon was up well above the horizon, though still a vague silver dollar in the sun's light.

Oppressive yet vaguely comforting, the close summer air wrapped Karen like a blanket. She sighed contentedly, and looked at her open book.

Karen hardly looked up from the book over the next two hours. When she finally did, it was only because Jeremy had hucked a dirt clod in her direction. "Gettin dark, gonna roon your eyes you keep readin in the dark," he offered sagely.

Karen worked out a kink in her neck. "Do you sign up to get stupid junk like that mailed to you?" she retorted. It was well into twilight, and the sun relinquished the sky to the moon. Boats and kids were out of the water for another day, and the surface of the lake once again went as smooth as plate glass.

"You're a smart-ass," Jeremy said as he hucked another dirt clod at Karen.

"Yup, I am." Karen bounded up the natural steps formed by the exposed roots of the fir trees to the camp. How could anyone find boys interesting, she mused. They were mostly stupid and crude, fascinated by farting and belching and trying to impress girls by acting like assholes.

Fans scattered about the open common area of the camp did nothing to cool things off. Rather than stew over it, Karen simply fell into her summer evening ritual; a small bowl of ice cream (strawberry) and a can of Diet Pepsi, diaphoretic in the humid air, followed by a cooling shower.

There was no question, the lukewarm shower was the perfect end to a hot summer day. Karen stepped under the powerful spray and took her time before lathering up. Her hair shampooed and rinsed, she soaped up a washcloth and drew it over her sleek form. Hers was still the body of a child. She longed to experience the changes Lisa was undergoing. Soon, she thought, pretty soon.

Karen carefully run her soapy hand over her sex and sighed. It was such a wonderful sensation, a tugging on a magic chain that ran into secret places hidden from view. She let the water rinse the soap from her hand. Getting too much soap there might cause an infection, or so the rumor went. Now she wasn't as hesitant about exploring a little more, nothing serious.

Karen had long since stopped mulling over why touching her girl parts conjured images of Lisa, of the two of them chasing each other, hugging and dancing, at last kissing. Why didn't, at least then, matter very much.

****

It was simply too hot to sleep, even uncovered and with the fan blowing right on her. How in God's name her mother and father could sleep was beyond her. Karen sat on the edge of her bed and pulled on her tennies. A walk might help. She stepped out on the deck and looked out over the lake.

There still wasn't so much as a whisper of a breeze. Unsullied by even a single ripple, the moon's ghostly gray reflection on the surface of the lake was pure. Karen glanced up at the moon's shadowy face, and a shudder passed over her, almost unnoticed.

It seemed as if there was some sort of commotion up the lake and out of view, closer to Lisa's camp. Karen shrugged and skipped down the steps and made her way to the dirt camp road. She didn't have a place in mind; fireflies winked and stuttered over the high meadow grasses, while crickets chirped languidly, and the moon's sepulchral glow lighted paths almost as well as the morning sun.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if Lisa were with her right now, Karen mused. In the depths of night, perhaps they'd even dare to hold hands. Maybe - just maybe - they'd slip into a secret embrace, and just as with the magic day of the thunderstorm, they'd come together in a kiss...

Karen's heart sped up at the wantonness of her fantasy, her girl parts clenched like a fist, and a nest of butterflies was loosed in her tummy. She plucked a stalk of timothy and stuck it in her mouth in unconscious imitation of Lisa.

It was obvious something was going on down the lake. It was impossible to overlook the ominous glow of strobing blue and red police lights. Obviously, the Hyatt's were up to their tricks, perhaps a drunken argument evolved into brawl, she'd get all the details from Lisa in the morning.

Now, her stroll through the cool meadow left her feeling pleasantly drowsy. Time to head back to the camp, to sleep, perchance to dream.

***

It immediately struck Karen as odd when she rolled out of bed at nine o'clock and Daddy hadn't left for work yet. Truth be told, he looked pale, almost ashen. He must have a flu bug or something, Karen thought. "Daddy, how come you're not at work?" she said through a yawn.

He hardly looked up from the almost empty coffee cup in front of him. He took a deep breath and let it out in an anguished sigh. "Sit down, pumpkin, I need to talk to you about something."

That was when Karen felt the first squirt of fear in her tummy. Her heart speeded up, her mouth went dry, and her legs began to tremble. What was going on. Was she in trouble? Did she do something bad without knowing it? "Daddy, what's the matter?" she said, her voice going up an octave and edged with fear. "Did I do something wrong?"

He looked up and she saw tears in his eyes, which unto itself was terrifying. Whatever it was, it was serious, really serious. "No honey, you didn't do anything wrong."

Her mother moved behind now. "Tell me what's going on," she cried out, the panic edging closer to the surface. Now she thought she might pass out.

"Ummm, last night, around midnight, Lisa and her bothers decided to sneak out and use the boat to go on the lake and cool off. Well, something happened, not sure what, but the boat tipped over, and... and... Lisa drowned. Her brothers tried to save her, but they couldn't do anything."

An enormous pang pulsated through Karen. "No," she said, shaking her head. "That's not true," she said, her voice high quavery. "That's a mean trick to play on me."

"I'm afraid it's not a trick, honey. I wish it were."

"But it can't be true, we hung out together yesterday, and we're going to hang out again today. She promised."

And with that, Karen's young world collapsed in a smoking heap of rubbish. She was dimly aware she was screaming, because such a thing could not be. It was impossible. Her insides screamed in agony, hot surges rocking her.

Somewhere in her fury, Daddy had picked her up and he was carrying her, patting her back and trying to soothe her, trying to take the edge off her shock. "No, no," she cried. "She can't be dead, she was my best friend! No! She's too young to be dead! Please Daddy, tell me it's a joke, tell me it's not true."

Her Daddy took a deep, shuddery breath, utterly nonplussed, at a loss for words to give his daughter as her world imploded. He was a man of few words in the best of circumstances. He was clearly fighting to hold back his own tears, distraught at being unable to find the magic words that might ease his daughter's agony. Such words simply did not exist.

Karen's mother wept freely, sobbing at her daughter's anguish, at the senseless death of a child on the cusp of life. The cruel indifference of life slapped all of them, leaving all three in the throes of agony.

Karen's brain was limping along, circuits overloaded by the suddenness of the tragedy, perhaps trying to protect itself by filtering out everything except what was absolutely necessary to function. At some point, she grabbed the teddy bear off the shelf over her bed and clutched tightly.

The teddy bear was a gift from Lisa. They were at the mall one day, bright and cheerful in a happier time, and Lisa bought it on a whim from one of the kiosks dotting the landscape of the mall. Once purchased, Lisa had no clue what to do with it. She hadn't really wanted it, it was an impulse buy, a joke, pure and simple.

Lisa grinned and jabbed the bear into Karen's midsection. "Here. Don't say I never got you anything."

"What do I want with a teddy bear," Karen protested. "Do I look like a little kid or something?"

Lisa had that impish glint in her eyes. "Maybe, but now it's yours. You hafta take it 'cause it's a present from me to you."

"Gee, thanks a million, just what I always wanted, a little kid's teddy bear."

"Not a problame-o, lame-o."

But now, the bear had a special significance all out proportion to original purpose.

Karen curled into the fetal position and held the bear close, sobbing and moaning. How could it be that Lisa was dead. It made no sense. They'd just hung out together yesterday, and now, now, Lisa was gone, and not for a few days. Forever.

Now she understood what the strobing police lights meant last night, and it wasn't the Hyatts getting into a brawl. It was people searching the waters for her best friend, hoping against hope that she might yet be rescued.

Karen's brain clamped down on that line of thought, pushed it aside for the time being. In fact, most of the next three days would be forcefully stuffed into the deepest vaults of Karen's mind, buried away, not be heard from again until another life in another world.

As devastated as Karen was over her best friend's sudden, shocking death, Lisa's brothers' agony surely was infinitely worse. It was they who'd talked their little sister into going for a midnight canoe ride to escape the heat; it was her brothers who thought it would be funny to scare their little sister by rocking the canoe and teasing her; it was her brothers who, in a prank gone horribly wrong, tipped the canoe over, spilling Lisa into tepid water, Lisa who wasn't wearing a life jacket, Lisa who wasn't a good swimmer, Lisa who panicked in the water, thrashing madly, groping for her brothers to pull her to safety, Lisa who's thrashing made it impossible for her brothers to reach her before she slipped under the water, gone forever. It was Lisa's brothers who would relive that mad, frantic two minutes over and over for the rest of their lives, in a kind of emotional purgatory.

**************

Karen's mother and father gave her the space she needed to work through her grief, but they kept a wary eye on her lest she do something foolish like try to join her friend in death.

Karen sat at the end of the dock, her feet dangling in the water, watching the moon rise from behind the ridgeline. There was a tiny breeze this night, just enough to cause ripples which broke the moon's reflection into a thousand shimmering lights on the water's surface. Karen held the teddy bear in a tight embrace, and she wept quietly.

She looked up at the moon and offered her question. Why? Why did you hafta die, Lisa? Why? You were my best friend. I coulda fallen in love with you, and now you're... gone. Forever. Was it something I did? Was it because we hugged and kissed that day of the thunderstorm? Is God punishing us for hugging and kissing? We're not even teenagers yet, how are we s'pose to know these things. How can it be a real and true thing that you're... dead?

The moon, it's head cocked to one side, it's mouth a silent, ghostly O, did not answer her questions.

Karen hugged the teddy bear tighter than ever. Why din't you get me to go with you? I woulda saved you, you know that, don't you? I woulda saved you no matter what, but I wasn't there, I shoulda been, but I wasn't, and I'm sorry, really I am."

Without conscious thought, Karen stood up. She didn't see her father on the deck, keeping a vigil, ready to jump if needed. A deep, heavy ache settled in the pit of her stomach. Her face was wet with tears, and every breath she drew came with a shudder or a sob. She climbed up the slope from the water's edge, past the camp cabin, and onto the dirt camp road. Just as last night, the light from the moon was bright and almost funereal.

Karen stood for a moment, looking at the path made last night on her late night romp. The same fireflies floated in the warm, humid air, the same crickets chirped, and the air was redolent of the same sweet, earthy aroma of fresh grass and wildflowers as the Magic Day and their secret place.

She made her way through the grass, the stalks shushing on the fabric of her shorts. Karen stopped at the spot where she stood last night and hugged the teddy bear. There were no strobing police lights, no commotions on this sultry night. Just silence, silence as heavy as death, broken only by Karen's soft sobs.

***********

Karen stood as still as a statue, staring at the doorframe leading to the viewing room. She'd already been to the visiting hours last night - how strange, how cruel a term, "visiting hours" - but she hadn't been able to bring herself to see Lisa laid out in the casket. No, that was not something she could not do.

Until now. Now she had to say goodbye. She'd never be able to live with herself if she didn't say good bye.

Karen held the teddy bear with one hand, and in the other, a stalk of timothy, a wild rose, and secretly, a curled lock of her hair.

"You OK kitten?" It was Daddy, and his strong hand on her shoulder gave her strength.

Karen drew in a shuddery breath, and nodded quickly. She didn't remember the walk into the room, didn't remember the other people stepping out of the room as if they knew she was supposed to be alone one last time with her friend.

When she opened her eyes, everything was blurry and indistinct until she blinked and cleared the tears. She let out an anguished moan, and her legs trembled and threatened to collapse. There were display boards flanking the casket like sentries, each covered with pictures of happy times. A low voice inside Karen's mind said You're in half those pictures, you know. The casket was white and the brass embellishments seemed to sparkle. The casket was in the embrace of dozens of floral arrangements, many with roses, Lisa's favorite flower. The focal point was the large portrait of Lisa, last year's school picture. Karen had an 8x10 framed in her bedroom at home. Lisa scribbled on the back, "To the bestest friend ever!! You rock!! Luv Lisa XOXOX."

She didn't remember walking up to the casket, but she remembered seeing Lisa's lifeless form nestled in the caskets white lace cushions. Karen's inner voice was almost hysterical. She's supposed to look like she's sleeping, but she doesn't, she looks DEAD! At that, Karen's legs buckled at last.

Daddy's strong hands kept her from collapsing onto the floor. He very subtly but very firmly made sure Karen's knees found the padded rail. When he was sure she wouldn't fall to the floor, he took several steps back so Karen could have her private good bye. There was no one else in the room.

Overhead, music flowed softly from hidden speakers. She knew the music; she'd heard it before on a drive with Daddy. "Elvira Madigan," he'd called it. Now it was being seared into heart.

Karen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Lisa's parents were Catholic; they wanted her dressed in in her beautiful white Easter dress. Her folded hands held a small crucifix, and one wrist was adorned with the charm bracelet she liked so much.

Karen reached her trembling hand, still clutching the rose, the stalk of timothy and the lock of her hair, and touched Lisa's hair, and yes, it was as soft as it was on that magic day. Karen laid her cheek on the edge of the casket and looked at her friend while she twirled a strand of Lisa's hair.

"Lisa," Karen whispered. "Don't leave me, please! Why? Why did you go in that canoe? Was it 'cause the moon was so bright? Oh Lisa, God, please. Are you being punished 'cause we hugged and kissed and danced? Oh god! You're the bestest friend ever, please tell me this isn't real, please tell me you ran away somewhere. It's not fair! It's! Not! Fair!" Karen took a deep breath and let it out in a harsh sob.

Karen shifted herself so she could get close enough to whisper in Lisa's ear. "I thought about giving you the teddy bear to take with you, but I can't do it, I need her. You gave her to me, and I need her, but I got you a rose from that bush you like so much, the one where you got stung by the bee, 'member that? An' you didn't even cry." Karen tenderly nestled the rose into Lisa's hair, and a firm inner voice told her no one would disturb the rose.

"An' I got you some hay to chew on, 'member how you always do that? An' I got you something else. I cut one of my curls off so you could take it with you, so you'll have a piece of me with you." Karen secretly pushed the lock of hair under Lisa's shoulder so no one would see it take it away.

Karen's moan was one of unspeakable pain. The storm inside her was getting ready to break, just as the thunderstorm broke atop them that day. There would be no more of those magical days.

A primal part of Karen's brain sensed her Daddy coming up behind her, and she knew what that meant. Karen straightened herself enough so she could lean over and plant a kiss on her friend's cheek, her tears dropping on Lisa's silent form.

When Daddy touched the top of her head, Karen sobbed harshly. She didn't whisper when she cried out, "Lisa! I coulda loved you, an' I know you woulda loved me back!"