“What if this is his tomb?”
“His what?” he says as he wipes the water from his eyes, looks up at her as she perches herself on the edge of the dock.
“His tomb. Like what if this is the last earthly testament to his existence?”
“I’d hope he’d do a better job at finishing it then.”
“No I mean, what if he fell in? What if he drowned in the same water you’re treading now? Who would know?”
“His wife? His kids?”
“He wouldn’t’ve had any.”
“Listen,” he begins and moves closer to her dangling legs. “It’s probably just some guy who didn’t feel like finishing it so left it. I mean we’re out in the middle of no where, why would anyone need a dock out here?”
“Well we’re here aren’t we? I mean he obviously started it for some good reason. And besides, why would he leave all his tools and nails and all?” she says and delicately, absentmindedly traces the outline of a hammer encrusted with a thick layer of pollen.
“Maybe there was a storm? Maybe he just didn’t care? I don’t know. Why do you care so much?”
“You don’t care about swimming in the same lake as a dead body?”
“If I based everything I did on the possibly proximity of death I don’t think I’d do much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re being ridiculous. C’mon, jump back in. Let’s swim back.”
“Can you check?”
“Can I what?”
“Can you just feel around and see if you can find him?”
“You want me to dive down and see if I can find this guy in the mud?”
“Yes.”
He stares at her and smiles. “If I do can we swim back?”
“If you don’t find anything, yes.”
He grabs at her ankle playfully. She kicks at him lightly to shake him off.
“I’ll be back,” he says and sinks beneath the brown water.
No comments:
Post a Comment