Camping on the Lake

Camping on the Lake

by Cleve Taylor

Jill slapped her neck smashing the blood gorged mosquito feasting there. She remembered her cousin showing her how by balling his fist he could cause a sudden spurt of blood into a feeding mosquito on his forearm and make it explode. As far as she could tell, her mosquito spray attracted the small voracious insects instead of repelling them like it was supposed to.

Jill was miserable. This was not the romantic camping adventure she had expected. As far as she was concerned, they were lost, even though Benny assured her that the map on his IPhone knew where they were and could get them back to his car when the weekend was over. She hoped so. Her own phone, an android, found no signal when she attempted to call her girlfriend to tell her about all the fun she wasn’t having.

Though she was only sixteen years old, her body belied her age and she looked every bit the eighteen years of age that Benny and his college friends believed her to be. Her mother believed her to be spending the weekend with her girlfriend, and at the moment that is where she would rather be.

Last night was a horrible experience. It rained while they tried to set up the tent that Benny had borrowed. Some of the metal stakes were missing and they had to make do with broken limbs. They ate cold pork and beans directly from the can, and shivered in their wet clothes. Plus, Benny kept wanting to strip bare and warm each other up in the double sleeping bag. What was it with guys anyway. Why couldn't they just cuddle without it having to lead to sex.

Their campsite looked out over what should be a lovely lake, Lake Whachamacallit, or something like that. It was dusk, and fog pretty much covered the surface of the lake. That plus the dark rain laden sky made the lake look forbidding, and creepy if Jill would let herself think about it.

Looking at the fog on the lake, toward the center, she saw a quick wink of a light which quickly disappeared, and she was sure she heard a paddle echo off the side of the boat.

"Benny," she called to him. "Come see. I think there's someone on the lake."

"Really? It's kind of late for boats.," he said, joining her. "I don't see anything."

"Well, I 'm sure I saw a light through the fog and heard a paddle or something."

"Uh huh," Benny said disbelievingly. "Let me know if you see it again.

By the way, have you been going through my backpack?"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Well, my pistol is missing, and I know how you don't like guns, so I was just wondering if maybe you took it and hid it."

"Well, I didn't. Maybe you left it in the car."

"No. It was here last night. I saw it when I was looking for dry socks.". Benny hesitated. "My hunting knife is missing, too. Any chance you've seen it?"

Jill stared at him. "You are unbelievable." she stated emphatically while shaking her head in disbelief. She went to her backpack and started going through it. "I' m not missing anything - - - wait I don't see my Wanton Red lipstick. You didn't take it, did you?"

"Don't joke, this is serious. My pistol and my hunting knife are missing."

"I am serious, my lipstick is missing, and it is the only one I brought."

They stared at each other. The idea that they were not alone beginning to sink in.

"Look! The light."

Benny saw it this time, as it disappeared into the fog. And he heard a paddle splashing water.

The missing gun, knife, and lipstick scared them, and they sat in front of the campfire, continuing to feed the fire with damp windfall that they had collected during the day. They considered leaving, but feared trying to walk out of the forest during the night. Eventually, they both fell asleep and the unattended fire went out.

The next morning when Jill awakened something else was missing - - - Benny! She called to him thinking he was probably on a bathroom break, but she got no response. Beginning to panic, she looked around the campsite. His backpack was by the tent, but his phone was not in it. That, she realized, left her mapless.

"BENNY!" she called at the top of her lungs. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY. YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK OVER HERE."

Nothing. The only sound she heard was the sound of her heart and her panicked breathing.

Then she heard a loud splash on the lake followed by a smaller splash and a cackling laugh. Jill looked out at the lake and saw the prow of a boat emerge from the fog and head straight toward her.

Sitting on the boat bench with a paddle was a wild eyed bedraggled old man, wearing a tattered fishing hat with lures fixed on to the hat band. Not much more than a skeleton, his bony hand reached out to her. The other hand held Benny 's bloody hunting knife in a non-threatening way. The tear that was his mouth was caked with her Wanton Red lipstick that somehow, if that was possible, suggested a smile. Those teeth that weren't missing were green.

Jill was stupefied. She could not run, she could not scream.

"Come, and we will visit your friend.” Mesmerized, she got in the boat with him and he paddled through the fog to the center of the lake. As if watching from outside her body she watched as the old man stabbed her body, all the while cackling insanely

Jill watched as he lowered her body into the water, her body bearing multiple stabs to keep her body from bloating and floating back up.

Jill 's last thought was, "I'm sorry Mama."

And then the lake claimed her.