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Shredded Water, Velvet Sky

A black velvet pillow was cast over the sky, Ken noted, as he looked out from his cabin. In a minute he would be joined by his step-second cousin; or at least he thought he was his step-second cousin, he could never be too sure about these things when dealing with his stepmothers' family reunions. Reunions in themselves bring together loosely tied members of the family, and sometimes friends are even invited just because they are practically family. It had happened more than once to Ken.

But there was a better word for John, excusing the sentimentality; he was a friend. And right now Ken's friend was wondering up the poorly lit path to the cabin. A small flash of lightning shot across the sky, seemingly caused by a wrinkle in the velvet clouds rubbing against itself. The sky pleaded for them to stay in, but how could two secret adventurers pass up a night such as this? The wind was beginning to pick up now, and the call from the lake was growing stronger. Ken reassured himself that the waves he had seen just ten minute ago, would still be there when they returned to the dock.

John had almost reached the door when Ken grabbed his towel and bounded out the entrance, almost slamming into the stunned man. A moment of silence, then John gave a smile, "Ready to go swimming?"

Ken was bubbling with anticipation of what was to come, but managed a calm response, "I suppose." After he said this, he brought a closed hand up to his mouth and blew on the knuckles, then rubbed them on his short in mock arrogance. John gave a chuckle and led the way down the path. Ken wondered to himself how many famous stories had started out in similar fashions. As he trotted to catch up with John in the short distance he had gained, he thought of four.

The night woods were full of life, for even in the darkness of night, many shadows fluttered along the dirty trail. Ken walked alongside John, his towel draped over one shoulder in the fashion of old Greek times. John had his around the back of his neck, giving him the air of some great director reincarnated. The wind began to blow through Ken's hair, which he had cut short near the end of the school year, leaving him with a 'ceaser' style. He felt as thought there was no insulation there at all. In contrast, John's hair hung down to his shoulders. When the wind blew around his head, the strands danced chaotically, making him appear as some archangel returned to do battle with the terrifying water lying just ahead at the end of the trail. Had either of them been older, and in better shape, they could have easily passed for Hollywood stunt men. The director had requested their presence and expertise, the set was ready, and action was about to be called.

They reached the old waterfront, and gazed out at the black lake. Every wave rose and crashed against the dock, attempting to free nature from the man made scar of wood and metal. White caps, normally seen on the massive waves of the Pacific Ocean, must have crossed both mountain and desert to reach this small lake in the hills of Idaho. The velvet of the sky creased and shot out another spark, giving a brief glimpse of the thrashing water. The waves, which were visible for about thirty feet from the dock, all wild and foaming, spanned the entirety of the lake. No rest would be found in the heart of an adventurer tonight. Some massive beast let out a roar, following too quickly after the lightning. The low rumble rolled along with the waves, then crashed and shook the bodies of the two young men. Each glanced at the other, questioning the sanity of this idea, but not daring to speak such heresy out loud.

John looked back to the water, then smiled. He peeled off the towel from around his neck and let it drop to the wood planks of the dock. "If we don't do it now, we will regret it for all eternity." half speaking to himself, and half to Ken.

Ken now looked to the lake as well, the waves were even higher then what he had seen ten minutes before, if that was physically possible. Each crash against the dock was a call to the inner lunatic, beckoning him to set free his soul, and let the water carry his body away. He took a deep breath, "Then we'd better do it now!"

Without a queue, save that from the roar of the night, the two boys jumped from the old wooden dock, and into the midnight water swirling and pounding below them. Each screaming a battle cry as they rushing into combat, being cut short as the waves caught them, and pulled them under the surface. The last bit of Ken's hand slipped below the water, leaving no trace that any human life had been there. The lake laughed and roared with delight, for it had stolen the lives of these two foolish children. The storm had won.

Yet, the bell sounded, and round two commenced. John and Ken came rushing to the surface, hands swinging, feet kicking, and each laughing boldly at the night. Death had touched their hearts, and taken their breath, but not claimed their souls. Each shining with the light of a demigod, rose to the surface and looked out to the dark water. The lake drew back and redoubled its efforts for the new fight.

"Come on Poseidon, drive your watery steeds to me! I'll cut them down into rain drops, and tears!" John cried out to the blackness, while shaking his fist. Ken let out an equally enthusiastic battle cry, though not as poetic; "Bring it on!"

The waves heard and delivered, crashing into the two night swimmers, and sending them speedily toward the splintered docks. Each thrust their young arms against the onslaught of water, while laughing madly about the possibility of their doom. Ken stabled himself in the water enough so he could grab one of the decrepit wooden columns, without being punctured severely by any loose pieces of wood. The slight wounds revealed tomorrow would well be paid for in the adventure they were taking part in tonight.

John glanced back at Ken, then smiled, a frenzied and feverish smirk, his eyes wild with a lust for freedom and battle. Ken knew he meant to meet the storm head on, and make his peace with any number of water deities or foul demons.

"Don't do it John, the waters' too strong!" Ken screamed against the storm. But the bastard wind and the damned fool in front of him, either heard nothing, or disregarded any sense that may have existed in a teenage boys mind. John looked to the cold lake, and held his hands up to the sky, then spoke clearly to all nature around him, "I have come to bargain my soul and claim what title there may yet be left in the wild places of the Earth." As if in answer to his challenge, or simply good timing, the clouds of velvet black rubbed against one another, and flashed its acceptance in an arc white heat through the air. John howled in primitive rage, then quickly, was pulled under the water, and into space unknown.

Ken searched the dark water for signs of his distant cousin, now feeling more removed from him than any lineage or title could demonstrate. The black swirled and sloshed all about him, highlighted every few seconds by the flashes of lightning closing in on the wooded lake. With each bleach white shot in the dark, ten thousand devils and hellish creatures swam around Ken's feet. Every single one beckoning him to make the same deal with mother natures wicked side; sliding their slippery figment driven claws all along his legs. Ken kicked and drew back his legs in response to the transparent monsters, cursing their sickening calls of adventure. John had not come up yet, though Ken could not tell if time was still flowing in its normal manner, perhaps it stopped all together. Such things are possible in the untamed conditions of night, cold, and the wilderness.

"John! Get back here." Ken called to the water. "Hurry, or else the water will get too strong." But no voice answered back, and Ken felt the surge of power as the waves heaved against the dock; the water was already too strong. Warm water began to ebb from Ken's eyes as he thought of the many possible outcomes from a stupid stunt like this, and the current situation. The glacier water simply washed away any display of emotion from Ken's face, as it beat against his pale body. Glancing into the midnight liquid one last time, he gathered his fear, and made his way to the wooden latter, rising towards civilization. The lake laughed as he acknowledged defeat, and the sky let out a mighty display of electricity for natures victor over John; but natures pride would be its defeat, for Ken saw what he needed. There, far below his planted feet, was an opaque silhouette. No thought entered his mind as Ken let go of the decaying wood, it was simply impulse. "Give him back," was the only thought in his head as he dove between the waves, and into the black universe.

Ken kicked and droves his arms deeper into the abyss, past all the hell spawn nightmares of his mind. The cream silhouette resolved quickly into the body of his friend, mixed in well with all the dark matter about him. Lifeless? Not John. Ken looked down as his cousin spun and fought with his own unseen foes, though he was not winning. Perhaps a distant relative could even the score, or offset it enough to make a hasty departure. Ken swam down to his cousin's side, and grabbed his hand; then with all their strength and courage, they beat the devils with their feet, and made a dash for the surface. John pulled back from Ken a few feet from air, and looked back towards the dark below. Ken placed a hand on John's shoulder, causing him to turn about and look to him. Ken saw that the fire in his eyes had been stamped out, but with one last gesture of the Koch family salute, which constituted the thumb and middle finger being brandished to the world while the others were folded into the palm, John nodded and came back to his world.

The water raged with discontent, while the sky cried in anger, their two trophies were packing up and leaving the wild playground. John headed up the latter and onto the worn planks, Ken followed suit. Both just sat there and looked out into the darkness they had just escaped. John turned to Ken, "I dare you to do it again." If he hadn't been so tired, Ken would have surely punched his step-second cousin. He only shook his head.

After some time of sitting and contemplating their ordeal, Ken inquired, "So what title did you win from nature?"

John remained quiet, and Ken though he hadn't hear the question so was going to ask it again, when he finally spoke. "I won no title." He lowered his head with this realization, then perked it up and looked strongly at Ken. "But I did receive a gift." A sly smile and pause for dramatic effect, then the resolution; "My life."

Ken accepted this testimony, and nodded to himself. With that said, the two haggard warriors headed back to their beds and soft pillows. The night, though windy and filled with magnificent displays of lightning, had remained dry up to this point. Drops of cool velveteen tears fell on their soaked skin, and reminded them of how fortunate they really were. John took a fork in the trail midway back to Kens cabin, and followed it on to the rest of his life. Ken would spend one more day with his friend, then drift from all thought as each made their own way in the world. Ken would write a story, slightly altered mind you, of the events that had unfolded; and John would scrawl into the cabins bunk bed;

"John and Ken rode the waves.

Summer, 99"