I didn’t let up rowing
even when we’re
a safe distance from
Austin’s raft
as the white speedboat
with its blood-red band
plows through the mist
a crack explodes
“Take cover!”
I yell
Austin gasps and submerges
holding onto the rope
I drop the oars
shield my head with my arms
splintered wood surges into the sky
as the speedboat shoots through the fog
broken parts of the raft
pelt the lake like missiles
chunks smack the dinghy
bounce off
Austin rescues an oar
the air smells of gasoline and oil
“Are you okay?”
I ask
the speedboat slows and cruises
half a football field away
its engine cuts off
and the lake quiets
Austin hands me the oar
from the water:
“I’m okay.”
he coughs
I drop it into the bottom of the dinghy:
“Let me help you get on board.”
yank on his belt loops
he slides in like a seal
with the added weight
the dinghy sinks lower
cup my hands around my mouth:
“Help,”
I yell to the speedboat
Austin waves:
“Over here.”
a voice rises from the mist:
“Opal.”
“Do you hear that?”
Austin scans the lake
“Opal.”
the mist gathers the wrecked
raft floating on the water
sweeps the pieces together
like Evie with her gel pens
a mother hen with her precious chicks
the lake gurgles as the mist
and raft fragments plunge under water
like an emptying toilet
round and round
the splintered shards
of wood and ice spiral
before the lake flushes them.