The Toilet Bowl in the Lake

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.