31

By the time Jake reached his kayak, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Tell me what happened.”

Leonard.

Jake paddled over and pointed a finger at him. “Tell me something. How do you always know the day and time I’m going to be here?”

Leonard adjusted his sunglasses and focused on the cattails to Jake’s right. “I have no idea when you’re going to show up here.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then explain to me why you’re here sitting in the shallows almost every time I exit the corridor.”

“Simple.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Palmer.”

“It’s not a stupid question, Leonard.” Jake dipped his paddle in the water and pulled a stroke closer to the old man.

“You can’t figure it out, huh?” Leonard blew out a soft breath, took off his glasses, and looked at Jake with tired eyes. “I come here every morning. Every morning of the year. Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. I’m here without fail. I’ve been coming here every morning for the past forty years.”

Leonard looked away, and when he turned back, the sadness in the man’s eyes was so deep it struck Jake like a gong. An instant later it was replaced by a steely resolve.

“So let’s drop that and get on to you.”

“Why?” Jake paddled even closer. “Why do you come here every morning?”

“Now you are asking a stupid question. You know why.”

And in a flash, Jake did. Leonard came here every morning searching for the corridor. For a way in. So he could get what he wanted most in the world, just like Jake, just like any man or woman would. But why believe in something that had proven to be false for so many years?

“Why do you keep searching for it? Why do you still believe it’s real?”

Leonard stared in the direction of the reeds where Jake had exited and spoke more to the cattails than to Jake. “I made a choice.”

“What choice?”

“Same one you’re going to have to make soon.”

“Tell me.”

Leonard leaned forward and pulled in the rope attached to his tiny anchor. Not that he needed it in the still waters at the end of the lake, but it was probably a habit born of years of fishing on Willow Lake in conditions not so benign.

“Lemme tell you something, Palmer.” He hoisted the anchor into the boat. “I like you. So there’s a big part of me that wants to tell you what I know, but I think you should probably figure that out on your own, and since I’m not sure if I’m right, I’m going to keep my mouth shut.”

“Why do I need to figure it out on my own?”

“It’s the way it is.”

“How do you know these things?”

“I don’t ‘know these things’ like I just told you. I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong. I only know what happened to me. Maybe with you it will be different.”

“What will be different?”

Leonard finished securing the anchor in the bow of his boat and gripped its sides. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Press in. Face it when it comes.”

Jake dug hard into the water and propelled himself across the five feet that separated him from Leonard, then took hold of the old man’s rowboat and spoke through gritted teeth.

“I need to know everything I can about the corridor and what does and can go on in there, and you know everything about it.”

Leonard clasped his hands together, and his eyes once again turned in the direction of the cattails. “I don’t know much, son.”

“I know you do.”

“So little. I know so very little about that place.”

“But you’ve been there, Leonard, haven’t you?” Jake shook the rowboat, but Leonard stay fixed in his seat as if he were on dry ground. “Answer me. You’ve been there, I know this.”

“Yes.” The old man’s eyes turned to stone and he flicked his chin at Jake. “But no one gets a do-over on the corridor tour.”

“What happened?”

Leonard grabbed Jake’s hand, yanked it off the rowboat and shoved himself away. “Leave it alone, Slick.”

“Tell me, Leonard. What was the wrong choice you made?”

Leonard growled and dipped his oars in the water and pulled hard. Ten seconds later he’d pushed through the thin outer layer of reeds and faded from sight.

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At lunch out on the deck, Susie slapped both hands on the table and said to everyone, “I’ve been thinking about something since poker last night. Since this is a group that likes to go deep, I want to invite you to go deep as we sit in this paradise with a crystal lake in front of us and a cloudless sky overhead.”

“Wow. Poetic.” Peter grinned. “I can tell this is going to be good.”

“You know it.” Susie winked at Peter. “I’m going to ask a question, and the first thing that comes to mind is what you have to answer with.”

Susie locked eyes with each of them before continuing. “Everyone in?”

Everyone around the table nodded except Jake. But Susie either didn’t see or ignored him. Jake would bet his life on the latter.

“Great! Like I said, I’ve been thinking about the poker game. Specifically the bluff Ari pulled off on Camille, and her ability to see that Jake was bluffing when he went all in.

“What is bluffing but pretending?” Susie spread her hands on the table. “Saying something is real when it isn’t. Putting up a false pretense and trying to get everyone else to believe it. But it’s not just poker, it’s life, too, right? We all wear masks and desperately hope no one will peek underneath. And yet there’s a big part of us that wants to take off the mask. That would be freedom.”

Jake’s stomach tightened as Susie continued.

“We trust each other, have shared deep hurts and wonderful triumphs. So what I want to do is have all of us tell what our biggest bluff is, the one we desperately hope no one finds out about.”

Susie sat back and Jake watched her watch the faces of her friends. When she reached him, Susie glanced away. He guessed the look in his eyes wasn’t the warmest at the moment.

“Okay, now that I’ve given time for that first thought to roll around in your brain for a few moments, let’s get started.” She laughed and said, “And since I’m the idiot who came up with this stupid idea, I’ll go first. But before I do, please know I have this in my hand.”

She pulled the wooden baton out from under her leg and waved it in the air. “I will give it next to whoever isn’t nice to me when I tell you my bluff.”

She pressed her lips together, looked toward the trees to the west, and gave a quick nod. “People say I have a nice figure, and I do work at it, but there’s more to the story. When I was in the tweener years, I got pudgy, and my dad teased me about it. Teasing is putting it nicely. I decided right then I would never ever, never ever ever get heavy. I’ve never had an eating disorder, but I still hated the bumps on my legs that I couldn’t get rid of no matter what I did.”

Susie let her head fall back and a soft groan floated toward the sky. “I can’t believe I’m going to confess this, it’s so completely embarrassing. Why did this have to be the first thing that popped into my mind? Arrrgh! Fine. Fine, fine. You want to know. You really want to know? I had liposuction. There, I said it. You happy? I had liposuction on my upper legs and part of my butt.”

She dropped the baton onto the table and covered her face with her hands. Andrew put his arm around her shoulder and drew her into his chest.

“Well spoken, love.”

“That’s so cool.” Camille leaned forward. “Where’d you have it done?”

Susie laughed and shook her head. “I love you, Camille.”

Andrew waved his forefinger. “Who’s next?”

Susie grinned and shoved the baton to her left. “Why, look at that, dear. It looks like it’s right in front of you.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and said, “I pretend I don’t like dessert, but I really do.”

The joke fell flat, and Andrew’s gaze dropped to the table. He looked like he was trying to hide his thick frame behind his chicken-salad sandwich.

“The one I don’t want to admit even to myself, let alone you guys, is the one that came to mind immediately, so that’s of course the one I have to let out. Right? Of course right.”

Susie squeezed his hand, her face full of knowing and compassion. Andrew rapped the table twice with the baton and continued.

“Growing up, my dad hammered me if I ever said, ‘I don’t know.’ He drilled into me the idea that you always had to have an answer anytime, anywhere, for anyone who asked a question. He told me I had to answer with conviction and strength.

“I grew to believe telling someone ‘I don’t know’ is the worst response possible. I haven’t said those words since age thirteen. Even if I don’t know the answer, I give one.” Andrew glanced around the table, then focused on his chips again. “I’m not lying exactly, I’m not trying to deceive anyone. I just come up with an answer, even if I have to guess some of the facts and make some of it up along the way. I fight it and hate myself for doing it, but it’s been a tough habit to break.”

The confession didn’t surprise Jake, just as it wouldn’t surprise anyone around the table except Ari. Jake had known it for years. And instead of making him think less of Andrew, the admission made his respect for the man grow. No one commented, but they didn’t need to. Their faces spoke of acceptance and grace with more power than their words could have. From the expression of peace on Andrew’s face, he caught his friends’ sentiment. And the truth shall set you free.

“Who are you going to hand the baton to?” Susie asked.

Andrew pointed it at Peter. “You’re up, my man.”

“Wow.” Peter leaned forward, elbows on the table, and let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think this would be so hard.”

After the laughter died down, Peter rubbed his temples. “I say the second thing that came to mind, right?”

“Go ahead,” Andrew said. “Keep stalling, we have all night.”

Peter groaned and threw his head back. When he brought it forward again, his eyes were somber. “If you ask anyone at the office they’ll tell you I’m nuts about the NBA. I’m in three NBA fantasy leagues. I can quote you stats on the leading players on every team and predict the next superstar coming out of college with amazing accuracy. I’m not so good at football, but I can keep up with most guys when it comes to the NFL and college ball. But it’s all a front. I hate basketball. I hate football. I really don’t like sports.”

Andrew’s eyes went wide but he didn’t say anything.

“When I was young, I was always tall for my age. Ever since the age of eight my uncles and older cousins would sing, ‘Peter, Peter, you’re so tall, why don’t you play basketball?’ When it came to football, they said I’d make a great tight end once I put on weight. The QB could throw the ball so high I was the only one who could catch it. I wanted to be one of the guys, so I tried out for both sports and I was horrible in each of them. Worse in basketball.

“There it is, folks.” Peter opened his palms. “My bluff. I’m the great pretender. I’m not macho. I never will be.”

“Way to go, Pete.” Andrew smacked him in the arm. “You’re such a stud. Always were, always will be in my book.”

After the others offered their support as well, Peter pointed the baton at Jake’s chest. “Your turn, Clark.”

Jake chuckled and said, “Since you said Ari could take the fifth anytime this week, and she has agreed to play this game, I’m going to borrow her pass.”

“Ehhhhh! Sorry, pal.” Peter knocked on the table in front of him. “That’s only good for Ari, not the rest of us.”

“But what about that amendment to the summer-gathering constitution about being single? Don’t I recall that if someone is single, they don’t have to—”

“Oh, come on, Jake,” Camille spouted. “Ari is going to go and she barely knows us, but you’re not willing to go?”

Jake considered lying, but he’d end up confessing the lie later anyway. As his heart hammered away inside his chest, he tried to figure out a way to escape. In the end, he made a lame excuse about having to use the bathroom and didn’t return.

Susie found him fifteen minutes later down on the dock. “Nice exit.”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“I wouldn’t be either.”

He glanced at her, then went back to watching the lake. “Why’d you do that to me?”

“I did it to all of us.” She pointed back toward the cabin with her thumb. “Everyone played, even Ari. Everyone but you.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Because it would mean telling Ari about the incident?”

Jake didn’t need to confirm Susie’s assertion. Of course that’s what it was. He looked at her and spoke the words he knew she wanted to hear. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.”

“What?” Jake whipped his head toward her. “You don’t think I have the guts to do it? If I say I’m going to tell her tomorrow, I will tell her tomorrow.”

“I believe you.” Susie’s face grew serious. “But since she’s leaving this evening, tomorrow will be too late.”

“What?” Jake lurched forward. “I thought she’d decided to stay the full ten days.”

“Guess not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.” Susie motioned up toward the cabin. “I just found out.”

“I have to talk to her. Have to.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“This is crazy, it’s only been a week, but I think I’m in . . .” Jake trailed off, unable to say the words.

“Yes. You most certainly are.” Susie clapped him on the shoulders. “Go.”

Jake held his breath. “Any idea where she is?”

“Out on the grass overlooking the lake, last I saw.”

Jake was headed toward the stairs leading up to the house when Susie’s voice stopped him. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“It will go better than you think, my dear brother.”

Jake walked onto the deck praying Susie was right, but knowing there was a high probability she was dead wrong.