There's Something in the Woods

41: July 4th, 2024, 8:13 pm, Fiery Fork Reservoir

Nero

I thought it would be okay. Coming out here. After all this time. But as the sun goes down. And the woods grow dark. It's all the same. The terror builds in the back of my chest, nestled against my spine as if when they stole my voice they left some crippling creature inside me seize at my insides at every inopportune moment.
There must be fifty kids here. Trucks back up. Getting fireworks started. People drinking from red solo cups. It's supposed to be fine. It's a party, damn it. And I insist that I have a good time. I am refusing to let the woods steal this night from me too.
And yet I stare down at the black water of the reservoir, still as it was that fateful night. And I think in my head I'll probably die out here.
"Hey," Todd slips a hand into mine. He smiles easily. His finger so cold in mine. I want to lean against him now yet I do not dare. Not in public. Not here. We shouldn't even be holding hands, but thankfully no eyes are on us.
It's all the same that's all I'm not afraid anymore. I'm resigned. But I think that's worse I sign.
"We're here. We're having fun, we are all right. I wouldn't let it take you," he says.
What can you do?
"We don't know that yet, do we?" He asks, the smooth, easy smile spreading on his face, "We'll never know, what I can do." He leans his head close to whisper the last few words.
Homophobic, red necks do I need to finger spell it? I laugh, leaning away.
"Then come on," he nods at the trees.
Emmy will actually murder me, as it is I paid Mike and Tasha ten dollars each to lie for me I remind him.
"Then might as well get your money's worth," he says, smiling slyly. "Come away with me, I hate the water."
You do? In all we've spoken of I never realized he was afraid of the water. I learned to swim out here, in this Reservoir. Emmy would toss me in, then leap in her self, hair all curly and wet, water droplets glistening on our skin.   Of course we've not been out here in years.
"Yeah, terrified. I can't swim at all. I wouldn't even take baths or anything, when I first, well, can remember, after they found me, I wouldn't shower or take a bath, I sobbed that I would drown," he says, shrugging.
Well you don't have to be afraid anymore. I'll swim for both of us I tell him.
"You would as well," he says, touching my ear with his cold soft fingers, then putting them through my hair.
Can you not be gay for ten minutes while we're surrounded by weird rednecks? I laugh.
"I mean, clearly no," he says, tugging on my hands, "Come away from the water. I don't like it."
I told you, I'll swim for us both. So long as I'm here you won't drown, I wouldn't let you, I say.
"And what about when you're not around?" He asks, his voice rough with fear, as he looks out at the black water, still in the sunset.
I'll figure something out, that's what love does. It saves you when you least expect it I sign.
"Wow, wow you get to—okay, fuck it, not fair can't hold your hands and talk," he laughs, blushing when I say that I love him, What makes you think love is stronger than whats out there? Or even real?
You said yourself that I don't know what you can do I frown.
"Well that's true, you do not. Nor do I perhaps," he says, eyes misty.