Tuesday, 21 October 2008

The lake

I woke up fast, a passing between sleeping and being fully awake that wasn’t a passing, but happened more like the flick of a switch. One moment I was dreaming about what I wanted to do while I awake, and the next moment I was there, ready to go and do it. I hopped out of bed, already wearing the brown shorts that I wore all day yesterday and would wear all day today. The dirt and sand had hardened the cotton into pants that somehow seemed better than they would if they had just come out of the dryer. They knew what I went through, and they were ready for more. Just like me waking up, there was no break in period for my shorts, it was instant action. I ran past the bathroom, loving the fact that my mom hadn’t intercepted and made me brush my teeth. I opened the front door and breathed in the air that could only come off of a diamond lake bay. The sun, though it was scorching, did not phase my skin, which had become as bronze as a penny. Most of it was tan, but of course, some of it was dirt. I looked at the donut’s and hoped to God there was one with sprinkles, and thanks be to God, there was. I ate a donut and drank an ice cold coke while walking down to the sand to let my toes know where I was and what kind of day I was going to have.

The day would pass, full of ice cold cokes, more than enough candy, and all the swimming and sand bar football a human body can handle. When that would get boring, the jet ski was fired up, and I would run the hell out of it, throwing 360’s at top speed, doing everything in my power to get myself in a situation where I would fall. This however, hardly happened. If careers were built on jet ski skill I wouldn’t be in college today. My fiancé, though she hates swimming, would be right there with me, through it all, smiling as she mostly sat and watched as I ran around the lake with enough energy to power Chicago for a week.

Then, as it got dark, everyone there would tell me it’s time for a bonfire, and I would go around looking for magazines that no one will ever read, and I’d give them to my cousin to crumple up while I took my brother and fiancé to an undisclosed spot in the truck to go get a hidden stash of firewood back in the woods. The ice cold cokes were replaced by ice cold beer, and the bonfire would bring out conversations which had a depth that a philosophy class could only hope to match. I would be the last one to go to sleep when the fire and the conversation died down, because times like those are ones that I never want to end.

~Deric Poorman

1 comment:

Jonathan Taylor said...

Dear Deric,

My favourite line here is:

"down to the sand to let my toes know where I was and what kind of day I was going to have" ...

... this is good stuff - a really original way of putting it.

Thanks for posting this, Jonathan