Lake Charles Read Online Free PDF Page B

we’d last seen Edna steering the jet ski.
    Groaning, he planted the push pole on the lake bottom and hoisted his weight to thrust forward. His bass boat slithered over the algae like a sled’s runners did over the ice. “What contagion thrives in this witches’ brew?”
    The pellets of sweat dribbled into my eyes. My fingers gripping the pole were unable to rub off the salt’s sting as I grunted. “You don’t want to know.”
    He detached from the scum zone and let his bass boat coast. “One more oomph , buddy, and you’re home free.”
    One grunt later, I teamed with him in the clear pool. “If she wrecked, we’d have caught the jet ski’s dead man switch cutting off.”
    “Maybe. If her gas ran out, she’s marooned and waiting on us to bring her a can.”
    “Siphoning gas makes me puke.”
    He rolled his tense neck. “First we’ll go check out what’s what.”
    Our engines cranking loud as a pair of blenders, we aimed at the target inlet, and pushed the throttles to scud over Lake Charles. The wind pasted my hair back into a ducktail, and my eyes canted to the dusk’s fireball sun. New fears rattled me. As nightfall swallowed us, Lake Charles grew in size, doubling our search efforts. I, then him, poured it on.
    Will Thomas Mountain’s burnt purple shadows draped over three young fools who out piddling around had pushed things a little too far. I hated Lake Charles. I hated our trip here. I hated the smoke plumes smudging the twilit horizon. I hated the dozens of fires destroying wilderness. Yeah, I simmered in a hateful mood.
    The earth dam’s drop-off edge sliced into sight. Tree stumps with gnarled roots, splintered stepladders, and a crimped kayak glutted the concrete spillway. The colder, deeper water close to the earth dam fell to a denser jade, almost opaque color. From the corner of my eye, I saw an arm motion, Cobb indicating to cut it back. I did and we glided closer. His jerky glances inspected the shorelines. Our hopes to spot a disabled jet ski or a stranded Edna were fading with the daylight.
    “She may’ve taken a tumble.”
    His headshake disagreed. “Can’t be. Look again. The water is just a riffle over the spillway.”
    “But if the jet ski bucked, she’d hurtle over the spillway.”
    He removed the sunshades and fitted them upside-down on his mesh cap’s beak. “Okie-dokie, Brendan. Check the spillway and make a liar out of me. Go ahead. But I’ll stick with saying she didn’t make it this far.”
    “Show me your proof.”
    “I see no sign of her or the crotch rocket. So, what’s left?”
    “We search on the opposite side of the dam.”
    “All right, lead us over.”
    We skirted the rust-pitted overflow pipe sticking a foot above the waterline and pulled the bass boats up on the dam’s pebbly embankment. I saw how the water had undercut the earth wall, and I led us up its incline. Anxiety fluted his forehead. On the dry flank, a moonscape of limestone riprap prevented the erosion, but it had failed. I noticed seepage beyond the riprap near the dam’s base, a clue to the weakening dam material. He noted it, too.
    “Didn’t I warn you this dike is set to blow?”
    Goldenrod, asters, and jewelweed carpeted the spillover area. We canvassed the length of the dam’s crest but found nothing of Edna. Crouching like a pair of cowboys, we talked under an alder tree, him first.
    “Other ideas?”
    “Patrol the lake’s perimeter. She had to put in somewhere between here and Lang’s Teahouse.”
    “It makes sense. We’ll split up. You go left, and I’ll patrol the right side.” He stood. “I can’t imagine what became of her.”
    “She rammed a submerged log, wiped out, and dog-paddled to ground.”
    He nodded. “At least she’d better sense than we did for not wearing our lifejackets.”
    “She isn’t a big risk taker.”
    “Only when she took the gamble on marrying yours truly.”
    His quip fell limp after I said nothing, and we parted company. Perched on the