The Melting Season Read Online Free PDF Page A

Sunny Day. “Come in and get yourself a nice lunch up at the lodge. Do yourself a favor and try their Black Angus burgers. Big as your head.”
    But Thomas was not hearing a thing. He was already off dreaming on the water, it was just a matter of catching the right wind. I sat and looked at him, my belly and breasts pressed up against the life vest. It was hard to breathe for a second. Mr. Sunny Day stood on the dock watching us, his hands on his hips, a weird grin on his face. His legs were skinny and hairless at the top, I noticed that. And his shorts were too short for a man his age. Out on the water the two boys kayaking started splashing each other with their paddles until one of them yelled, “Quit it!”
    Thomas got on the boat and it rocked a bit. I thought for sure we were going down. I closed my eyes and sucked in my breath and prayed for my husband to be strong, out on the water, out in the world. And then I opened my eyes and we were sailing! We were floating so free, me and him, Moonie and Thomas, stars, sun, moon, water, mountain, trees, bees, birds, him and me.
    We floated around for an hour like that, not saying much, just beaming at each other. I allowed myself to lie back and take off my life vest and T-shirt, my new pink-striped bikini underneath. Thomas had not seen it yet and his eyes got big and he let out a dirty little laugh. My hair was up in a ponytail and Thomas told me to take it down so I did, and the wind blew it back around me. I felt famous.
    “You are gorgeous,” said Thomas.
    “Thanks, sailor,” I said.
    We made our way around the lake and looked at all the other log cabins. We waved to some little kids messing around at the shore, building little castles out of empty beer cans. Near the quieter end I could see a deer standing at the edge of some trees. I got excited. I had seen deer before but never while sitting on a yellow sailboat being steered by my new husband.
    I started thinking about how we could make sailing our new hobby. Maybe someday we would be able to afford our own sailboat. Maybe we could come back here every year on our anniversary. It was not the worst thing in the world, leaving home every so often. And the way the air felt on that lake, brushing all over my bare skin. The way Thomas looked at me. It was love. I was not yet twenty years old.
    As we sailed back toward the dock, Mr. Sunny Day, and all his sailboats, I felt calm. I closed my eyes and listened to the rush of the water, the smooth lap against the bottom of the boat. Thomas was sailing faster. I could hear the wind beating against the sail. We were in a race with something. I sat up and looked at Thomas, his face set like stone, his short legs flexing and folding as he wrestled with the sail. He had gotten a crew cut for the wedding, so he even looked like a sailor. The wind picked up a little more and Thomas howled at it. He was just a boy becoming a man. That is all he was trying to be, was a man.
    I wanted to reach out toward him and touch his face and hands and chest, but he was busy with the sail. I looked back toward the shore. We were coming up fast.
    “Thomas,” I said. “Slow it down.”
    “I’m trying,” he said.
    Mr. Sunny Day was on the dock, waving his arms at us. Then, as he saw how fast we were coming in, he sped up his arms, as if waving them faster could somehow make us go slower. Then he started motioning us to the right, away from the dock. I felt the tickle of a laugh in my throat. I mean it was funny, wasn’t it? That we were about to fuck up this boat. And then I got afraid real fast.
    “Tommy, should I jump?” I do not know why I called him “Tommy” just then. I guess I felt like I was a little girl and he was a little boy.
    “I don’t know,” said Thomas. He was frantically grabbing at the sail, trying to turn it in any direction other than the one it was going in, but the sail was not having it. We raced toward the dock. I was frozen: stay or jump, where should I go?