The Lake House

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

After.

Also By J.L. Hohler III

I.

Jed woke me.  And not gently, either.  Not the way my mother did it, with all the whispering and hair-stroking and everything she used to do when I was little.  No.  He just took one finger and poked me in the ribs.  Then poked me again.  And again.  And he kept poking me until I was awake.

Jesus, Jed – what the fuck?

I opened my eyes and there he was, squatting next to me.  Leaning real close.  Too close.  His face right next to mine.

You awake, bitch? he said.

I...

He slapped me then – hard.  Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to make my ear ring.

What the—?  I shoved him away.  "What the fuck was that?"

How about now? he said.  "You awake now?"

I stuck a finger in my ear.  Hummed until the ringing one away.

Well? he said, again.  You awake?

Yeah, I said.  I’m awake.

Good, he said.  Then get up.

I sat up and looked around.  I was in his house – somewhere upstairs in Jed’s house.  Couldn’t remember how I got there – upstairs, I mean.  I knew why was it Jed’s house – it was the party.  Jed’s party.  But just because I knew where I was in the house didn’t mean the rest wasn’t hazy.

What time is it?

Late, he said.  Or early – depends on your point of view.

I just want the number, I said.  Give me the number.

Four – I think, he said.  Something like that.

A.M.?

Yeah.

I groaned.

I know, he said, right?

I rubbed my eyes.  Tasted stale beer and vomit on my tongue.  Wasn’t sure the vomit was mine.  Wasn’t sure the stale beer taste was mine either – both could have started with somebody else’s mouth.  I wasn’t sure which was worse – being mine from the beginning, or starting from somebody else.

Come on, fucker, Jed said.  He shoved me with a foot – right in the same spot he poked me before.  Get up.

I’m up.

Good, then help me check the house.

What for?

To make sure nobody’s left behind.

I shook my head.

Why would you wake me up for that?  You don’t need me for that.

He shrugged.

Seemed like a good idea.

But I was fucking sleeping.

Really? He seemed genuinely surprised.  Didn’t look like it to me.

Didn’t look...?  You just had to fucking wake me up!  How did it not look like it?

He shook his head.

You weren’t sleeping – you were passed out.

Same thing.

Actually not, he said.  One’s more involuntary than the other – usually.

Thank you, Mr. Science, I said.  But the point is I wasn’t awake.

So?

So you should have taken the hint and left me alone.

He scratched his head.

"Honestly, that was about the last thing I thought of."

Obviously.

But you’re awake now, so you might as well get up, he said.  So get up.

All right, I’m up, I said.  I’m up.

* * * * *

We started upstairs, because that’s where we were.  First his parents room, then his sister’s – both beds in both rooms looked slept in.  Or at least fucked in.  And there was some underwear on the floor and condom wrappers near them – evidence of the fucking. 

Still, there were no people.

Looks like somebody had some fun, I croaked, nudged a used condom with my toe.  You think?

Don’t joke about that, Jed said and shoved me out.  Not in my parent’s room.

I shrugged.

Don’t get pissed at me – I’m not the one that let them in.

"Just don’t."

The guest room was worse.  Red cups and empty beer cans were all over the floor.  Cigarette butts on the night stand.  Condoms and clothes everywhere.  A weird brown streak on the wall.

I really hope that isn’t shit, I said.

"Why would you hope that? he said.  You going to clean it up?"

No.

All right then – what do you care for?

Just looking out for my fellow man.

Well, don’t.

In the hallway I tried not to trip over the pizza boxes that seemed to be everywhere – pizza boxes and beer cans.

This is fucked, Jed, I said and took it all in.  "Holy shit is this fucked."

It’s not that bad, he said.

Not that bad?

Yeah – not that bad.

"Jed, this is beyond bad, I said.  This is epically fucking bad."

He shrugged.

I don’t know why you’re shrugging, I said.  Your dad’s probably going to have an aneurysm about this.

"He’s not gonna do shit."

"No way – he’s gonna fucking flip, I said.  That’s what he’s gonna do."

Not to worry – I got it under control.

Control?

Yeah.

How do you have it—?

Trust me, he said.  I just do.

I didn’t trust him, but didn’t need to – it wasn’t my house and it wasn’t my father and it was probably not going to be me that died for it.

What about this? I said, when we looked in the bathroom and the smell from in there made it real obvious the brown stains all over the tile on the wall were in fact shit.  "Are you worried about this?"

He shrugged, still said it was no problem.

No problem? I said and breathed through my mouth so I wouldn’t vomit over the shit smell.  "How is this no problem?"

It just isn’t.

But—

Look, I got a maid service coming tomorrow, all right? he said.  Then stopped and looked at the clock.  "Well, I guess I mean I got a maid service coming today – 4 a.m. is tomorrow, right?"

You hired a maid?

"Not a maid, he said.  A whole fleet of them."

You’re kidding?

Why would I be kidding? he said. 

I don’t know, I said.  Because that’s what you do?

Seriously, Mill? he said – Mill being my name, short for Miller.  "Do you really think I’m going to go into this without a plan?"

I...

"Look, just because those assholes in movies throw parties and then act surprised when it turns into a disaster and they have to run around all morning buying their shit back from pimps and clean it before their parents get home doesn’t mean I’m doing that, he said.  We’re not in fucking high school anymore, all right?  We’re adults, so let’s start acting like it."

* * * * *

Downstairs, the lock on the door to his father’s office was intact and inside everything was pristine.  Absolutely pristine.  Even if he wasn’t glad about it, I was.  I mean, even if I wouldn’t catch hell for the house being a mess, I might if the office was – his dad is 100% scary and not to be fucked with.  And because he’s scary, I wouldn’t have been all that surprised if after he beat Jed’s ass pretty much to death for fucking it up, he’d come and beat mine for good measure.

Dodged a fucking bullet there, I said.

Not dodged, he said.  Kept from getting shot at in the first place.

The office might’ve been pristine but everywhere else it looked exactly like it did upstairs – a horrific mess.

The coffee table in the den, with the glass top his mom got from Italy?  Broken.  Smashed in by one of the andirons from the fireplace, which was laying in the pile of glass.  Some of the glass had then been used to cut into the leather couch — also from Italy.  I couldn’t figure why somebody cut the couch open or what they were looking for inside it, but from the way they cut it open and ripped the stuffing out, they were determined to get it.

In the kitchen we found a huge dent in each door of the refrigerator – it was stainless steel – and a chunk of marble was broken off the countertop and had obviously been used to smash a chunk out of the tile on the floor.  It was also probably the piece that dented the refrigerator.

I can’t wait for you to tell me how the maid service will fix that, I said and picked up the piece of marble and fit it back in place.  When I let go, it fell away.  Clunked on the floor.  Broke out another piece of tile.  You got somebody coming that does counters, too?

No, but I probably could.

And the refrigerator?  I pointed out the dents.  You got something for that?

I’ll think of something, he said.  It can’t be that hard to pound out a few dents.  And I can probably fix the counter with some glue or something.

I looked at him, couldn’t believe how cool he was playing it.  Thought he had to be joking.  Because if it were my house, and it was my dad that was the judge, and it was my dad with all the guns and knives and everything, I’d be freaking out.  But Jed wasn’t freaking out – he was cool.

Absolutely cool.

Are you fucking high or something? I said.

What?

You’re too calm, I said.  Are you fucking high or something?  You can tell me.

He grinned.

"Yoga – all yoga, he said.  You should try it sometime – it’s very relaxing."

* * * * *

We finally found a body in the dining room, at the end of the table.  A girl.  Sitting in one of the chairs Jed’s mom imported from Italy – she’s obviously got a thing for Italy.  Head down, passed out.  We couldn’t tell who it was, only it was a girl.

One of your’s? I said.

"One of my what?"

I don’t know, I said.  One of whatever you have.

He shook his head.

I don’t know who that is.

I didn’t either, not until we walked around and leaned down and had a look at her, me standing on side, Jed on the other and then it was only because of her hair I knew her.  There was only one person we knew with that red streak amongst the blonde: Miriam Blaylock.

What the fuck is she doing here? Jed said, looking over the top of her head at me.  Who fucking invited her?

"I don’t know – you handled the guest list."

Don’t get smart, Mill, he said.  Did you invite her or not?

Why would I?

"Because that’s what you do."

I wouldn’t fucking invite her, I said.  "I barely know her."

"Barely doesn’t mean you’re a stranger, he said.  And doesn’t mean you didn’t fucking make out with her at graduation."

"You’re right, it doesn’t – but it also doesn’t mean I did anything but make out with her, I said.  I stuck my tongue in her mouth – that’s it."

Yeah, well, he said, "maybe you brought her so you could stick something else in her."

Yeah, well, I didn’t.

All right, so if you didn’t invite her, he said, then what is she doing here?

It’s a party – people just show up, I said.  They hear things and show up.

He thought on this, couldn’t deny it.

Whatever, he finally said.  However the fuck she got here, she just needs to go.

"What?  Like now?"

He looked at her, then me.

Why not now?

Because she’s sleeping?

Fuck that, he said.  "I woke you up – why wouldn’t I wake her up?"

I don’t know, I said.  "Because for once in your life it wouldn’t kill you to do something that doesn’t make you an asshole?"

I like being an asshole, he said.  And I’m good at it.

I shook my head.

You are fucking cold.

Yeah, I am, he said.  Now, let’s do this.

He reached out then, to grab a handful of her hair, like he was going to shake her and yank her awake by it, but I stopped him before he could.  Smacked his hand away.

What the fuck, Mill?

What the fuck are you doing? I said.

What does it look like? he said.  I’m waking her up.

Yeah, I said, "but you don’t have to do it like that."

"I know I don’t have to, he said.  I do it because I want to."

What the fuck for? I said.  What’d she ever do to you?

He shook his head.

"Man...you have no idea."

You’re right, I said.  I don’t.

I waited for him to give me an idea, but he didn’t.

"Look, if you don’t like it – you do it, he said.  You wake her up."

Fine, I said and did, giving her light little taps on the cheek with the backs of my fingers and rubbing her arm and saying her name softly, like my mom would do, trying to bring her up gentle – more gentle than Jed was with me.  Finally, her eyes fluttered open. 

First she looked at me.  Then she looked at Jed.

What the...? she said.

Good morning, sunshine, Jed said – he did not sound friendly.

She looked at me again.

Mill?

Yeah.

Is that you?

Yeah, I said.  It’s me.

She blinked her eyes, several times.

Where...where am I?

The dining room, I said.

She looked around, her eyes sluggish.

This isn’t my house, she said.  This is not...

No shit it’s not, Jed said.

Then...

"It’s my house, Jed said.  It’s my fucking house."

Oh.

Jed shook his head and wandered off, leaving me and Miriam alone.