The Wrong Reflection

Summers in northern Michigan can be unbearably humid. The variety of tiny creatures adds to the nightmare from all angles. The lightning bugs, the only heroes of these damp nights. They just fly around being beautiful. Imagine how self-reliant they must feel. Isn't that what we all truly wish for? To light our own paths with conviction?

The rest of the winged invaders relentlessly assault the ears, eyes, and nose. Sucking blood and taking bites at will. The night consumes you. The sunsets? Intoxicating. Then. It. Is. Time. To. Run!

The one reprieve is the water. The lakes stay crisp and refreshing. The bottom is visible as far as the light shines. Underwater the buzzing stops. The attacks are held at bay. It's wonderful. But one must breathe.

Something about the woods is the opposite of underwater. It's alive and unbearably mischevious. Childish in many ways. Just like a child accidentally killing a bug it has found. The woods claims many on accident.

I met the woods one time. I know no other way to explain it. I was off far past the lake. Taking pictures of the golden hour. The bugs had already started their nonsense. Or had they? I see them starting to come around but they're not biting. Or trying to fly in my ear. This is strange.

"They are never going to believe you"

I jumped out of my skin!!!!

"Oh I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

This guy looked strange. Not clean cut per se, more like a dapper hippie. Tall as hell, thin like a basketball player. I'm pretty sure I peed a litte.

"I did not see you there, you startled me pretty bad."

His smile should have made me uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, did you say, they are never going to believe me?"

The nod really really should have made me uncomfortable. Who doesn't know how to nod normally?

"What aren't they going to believe?

The smile was actually comforting, the voice even more so.

"I actually prefer the winter. The summer is so rushed. So much to do. The winter is just... peaceful." The sentence finished with an even more comforting smile.

The bugs were staying away from us. The sun was retreating into the horizon. A distinct line cutting across trees, shadow green below, a warm orange glow above.

"It's just busy. So so so so busy. Being busy feels so important. Effort spent to earn the longer rests. Walk with me please."

Yes. Walking with strangers in the woods. No alarms going off. Why are the bugs not biting?? This is so weird!

"The lake has been there longer than any of these trees. These ponds come and go. I hear the kids play on them when they freeze. Their laughter is so precious. You used to play here."

What the hell?

"I remember when you stopped laughing"

Ok, weirded the hell out now. What is going on? Why are the bugs not biting?!

"I miss the laughing."

What does that mean?? Why can't I talk?? WHY ARE THE BUGS NOT BITING?!?!

"Nobody is going to believe you, but I am asking, as a favor, bring the kids here. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I am really sorry about what happened. They want to laugh. You need to laugh again. Please bring them. Make memories right here again."

I remember this face now. I remember being pushed and pulled out of the water. The ice moved. I saw his face. In the reflection under the ice. His face was where mine was. It was the wrong reflection. The ice moved. I remember telling people. Nobody believed me.

I look around and see the tree line. The tall man is gone. The tree line is all around me. I am on the water. I am standing on the middle of the pond. It's frozen solid! In the middle of summer. In the sweltering heat.

The ice starts to move. I run for the nearest edge. The steps are getting harder and harder as the ice gives way. One last frantic stumble that was intended to be a glorious leap and I crash onto the shore. The water is back to its liquid form sloshing about like an elephant just did a cannonball.

It slowly comes to rest. I get to my feet.

"He's right. Nobody is going to believe me."