Can water commit murder?

“Can water commit murder?” I asked as we both bit back our shots of alcohol.

“Why not?” the near-stranger in the Letterman jacket standing next to me asked as he looked at his now-empty small plastic cup with derision. Opening and closed his mouth as if to air out the bitterness resting on his tongue. Looking every bit at a man who’d just swallowed poison. “It can be a liquid, a gas, a solid… why not a murderer.” His voice was low, sapped as if he were speaking in his sleep, and this scene was a bad nightmare.

I evaluated him from the corner of my eyes, much like I had these last couple of years since it happened. Wondering if he was still the lightweight I knew before he packed on all that added muscle and turned into a celebrity—hoping I didn’t give him too much. Jake grew, which was expected of boys as they transformed into men, but he grew further than any expectations. Six foot seven, two-hundred eighty pounds, a body cast of iron. Jake barely resembled his old self—only his artic blue eyes and crooked, sharp canine grin remained of the boy who once rubbed a bleeding cut on his arm into mine as we swore an oath to one another. A forever pact, bounding us by our blood to one another for life. Funny, my first-ever pact. “Jacked-up Jake,” they called him, and for a good reason. That little weasel of a boy was gone, in its place, a warrior waiting to sprint away from Wailen Hill, this small crumb town Jake and I called home our entire lives.

“You know, Mrs. Carol told me that if she died here, they would’ve found her body when they dragged the lake.” The empty plastic shot cup a leaf of guilt threatening to capsize the entire boat. I dropped it onto the grass. Jake picked it up immediately, tucking it into his Letterman. His respect for this place was profound—why not, it wasn’t he who lost his love here. He gained it. The love for himself.

Jake gave me an embarrassed look, then projected a sardonic laugh, a scowl forming on his face. “That counselor is an idiot. She told Becky not to take her SAT’s. Told her she’d be better off in a community college.”

I shrugged, trying my best not to seem agreeable, though I very much was; Becky had as much business gambling on an eighty-thousand dollar degree as the rest of us, though with her, it wasn’t so much of a gamble, as it was lighting money on fire.

“She’s not stupid, Dan.” He insisted a bit heartier than I would’ve liked. The boat may have taken Jake a little too far into the waters of manhood, but it left me at the port. My hundred-seventy-pound, asthma-riddled self would put up as much of a fight against Jake as a surfboard against a U-boat torpedo. “Sure she’s no freakin’ phenom like Sarah was—destined to be the next Fritz Strassman or Tesla. But she’s smart enough to attend Penn State with me!”

“Y-yeah …s-s-sure. I think Becky is a swell girl,” I said as I rubbed at the back of my head. My feet dancing timidly underneath.

“Dan, I’ve known you all my life; I know when you’re lying.” He looked at my feet, a thin canine visible in a rueful grin.

I clapped. Then shrugged again. “What does my opinion matter anyway? She’s your girl; you’re happy; that’s all that should count. No?”

Jake turned away from me, facing the object of our scorn—the ever-present canvas of our nightmares two years. “You’re right… as always.” He looked down, kicking an unluckily-shaped pebble off the grassy knoll into the black still waters waiting underneath. It barely made a noise. He flinched as if it hit the water like a battering ram. “You think Sarah….”

“I don’t!” It was a sharp interruption, one that surprised me just as much as Jake, but it was prudent. Out of all the people to talk about Sarah to me these last couple of years, Jake was the only other one who knew something close to the truth; though, the depths of the waters beneath this tight-rope I was walking on eluded him. Thankfully.

“You still…” he paused, waiting for another interruption, but this one was slow at floating forward. “You still,” Jake began again, the question plain.

“I do,” I said sorrowfully, my voice frayed—desperation wrapped in the truth of it.

Jake nodded and took a breath. “What… is there that can help.” The wind hit us then. Pulling off the lake that rested in front of us, the setting sun shone off its slick surface.

The moon could hurry up, and I wouldn’t mind a bit of luck, maybe, I thought. “Nothing,” I answered, bundling myself deeper into my hoody, what was inside reminding me of the truth: healing first begins with me. “Well, time, according to Mrs. Carol, should help. Yet time and time again, when I return to thoughts of Sarah, they broaden and sink deeper—like this lake after it rains for days. Instead of stinging, like the thoughts of her used to, they—”

“Try to swallow you,” Jake finished for me.

“Yeah…” I coughed. It was bitter-sweet to know Jake missed Sarah—that his guilt hadn’t melted and broken apart like sheets of ice giving way to the breath of spring. But that he still slipped on it, like I still did. And it’ll only get worse. “You ever regret it?” I asked expectantly.

“No,” Jake said starkly. Turning back toward me, his hands in the pockets of his blue letterman jacket with an embroidered W on the front that stood for Wailen Hill Wizards. Our soon-to-be-former high school. “I don’t. I regret what happened to Sarah… yeah… but that wasn’t my choice. Now was it?”

I ground my teeth as the edge of guilt gave way to anger. Jake always knew the right thing to say, huh? “Don’t start with that bullshit,” I chewed angrily. “You knew as much as I did—”

“I didn’t know anywhere near what you knew about that spell—or whatever. At first, I thought it was a game. I only took it seriously because of how you were acting. It wasn’t until I saw Sarah….” Jake took a step toward me, his hulking presence casting a shadow like that of an ancient oak. His eyes glistened; in them, I saw the impatient moon waiting for its reign to begin, for the sun to finally slide under the horizon. I also saw myself doubled, like a malignant tumor, multiplying. All he had to do was shut his eyes, and it’d all be right again. “Until she was floating,” Jake mused, “and her lips were blue, and her skin was pale, and…and she…she was… c-cold, and you had that dagger--”

“And you just so happened to know exactly what to wish for?” I asked, cutting in, meeting his gaze and in it, meeting myself—my despicable, no-good self.

“Listen, I thought it was a joke.” Jake spat onto the grass at our feet, careful to turn away from the silent dark water to our side. He knew what waited beneath; better to not let it get a taste. “I thought it all was part of an elaborate game. Like DND, you and her loved make-believe. So much so you thought you could cast cancer out of her.” He laughed; it was a hollow, bitter thing. “You became obsessed with it. I just wanted to fit in, to support you… my…” He took a breath and looked away. “I always wanted to be more—to grow and make something of myself. You knew that—how desperate I was. I didn’t just wanna be another disappointment—bitter and hollow. And I felt I was… that I was….”

I am an utter piece of shit. An unscrupulous bastard. But what wizard isn’t? Certainly, no one here could call themselves: good. “No…” I groaned, the audacity too much for me to bear. “You got what you dreamed and just admitted to not regretting any of it—yet you act like you didn’t know what you were doing.” I gave a jagged chuckle, “Do not mistake me for your booty call; I’m not so easily fooled.”

He rounded on me, his pointer finger bounding off the boney center of my chest. “Don’t you talk about Becky—don’t even say her name. You black magic devil. You satan worshipper.”

I didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze, hoping to give him the same show he gave me: hoping that two images of himself reflected back would help clear up the devious smog of innocence that suffocated his mind. But, instead, he poked and poked and poked at me, each touch pushing me back more and more. Each touch hardened my judgment. I shifted the contents of my sweatshirt, biting back the urge to defend myself—knowing it would do nothing but make things worse. That acting too soon got me in this mess, to begin with. I looked up at the soon-to-be night sky and found the moon, its shape calming me, cementing my mind to its purchase. Almost time, I thought. Seeing the lake’s surface begin to ripple in movement.

“You’re just fucking jealous,” he continued. “It’s not even that Sarah is gone, but that you didn’t get what you wanted. That you couldn’t save her—and in fact, killed her. That I got my wish, and not you. That’s why you’ve been so cold these last two years.”

“Me?” I asked, wondering if that was closer to the truth than he realized.

“Yes, you!” Jake yelled, his voice echoing off the now stirring water below.

Breathe. “I was the one who reached to you, remember? I was the one to console you after. You are the one who decided to stop responding to my texts and phone calls, and whenever I stopped by, you’d have your mom tell me a lie about how you were sick, or out, or sleeping. So it was a relief when she finally cracked and said to stop coming by.”

“My mom hated you,” Jake said with a sneer. “She’d always try to swing me towards other people, but I was too caught up in the mystique of Daniel Bromer to ever be persuaded. Always come to your defense if she said anything ill to say. And trust me, after that incident with the dead cat, she had a bunch of ill to speak on your behalf.” His hands pressed into his Letterman jacket, his intense blue eyes no longer pools, but lasers of loathing aimed entirely at me.

Empty pockets. Good. “Your mom is a religious nutjob, and I’m glad she disliked me—meant I was living.”

Jake took a hard snort and turned to walk away. “I don’t even know why I came. Fuck you.”

The sky was deep in the final dark-purple throes of day. The constant splash of gentle waves lapping upon the shore below served as a rhythmic beat to the scene. Don’t let him leave without fixing this! “I’m sorry,” I said, that too echoing off the water. Jake stopped but didn’t turn my way. That worked—and it kind of felt good. “I didn’t mean to be… this way.” I gestured to my messy, greasy hair. Dirty hoody and tattered jeans. “I know you were a good—no, great friend. And I know I wasn’t always the best back. Especially after…”

“After Sarah… I know. I felt like I was your lab rat. All you did was ask questions, how I felt, what I was eating. Then, when I started to grow, you made it feel like more your victory than mine. It was all too much.”

Oh please, you were basically given a skin mech, don’t tell me this wasn’t my doing. “I’m sorry,” I repeated it, and again it felt good, fighting my feet to remain stationary. “I felt I failed Sarah, and I… well, I didn’t want to fail you. I wanted to make sure you were healthy and well. I know I was a bit excessive.”

Jake gave another laugh, this one more exasperated and amazed than anything else. “A bit? Huh?”

I shrugged. “Okay…well, what can I say? I like the results.” I flexed my near-nonexistent biceps, and we both shared a laugh.

“I was the first time?” Jake asked, his eyes pleading.

“You mean… did I sacrifice others?”

“Yeah…”

“People or--?”

“I knew it,” Jake kicked the grass. “ Those cats?”

“Only the ones too sick—on their last leg.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you… you’re not a vet; you don’t know what their last leg is….”

“Trust me,” I said, rolling my eyes, “With some of them, you certainly can.”

“Jesus…”

“Has no place here,” I returned.

“And neither do sick cats, apparently.”

I offered a meek smile. “No, those have a place.”

Jake scoffed and wiped at his face. “If it helps, I didn’t like it… but dogs put too much of a fight up. And I needed to see—to test. With this magic, you’re playing with life and death. So… trial and error are key.”

“And yet… Sarah is dead, and I’m a once Army recruit about to play Division One football with NFL scouts watching me in the stands. Something tells me that wasn’t the plan?”

I bit my lip, trying to hide the rueful smile underneath altogether imprudent for the moment at hand. “It’s certainly an ordeal.”

“So, I’m here… as I promised y-you,” he stuttered a bit at the end of his sentence.

I looked up to the sky, seeing night finally take its rightful place of dominance. The moon up above—full. Its shine accenting off the now-churning waters underneath.

“Thank you. Honestly, I was worried you wouldn’t make it—or forget.”

Jake sighed slowly. I could tell he was tired. “I actually kind of looked forward to this moment. I’m starting a new chapter of my life, and I wanted to start it with no animosity left in my past.”

“Checks out,” I said, my eyes fixed on the water.

He sighed again, pursing his lips in confusion. “And… so, well- I’m, j-just happy to g-get this opp—” He grabbed at his face, bending over toward the water slightly. “I don’t feel… right.”

“That’ll be the meds I put in your shot,” I said without looking over.

“The w-what,” he turned towards me. And I did him. His eyes dropped to my still feet.

“Yeah… there’s uhh, one part left of this little procedure of mine.” I pulled out the black-hilted dagger I’d been hiding in the innards of my sweatshirt since he arrived.

“Wh-what’s that for…?” he asked, realization darkening his words as he tried to shift away from me. He fell backward on his butt, his massive arms near-useless in their attempt to pull him away.

“It’s to bring Sarah back,” I said, the truth feeling best on my lips.

Jake made it to the beach area closest to the lake, just as I thought he would. His eyes tried their best to stay in focus, but I could tell they were on the brink of closing. “She’s dead… man. She’s gone.”

“No, see…she would’ve been, at the rate she was going. She could hardly breathe. The doctors were no help. God…” I looked above us. “Well, he seemed indifferent to her pain. So, I took it upon myself, fully.” I produced a small, skin-bound black and red book from one of my other hoody pockets. “I’d always been good at problem-solving. Just ask all the neighborhood kitties.”

“You freak…” Jake croaked.

I shrugged again. “Life is the monster. I’m just the guy with a dagger willing to do something about it.”

“You were… my friend.”

“Yeah… and she was yours—but you didn’t seem too mad about her death giving you your dreams, now did cha?”

“Please,” He begged, his once-rigid arms held up weakly in defense. “Please.”

I batted them away—useless aside from one last thing. I leaned in, whispering: “If it helps, you’d be dead before the NFL anyways. The spell is quite volatile towards the lamb if it isn’t properly slaughtered... You essentially took her life force… and now I’ll take it back. The beauty of it is, she’ll come back minus any defects, like a cleaned chalkboard. Ready for life—the one she should’ve always had. One worth more than being good at catching a weird-shaped ball.”

Then I plunged my dagger into his sternum. Like a pebble into deep waters, it sank with no effort. Butterflying him on a sandy beach as the dark waters ahead of him grew into a frothy tide of expectancy. It was its sacrifice, its just desserts. Then, after cutting him open and exposing the organs underneath, I dragged him—no easy feat—into the shallows. The water flowed into him, absorbing his energy into it. I waited for his body to sink, then pushed him away into the deeper, darker waters. Jake’s skin paled as he sunk. His brilliant blue eyes opened. A chill shot down me as I watched Jake slowly disappear beneath the waves.

Minutes later, with my apprehensions near-bursting, a shape broke through the surface of the moon-lit water. A pair of blue eyes wading towards me. I nearly jumped back before realizing it was the summation of my dreams. Sarah was swimming back to me. Her lips pink, her smile wide, her skin the picture of health.

“You’re back,” I cried out.

She snorted back. “Fuck Cancer.”

“I just did.”