The Water Song

         

It was dark on the lakefront. The only light was from the dim reflection of a half crescent moon on the calm water. He felt the rhythm of the small waves coming to shore, barely making a sound. The man dug his feet into the cool sand as he sat watching the water. Every so often a new ripple would come dangerously close to where he sat, before it cascaded back to the lake. It was almost trancelike. He sat with his knees folded up, his arms leaning back supporting him. The slight breeze that was coming off the water flowed through his black hair. A storm had come through earlier, now that it had passed the humidity was returning. The cool sand and the breeze served as a break from its grasp.

The man heard movement to his right, the trance was broken, he jumped to a standing position at the sound only to see a large deer appear from the woods that surrounded the lake. The deer just as startled as the man broke into a run crashing back into the woods. Both spirits were on edge. The man looked down at his hands, covered in blood and sand. He wiped the blood on his bare chest. He was naked. The lakefront was once again quiet. Getting down on all fours the man crawled into lake, slowly one step at a time entering the water. He felt primal, like an animal. He was a predator. The water washed away the blood from his prey. He was now fully in the lake’s embrace as he rolled over floating on his back, letting the magic of the water erase the evidence of the kill. After several minutes the man stood fully cleansed. He returned to the shore, where he took a set of hiking boots out of his bag. Setting them on the ground, he pulled out a fresh pair of underwear and socks, along with a white T-shirt, denim jeans, and a flannel shirt. He put the new set of clothes on, and closed the bag. Lastly he took a baseball cap and covered his wet hair. He threw the bag over his shoulder, and then walked back into the woods.

A quarter mile into his hike he came to the densely grown area, he had been at only an hour before. Most of the shrubbery was for show. He had added to the bulk after he buried the body and his clothing, hiding the freshly packed earth. The rain from the storm had helped in the disguise, and with any luck in just a day or so the grave would look like any other spot in the forest. It had worked before, and he was confident his methods were solid. Looking down at grave, he spat on it for one last good measure. The body laying three feet below the forest surface would never touch her again, of that much he was certain. The man considered himself a protector.

The man continued on. He began humming a song to himself. It was a song his mother had sang to him as a child and it always helped to bring him an inner peace. Checking his watch he noted the time as 3:30 am. The whole process had taken less than three hours, he was getting better. He readjusted his cap fitting it low on his head as he resumed his hike back to where he had parked the car. With a few hours to spare he looked forward to a few hours sleep before he had to go to work.