Kindred of the Wood

Mara's mother couldn't hold back any longer and snorted as the laughter bubbled up from her. It spread like wildfire through everyone around the fire while Steve looked down, covering his eyes and shaking his head.

The laughter settled a little and Mara's father said, "Thanks so much for telling that story, Uncle Carl. Really — thanks."

Mara and her mother looked at each other, and then simultaneously broke out into laughter again, setting off another round that lasted until her father picked up his guitar and started to play.

Listening to her father strum, accompanied after a bar or so by Wade's father plucking the banjo, Mara looked around at everyone and sighed, already missing her great aunts and uncles and second cousins. Wade, she thought, looked a little distant, his eyes focused on the fire and his expression unreadable. She finished her cup of wine and looked up at the darkening sky. Soon enough, they'd have to start back to their own camps.

She sighed again, and her mother patted her leg, whispering, "I know."

A few minutes later, as she debated whether enough time had passed for her to safely ask for another cup of wine, Mara noticed that Wade was missing from his camp chair. As if reading her mind, her mother said, "He went down by the lake. Why don't you go see if you can figure out what's bothering him?"

"Okay," Mara responded, and handed over her cup. An odd sensation of floating struck her as she stood.

Her mother giggled and shook the cup. "It packs a punch. Walk a little; go see if Wade's okay. You can have some more later if you want it. Just don't get any ideas that it means you're all grown up. You're still my little girl until I say otherwise."

"Okay, Mom." Mara rolled her eyes and turned toward the beach. The floating sensation remained, but not quite so pronounced as it was when she'd first stood up. The walk down to the water felt almost dreamlike, but hardly unpleasant.

As soon as she stepped off the tree-lined path onto the open beach, the most profound and vivid sense of deja vu that Mara had ever experienced washed over her.

It had been a night exactly like this one, the clouds a rosy hue, reflecting the last sliver of the sinking sun. The quiet sound of music drifted down from the camp above, along with the occasional voice or laugh. A cooling breeze stirred her hair as she looked at Wade sitting on the beach; his shoulders slumped as he tossed pebbles toward the water with negligent flips of his wrist.

Five years ago, she'd stepped on this very spot, for the very same reason. Then, she'd immediately skipped to his side and unceremoniously plopped down next to him. He hadn't wanted to talk, but a little cajoling at least got him to smile.

She couldn't remember what had prompted it or who had initiated it, and quite purposely hadn't thought about it in years, but she could certainly remember the kiss now. It had been nothing more than a shy peck — a moment quickly interrupted by Wade's sister walking up to them making gagging noises with every step.

Her first kiss.

Other more recent memories mingled with that long-ago day — the feeling of his hand in hers, his deep blue eyes...

"Oh. Hey."

Mara snapped back into reality at the sound of his voice. Her face burned as she tried to master the confusing emotions surging through her. Thankful for the fading, crimson glow of the sunset that masked her blush, she walked to his side. "You okay?"

He'd turned back toward the water as she approached, once again flipping pebbles into the waves lapping against the shore. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Trying to cover her own tumultuous feelings, Mara flippantly asked, "Didn't we go through this five years ago? Don't make me tickle you again."

His wince stabbed her like a knife. Unable to keep the hurt out of her voice, she said, "Sorry, I'll leave you alone."

He turned before she could leave and said, "Wait. I'm sorry. I just..." He let out a great sigh.

Mara sat down next to him. "What's wrong?"

Wade stared off into the distance where the glow of a lantern against the dark silhouette of the trees across the lake marked the way back to Mara's camp. "I don't want to bother anybody."

"With what?"

He shrugged. "My girlfriend broke up with me about a week before we came up here."

"Join the club." When he looked over with obvious questions in his eyes, Mara summoned up her courage, knowing that the only way to get him to talk would be for her to open up first. "He believed a bunch of stupid rumors and thought I was cheating on him. How about you?"

"I was talking about coming out here, trying to hint that I wanted her to come with me, and she just blew up. She kept going on and on about that stupid lake and how I cared more about it than her. When I told her that I wanted her to come with me, she got even madder, screaming at me about being dirty in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do, and..."

When he trailed off into a sigh, Mara said, "She just doesn't get it. If she couldn't understand why you come out here, then she didn't even try to know you. You're better off without her."

Wade let out a curious half-chuckle, half-grunting sort of sound. "Maybe. We always ended up fighting whenever Dad and I came out here."

Mara's cheeks warmed a little when she realized both how much she'd sounded like her mother trying to console her, and just how similar her situation was to Wade's. Some small, peevish part of her piped up that she had it far harder, because she had to hide the family secret, which made her blush all the more from the selfishness of the thought.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, and Mara started to feel the depression creeping up on her again. Needing a change in subject as much as she suspected that he did, she asked, "I've always wondered why you and your dad don't fish?"

"We don't eat 'em. Not much sense in trying to catch something you aren't going to eat."

"Well, you picked the right lake for it. The fish here must be smarter than the rest or something. They're always getting off the hook before you can reel them in."

Wade chuckled, the sound having some genuine mirth. "Yeah, they're a wily bunch. That's why we always tell people that they're better off fishing across one of the portages."

"You two okay?"

Mara turned to see her mother standing at the head of the beach. "Yeah, Mom. Just trying to out-wallow each other in pity."

Kia smiled and nodded back toward the camp. "Everybody's starting to ask about you."

"We'll come back up in a minute or two."

"Better hurry, the jug is almost empty."

Sharing a worried glance, Mara and Wade both stood up at the same time to make sure that they got a final cup before the wine was gone.

****

Mara fidgeted one last time and peeled back the corner of the sleeping bag draped over her hips. She felt restless, and more than a little irritated by that, as everything she'd ever heard said that drinking alcohol was supposed to have the opposite effect. Her parents were certainly sleeping soundly, cuddled up together in a way that was more than a little creepy for her to think about.

Careful not to wake them or her snoring brother, she slipped out of the tent and walked down to the lake. The moon was up, full and bright, providing more than enough illumination for her to find her way without a flashlight.

The surface of the lake danced with silver flashes, reflecting the light of the moon above. Even though she lived in the country, sheltered by the trees and miles from the bustle of any city or town, there were still sounds that intruded upon nature there. Here, there was nothing to despoil the purity of the wilderness night song.

The feeling of restless energy subsided as she stood looking out over the lake with the sound of lapping waves and chirping crickets for company. Sitting down, she decided to enjoy the night until she felt tired enough to sleep.

She thought that the giggle was her imagination at first. When she didn't hear anything for a minute or two, she passed it off as an effect of the wine and sleepiness, returning to her silent reverie.

Then she heard it again — louder, and more distinct. This time, she turned toward the sound and saw an enormous fish tail break the surface. Her eyes widened and she gasped as it flipped water into the air before slapping against the surface and vanishing once more. The thought of swimming in the lake with such a monster fish started the theme from Jaws playing in her head, and caused her to unconsciously scoot back a few inches.

Alert once more, her eyes scanned the undulating water for any sign of the fish or the ghostly giggling. The initial spike of fear faded away, replaced instead by nagging curiosity. That didn't change when something different popped up amongst the waves out in the lake, a flash of silver that seemed more radiant than reflective. When it vanished, the great tail once again appeared for a moment.

On a whim, Mara quietly called out, "Hello?" No answer greeted her, so she tried again.

This time, a feminine voice responded, "Hello," and then giggled.

Mara turned toward the voice and beheld the source. The woman floated on the surface, her silvery hair sparkling in the moonlight and framing a beautiful, smiling face. Her skin was a pale blue, blending in with the water lapping about her breasts.

"Who are you?" Mara asked, all bemused by the unexpected encounter.

"La'isa," the woman answered, emphasizing the syllables in a musical voice. She swam closer, revealing the fish tail propelling her through the water. "Why do they call you such a strange thing?" she asked when she was closer. Her lips and nipples were pinkish-purple in color, both contrasting and somehow blending in with her blue skin.

Mara knew that the woman was a nymph. She felt the same mixture of innocence, simple wisdom, and capriciousness that made up her great-grandmother's presence. "What do you mean?"

"It is not your name."

Realization dawned on Mara, and she answered, "My real name is Xanmara. They call me Mara when we're around other people."

"Oh," La'isa responded, and then giggled again. She swam up to the shore and lifted herself out of the water. One moment, she had a mermaid tail, and the next, she had normal human legs as she sat down next to Mara. "You are very pretty."

Now it was Mara's turn to giggle. The nymph was so much like her great-grandmother Xantina, who always made her smile. "Thank you. So are you."

"Come swim with me."

Mara started to protest, but then looked out at the lake. It looked so peaceful and inviting — calling out to her on levels that no normal person could have perceived. She nodded, and scooted down toward the water.

La'isa scrunched up her nose and plucked at Mara's t-shirt. "You will get them wet. Take them away."

Though the wilderness was remote and the hour late, that notion was a bit too much for even Mara to consider. If nothing else, Wade was camped just across the lake, and the thought of him wandering down to the lakeshore to see her swimming around nude overwhelmed her natural instinct to obey joyously with the request. "It'll be okay."

The nymph rolled her eyes at Mara — an expression all too common on her great-grandmother's face when the same subject arose — but slipped into the water without further protest. As quickly as it had vanished, La'isa's mermaid tail appeared once again as soon as the nymph had fully submerged her legs.

Mara, raised around her great-grandmother's pool, had learned to swim before she learned to talk, but her form paled next to the nymph, who seemed even more at one with the aquatic environment than even the water-loving Xantina. There was little doubt in Mara's mind that La'isa could have easily vanished in a surge of graceful speed, but she floated along leisurely at Mara's side.

Recognizing that they were headed toward the other side of the lake — although thankfully angling away from the beach that marked Wade's camp — Mara asked, "Where are we going?"

"My place. Come see." With that, the nymph did put on a burst of speed, edging ahead and spinning in the water with a laugh of purest joy.

Mara knew that something was odd as soon as she saw the finger of the lake curling inland. After spending so many years here with her family, she knew that she should have recognized the spot so close to their campsite and Wade's, but she didn't. Slowing to tread water, she muttered, "How..?"

"It hides. It is my place," the nymph answered, wearing a wide smile.

Mara nodded and started swimming again, remembering that her great-grandmother's wood had the same sort of magical ability to turn away people who weren't invited.

As soon as she passed into the curving inlet, Mara saw the fish. Everywhere she looked, pikes and bass breached the surface — some larger than any she'd ever seen before. Even more swam toward them, looming beneath the glittering surface of the water to brush against her legs. La'isa reached out to stroke the scaly side of an impressive pike, greeting it in some unpronounceable language.

Mara suddenly felt great pangs of guilt. "They're your friends. I'm so sorry. We didn't know," she apologized, thinking of how many fish had come from the lake to end up in frying pans within her family's camp.

"It is the way of things. I let them off the pointy things many times, but they know they are only safe here."

That explained the poor fishing on the lake beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Floating amongst the fish darting below, Mara drank in the sights of La'isa's home. The water seemed bluer and the flora along the banks greener even in the color-diluting light of the moon. "It's beautiful."

That prompted yet another giggle. "Thank you. Come."

Mara's eyebrows popped up when she detected just a hint of devious frivolity that she knew all too well. Her great-grandmother had that look and tone just before starting a splash war, or pulling someone into her spring-fed pool. Despite knowing that she was in for a surprise, Mara swam along with the nymph, feeling her smile widen with every kick of her legs.

The curving inlet appeared to open up into a vast, circular pool ahead. La'isa swam closer to shore, and then slipped up onto the bank, legs replacing her tail in the blink of an eye. She waved Mara toward her, pressing a finger against her lips. Obeying the request for silence, Mara climbed out of the water and followed the nymph through the trees.

Because she was concentrating on her footing in the dim light to avoid stepping on anything pointy, Mara almost bumped into the nymph when La'isa stopped and knelt down behind a bush. Mara did the same, and then her mouth dropped wide open when she saw what the nymph was looking at.

Wade was standing in the water with his back turned toward them, the waves lapping against his knees, only thirty or forty feet away — and he was stark naked.

"Isn't he pretty?" La'isa whispered directly into Mara's ear.

Unable to summon up the presence of mind to answer, Mara could only gape at Wade's muscular body as he rubbed his temples and continued toward the opposite bank. His butt muscles bunched with his steps, absolutely hypnotizing Mara with the way they moved. When he spun around and hopped up to sit down on the bank, Mara's legs squeezed together of their own volition, responding to the sharp tingle of wetness that hit her when she saw his cock lying in stunning splendor across his thigh.

Lifting her eyes from the sight, Mara's gaze homed in on his face. His expression was sad and lonely — heart-wrenching. Her eyes misting up, Mara remembered feeling that way when she and her family had to leave after sharing that kiss on the beach with him. She'd cried for hours when she found out that they couldn't return the following year. It wasn't much easier the year after, and it was only that summer when she'd finally started dating, telling herself over and over again that her feelings for Wade were just a crush.

Somewhere deep inside, she'd never believed it.

The nymph whispered into her ear again, "Well?"

Mara snapped back into reality and shrank away from the bush. She continued to back away in a crouch, trembling slightly as a chaotic swirl of emotions overwhelmed her. Unable to think straight, she only knew that she had to get away before he saw her — saw the truth in her eyes that she was fighting so hard to deny.

Feeling that she was far enough away, Mara stood and headed back to where she'd climbed out of the water. La'isa followed, her footfalls utterly silent, and asked, "What's wrong."

Mara sat down on the bank, wincing at even the minuscule sound of her feet slipping into the water. "I... I have to go. I'm sorry," she whispered, unsure if the nymph could even hear the tiny sound.

The swim back to camp felt as if it took an eternity. She prayed to anyone who would listen that Wade wouldn't see her — wouldn't know she had been there. Moving as swiftly and silently as she could manage, she reached the opposite shore and abandoned any semblance of stealth to scurry up into the concealing greenery.

A minute or two later, Mara slipped into her sleeping bag and curled up until she could pull it over her head. Physically and emotionally exhausted, she drifted off into a fitful sleep shortly thereafter.

****

Mara put on a brave face the next morning through breakfast and seeing her extended family off, but she knew that it wasn't completely convincing from the looks of concern that her mother often cast her way.

As soon as the canoes were out of earshot, Mara went straight up the trail to the sunlit hilltop. To her relief, her mother didn't follow.

The tumult in Mara's heart hadn't calmed in the slightest since the night before. There was no more denying that she felt something far more than friendship for Wade. She'd known it five years ago when she kissed him — if in a naive, girlish sort of way — and she knew it now with acute clarity.

It was too much to bear.

It was too soon after having her life pulled out from under her to deal with even the thought of a relationship burdened by the necessity of the family secret. The man whom she'd spent the last two years with — and given her virginity to — had left her with hate and anger burning in his eyes equal to the love and desire that once smoldered there.

She felt betrayed by her heart for opening up to someone now, when she was so vulnerable and lost. On top of that, Wade was beyond geographically undesirable. How could she have fallen in love with someone who lived so far away? Hadn't she learned her lesson last time about how much it hurt?

Fallen in love. The words burned in her brain like an accusation. The attraction was more — far more — than physical, but it was seeing him nude, so magnificent and perfect, that had torn down the protective walls she'd built around her heart. Even now, she had butterflies in her stomach and felt her body responding to the memory before she could push it away.

"Mara — honey, Wade's here."

Startled by her mother's voice breaking through the storm of emotions tossing her mercilessly to and fro, Mara panicked. "Tell him I'm sick," she blurted out.

"Honey, what..."

"Please, Mom," Mara pleaded, two great tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Okay. Your father and I were going to go out on the lake today, but if you need me to stay..."

Mara shook her head vigorously. "No. Just go."

"Glen's off with some boys he met the day before yesterday, and I doubt he'll be back before nightfall. We'll have the radio. Just call if you need us. I love you."