There’s Always a Calm Before the Storm

The whorls in the wood of the dock felt good underneath Alexa’s tracing fingers. The warmth from the sun soaked planks was soothing against her cheek. She sighed softly. She could lie here forever. She wished she could press herself hard enough into the wood that she would become a part of the dock, an eternal observer of the ever-changing ripples of the lake’s surface. She could be the keeper of the myriad of stories told through the many feet that trampled the swollen, damp wood. She could smell a thousand summers, a million laughs, a few “don’t you dare!”‘s, and a scattering of tears. This dock saw the first floundering attempts at swimming, it saw new friendships, and old friendships that could never be broken. It saw first love, the loss of innocence, the tears of a broken heart. Alexa was sure that if she tried to internalize all the emotions this dock had seen she would explode. She sat up curling her legs underneath her. On the edges of the mountain perched thick, heavy clouds. They looked desperate and greedy. Alexa didn’t want to go back to her two bedroom apartment in New York. She didn’t want to go back to her under-paid job as the most junior columnist for a small time paper. She didn’t want to go back to a boyfriend who was so busy she often didn’t hear from him for days. In New York no one listened. She didn’t matter. Here, everything listened. Here if she cried the world would hold her close; it wasn’t too busy to let her know it cared. The waves under the dock crested and spattered through the gaps in the planks. The clouds enveloped the sky. Engorged and bruised they hung over Alexa, a panther ready to pounce, flexing their supple hindquarters. She closed her eyes and rested her chin on her knees. The sound of the waves sucking against the pebbles on the beach nestled its way into her mind. She imagined it sucking the poisonous feelings of doubt and regret out of the deepest corners of her heart. The rain came down pressing itself against her skin. It wasn’t tentative, it didn’t ask for permission, it didn’t ask for forgiveness. Alexa pulled her wet hair back from her face. She glared at the FOR SALE sign imbedded into the ground near the dock house. She’d never wanted to kick anything more in her life. She walked up to and curled her fingers around the slick, cold metal. Alexa ripped the sign from the ground, the wounded earth giving it up with a gasp. She ran to the end of the dock and threw the sign. She grabbed the diving board to keep from toppling into the water. She watched the sign fly into the storm. She watched it hit the aggravated surface of the lake. She watched as the lake, with sinful glee, pulled the sign deep into its belly. Alexa laid down on the dock. She let the storm wash her away. She laid there until there was nothing left, except the smell of wet stone and wood.