He can’t be serious. He’s leaning back in his canoe, sliding his Kindle reader onto the deck before coming back my way. I dunk my bucket in the water, coming up with a very full dose of ammo that I need both arms and a forceful grunt to lift.
‘You asked for it!’ I shout as I push the bucket so all the water smacks both Rod and his canoe.
He is soaked. He just laughs in disbelief, hair dripping down the front of his face. His toned muscles glisten with a sheen of water owing to my attack. Okay, so I’m not opposed to this game at all. ‘Nice shot,’ he manages.
‘Your turn.’ I toss the bucket to the back of my canoe. ‘Give me one thing about yourself, and you can get me back.’
‘Shit.’ Rod pushes his wet hair off his forehead. He closes his eyes in thought. ‘Uh … I think the Kindle gave it away. But I really love to read. I have for a long time. I majored in English in college.’
‘English?’ I echo. I definitely don’t know a smidge about him.
He nods. ‘I’m doing my master’s in education. I wanna teach it. Lang and comp.’
‘You know what? All due honesty. From what I’ve seen so far, that tracks. The teaching bit,’ I tell him. ‘The English, I didn’t see coming.’
‘What, did you think I was in finance or something?’ he cackles as he fills up his bucket. Oh, great. Here it comes.
‘Well, isn’t Colt—’
In one fell swoop, a wall of water crashes over me, and my boat tips dangerously. ‘That was extra!’ I insist through a mouthful of water. ‘That was so extra, Rod!’
‘For the English thing,’ he quips, taking a dramatic bow. ‘It’s the game! You’re next.’
I harrumph a little, but I can’t be all too mad. An English teacher. In no realm of thought would I ever have conceived of that being his life’s work: the English language. I guess I can give him another little fun fact.
‘I only ever wore one pair of socks when I was on the broncs.’
Rod blinks a moment, and then his cheeks puff out, and he bursts into laughter. ‘What?’
‘Stop it!’ I give his canoe a little push, and he just goes on cackling. ‘It was a green pair. They were lucky, I’ll have you know. Every time I wore them, I always lasted the eight seconds.’
‘You know, that’s the one thing I still can’t believe.’ Rod sits back with a sigh and gently anchors himself with a hand to the corner of my canoe. The aggressive lapping of the water slows as he meets my eyes. ‘What’d you call it, saddle bronc?’
I nod. ‘Rough stock.’
He smiles a bit, but still with an air of inquisition. ‘Why?’
‘What, why?’
‘You were playing lacrosse, right? I don’t think I gotta tell you how fast things can go south if you sustain an injury.’
I hum. His words are familiar, and they pluck at a part of my chest I’ve held tight to for a while. My mother would say the same thing. Struggle to understand why both. ‘I guess I could say it’s cool,’ I reply as I run over the next sentence in myhead, ‘but I think it was because I liked the risk. It kind of felt the way being here does.’ The water suddenly feels way more still than it had been before. I’m not sure if I love how quiet things have become, but Rod listens intently. ‘I used to feel untethered when I was up there, even though I was hanging on for dear life.’
I break the silence with a wary chuckle, and Rod, bless him, does the same. ‘That does make sense,’ he says. ‘But I hope you know I can’t dump a bucket of water in your canoe for that.’
A wet wave of hair falls in front of his face as he passes his bucket my way, big brown eyes locking on mine. ‘Go ahead.’
‘This feels like cheating—’
‘What if …?’ He looks up in thought, then back at me with a grin that could light up a pitch-dark room. And then the menace reaches over and rocks my boat – literally – so hard I think I’m going to tumble right out.
‘Oh, you and your …’ That’s enough for me to retaliate. I come in hot with the next bucket of water.
With a yelp, Rod reaches for his own bucket. ‘Is this war? Are you going to war with me right now?’
‘You invited this. And no. This is worse than war.’ I grab the front of his canoe and, with a modicum of effort, am able to pull it towards me. He drops the dumb paint bucket, eyes wide, as I clamber into his canoe and push mine away. ‘It’s a coup.’
‘Not afraid of “large bodies of water” any more?’ Rod’s confusion breaks into a grin, and he chucks the bucket to the side, into the pool.
