“Shoes off and pants rolled up! We’re going to get you in tune with the lake. Good stone skipping is not just about the stone. It’s about the water, and it’s about you. So, off with your shoes!”
“It’s cold!” I protest.
“Baby,” he teases as he starts removing his shoes.
“Am not. I’m showing a measure of sanity.” The irony that I am saying this is not lost on me.
“There’s nothing good to be said about sanity. It’s dull. Live a little. Come on.”
I try not to smile back as he arches his dark eyebrows playfully.
“Fine,” I say, kicking off my sneakers and rolling up my jeans. “To prove I’m not a baby.”
“In we go.” Chris wades a few feet into the water and turns back to me. “It’s really not cold. Promise.” He holds out his hand. “Really.”
I step forward into the cool water, and the soles of my feet sink into the grainy sand. It’s a striking feeling, one I’ve avoided on purpose for the past four years. Without really thinking, I place my hand into his. My eyes close, and I feel him tighten his fingers around mine. The dark world in my head begins to break into pieces, and flashes of old, forgotten memories break through. I find that I am taking quick, shallow breaths.Stop it. Stop it!I instruct myself. I focus on my hand in his, feeling his steady and solid grip. The flashes burst apart as I open my eyes and speak too quickly, hoping to recover from the moment, hoping to cover up my lapse. “You’re right. The water isn’t so bad.”
Chris cocks his head to the side. “You okay?” He squeezes my hand.
I nod. “Yes. I am now.”
He studies me, more serious now. “Do we know…” He can’t seem to finish his question.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “No, we haven’t met before. It’s just… Nothing.” He slips a smooth stone onto my palm and closes my fingers around it for me. “Show me.” Chris steps back.
The water splashes gently around my ankles as I position my body perpendicular to the line of the water. “Now don’t laugh at me. It’s been a while since I have even attempted this.”
“There is no laughing in stone skipping,” he says, clearly dramatizing his voice for effect. “This is a very, very somber activity. You may now proceed with your first attempt.”
I try not to smile at his mock formality as I keep my arm level and fling the stone over the water. It veers off fifteen feet to the right and then shoots through the surface of the water like a bullet.
“Well,” Chris says, “what you lack in skill, you make up for with sheer force.”
I laugh. “That did not go as I might have hoped, but I appreciate your tact.”
“Do a few more. I’ll back up in case things go really awry.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Although that’s not a bad idea…” I can feel him watching me as I try three more times, managing to get only one stone to produce a sloppy skip. “I’m hopeless, I think.”
“No, you’re not. Why do you throw like you’re a little kid tossing a Frisbee?”
I can’t help but laugh again. “Is that what I look like?”
“Well, you sort of throw your arm across your body like this.” He smiles and flings his arm out wildly. “See? That’s no good.”
“Aha. I didn’t realize.” I think for a second. He is right. As intently as I was watching him before, I hadn’t noticed that he doesn’t do this.
“Here, try it a different way.” Chris moves in and stands behind me. “I see you’re right-handed, so you’ll want to turn the other way so that your throwing hand is away from the water.” His hands touch the top of my arms as he slowly pivots me around, coming to stand so close to me that our shadows become one. As he steps away, his shadow emerges from mine until it is distinct on the sandy ground. I turn to focus and throw my smooth stone.
“It feels awkward,” I confess.
“Sure, at first. We’re breaking a bad habit. Try again. Let’s wade in a bit more. It sounds corny, but you have to sort of unite with the water.”
I sigh, doubtful I can do this, but I sidestep a few feet until I feel the water hit the rim of my jeans. I give another attempt.
“Better!” Chris says. “You got two skips. Do another.”
