To Embark

It was the evening before I was to be taken off to that great university. The university that I had written hundreds of thousands of essays and applications for and taken so many standardized tests for. It was time. I stood alone on my grandparents’ porch, watching the sun descend below the treetops as dusk settled in on the small, lonely valley surrounded by towering pines on all sides.

At the sight of the dying sun, the crickets began their rhythmic, chirping overture. A cool night breeze swept in and tore through the sticky, summer air. I could feel the chilly wind whirl around me as the young, hot summer broke, submitting finally to the encroaching autumn. I thought of the forest around me. I thought about how the green, grassy floor would soon be muddy and covered with death and decay as the withered leaves sailed away from the naked tree tops. I thought about how the clean, fresh summer aura that now inhabited those woods would soon be fading like a phantom in the darkness as fall and eventually winter seized the flourishing forest, stripping and battering it into desolation.

I opened the screen door of the porch, listening carefully to the reliable, constant creaking of the weary hinge that I had come to know so well. I walked out onto the lawn looking upward where glowing amber brush-strokes scraped against the cool, dark canvas of the evening sky. The sun had fallen far behind the trees by now, and only its waning rays could be seen shimmering against the thin, suspended clouds. I looked back at my grandparents’ enormous cabin where I had spent so many summers like this one. I turned and looked around at the patchy yard where I had played when I was a child. Nana always used to tell me that this lawn was where I’d taken my first steps.

I walked on a little farther, nearing the dark wood line. I looked back at the cabin once more. I could see the lights glowing in the large, open windows. I could see my grandparents in the living room, resting in silence on the couch and watching their “shows.” I could see their faces, both very still with set mouths. Their weary eyes, sunken deep in their wrinkled, tanned expressions seemed to say, "I want something more." I looked up at the sky again. The amber glow on the clouds was gone now, leaving only a smoky, violet cluster hanging lazily in the deep, darkening sky. Night had come, but the evening was fair, and I would not be turned. It was my last chance to make it out to the lake.

I entered into the dark woods, feeling the smell of sticky pine sap and the roaring concert of crickets envelop me. I was part of it now.

I stumbled along, feeling the pine needles slide and crunch beneath my sneakers. I came to a clearing where patches of moonlight penetrated the leafy canopies above and illuminated the forest floor. In the center of the clearing I noticed two small walls on both sides constructed of limestone pebbles and bricks. This is where my friends and I used to play forts. I walked over to the wall I remembered as my own. I knew which wall was mine because my wall had been constructed much better than the other wall because I had stolen a large quantity of bricks from my Pawpaw’s barn when I had made it. I was surprised to see it still standing; after all, it had been several years since I’d come to this spot. I knelt down beside the wall, feeling the old, weathered red bricks. Something was hidden beside the wall. I reached down to see what it was. It was my old G.I. Joe doll. I couldn’t believe it! He was covered in leaves, his old green uniform had now faded to a beige color. I picked him up and examined him. Holding his 12” poseable frame in my hands, I thought of all the great campaigns we had led together. I thought of the boys and all the wars we had waged with each other. They were all gone now, grown up and shipped off to their respective colleges. But not Joe here. Joe was a good soldier. I picked the doll up and carried him with me through the woods.

We came at last to the great lake, one I was very familiar with. The moonlight danced on the water’s glassy surface and tall trees of the deep forest devoured the horizon, pushing against the starlit sky. I had been at this spot only a month before with Jean. She and I walked together on a night very much like this one. We came out to this lake with a quilt and we talked for a while about things. We spoke of dumb things. We pretended that the inevitable wasn’t really there. I remember I was nervous, and so very sad. She was going off to a summer internship at her college that was supposed to help her get ahead somehow. She talked very excitedly of it. I looked over at her face now. She was very beautiful, and I loved her very much at that moment. I wanted to say some things to her. I wanted to say, “Why won’t you just stay? Everyone else is leaving! Why does everyone want to get out of here so bad? We could just stay, just you and me and it could be great!” I wanted to say that, but I didn’t. Because that would’ve been selfish, wouldn’t it?

She was gone now. We never said it, but I think we both knew that that was it. I still think of her sometimes. Now I was standing by the lake again, with Joe waiting patiently in my hand. I looked out at the water, the moon glowing and shining in the calm, mirror surface.

There was a boat by the water’s edge tied to a stump. My Pawpaw and I had placed it here a long time ago for when we could go fishing together. I remembered going out with him, casting out lines for hours and hours in the hot sun. Sometimes we caught a lot. Sometimes we caught very little. It was nice though, just spending time together. He seemed really happy when we went together. I missed it a lot, actually.

Joe and I got into the boat and I rowed out. We reached the middle of the lake, and I looked over the side of boat into the murky depths. I could see nothing, just particles floating in a great infinity of darkness. I looked at Joe’s brave, smiling face as I held him with both hands. I kissed his forehead and took a deep breath. I stood up and hurled Joe into the cold, dark water. He made a loud splash as his tiny body cut the water’s surface and sunk down into the darkness and out of sight.

The lake grew quiet again and I stood in the tilting boat watching where I had thrown Joe. I could no longer see him, and I don’t know exactly where he landed, but the ripples in his wake seemed to go on forever, spreading out infinitely from his great epicenter toward every shoreline.