Now Take Me, Oh Lord
They had both gotten stuck in the mud and both fallen on their faces in the mud while trying to pull free. Then they laughed so hard at each other that they got stuck and fell in again.
"Oh Lord!" cried Betty. "Oh Lord! I wish I had a picture!"
"I'm glad I didn't bring my camera," Noah replied.
Some swimming just under the surface in the shallow saltwater channels of the marsh and they were recognizable again. The laughter had tired them out. They stared at each other and then smiled at each other and then fell to laughing again.
"Now take me, Oh Lord, now take me! 'Cause I'll never feel this good again!"
Noah loved Betty's exuberance but felt a little out-paced at the same time. His sense of where they were had come back strongly, as if chasing his humor away. He felt the slight current against him, and though slight he could feel the power behind it that could sweep him away. He realized he really wished he had brought his camera. The blue water divvied up by the narrow banks of marsh grass in its winsome fall colors cried out for him to have brought his camera.
"You've gotten serious again," said Betty. "Okay. That's all right. But can we hold hands while we wade, so I don't start to feel like I'm all by myself? I was having so much fun."
"You're shivering," said Noah. "I think we better get back to the house and get some dry clothes on and get warm."
"Okay," Betty agreed, grudgingly and so with a little fake pout. "Okay. But you have to promise me you'll never forget how good we felt today."
"I promise," said Noah. He knew he would probably forget, but he said it anyway. When Betty was with him and smiling, he would say almost anything to keep it that way.
He felt again the power of the sea. Even reduced as it was here in the marsh, it had a hold on him like time, like aging, irresistible, somehow heart-breaking.
"I won't! I will never forget!"
Betty's hand tightened in his. His lie lay as light on his conscience as the gull feather floating by his knee.
It was a quiet afternoon in the village. The wind was light, the surf soft, the cars home, the deer out again foraging among the houses. The bell buoy offshore tolled in a diminished way, more like a toastmaster tapping a glass than a warning.
14 November 2024
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca