The Mannequin in the Lake

Johnny and Sally didn’t believe me when I told them the mannequin in the water had saved me from drowning. Well, something had pulled me down, and I suspected it had been her, but I didn’t mention that part to my friends. Instead, I pointed to the exact spot where I believed she’d pulled me up from the rough Lake Michigan water. They laughed out loud. 

“It’s true. Her arms swayed forward and back. I swear.” I motioned with my arms the same way the mannequin had done so. The marshmallow that was supposed to be for my s’more slipped out of my fingers. Sand covered my piece. For God’s sake, I’d been looking forward to making them with my buddy and his girl.

Sally guffawed. “You’re so stupid, you know that? Plus, if you would’ve gotten more practice in class, you wouldn’t have almost drowned.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here with your stupid asses,” I said, glowering at Johnny, who’d had the bright idea of skipping school. Just because he’d said, but I knew why. Because of her. Johnny had skipped school so many times, that the teachers probably didn’t even care to find out where he was. Me, though, this was only my second time; the first time was just a few days ago, the day the mannequin had saved me.

I hurled the marshmallow into the water and watched as it floated away. But when the tip of a mannequin’s fingers sprang out of the water and took my piece in, a shiver ran down from the top of my head to the end of my toes.

“Did you guys see that?”

“Bro, here.” Johnny split his s’more in half, the gooey center stretching like fresh, out of the deep fryer mozzarella sticks. 

My buddy Johnny and I had been friends for four years now. Since first grade. My only friend. All the other kids sided with him always, but when I tried talking to them, they’d ignore me. Yes, I longed for more friends, and, yes, I felt a little jealous of Johnny’s charisma, but I knew I was lucky to have Johnny in my life. My only friend.

I helped him with his schoolwork, and he got me out of trouble. Always took the blame, no matter what shenanigans we got into. And this time was no exception; he had a fake doctor’s note ready for us, and if the teachers and parents found out it was fake, he’d say he’d planned it all.

Sally, though, we’d just met her this year, in fifth grade. The moment I laid eyes on her, my heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. Little hearts formed around her head, just like in the cartoons. But just as quick as I’d fallen for her, she took a liking to Johnny, and they hit it off. And she often rolled her eyes at me.

At the end of the pier that was yards and yards away, water splashed. I squinted to get a good look. Figured something had been thrown into the water and washed ashore, for it was usually like that; guests came to the lake, swam, held parties, music blasted at full volume, and instead of taking care of the lake that provided them with the best Saturday and Sunday parties and cookouts, they littered the water and the sand. Even the junkies left their pills and needles scattered their poison, which became a scavenger hunt for the other junkies and beach cleanup crew.

I took a few steps away from Johnny and Sally, then turned to tell them I’d be back, that I wanted to see what was at the pier, but Johnny and Sally began to make out. They kissed as fake as the telenovela actors my mother watched every evening from six to nine, and she ignored me those three hours. In fact, I was on my own most of the time, whether she was home or not. She either worked, watched TV, or locked herself in her bedroom.

When I arrived at the pier, I made my way under the boardwalk. The clouds that had gathered darkened the under-pier, but I could still make out the figures that stood still. It was like they’d met for a secret meeting, and I’d just discovered them.

“Hi,” my voice said, struggling to get that one word out. Not one of them minded me. But I could hear their whispers. I inched closer. Their whispers stopped.

At the end of the under-pier, where the water and sand met, there she was, my mannequin, my savior.

I went to her, avoiding the still figures, but as I neared them, a harsh gust of wind pushed me down to the sand, close to them.

“Push,” I heard them whisper. “Water,” they continued.

My breathing increased at the thought of these lifeless models somehow communicating. I looked up at them. The figures had their heads turned to me. How? I had no clue. They had no eyes. No mouths. In fact, there was nothing on them but the head, arms, legs, and torso that made them up. Naked. Motionless. And though they weren’t looking at me directly, their gaze was fixed on me.

I pushed myself up and walked backward, away from them, away to the light past the under-pier. But before my body touched the light, one of them blocked me. It was her. I knew it. There was a connection between us.

I turned to her. The arm that had stopped me remained up in the air.

“Bring,” they said, and I turned to them. No realizing when, she pushed me, and, again, I was down. Sand kicked in my face. No idea which of them had done it because when I looked up, they remained still. Now, they were closer. How many were they? Nine, perhaps. Ten, if you counted her behind me.

Where was Johnny? Sally? Still making out?

“Friend.” “Forever.” “Us.” “Never leave.”

They had a cult-is demeanor about them. When they spoke, it was chant-like. But like they were speaking to me.

“Water,” she said behind me. “Lake.”

“What? You want me to go into the water?”

“Us.” “Forever.” “Friend.”

Were they recruiting me?

“I can’t,” I cried. The sand that covered my hand scratched my eyes. “My mom, she’ll get worried. My friends, they’ll come looking for me soon.”

“She hate,” one of them whispered. Who? My mom? Sally?

“He lost,” another one said.

Johnny? Had I lost my friend to her?

“We friends.”

The one behind me tugged at my shirt, her hand already pointed at the water.

I turned to my friends. For a moment, it looked like Johnny had noticed me, and locked eyes with me. Then, Sally turned his face away, to hers. Whether she hated me or disliked me, what was true was that she didn’t consider me her friend. She was all about Johnny.

I turned to the mannequins under the pier. There were eight now, plus she who had saved me still behind me. The one missing was now in the lake, its torso above the water, its arms extended, ready to receive me.

“Friends forever,” I whispered.