Lake Tahoe

It began the day Tanuja dove after the dog into Lake Tahoe.

Nothing dramatic happened. Tanuja held Yogi’s collar and did a survival backstroke with her other three limbs until the boat doubled back for them. Lucky for her, Dad had made her learn it during their annual summer trips to Tahoe and reminded her every year before she was allowed to cannonball into the water. Also lucky for her, she had her life vest on.

The current wasn’t strong that day, but her teeth chattered. Tanuja hummed to herself, both as a comfort and to soothe Yogi, who was starting to squirm. Something crackled in her ear like the walkie talkies she Alina used to talk before their parents would allow them pink Motorola Razrs.

Then the boat was pulling up beside them, spraying them with foam. She passed Yogi up and allowed Jun and Neal to haul her up. Her soaked clothes seemed to have doubled her weight. Alina wrapped a blanket around her. Jun wrapped his arms around her. The pitbull was still shivering but Neal soothed him in quiet tones.

“You got quite a pair,” Jun said, half-admiringly, half-enviously.

“I got a steel vagina,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

He mimed bowing to her.

That was the most exciting part of the day by far. They returned to their hotel. Tanuja got cleaned up—and heard some more crackling in the shower. Maybe the water had gotten into her eardrums? Was that even possible?—and they went to dinner at a lakefront hotel where her friends made her sound like Odysseus.

In reality, she had reacted without thinking. As someone who had grown up with the lake, Tanuja trusted it. She was excited to be here, and even more excited to share it with Jun.

*/*/*

The next morning, the event was more-or-less forgotten, except as a running joke. Yogi was secured to the boat with very little leash purchase, and he looked out over the water, panting and wagging his tail.

And then Tanuja fell in again.

It was different this time. Neal turned the boat too sharply, pitching her off the side. It felt like the water rose, coiled around her, and dragged her in.

Back to the survivor backstroke. The water was choppier today and sloshed over her, even as she faced the sky again. Kelp tried to tangle around her ankles, but she shook it off. She hummed again. The billowing of her hair and clothes reminded her of Ophelia in the river, but she shook off the thought too. How ironic would it be if the lake that was her second home stole her life? 

The relationship was still new, and Tanuja was looking forward to seeing where it was going. It wouldn’t do if she succumbed to a cold lake on their first trip together. Plus, she really liked his dog.

There was that crackling again. A little wave broke over her, momentarily thrusting her downward. Voices. They were whispering but she came up gasping for air. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.

As the boat approached, she did something Dad would have been furious with and ducked her head underneath. The whispers were urgent, many voices rising over each other. But in the end, before a hand closed around her arm and yanked her to the surface, she made out just one phrase: “Help.”

“I know you like to swim, but 40-degree water is not it,” Alina joked after they had Tanuja back in the boat.

She only managed a half-hearted smile.

Alina and Neal exchanged a concerned glance.

“How about this,” said Jun, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. “We won’t come out on the lake tomorrow.”

“No,” Tanuja said, surprising herself as much as them. “Let’s come back.”

She knew she was noticeably quiet the rest of the day. Though she wanted to say something and put their minds at ease, she was tired.

It didn’t help that Tanuja kept hearing the whispers now. She heard them when she washed her hands and brushed her teeth. She heard them when Alina uncapped her water bottle. She heard them the loudest when she sank into a hot bubble bath that night. Like before, the only word she could distinguish was: “Help.” The word filled her ears, so it was like being underwater, and the voices of her friends sounded so far away.

Alina gave her a hug with an extra squeeze when they went to their separate rooms. But Tanuja couldn’t sleep. The curtains turned the moonlight blue. She lay in bed, listening to Jun’s steady breathing and felt Yogi’s weight partially on her feet.

After a moment’s thought, she slipped out of bed. Yogi lifted his head and whined. She set a hand on his head as she passed to tug open the heavy door. Yogi padded behind her.

“Go back,” she told him, but he just cocked his head and wagged his tail at her. “Fine, come on then.”

It was only when the wintry night air gusted against her that she realized she’d come outside in pajamas and house slippers without even grabbing her coat. Her flesh rose in protest against the cold, and her breath painted the air in front of her, but she kept going until she reached the edge of the lake.

There were footprints in the snow on the dock. In the darkness, it looked like they reached the water and never came back.

Tanuja followed the footprints to the end and sat with her legs folded beneath her, ignoring the snow soaking through her pajama pants. The water was both still and loud, the voices anxious and eager. She looked past her reflection and reached out, adjusting to lie on her stomach until her fingertip could touch the water.

It wasn’t just voices anymore. Desperate sadness sank into her heart. The lake sang of despair. It cried for her. It wanted her love, her essence, her lifeblood. It didn’t just want them—it needed them.

She wanted to give it what it needed and stretched her arm out as far as it would go—

A tug brought her back. She craned her neck around to see Yogi with his teeth clamped on her pajama top, trying to tug her back.

“You’re right,” she told him, rising to her feet and walking back with him.

She didn’t feel cold or wet anymore. When she got back to her room, she was able to fall asleep with her arm draped across Jun’s waist. It was her turn to be the big spoon.

*/*/*

In the morning, they kept asking Tanuja if she was absolutely, positively sure she wanted to get back on the water. She told them she was and lugged a packed picnic basket with her, refusing when Jun tried to take it from her.

The current was excited today, not desperate and frightened like yesterday.

Tanuja talked and joked with her friends. She kissed Jun. She tussled with Yogi.

“We have an announcement,” Alina said, holding Neal with one hand and patting her belly with the other. “We wanted you to be the first to know.”

Tanuja shrieked and hugged Alina, patting mini-Alina/Neal. 

“I thought you were glowing extra bright lately,” she said.

When they reached what Tanuja intuitively knew was the center of the lake, she asked Neal to cut the engine. There was only the sound of the wind and birds overhead.

“A toast,” Tanuja said, bringing out sparkling cider because she’d promised Dad she would never drink while out on the lake and because now Alina couldn’t drink. “Congratulations, to the both of you. You’re going to be the best parents a kid could have. Just...don’t be mad if your kid goes to Stanford.”

They laughed and made faces at the mention of Stanford, as any good Cal alum should.

Her voice caught. The whispers had been quiet since last night. They were waiting patiently now.

“I wish I could be there to meet baby Alina--or Neal.” She gave Alina’s belly a wistful smile.

Alina’s expression grew alarmed. “What are you talking about?” She nudged Neal. “See, I knew something was wrong.”

“It isn’t,” Tanuja said, squeezing Alina’s hands before pulling her and Neal into a hug.

She dropped to her knees in front of Yogi. He licked her cheek.

“It’s been a joy getting to know you,” she told Jun, pressing her lips to his.

“Hold on—” he said, but she was already turning and pressing her hand to the water.

Before they could even grab for her, Tanuja dissolved. She wasn’t drowned. She was still there. Every atom of her being was reconstructed and rearranged, her consciousness joining the chorus of voices that had sought her out.