Silver Fish

A silver fish, lean and thin, slithered through the water in front of us, disappearing under its inky cover.

The water lapped at our feet gently, retreating and leaving marks over the rocky sand. It was no picture-perfect ocean beach, but the lake still expanded as far as we could see that evening. The huckleberry sunset drifted through milky pinks and oranges, before exploding in a flame-colored, mahogany red tone that set an impressive final display before disappearing behind pilling clouds and silhouetting hills.

Nothing had changed in the past 50 years, not anything we could see. Maybe our eyesight had dulled and our hands had leaned, but the colors and rare beauties that were scattered around our surreal, hidden treasure- the lake- never died. They came back, always came back, more vivid than before.

The water stained rocks remained the same. The crag-covered hills and mountains that guarded the edges of the lake remained the same. The water, a deep cerulean blue and teal that altered its face depending on the mood of the sky, remained resolutely the same.

My hands traced the water in circles, the exposed skin under my wrists numb to the cold. The slapping sounds of dark water sliding and spraying against the rocks of the bay were but only one of several notes in our frail ears. The sounds around us slid through our brains and our memory; the melodious creaking of underwater chains that groaned and shuffled against the sandy floor, or the distant call of crows underneath the moon's shiny veil.

There were all too many scents and scenes that influenced the bouts of nostalgia in my heart, so I would drown them out like the water around me. I leaned my head over on my silent companion's shoulder. She leaned hers on mine, and I could tell she felt the exact same way. I reached up and laced a curly tendril of white hair through the tips of my fingers, trailing it around in lazy circles. Her shoulder trembled lightly with a silent laugh at my actions, but she stayed just as quiet as I was. Both of us were waiting, but not in anticipation. We were waiting in peace, within the water that held so much love. So much aged joy was embedded in our hearts, from the past and now clung to as we made our way into the future.

She sniffled before I did. My sister placed her hand gently on mine, lowering my hand with a brief clearing of her throat. I waited for her to speak but she cried instead, a droplet of water landing on my arm, so faint that I half suspected it to just be a small part of the lake beneath us.

The significance of that moment was hard to grasp. For both of us, there was a small chance- only minuscule, but still there, like a shadow casted over our shoulders- that that could be our final year at the lake. Maybe in some foreign land above we'd be able to place ourselves upon its beauty, but never with our physical presence.

“Laine, when do you figure she’ll arrive?” I asked in anticipation of another. Laine sighed gently, brushing her hair over her shoulders. She repositioned herself in the shallow water, sand stuck to the bottom of her thighs, her jean shorts dyed a dark, damp blue.

I wiped a warm tear from my cheek before she spoke. 

“She told me she'd be down in a minute. She was putting on a swimsuit.”

I glance up to the house upon the hill, humble and small and illuminated by a single light inside the frosty and clouded bathroom window. No wonder she was taking so long. I chuckled quietly, and Laine dropped her head on my shoulder in defeat. Now it was my time to comfort her.

Both of us sat like that for another ten minutes as the dark slowly lifted around us while the moon seemed to brighten. When neither of us wanted to wait any longer, the creaking of lakeside steps brought our focus back to reality. 

She was thirty years younger than us and practically golden. Youth radiated from her features, visible in the shine of her blue eyes as she smiled that illuminating smile that included all her teeth. She looked like we used to look, I realized. With her golden hair, ablaze and freed in the humid air. I felt Laine straighten beside me, like the sight of her had given some bout of joyful energy to her composure. I couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Sorry I took so long- I couldn’t help myself!” She giggled, wrapping her hair up into a bun. She bounced over to us, lean and tall, just like…

Just like her.

She looked identical to her.

Laine thought it, too. She reached for the necklace around her neck, one we both had; a single silver fish dangling from tiny white rhinestones. It hung with a lightness that suggested it was hollow, but both of us knew there was more than one would assume. The essence of someone else who had once stood here, within us and the lake. I felt another one of Laine’s tears land on my shoulder but she quickly composed herself and stood to hug Delilah. The two of them embraced, and I could tell that the moment meant more and held a deeper meaning than Delilah realized. I stood, too, brushing tiny rivulets of watery sand from my legs and holding both on to both of the girls with a strength in my arms I had forgotten I possessed.

“Welcome to the lake.” I smiled, pulling back. Delilah laughed, grinning, animated in the way she beamed with tenderness for both of us.

“You mean welcome back?” Asked Laine, breaking away from Delilah as well.

“Of course- welcome back.” I fixed, lips upturned in a gentle smile. 

Delilah gave the water a once over, eyes catching on the reflection of the moon casted over its milky surface.. “It’s only been a few years. I’m sorry I couldn't visit sooner, I've just been so busy with…” her voice trails off, the heavy weight of someone else’s name unable to roll from her tongue. Laine caught my eye. Delilah shared our pain now; she always had.

We all made our way back to the water, but me and Laine ended up sitting on the rocks beside it. They were warm despite the evening chill, touched by the physical memory of the sun only four hours ago. 

We held hands as we watch Delilah wade into the water, squealing with delight. Laine squeezes my hand. We used to be her, exactly as she was, screaming in the chill waves and shoving each other under with powerful arms.

Delilah dived under and splashed out, sending water in our direction. The moonlight casted pearly shadows over her soft and beautiful face, so much like ours. I couldn't get over the resemblance. I never would.

As the trees shifted and the water rippled around us, the four of us shared the beauty of the lake together. One daughter, immersed in the undying love of her two beautiful aunts. And three sisters; two who sat upon the shore and one who watched from beneath with fondness in her freeing spirit.

Delilah squealed as a long, silver fish darted between her legs.