I was recently introduced to Johnnie at a family reunion in Opelika, we’re cousins. Our mothers are sisters. Mine, mall-shopping, Mercedes-driving, latte-sipping, and beautiful. His, cow-milking, horseback-riding, corn-shucking, also beautiful.
I’d never been to Alabama, raised near the beaches of San Francisco, across the bay from Alcatraz, where my father was supposedly serving life – another lie mom told me.
I talked to dad daily on the burner phone he sent me, never thinking to ask for a photo.
Divorced twice, mom took a modelling gig in Paris, no kids allowed. So, she left me here… in… Bama country… heard that constantly, but the people were nice.
“If we swim through that circle, we’ll be lost forever.” Johnnie said, pointing towards the bridge and its reflection.
“Is that a fact?” I said, removing my socks, and shoes. I tucked my cellphone beneath my waistband in a water-proof pouch.
“You ain’t gonna do it!” Johnnie said, sweat beads formed on his forehead, shaking his hands, he begged me not to.
“One shalln’t fear anything but fear itself.” I said, tossing a smelly sock in his face.
Branches crackled, a bird called, and a rock skipped thrice across the water – all planned.
“Signs from God.” I said, diving into the lake.
“Warren!” Johnnie yelled.
I swam fast, underwater, through the ‘circle’ until hidden. My father maneuvered the shore concealed by a thick tree line. He pulled me from the current, carrying me to a car as we’d discussed.
“Never break a promise.” My father said.
My phone began to ring – DAD CALLING.
The man smirked, tightened his grip on me, and covered my mouth with his hand.
“Johnnie!” I screamed – unheard.
Johnnie would tell the story for years to come, how his cousin was swallowed up by an Alabamian subaquatic world.
Leesa Writes 