Superior, Page 2

I supposed to do?”

  “Fight for what’s yours. Are you a man or a doormat, Stan? I’m nobody’s doormat, I can promise you that.”

  Stan watched as Butch and Marie raced out into the waves. “Jada,” Stan said, taking her by the wrist. “Don’t go out there. You can’t even swim.”

  Jada wrenched her arm away and turned on him with a savage look. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do! I will not stand by and watch as my husband and your fiancé make fools out of the both of us. Do you hear me?”

  Stan did, but he also heard something else. A split-second later, Jada heard it too. From far out on Lake Superior, a low moan drifted across the water, growing in intensity with each passing second. Soon, all eyes were staring out across the Great Lake. Stan’s eye caught the water slowly begin to retreat from the beach. Horrified, he sprinted the final twenty yards to the water’s edge. The sound began to build and was now a great roar. From out on the lake, the two huge freighters sounded their horns. By the time Stan reached the shore, the lake was in full retreat and all around him were the screams of terrified children. Stan ran out into the water and grabbed the neighbor twins by their skinny wrists; Nate and Nick McMahon, boys of about six years of age. With the lake barely over his knees, Stan felt the powerful rush of undertow as Lake Superior tried to pull him out into its dark depths. He clung to the boys as he fought to make it back to shore.

  Jada was soon at his side and together, they hauled the boys to safety. Jada was screaming at him, Stan could see the veins standing out on her neck, the flash of white teeth, her tongue curling as it formed unheard words. The roaring sound made them impossible to hear and was now threatening to explode his eardrums. Jill McMahan was running to meet them, her eyes full of tears, mouth open in a silent scream of terror. Stan dropped Nick on the beach and Jada did the same with Nate and they both ran to their mother. Stan and Jada then turned to face the lake.

  The lake had receded at least one hundred feet by now. Rocks that had been hidden for millenniums were now exposed for all to see. Sunken logs, cut a century before, were now seeing daylight. But Stan barely noticed them. He stared in disbelief as Butch and Marie, along with perhaps a thousand others, were swept out into the icy waters of Lake Superior.

  Jada sunk her fingernails into his bicep, but Stan could only stare out at the spectacle playing out before them. Each second that passed, the water receded another ten or twenty feet. There was no hope for Marie or Butch, Stan realized that. The fact that he and Jada had been able to save the twins had been a small miracle. Scant few had survived. The wreck of an old schooner, still recognizable, suddenly appeared five hundred yards from where the shoreline had been. Thirty seconds later, the massive steel hull of a sunken freighter was slowly revealed to the sunlight. That quickly, mercifully, Stan thought, the bobbing heads were gone. The two ships waiting out in the lake were also being swept away. Stan screamed as one of the ships began to spin, like a toy boat sitting on top of the tub drain, and it was suddenly sucked under the icy blue water. A few seconds later, the other ship followed. Stan could only guess to where.

  Unbelievably, the Great Lake was draining at an ever increasing rate. Sailboats and other smaller boats were all being swept into the huge drain. Stan covered his ears as the roar grew to a maddening crescendo. Jada let go of his sore arm and covered her own ears. Stan stole a look at her and saw that her face was streaked with tears. That was when he realized that he too, was crying. He was sobbing in great gasps and trembling as reality crashed down around them.

  Half an hour later, after the initial shock had worn off, Stan and Jada stood at the edge of the enormous sinkhole in what had been Lake Superior. They weren’t alone; a dozen others had climbed aboard their ATV’s and had ridden them out to where the big ships had been swallowed up. Off in the distance, more were headed their way. Above them, helicopters hovered lazily over the huge drain in the lake.

  Stan guessed the hole to be at least five hundred feet in circumference, but this isn’t what held his interest. From what he could see, the hole appeared to be bottomless. In fact, he and several other men had dropped large stones down into the chasm. They then strained their ears as they waited for a splash, but they were rewarded with only silence. Stan watched a thin young man step up to the edge of the hole with a heavy rock the size of basketball. He wore a Green Bay Packer cap over long blonde hair. Stan saw what was about to happen a split-second before it did. The kid inched his way to the edge of the hole, but the big rock he held in his cradled arms impeded his line of sight. Stan gasped as he watched the kid misjudge the distance and tumble headlong into the blackness.

  “Oh my God,” groaned Jada.

  There was a collective gasp and everyone took a step back from the edge. Stan listened in horror as the kid’s screams wailed up from out of the ground. The sinkhole seemed to amplify his screams. The young Packer fan continued shrieking until he exhausted his lungs; he would then quickly refill them and his screaming would begin with renewed intensity. This continued on until slowly, the agonized cries began to fade away.

  “Stupid cheese-head,” said Jada. That was all. After everything they had just witnessed, it was hard to find any sympathy for a foolish kid.

  Stan nodded and took Jada by the arm. He nodded up to the western sky. “Look,” he said, pointing to no less than a dozen National Guard helicopters flying their way. “Let’s get back to the cottage. I think this is going to get ugly.”

  Jada gave him a confused look and wrestled her arm away from him. “I want some answers,” she said, defiantly. “Somebody knows something and I want to know what they know!”

  “Jada…” pleaded Stan. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

  “That’s right,” said a cherub-faced man in a Hawaiian shirt and checkered swim trunks. “We’ve got a right to know what happened here!”

  Others began nodding their heads in agreement. Stan turned to face the helicopters. They were swooping down to the dry lake bed and they fanned out into a tight formation. Stan gasped as he realized they were coming straight at them. He clamped his hand around Jada’s wrist and began pulling her away. She began to protest, but her eyes suddenly grew large and she began to run. Stan let go of her arm and they ran as fast as they could for Stan’s Polaris ATV. The sound of thundering rotor blades grew behind them.

  They hopped on the ATV and Stan thumbed the ignition and the Polaris roared to life. With Jada’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Stan cracked the throttle and risked a quick look over his shoulder. The helicopters were nearly on top of the small crowd at the edge of the sink hole. Jada turned her head and watched the helicopters sweep the onlookers away from the sinkhole. From what Stan could see, the onlookers were all turning tail and following his lead. Stan returned his attention to the rock and sand terrain of the lakebed and followed his tracks back to the beach. With his neighbors watching, Stan drove straight past them and returned the Polaris to its place in the open garage. He parked it behind Butch’s Honda ATV and shut off the engine.

  “Holy shit,” gasped Jada. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Stan, turning to face her. Suddenly, he found his mouth locked onto Jada’s and the two shared a passionate kiss. Jada clung to him and pressed her face into his. Slowly, she pulled away. “I’m sorry,” whispered Stan. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” whispered Jada. “That was beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  “Really?” asked Stan. “Me too…”

  Jada gave him a shy smile and she leaned forward and began to kiss him again, softly at first, but building into one of the most sensuous kisses Stan had ever known. Again, she slowly pulled away. “Inside,” she said. “Don’t say a word, okay? Let’s go with it.”

  And Stan said nothing as he followed her out of the garage, slapping the button to close the overhead door as they walked outside. She led him into the house and took his hand as she led him up t
he wooden stairs. She walked into the guest bedroom and turned to face him. Stan put his hands on her hips and leaned in for a kiss. Jada returned the kiss and slowly pulled away. She turned her back to him and pointed to the middle of her bare back. “Untie me, will you?” she whispered. With trembling fingers, Stan pinched the ends of the bikini top strings.

  Downstairs, the door crashed open. “Stan, Butchie?” squealed Stan’s mother, Myra.

  “Boys!” bellowed Stan’s father, Sol.

  “Son of a bitch,” muttered Stan, dropping the ties and putting his hands over his face. “I can’t believe it.”

  Jada’s jaw dropped open and she shook her head. She raised a finger at him and whispered: “We are not finished, do you understand me? First chance we get, we’re going to do this.”

  Stan nodded as he tried to compose himself. He hadn’t seen his parents in months. There had been a nasty falling out and Butch had been at the center of it. There was the sound of heavy footsteps clamoring up the stairs. Stan rushed out the door and met his parents in the hallway as they topped the stairs. The three of them froze.

  “Where’s Butchie?” moaned his mother.

  “Yeah,” said Sol Goobash. “Where’s your brother? His car is in the driveway and