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Struck (standard:romance, 6920 words)
Author: J. NicklausAdded: Jan 22 2002Views/Reads: 2192/1482Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Love can make you do things any sane person wouldn't.
 



Late evening settled uneasily over the basin lake. The ominous
thunderclouds overhead were certainly a portent of things to come. Tom 
Schilling and his wife Sandy stood in their living room looking through 
the bay window of their cabin watching their neighbor of eight years go 
through his usual ritual for stormy nights. 

“As many times as I’ve talked to him, I still don’t understand what
drives him to do it” Tom muttered aloud. 

Sandy watched Tom’s eyes. He and Jes had become good friends since their
first meeting on the lakeshore eight years ago. Tom’s concern for his 
friend was genuine. 

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder as a quiet show of support.
“All we know for sure is he steadfastly believes she is out there” 
Sandy whispered. The couple watched the clouds begin to light up from 
within as lightning careened throughout them. 

Tom turned, as he did every time, to go try to reason with Jes. “I have
to try, hun. “ 

“I know. Remember, he’s got a big heart. Talk to his heart, not to him”
she offered. 

Tom kissed her on the cheek then spun and hurriedly walked outside
before Jes got his metal boat on the lake. Sandy closed her eyes and 
listened to each footstep as it landed on the wood floor, then the 
familiar creak of the wooden screen door as it opened and closed. Then 
she turned her gaze back through the bay window. From where she stood 
she could see the lake water becoming a little choppy, and Tom’s hair 
blow in the wind. 

Night reached over and placed its hand on the Sun’s shoulder. 

II 

Jes glanced up at the gathering storm. Here was another opportunity to
finally make the last piece fall into place. Many mistook his actions 
for suicidal tendencies, mostly because there was no way anyone could 
understand what he had experienced nor what burned in his heart. 

He carefully stowed his battery-powered lamp under the bench seat of the
small boat, and placed the plastic-encased blanket right next to it. He 
paused and took a moment to take in the encroaching storm. Closing his 
eyes he allowed all of his senses to feel the onset of night, and the 
natural tenseness of the storm. As he opened his eyes he caught a black 
raven coasting on the breeze. 

“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

Damn Poe, he thought. Inwardly he was grateful for not having a chamber
door. 

With a deep breath and exhalation, he donned his rain slicker then set
about launching the boat. 

III 

Gravel and old pine needles crunched under Tom’s feet as he strode down
to the small dock. He called out ahead to try and catch Jes’ attention. 


“Jes!”  He watched for a response, continuing to walk forward, but none
came. 

“Jeesssssss!” he shouted again. The wind seemed determined to prevent
his voice from reaching its destination. Still no answer. He began 
running when he saw Jes put on his rain slicker.  The loud thump of 
slowing footsteps on the wooden planking of the dock made Jes look up. 

“Hey Tom” 

“Hey Jes” Tom replied, although almost out of breath. “Jeez I’m getting
old” 


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