A Day at the Lake

By Jim Sellers

Things had worked out as planned; the day was warm and windless for the school field

trip to the lake. The children were drunk with freedom and they bounced off their seats as

the bus negotiated the ruts and heaves of the seasonal gravel road that led to the sandy

beach.

Soon the water was full of small, screaming bodies kicking, diving and swimming under

the casual gaze of the teachers. All were grateful for the break. Most of the herd was

congregated in the closest part of the beach with a few braver kids swimming out to the

centre of the lake to a diving raft that was anchored to that spot. Off to one side, in

another section of the lake, out of eyeshot of the chatting supervising adults, a small head

was bobbing around in the reeds. One young boy was playing by himself. He thought the

reeds would be more fun to swim in, like a jungle. Certainly no one was telling him not to

and he was used to being on his own.

The time had flown by and the adults called everyone to come in. The boy started to

swim back but the reeds were sticky and slithered around his legs and before he knew it

he was trapped. He splashed and called for help but he was deep in the reeds and could

not be seen from the shore.

 Everyone was told to pick up their bags and get on the bus. One child's bag was left on

the sand. The tired teacher saw the bag, scooped it up and jumped on the bus before they

drove off. The head count had been done, or tried by different adults, always ending up

with different results. Finally they scanned the bus from memory and decided that

everyone was there.

Finally the grasping leaves gave way and he swam toward the shore. It was getting dark

and cold. The boy's struggles with the reeds and cost him too much energy and his

strength was waning. The shore seemed too far away to reach.

At the school, the buses were met with a jammed lot full of waiting parents and day care

vans. All parties left wishing everyone a happy summer and promises to see each other in

the fall.

The boy slipped in and out of consciousness, his light weight saving him from sinking

while he lay motionless. During a moment of waking, he moved his foot and felt - mud.

The shore was close; he could hear the lapping of the water. The wind was cold as it blew

across his skin. There was little difference between the dark of his unconsciousness and

the night sky. He had never felt so cold.

His parents were divorced. The argument about who was to pick their son up after the

field trip went from the mother who said it was the first day of summer holidays and the

father should get him, to the father who argued that this was the last day of school and it
 was her job. Each had thought they had won the argument and no one from the school

had called, so it was not until the next morning when the father arrived at the mother’s to

pick up his son that anyone knew he was missing. The police were called.

He wondered around the lake looking for someone from the school. He called by his

voice was weak. He was hungry, cold and afraid. His foot caught on something and he

stumbled in the sand. Feeling with his hands in the dark he found a towel that was left by

one of the swimmers. It was damp and full of sand but, when he wrapped himself, it was

warm. He curled up under a bush and fell asleep.

The sky was clear and cloudless and the sun illuminated the road reflecting off the traffic

that rolled madly to the east. Police cars sped along in a line, sirens screaming, lights

flashing. A helicopter was called and parents sitting in the back of one car verbally

abused each other while the principal of the school begged for peace and calm.

He woke sore, cold and covered in insect bites. All around him was the sound of nature,

the water, the bugs, the animals wandering around him. No people, no cars, no escape.

He knew what they would say. It was his fault, he should have stayed close, he should

have tried harder to get back, he should have - but he didn’t. They would blame him, they

would punish him.

They pulled the boy's body from the lake at 8:00 on Saturday morning. They assumed he

had drowned and that the school had abandoned him. But the evidence didn’t match. He
wasn’t dead that long. The police investigated further and found the imprint of his small

body on the sand under a tree and a towel by the water. Why did he drown?

They released a report that, although disbelieved and denied by everyone whose

reputation and culpability came into question, was the only possible explanation

supported by the evidence.

The boy found his way to shore, had curled up waiting for someone to come, and then

waded back in the water and drowned.