Skipping Stones

Chapter 2

It had become a new ritual for Jameson to jog past the secluded area of the lake, checking if the mysterious stone-skipper was there. For a week, Jameson hadn't spotted the man, nor had he seen him throughout his jog near other places he'd expect someone to be skipping stones. He should've given up after the first couple of days, but it had become a habit; walking off the jog toward the secluded parking lot before heading to his regular parking spot.

Today was different, though. Jameson hadn't known what compelled him to park in that secluded parking spot, especially when today's crowd was only a fraction of what it had been a week ago. The main parking lot had been relatively empty; even his usual parking spot was open, but call it curiosity, Jameson's eyes wandered to the sketchy parking stall and the beach spot he had seen the mysterious man.

Even though he hadn't seen him since, it felt like an itch he needed to scratch. A new ritual he was developing, Jameson learned.

A form of addiction, his therapist had best described it, a fixation of routine as a form of distraction. One that helped Jameson used to overcome his cravings for those cancer sticks. From his unhealthy obsession with iced coffees or his latest obsession with attempting to run this trail, watching for the strange man had been another fix.

Driving his beat-up Camry into the secluded parking lot, Jameson pulled into the stall, hoping by the time he finished his daily jog, he wouldn't be met with broken glass and a stolen catalytic converter. It wasn't like he had much in his car to begin with, but replacing a new part or a window was not something Jameson could afford, financially or in time.

Jameson let the song on his radio play out, watching as the gentle breeze blew the tree branches. His eyes gravitated toward the shoreline, the swaying branches moving just enough to spot what his curiosity had wondered this past week.

The stone-skipper, Jameson had coined, was there; only this time, he was sitting among the sandy shores of the lake. No stone-skipping this time.

As he neared the man and the lake, Jameson noted that he was alone; other than the two of them, there weren't any joggers, fishermen, children, or even dog-walkers. In hindsight, Jameson knew it was strange to approach a random stranger, but he found it odder that a person would want to view the lake from such a secluded area. Especially when the paved trails offered far more incredible views of the water and mountain range. People often flocked to the trails for sunrise and sunset photos, but that small patch of sand offered poor lighting with the billowing tree canopies and the hilly main road that obscured the setting sun's rays.

Jameson approached the shore with a lack of better judgment, noting the large stones that gradually got smaller until a patch of sand was visible near the man with sand-colored hair.

Behind him were the smaller rocks, some more rounded than the flatter and larger stones that were most likely ideal skipping stones which sat further behind him.

Like his first sighting of the man, Jameson hadn't seen anyone nearby, not even in the water, nor in the shade near the other end of the sandy shore. What was a young man doing all alone out here?

Jameson cleared his throat, an awkward gesture he almost kicked himself for.

"You know, the view from here isn't the best. There's a reason there's a trail on the eastern end of the lake." Jameson told him, standing about a few yards from the man.

"I quite like it here," the man insisted, his eyes never leaving the mountain range, shockingly unfazed at Jameson's attempt at providing a suggestion. As if the man with shades knew or heard him coming, he merely smiled before saying in an even tone. "It's beautiful."

Jameson shrugged. "It's not like it changes, maybe for the winter, but it's the same thing day in and day out. Unless you can move mountains or something, it's not that exciting."

"To me, they are." The man sighed. "And it does change, the shadows shift, even the lake sits at different levels every now and then. Even the hues change colors."

"The hues? Like I said, maybe for winter—"

"For me, it changes. I want to see it all." He paused before adding softly, almost inaudible to Jameson. "While I can."

Jameson wanted to scoff. If the man really wanted to see it all, sitting in the exact spot in the sand wasn't going to do anything.

"Agree to disagree, then?" The man with the shades quipped.

"Agree to disagree," Jameson echoed before lowering himself next to the man. He didn't flinch or move away, simply stared at the vast horizon beyond them, just as he had before. "You know, there are a few great vantage points further up the trail, away from the people and closer to the forest."

"That so?"

Jameson hummed before pointing off to the left. "There's a hidden lookout about half a mile from here, and at the end, there's a waterfall you can actually cross. Not many of the visitors know about it; a little local secret gem, if you will."

Much to Jameson's surprise, the stone-skipper didn't seem all that surprised. Met with silence, he told the shorter male. "Would you like to check it out?"

"If I could, I would."

Frowning, Jameson wondered just how many secrets shrouded the mysterious stone-skipper in sunglasses. "Well, the trek to the first one isn't that difficult. It does branch off the main trail, but there's not much of an incline. The waterfall one is a bit trickier, but the view from there is world's better than the view from here."

"Maybe one day," the man responded, melancholy hovering underneath those words like a dark and tempest cloud. "For now, I quite enjoy seeing this view."

"Well, alright," Jameson quipped. "If you say so..."

"Liam."

"Liam," he let it roll off his tongue. "Jameson, but most people call me Jamie."

"Nice to meet you, Jamie," Liam told him before patting the sand beside him. "Feel free to enjoy viewing the lake and mountains from here. I quite like seeing it from this side. Especially in the peace and quiet with the sand underneath me."

Jameson merely nodded, despite the urge to tell the stone-skipper that this view was paltry compared to the ones he's seen along the trail and near the hidden waterfall. But there wasn't much to lose by appeasing Liam and seeing what he saw from the sandy shore. As Jameson sat beside him, it didn't take long for Liam to let out an amused chuff.

"It must seem weird for someone to look at something rather dull and boring and think it's beautiful," Liam said quietly. "Or to be out here all alone."

"Well," Jameson drawled. "It did seem odd seeing you here all alone. But not as odd as a complete stranger approaching said person. Why did you choose this spot?"

A smile had made its way on Liam's face. It was the first time Jameson had seen any emotion from the stone-skipping man with sunglasses.

"Have you ever felt at home in a place you've only heard about?"

Jameson hummed before replying, "I can't say that I have."

"That's what this place feels to me," Liam's tone was that of ardor. "Home."

Aside from the sounds of nature, the two fell into silence, Jameson left to wonder how a small speck of shoreline could be considered home to some one.