Nobody Says It's Easy

38

"You know, Mr. Beanie, you should consider growing a beard," the old man said.

"A beard!"

"Yeah. Just like mine. Big and bushy. Real big, you understand?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't."

The canoe was gliding through the crystal clear water. The pond was enormous. If Beanie had given it any thought, he would have called it a lake. 

A Great Lake.

They had gotten into the canoe at the other side of the campground. The piers that held the little boats were skinny. The wood looked ancient and mummified like it had been baked in the sun for decades.

Beanie was hesitant, but the old man assured him the gray boards would hold his weight. Beanie got into the boat with his fishing pole. The old man opened a rusty padlock on a shed nearby and retrieved a cane pole.

"I'll paddle," the old man said. "You just sit back and enjoy the ride."

"Thanks," said Beanie.

"Big and bushy," resumed the old man. "A face full of hair is as manly thing. A beard is like a woman's chest, son. The bigger it is the better. Trust me. You want to attract the opposite sex, grow a beard. Women can't take their eyes off a long, flowing patch of maleness."

"I see," said Beanie.

"We men have to think for ourselves, you know what I'm saying? Tread your own path. Sure you might step in a cow pile sometimes, but everybody does. Just take a big stick and scrape the stuff off your boots."

"I have to be real quiet when I'm thinking," said Beanie.

"Oh, I like quiet men. They're usually thoughtful and serious. Nothing wrong with that. No, sir."

"What about quiet women?" Beanie asked.

"I like them, too. But they're usually crazy," he said.

"I feel bad," said Beanie.

"What you got to feel bad about, son?"

"I ain't been too nice to my friend."

"That pink flamingo?"

"No, the other one," said Beanie.

"Shoot, boy. Don't beat yourself up about that. Being a fart box is part of being a man."

"Umm," said Beanie.

The old man paddled across the small pond. Beanie was wondering if the guy was senile. There did not appear to be any coves beyond the main pond, but as the old man paddled toward the maze of overhanging tree limbs and bushes, a small opening appeared. The old man paddled straight through the portal. Beanie's breath caught in his throat.

"This place is so pretty," he said.

"It is magical," said the old man. "I love it more each time I see it."

"I can see why," said Beanie.

The old man parked the canoe near a peaceful cove.

"We'll try our luck here," he said.

As Beanie dropped his line in the water, the old man began a friendly banter.

"What brings y'all here?" he asked.

"Oh, vacation," said Beanie.

In a few short hours, Beanie had told the man everything he knew about himself and his friends from Hope Rock County.

"You say your friend's real smart?"

"Yeah. Hadley's got lots of brains. She's real good at figuring out stuff I don't even begin to understand. Why, she even figured out who killed Eustian Singlepenny. That old guy was about the meanest man I ever met."

"She did, did she? I could tell she was a thinker the first time I laid eyes on her. If a woman's got any sense at all, son, you can see it in their eyes."

"Yes, sir. I don't know how she did it, but she did. She's the best. Best cook. Best cat owner. And probably my best friend."

"But you said she likes to cosset you, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," said Beanie. "She does coddle me. But that's just because she doesn't like to see me, you know, get hurt and all."

"Umm."

"What?" Beanie asked.

"Oh, nuthin."

"No," said Beanie. "Something's bothering you. What is it?"

"Women are amazing creatures, son," he said. "They bring us into the world."

"Hadley's not my mama," said Beanie.

"Oh, I know that. You told me all about your mama earlier. I'm just saying that they bring us into the world and tell us we can have the world on a string."

"Uh-huh," Beanie said unsurely.

"But they don't always tell us that string is tied to their aprons!"

The old man must have thought those were the funniest words he'd ever spoken. He laughed maniacally. Beanie wasn't sure about the meaning of what was said, but he laughed along with his friend. It would be impolite not to. And for some unexplained reason, the color rose in Beanie's cheeks, too.

"Yes, sir," the old man said, "they don't tell us we're tied to their aprons!"

"Right," said Beanie.

"Now, son, look over the side of this canoe. See the deep, deep blue water. Water so deep and so blue, it looks like it goes on forever. So deep. So deep. It almost feels like its calling you. Calling you. So deep. So clear. So nice."

Beanie's head was lolling on his shoulders. His eyelids were half-closed.

"This water's calling you, son. Hear it?"

"Uh-huh," Beanie said softly.

"Go on. Go for a swim. A nice, long, relaxing dip in the deep blue."

The canoe tipped sideways.

Beanie yanked on his rod.

"I think I got a big one," he yelled.