Captive{ated}

Twenty-Three: Lifeline

The boat balanced in the water, swaying and shifting as the small waves crashed in to it. It was a whole new experience for me being in that little canoe. I couldn't decide whether I liked the feeling of floating, my feet never having left the certainty of solid ground. A smile appeared on my lips, nonetheless, as I surveyed Lake Superior around us, the sun reflecting off its waters so I had to shield my eyes.

When our gazes met, your smile matched mine, your dimples as blinding as the sun. I couldn't stare at them long without feeling an insistent hammering in my chest, a warmth that spread from my center to the farthest reaches of my body. I understood the feeling well, but it's not one I wanted to admit to. It's not one that I wanted to accept having for you again.

You rowed a few more boat-lengths out before coming to a stop, the current doing with us whatever it wanted to. The sky was a vibrant blue above us, not a single cloud. We were about a quarter mile out from the Village, but even knowing its location, I could hardly tell it was there. The buildings were farther in, hidden by a small hill that rose just off the beach. The fence was barely visible. It's no wonder the Village hadn't been found from the water. Even from this close distance, its grounds appeared just to be another part of the forest.

Still, hopelessness wasn't the feeling that overcame me. A small sense of freedom was. This was the first time I wasn't outside the fence since arriving here, and while I wasn't free since you were still here and we were floating in freezing, deep water, excitement was all I could muster.

Birds flew overhead, but it felt as though we were the only two souls in the world.

You had come home from work that day, riddled with enthusiasm. You could hardly contain yourself, smiling from ear to ear at my persistent questioning. "What has gotten in to you?" I asked.

"Come, I would like to show you something."

We left without even eating the dinner I had so graciously prepared for us. The plates sat on the table, the food never to be eaten for they would be cold by the time we returned.

I pestered you the entire way to the lake, but your lips were sealed. "Patience, Evie," your voice was melodic.

After living here, patience was something I didn't have in big supply anymore. You were just as stubborn as me, though, not revealing a single detail.

We arrived on the shoreline and you continued leading me to a shed that sat behind a few trees. You unlocked the giant padlock holding it shut, opening the doors to reveal a handful of canoes.

"We're going on a boat?" I asked confused.

Your response was only a smile, and now here we sat. In one direction, a tree line retreated to the distance for miles. On the other, I saw nothing but blue. It was difficult to discern where the sky met the water since the lake was so calm.

"It's peaceful out here, isn't it?" You were the first of us to speak our entire boat ride.

"It sure is," I breathed.

"It would be so easy to just let the current take you away. Take you away from all your worries and responsibilities." I studied you closely, a dreamy look in your eyes as you looked at the great expanse of water. Sometimes when you allowed your vulnerability to surface, I could see that in some ways, you were trapped just as I was. The difference was, you had the key to open the door while I was chained to the walls. You had an escape but couldn't bring yourself to use it.

"Then, why don't you?" I asked carefully.

"Hmph," you laughed shortly. Your voice was soft, sounding as if you had thought about this thousands of times. "I'm needed here."