The Cypress Trap

Chapter 3

The rain drizzle had stopped, making for a sunny, hot afternoon on the lake. Owen, standing starboard at the bow with his fishing pole in hand, had his shirt tied around his waist by the sleeves. Rayanne remained in her pink sweatshirt. She didn’t mind the heat as much as the swarming gnats. She hoped they weren’t flying into her mouth as she told him all about the movie he missed the other night.

 “Even though the audience really enjoyed Becca’s remix and The Bellas came in third at the semi-finals, Aubrey gets real mad, you see, and yells at Becca.” Sitting portside on an ice chest in the back of the boat, Rayanne tossed her line and lure into the water again and watched it plop under the waves. She paused for dramatic effect. “This makes Becca up and quit.”

Owen didn’t respond. They’d been on the boat for a couple of hours without catching a fish and, quite frankly, she was getting bored. Now she was just talking to break the monotonous chirp of cicadas in the trees around them.

Toward the muddy banks, a heron flapped up into the bright sunlight. The bird turned across the vast expanse of marshland extending out from the far side of the lake toward the Cypress trees lining the lakeshore – and Rayanne’s gaze followed the bird’s flight for a moment, then she continued her story.

“So then The Bellas regroup after spring break, with the notable exception of Becca of course. Then guess what happens.” She turned her whole body to the other side of the ice chest to look at him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t acknowledge her. “Chloe stands up for Becca and forces Aubrey to let her back in the group.”

“You ruined the ending,” Owen said without so much as looking at her. It was the first thing he’d said in a good hour or so.

“Well, you fell asleep on the couch and missed it.” Rayanne considered finishing the plot synopsis, but instead fished a granola bar from the front pocket of her jeans, rocking the boat as she moved. She noisily tore open the wrapper and peeled it back to expose the yellowish grainy bar. She took a bite and it crunched in her mouth. This seemed to get Owen’s attention, and he looked over at her. She could see the irritation in his face.

“You want some?” She extended her arm, offering him the granola bar. His brow furrowed and she shrank back. 

“You ruined the ending,” he said, again.

“Well, it’s not like you’ll ever stay up to finish it anyway.” Like a scolded child, she tightened the wrapper around the remaining bar and returned it to her pocket.

She really wanted to lighten his mood, but just didn’t know how. 

After several moments of quietly listening to water slosh against the side of the boat, she thought of something else to say. “I can’t believe anyone lives out here on this lake. Maybe we should head to the south end by town.”

“I like it out here. There’s nobody around.” Owen reeled in his line then cast it again. It made a high-pitched whizzing sound as the lure flung out into the water and smoothly glided under. Twenty feet out in front of him, a faint swirl twisted the surface and a ripple moved in a line toward the bank.

Something was biting, but Rayanne didn’t care.

“We haven’t seen another boat in hours.” She stood up and stretched her legs. The boat waddled side to side as she moved. He didn’t respond and simply reeled his line in again. She listened to its soft click as she watched her own line bob up and down on the waves. It was almost hypnotic, and she stifled a yawn. She needed him to say something or she would fall asleep. Turning her head, she held her hand above her eyes to block the sun. 

“Did you talk to my Dad about being a salesman for his dealership? He says you’d make good money and there’s benefits.”

She watched her husband cringe and realized it was probably the worst subject she could’ve brought up. Still, it forced a reaction.