Lloyd Schwartz

"You can be so inconsiderate." "You are too sensitive." "Then why don't you take my feelings into consideration?" "If you weren't so sensitive it wouldn't matter." • "You seem to really care about me only when you want me to do something for you." "You do too much for people." • "I thought you were going home because you were too tired to go with me to a bar." "I was. But Norman didn't want to come here alone." •

rain on the lake room at the lodge alone in a room in the lazy light loons on the lake geese in the air moose in the woods aware    awake a cry dislodged from the musty woods the gamy musk of the one aroused the roaming moose the rooms lit up the woods awake in the loony light the moon dislodged the lake aflame the Muse amazed amused     aroused

It was déjà vu all over again. I know this town like the back of my head. People who live in glass houses are worth two in the bush. One hand scratches the other. A friend in need is worth two in the bush. A bird in the hand makes waste. Life isn’t all it’s crapped up to be. It’s like finding a needle in the eye of the beholder. It’s like killing one bird with two stones. My motto in life has always been:Get It Over With. Two heads are better than none. A rolling stone deserves another. All things wait for those who come. A friend in need deserves another. I’d trust him as long as I could throw him. He smokes like a fish. He’s just a chip off the old tooth. I’ll have him eating out of my lap. A friend in need opens a can of worms. Too many cooks spoil the child. An ill wind keeps the doctor away. The wolf at the door keeps the doctor away. People who live in glass houses keep the doctor away. A friend in need shouldn’t throw stones. A friend in need washes the other. A friend in need keeps the doctor away. A stitch in time is only skin deep. A verbal agreement isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. A cat may look like a king. Know which side of the bed your butter is on. Nothing is cut and dried in stone. You can eat more flies with honey than with vinegar. Don’t let the cat out of the barn. Let’s burn that bridge when we get to it. When you come to a fork in the road, take it. Don’t cross your chickens before they hatch. DO NOT READ THIS SIGN. Throw discretion to the wolves. After the twig is bent, the barn door is locked. After the barn door is locked, you can come in out of the rain. A friend in need locks the barn door. There’s no fool like a friend in need. We’ve passed a lot of water since then. At least we got home in two pieces. All’s well that ends. It ain’t over till it’s over. There’s always one step further down you can go. It’s a milestone hanging around my neck. Include me out. It was déjà vu all over again.

The black water. Lights dotting the entire perimeter. Their shaky reflections. The dark tree line. The plap-plapping of water around the pier. Creaking boats. The creaking pier. Voices in conversation, in discussion—two men, adults—serious inflections (the words themselves just out of reach). A rusty screen-door spring, then the door swinging shut. Footsteps on a porch, the scrape of a wooden chair. Footsteps shuffling through sand, animated youthful voices (how many?)— distinct, disappearing. A sudden guffaw; some giggles; a woman’s—no, a young girl’s—sarcastic reply; someone’s assertion; a high-pitched male cackle. Somewhere else a child laughing. Bug-zappers. Tires whirring along a pavement... not stopping ... receding. Shadows from passing headlights. A cat’s eyes caught in a headlight. No moon. Connect-the-dot constellations filling the black sky—the ladle of the Big Dipper not quite directly overhead. The radio tower across the lake, signaling. Muffled quacking near the shore; a frog belching; crickets, cicadas, katydids, etc.—their relentless sexual messages. A sudden gust of wind. Branches brushing against each other—pine, beech. A fiberglass hull tapping against the dock. A sudden chill. The smell of smoke, woodstove fires. A light going out. A dog barking; then more barking from another part of the lake. A burst of quiet laughter. Someone in the distance calling someone too loud. Steps on a creaking porch. A screen-door spring, the door banging shut. Another light going out (you must have just undressed for bed). My bare feet on the splintery pier turning away from the water.