Lake Justice by Devon Ellington

 
LAKE JUSTICE
     
    The blue-black waters of Lake Justice shimmered, mottled with greens and grays. One could see the greens, browns, reds, and golds of the forest stretching around the long, wide lake, but not the farthest shores, which shimmered at us with a ghostly hint of banks. I walked to the edge of the lake, where the grass ended, and a pebbly, slightly sandy narrow stretch began. The lake spread out before me, glistening, inviting. It was so mesmerizing that I nearly stripped off my clothes right there and plunged in. So what if there was no salt? It was water, there was a lot of it, and it was my home element.
    I heard something then, a whisper. At first I thought it was a breeze, but it was too substantial for air. I thought it was my name, but couldn't be sure. The next words were distinct, though: "Help us."
    I spun around. I didn't see anyone. I got that all-too familiar prickle on the back of my neck. We weren't the only ones here, and some of the others weren't alive.
    "Aunt Bronwyn?" Jamie shaded his eyes with one hand and looked over toward me. "We need your help putting up the tents."
    I didn't speak; I wasn't sure I could. I nodded and returned to the van, where the kids and the chaperones were unloaded camping equipment.
    * * * *
    "You're kidding, right?" I stared at my godson, careful to make sure my bottom jaw didn't dangle down to the floor. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate I am as a chaperone for a bunch of kids? In addition to the whole Wiccan thing, which will probably cause some of the parents to picket your school."
    "Okay, first of all, you're way cooler than most of the parents, even when you kick kid ass for breaking rules." My twelve-year-old godson Jamie tossed a lock of dark brown hair that tended to obscure his view of the world as he listed his arguments on his fingers. "You treat us like people, not like action figures or small morons. Second, my school's full of parents with alternative lifestyles, everything from Santeria to same sex parents to Quakers to that family that thinks they're descended from aliens. That's why Mom moved us up here and not somewhere like-- Well, whatever area I list is going to be insulting. No one's gonna care you dance naked around a bonfire once a month."
    "Hey! That's only a couple of times a year." I couldn't help smiling at him. "And how did you know that?"
    "I heard Mom grilling you about it one day. Yeah, I eavesdropped. Deal." He tossed his hair back and continued, "Third, it's a small group of the really smart kids in the school, and you're the one who convinced Mom to let me be part of it, even though most of them are older. Fourth, we're going camping on a lake--"
    "I don't camp."
    "But you're really into nature!"
    "Yeah, when I can hike during the day and enjoy it from the porch of the inn, with a dry vodka martini in my hand. I don't think that'll go over so well."
    "It's for one weekend. You can be in a tent for one weekend. It's up on Lake Justice; it's really pretty up there--"
    "It's autumn. It'll be really cold up there."
    "You're tough enough to deal. Plus, you've got a way of keeping us in line so we don't feel like we're in prison. The two teachers who are in charge, Mr. Everett and Mr. Andrews, are both new to the school this year. The trip was their idea, and, if it's a disaster, it'll never happen again. Mrs. Williams is a little bossy, but she's okay. Her daughter, Felicia, is the only other one my age, and she's a little strange, but she's not too bad. I mean, we kinda lucked out on our chaperones this time." Jamie sighed. "And you know Mom had to drop out because Dad flaked again on visitation weekend, so there's no one to take care of the twins, who are sick anyway."
    "I guess I'd rather be out in the woods with you than deal with Ivy and Patience puking all weekend." I sighed. "Okay. I'll do it."
    "Thanks." Jamie hugged me. "You won't regret it. And thanks for not pointing out what a putz Dad is all the time."
    "Hey, I made