The Laundress of Silver Lake by Julie Jansen Page A

blood. He didn’t notice a small but very sharp piece of glass nestled within the fibers. The blood soaked through and dripped onto the left knee of the white pants he’d worn in memory of Silver Lake’s Laundress.
    Arvid looked around. Josephine wasn’t there to help him with the stain. She remained silent in his time of need. He called out to her. “Josephine Fritzkiev! I mean no harm to you or your hermit lover!”
    All he heard in response were birds as they chattered and swooped at clumsy insects flying close to the water’s surface.
    He sat down on a boulder, warm from the mid-morning sun, and applied direct pressure to his palm to control the bleeding.
    The long neck of Spenser, the plesiosaur, emerged from the depths with a mouthful of grass and spurted a spray of water out his nostrils.
    “You are a majestic creature!” Arvid called out to the beast and waved.
    Chirping came from the rocks. Arvid turned. It was a small blue lizard with lime green eyes.
    “Hello, little lizard,” he said.
    “Chirp!” it said in response.
    The lizard exhaled and produced a tweety kind of whistle. It bobbed its head up and down and jumped from side to side. Arvid thought it was communicating with him.
    Arvid tried it too. Attempting a sort of Italian hand gesture he thought meant “nice day we’re having, isn’t it?”he saluted the morning sun. In the process, the piece of fabric fell out of his hand and landed near the lizard.
    “Chirp!” it said again, and rushed forward. It bit the fabric and dashed away into the rocks.
    Arvid wondered why the lizard wanted the fabric. Maybe it used it as nesting material. Maybe it witnessed Arvid soil the fabric and wanted to wash it, to get the stain out before it set.
    Arvid was intrigued by the bold little reptile. When the blue lizard reappeared with the piece of fabric still in its mouth, three more lizards accompanied it.
    “Chirp!” one said.
    “Chirp! Chirp!” said another.
    The third lizard only bobbed its head.
    “What do you little fellows know about Josephine Fritzkiev?” Arvid asked. “Tell me where she’s hiding!”
    They cocked their heads and stared at him suspiciously.
    “Josephine Fritzkiev!” he said again.
    Lizard number 1 dropped the piece of fabric and pounced on Arvid’s leg.
    Lizard number 2 rushed to the fabric, picked it up, and disappeared into the rocks.
    Lizard number 3 hopped onto Arvid’s other leg. “Chirp!” it said.
    Arvid noticed how striking their blue skin was against his bloodstained pants.
    He and the lizards studied each other. It was a peaceful moment when one bonded with nature.
    Lizard number1 sat on Arvid’s left knee. It shifted and left three soft brown pellets on his leg. The lizard stepped on one of the pellets and crushed it into the fabric.
    Arvid shrugged. That knee was already stained with blood. Lizard poop wouldn’t make a difference. But then he noticed a miracle. The blood stain began to disappear. That brown lizard dropping worked like bleach.
    Lizard number 2 looked at Lizard number 1. They stared for a moment, in a Mexican stand-off. Then Lizard number 1 lunged toward number 2. They snarled and hissed and tore at each other with razor-sharp teeth. These tiny creatures were not as sweet as Arvid originally thought.
    Arvid reached out a hand to break up the fight, when all of a sudden, one of the lizards flew through the air and bit him on the right index finger.
    More than one “ouch”and several colorful four-letter words spewed from Arvid’s mouth. The lizard’s teeth sliced clear to the bone and held tight to the finger, like it was an extension of Arvid’s body. The lizard’s stomach swelled as it gorged itself with Arvid’s blood.
    Out of the corner of his eye Arvid saw another lizard fly at him from out of nowhere. It headed straight for his nose. Using the current lizard attached to his finger as a bat, he swung at the airborne one, knocking it into the lake. In the water it squirmed and