With Respect to a Line

The damned scene in Rochelle's car. The exuberant young man and the attractive young woman, relative strangers, driving together. The man we'll call Avery.

The discussion in the car, generally flirtatious. But Avery had somewhat awkwardly revealed that he had been essentially disowned by his parents, making a play for sympathy and casting himself as the man unwanted. He was self-conscious about it, but saw that it worked, inasmuch as Rochelle did make some attempt to comfort him. Superficially, but from a woman like Rochelle -- a social tactician -- that's all Avery would expect, and all that he was seeking.

They pulled to a stop at the side of the road. The whole thing was Avery's idea. He had wanted to get her away from the party, in part, but he really wanted to be at the lakeshore. He wanted to be together with her, alive in the moonlight, surrounded by the glowing snow. Rochelle's less glamorous friend, Jan, had insisted on tagging along; Avery had at least been able to convince her to drive separately -- better to have two cars, in case one gets stuck.

Rochelle left the headlights on for a while, fiddling with her gloves. Jan roared past them in her '77 Ford LTD and lurched to a stop.

"You'll love this," Avery assured Rochelle, the two of them still in the car. "I've come here before, and it's the most beautiful piece of shoreline. I would come swimming here in the summer, alone. It was funny--the lifeguards would be here practicing. They'd run through the drill over and over, the one out in the row boat calling to the people in the water to get out. 'This is a practice emergency. Please get out of the water and stay behind the cones.' The guy would call out over and over, and--"

"How long will this take," asked Rochelle. "Is it a long walk to the shore?"

"Not too long. It will take a while, but we're dressed warmly enough. I don't know, exactly, but it's not too far."

Jan, having made her way back from her car to Rochelle's, opened Avery's door. "Come on," she urged, leaning into the car. She hesitated there for a moment, then left, the door standing wide open. The cold winter air rushed through the car.

"It'll be beautiful," said Avery. "There's a full moon tonight. I promise it will just be beautiful. The wide open shore line, with no one else there, and the moon glow everywhere, shimmering warmly from the snow on the lake, running off into the distance. It'll be--"

Rochelle's door slammed shut. She had left the car. Avery pulled on his warm gloves, over the thin cotton gloves he already had on, and got out of the car. The snow was deeper here, next to the lake, than it had been in town. The feel of it collapsing so readily under his feet was absolutely delicious. He breathed in the crisp cold air and let out a joyous roar.

"God," hissed Rochelle, leaning against the front of her car for balance as she crossed in front of it. "Be quiet. For christsake, this is a neighborhood."

Avery closed the heavy car door and looked around at the houses, the rooves swollen with snow. It was late, and nearly all of the windows were dark. He then turned and bounded through the snow, lifting his feet high with each step.

Jan stood a ways off, waiting. She was looking up at the sky, her breath visible in the light. Avery headed towards her, then stopped, looking back to see that Rochelle was making progress. "Isn't this great?" he called back. He waited for a moment. Then, "Aren't you glad I talked you into leaving that party?"

He waited for Rochelle to make it up to where he stood. She reached out to him, and he held out his hand for her. She grasped at it, just as she almost lost her balance. The snow was up past her knees.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"It's the old Schlitz farm, I think. They used to keep their horses here, to graze. The horses that would haul the beer wagons. I don't know, exactly. Maybe they just kept them here during the summer. It's a park now. The life guards from the city beaches practice up here, like I was saying."

Avery and Rochelle eventually made it up to where Jan stood waiting. There they paused for a moment, Avery breathing heavily with exhiliration.

"Could you take my keys?" asked Jan, handing them to Avery. "I have holes in my coat pockets."

"Sure." Avery took a glove off and dug into his pants pocket, dropping the keys in. He then pulled his glove back on. Jan had already started down the path. She called back, asking how long it takes to get to the shore.

"Just stay on this path. Eventually it forks, and you'll want to turn right. That will take you right down to the beach."

"Will the lake be frozen?" asked Rochelle.

Avery turned to her, and felt in touch with all things beautiful as he looked into her face. She was wearing a splendid winter coat, the fur-trimmed hood pulled up over her head. He stood, aware of his breath in the light, smiling broadly.

"I expect so," he replied. "It's almost Christmas, and it's been so cold. I don't know."

He held his hands out to her, seeing that she was picking her way carefully through the deep snow. She didn't notice, though he kept his hands out for quite a while. Eventually giving up, he turned to go after Jan, already out of sight.

Avery stepped largely along the path, his mind racing. He felt that he'd had a bit to drink. His throat and insides were warm, and he felt boundless energy. This was what he had been seeking. In the car with Rochelle, he had explained his profound need for contact with nature. The differences between him and his parents came down to the fact that he no longer relied on the crutches of culture and mythos, he had tried to explain, and he sought fundamental truth. Perhaps this was lost on Rochelle. He wondered. But surely she must have the same sense. To some degree. She was young, though he did not know how young. It was a young party. What was she, maybe twenty-two? He was only a year older than that, but he felt ten years older. But she looked so damned good, and he'd talked her into coming with him. He felt like maybe he could discover some deeper vitality in her.

He stopped again, and turned and see how she was progressing. He had made it quite a ways down the trail. Perhaps half way, though Jan was still out of sight. He waited. He looked to see Rochelle coming around the corner, but she was not there. His head tilted back, he looked up at the stars. Such a clear, cold night. He was happy to have come to Milwaukee. Staring about him, it reminded him of the feelings he had had as a child, outdoors alone, away from his parents and brothers, even his friends. And now, all that was way away, and he was free.

He heard Rochelle. There she was, just clearing the corner. He stood waiting for her, smiling again.

"Isn't this incredible?" he called out.

She stopped and looked up. She wheezed exaggeratedly and threw her arms up. He laughed, then there passed a moment of silence.

"Emery?" she said.

"Avery."

"Avery?"

"Yes?" he asked. She wasn't coming any closer.

"I don't like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't like this. I'd like to head back."

He stood staring at her, and she at him. He took a step towards her, then stopped.

"What do you mean, you'd like to head back."

"I mean I don't like this. I feel like this is someone else's property, like I shouldn't be here. I want to go back to my car."

"But isn't this incredible?"

They stood looking to each other, then she turned and exhaled meaningfully to the side. He started back, looking down and stepping in his same steps.

"Rochelle," he said, coming to a stop near her. "Rochelle, it's not that much further. We must be half way there."

"Well, I've come far enough. I want to go back to the party."

"Why?"

"Because."

Again their eyes met. They stared at each other. Then he shook his head.

"I don't get it. Why don't you want to go to the lakeshore?"

She sighed. "I just don't want to okay?"

"No, don't you see? This is what I was getting at in the car. You have to face this." He stopped, then started again. "I mean, this is just the sort of thing you have to do. Why don't you want to go on, to see the lakeshore?"

"I don't know."

He reached out and took hold of her shoulders, aware again that he had been drinking, but pleased at his purity of thought.

"Rochelle, this is life. This is the very stuff of life. Tonight, you have the opportunity to do something you'll always remember. Something beautiful. There's a full moon, and it's dead quiet. Nobody's here. Just us. Rochelle, don't you feel it?"

She leaned away, but he did not let go.

"This is the sort of thing," he continued, "that you shouldn't be turning away from. If you're afraid of this, you'll be afraid of... everything with meaning. I would never have gotten away from my parents... I mean, you have to take the big step. You have to see past all the crap, to see life. If you don't even know what's stopping you, you're forever trapped."

Rochelle closed her eyes, standing still in Avery's grasp.

"Let me go."

He let her go.

She took a step backward, almost losing her balance, then turned and headed back.

"Wait!" called Avery. "Rochelle, how can you not want to do this? This is what it means to be really alive."

She continued, clearing the corner. He stood alone again, wanting to follow her. He had spent the whole night wanting to be near her, and now it was sharper than ever. But Jan had gone ahead already. He looked up to the sky again, took a deep cold breath, then looked down at his own footsteps. He closed his eyes, and felt his body swaying ever so slightly. Hadn't he been making sense? He stood in place like that with his eyes closed, feeling that he had just succeeded in turning Rochelle off entirely. From her point of view, he was extreme. Freakishly extreme. Yet he wanted her. He saw how perfect her clothes were, and her hair; how everything she said at the party came off just so.

He turned to follow Jan. To see the lakeshore. He started running, and stumbled, falling on one knee, but was immediately up again, surging forward lustily. He broke into a full run, laboring through the deep snow. He heard the sound of Rochelle's car starting far behind him, and laughed to himself. How could she have left? Now he was alone with Jan. Maybe this was better, anyway. Maybe Jan gets it.

He arrived at the fork in the trail, and turned right, down toward the lake shore. Here, trudging through the snow was suddenly very much like making his way through the sand. He could feel it in his feet and in his thighs.

He came around the corner, between two snowy shrub-covered mounds, and saw Lake Michigan before him. It was indeed beautiful. The moon was somewhere behind him, to his right. He emerged into what seemed like an endless desert of snow. A wonderfully inviting desert. He saw Jan's form silhoutted against the snow, a ways down the beach. He ran towards her, and fell at her feet, on his back, laughing and looking up, quite out of breath. He was wondering how old she was, and picturing her as he had first seen her, at the party. She had been standing at the table, where the wine bottles were, talking to someone he didn't know. She was tall, and had kind of an odd face. A man's nose, and a sloped back forehead, accentuating her rather indelicate hairline.

He looked up at her. She was smiling down at him, clearly drinking it in as he did. He reached up and grabbed her calf, to his own surprise. She fell down on one knee, and at the same time he turned and struggled to his feet. She grabbed his arm and pulled herself back up.

They both stood for a while. The moon's light shone from behind the trees. There was total silence. No lapping waves. No wind through the trees, which were laden with snow. It was a clear, motionless night.

"Rochelle left. She doesn't get it. She went back to the party. You can't see the moon, can you?"

"No," said Jan. "It's behind the trees. That's a shame."

He looked for it, moving along the beach, and jumping up a bit. Then he started backing out, towards the open expanse of the snow-covered lake.

"Be careful," called Jan. "You can't tell where the line is."

Avery turned and stopped, looking down, then continued, a little more carefully. He placed one foot, testing it, then made another step. Then another, and another.

"Can't you see the moon yet?" asked Jan, her voice carrying effortlessly through the night.

Avery stopped and turned in place, then stood up on his toes. "No," he returned, also aware now that he did not have to raise his voice.

He continued further out.

"I guess it's frozen over," he said.

"It seems that way," said Jan from where she stood. "But don't you think that's far enough? What if you were to fall in?"

"Actually, the water's not that deep. When I've come swimming here, you could wade out forever, and it never got that deep."

So he continued, stopping every now and then to turn back and look for the moon. He got to be pretty far out. Perhaps a hundred feet. Then he turned and stopped. He could see the moon, and Jan could tell.

"How is it?" she asked.

He paused, looking up. His face was lit warmly in the glow. Jan crossed her arms, starting to feel the cold.

"Oh, you have to see it," called Avery. "It's just amazing." He turned a circle where he was, holding his arms out. "This!" he sang to the night. "This is the freedom I have sought, for so very long! Jan, you have to come see it."

"Oh, I can see it in your face. From here."

"No, you have to come out and look right up to the moon. It's the most beautiful sight in the world, its light defining the tops of the snow-covered trees. It's like nothing else."

"I believe you." She remained standing, her arms crossed.

"Come on out!"

"It's cold."

He looked back at her, standing her ground, and he just couldn't bear it.

"Why don't you join me?"

"What if it's not safe?"

He scoffed. "Not safe! Ha! Am I not standing here?"

"Well," she insisted, "I don't trust it."

"But I've proven it's safe." He stood looking back at her. "You're as bad as Rochelle," he continued. "You've got to understand what you're doing. You have to be able to live with reason."

"Oh, I am."

"Oh, and how so?"

"I just don't trust the ice."

"Oh, don't be silly. You could drive a truck on this ice."

Jan lowered her head and kicked at the snow.

"I'm telling you," persisted Avery, "it's fine. You can come out and see the moon, and then we'll go back."

With arms crossed, Jan started out onto the ice. She stepped in Avery's footsteps, taking large steps to do so. The snow on the lake was not as deep as it had been on the shore.

"Have you been ice fishing?" she asked, as she drew closer to Avery.

"A few times. With my dad, and my brothers. It sucked." Jan laughed, and Avery went on. "It was just windy and cold, and I had to take my gloves off to put the little crawly white things on the hook. I eventually gave up, and built a wall to hide behind. A low wall of snow, and I sat drinking cocoa, waiting for something--"

Crack. There was definitely a cracking sound. Jan stopped where she stood. Avery's story disappeared.

"Okay, I'm heading back," said Jan. "I almost saw the moon."

She turned slowly and stepped along in the same footsteps. Avery watched, his breath a bit short, expecting her to suddenly slip through the ice. But she didn't; she made it back just fine.

"Now," he said, "do I take the same path, or a different one?"

He looked to Jan, where she had resumed her post on the shore. Soon she realized that he actually expected an answer. He was actually waiting for some direction. Afraid.

"Um, I don't know," she replied.

"Well, no matter what, it's not that deep right?"

"Right," she said. "Like you said. You could wade forever."

The image of water up to his chest did not appeal to him.

"I'll try the same path. I mean, you made it back, right?"

He took a small step back towards the shore. His heart was pounding away rather speedily, deep inside his coat. Blood was rising to his head. Another step. He looked up. Jan stood waiting for him.

Another step. Then another, and crack--sploosh. His left leg went right through, his right knee suddenly up to his face. So fast. My god that was water against the back of his knee. Cold. He fell forward and grasped at the snow. There was nothing to grasp. He tried, but his gloves slipped over the snow. Again and again. His left thigh was wet, almost up to his crotch. He was starting to realize that he had pulled a muscle in his right leg. All so fast.

"Avery!"

"I'm okay! I'll be out--"

Again he reached out, but there was nothing. A flame of pain shot through his right leg. It was cramping. I've pulled something. He brought his arms underneath him to lift his torso and relieve the stress on his leg, but the ice supporting his waist started to give.

"Jan!"

She started out towards him. Her steps were slow. She didn't want to be doing this. She looked up. Somehow, he had lifted himself out, squirming forward. She stopped. He was desperately crawling away from the hole he'd made. She backed up, still unsure of where the ice became unsafe. He was making it. He was being careful now, she could tell.

Soon he was within reach, and she could help him. He did not reach for her, though. He made it right to her feet, and she stooped, lifting from beneath his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

He was breathless, gasping for air.

"Avery," she said forcefully, "we have to get you back to the car. You can't rest. Let me help you."

She bent down to lift him, but he did not cooperate. He could not. She lifted with all her might, nearly falling backwards. She managed to get him to his knees. From there, he was able to stand. He leaned on her as she got her footing, and they started back toward the path.

He groaned loudly in pain, and she felt as if she would crumple under his weight, but they made it. They climbed up the slope, between the mounds, to the path, then paused.

"Are you gonna be able to make it?" asked Jan, looking right into his face. He nodded, and started forward.

She helped him, and they managed. They pushed through the snow, trying to follow their same path. But he could not lift his legs. His feet dragged. They surged forward, plowed forward, then paused. Then started again. They were making good headway.

Then Jan lost her balance, and they both went down, he on top of her. He immediately rolled off, fully out of breath. "My leg... is... cold."

Jan struggled back up, stood for a moment, then grasped Avery's hand. Once he was up, they were on their way again. She slung his arm over her neck and just kept going and going. It seemed an awful distance back to the car, but they made it. Then collapsed.

"The keys," she said. "I'll start the car."

Avery looked up and saw that Rochelle's car was indeed gone. Only Jan's remained. He took a deep breath, and tugged off his right glove. He then opened his coat and reached for his pants pocket. He was shaking from exhaustion and weakness. He could only get his fingers into the pocket. The pants were too tight, and frozen with snow. And he was lying wrong. He arched his back, straining his aching leg, and pushed his cold fingers against the denim, crying out ferociously. It was futile.

"I can't get them," he said. He fell flat again, exhaling loudly from the strain and frustration.

Jan got up and walked over to him, then fell on her knees beside him. She too took off her glove. It was so cold out. Her whole upper body was sweaty, and the draft up her sleeve was wicked.

"I'm going to try to get them. Don't get too excited or anything." He snorted a laugh. She dug her fingers down into his pocket. But she couldn't reach the keys. She took her fingers out to feel from the outside, and located the keys. She moved around him a bit, trying to find the right angle. But her fingers were just too cold, and his pocket too tight. She gave up.

"Um," she started, then stopped.

"Should we. . ."

Their labored breathing defied the heavy silence.

"Can you undo your pants?" she asked.

He nodded. He tugged off his other glove, and undid his belt. He then arched his back again, the neck of his coat filling with snow, and worked his numb fingers at the button of his jeans. It finally came undone. Jan took it from there, pulling the zipper open, then starting to pull his pants right off. It was quick at first. His boxers were coming off with his jeans -- he could feel the snow-filled inside of his coat against his lower back. He grabbed at his boxers and pulled them back up. As Jan pulled the soaked pants over his ghastly bluish white thighs, it got tougher. The pants were bunching up. But at last, with his pants around his ankles, she was able to get into the pocket and get her keys out.

With them, she raced around the car to the driver's side, got in, and started the car. The V-8 rumbled to life. She then came around, opened the passenger's door, and helped Avery into the car. With his ass in the seat and his feet hanging out, she very carefully undid his boots and removed them. His socks were wet, and his feet terribly frigid. Then off came the pants, which she threw into the back of the car, and off came the wet socks, rolled down carefully over icy flesh. She swung his legs into the car. They were both conspicuously quiet throughout the process. She closed the door.

Around to her side, she got in, closed her own door, and stepped on the accelerator to heat the engine faster. Her foot still on the gas, she slid the heater lever to its highest setting and cranked the fan to full speed.

"Jan," said Avery, "I. . ."

"Be quiet. We're going to get your feet over here."

She leaned over and lifted his calves up, swinging his legs onto the front seat. He cried out, pressing himself against the door. He opened his eyes. Jan had her coat open, and was unbuttoning her blouse.

"Get that goddamned smile off your face." She lifted his wet frozen foot, the toes of which were clearly swollen, and placed it against her tummy. "This is the only time you'll ever see me opening my blouse for you." She covered the cold foot with her hands. "You're an absolute fool."

As his feet regained sensitivity, his breath grew very short and his eyes grew wide. He grabbed the edge of the front seat. Jan stepped on the throttle again. The heat was coming fast.

They stayed like that for quite a while, saying nothing. Both were exhausted. Avery kept looking to Jan for something, but she did not look up. Finally he simply closed his eyes, his mind spinning with pain, embarrassment, and the rush of having survived.

"I think you're okay now," said Jan softly. She lowered his foot, and he bent his knee and brought his feet in. "Do you think you're going to have to go to the hospital?"

"No. No, I don't think so. It hurts like hell, but that's because I've warmed up enough to feel it. I'm regaining circulation."

She turned and took the wheel. She put the car in gear, and they started off.

It was some time before either of them spoke. Avery was nursing his toes and his thigh, gently rubbing the skin to warm it up. He was thankful that it was not worse. Though his foot was throbbing now, he could feel that it was okay.

"I'm sorry, Jan."

"You should be."

"No, I mean I'm really sorry. I feel like an ass."

"Yep."

They continued in silence the rest of the way, to Avery's apartment, to which he gave the simplest of directions. Jan turned in to the driveway and stopped.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked. "I could make you a drink or something, to make up."

She put her head down on her arms, which rested against the steering wheel.

"Avery," she said, "when we left that party, I would have said yes in a second." She looked at him. He saw the same masculine nose and sloped forehead, but now he wanted that face to take care of him--to stay through the night.

"But now," she continued, "I think you'd better just go."

"But now that we've been through this... Besides, you came with me."

"No. As far as the shore, that was fine. But out on the ice, I should never have gone. I knew better. Rochelle was stupid not to come, but you were stupid to go too far."

Avery sat, waiting for something more. But there was nothing more, and he soon realized this. He reached around to the back of the car for his pants, collected his shoes and socks, and stepped out onto the cold driveway, making a terrible face of shock and anguish. Jan waited, to see that he got inside, then pulled out and drove home.