Christian Couples Counseling ~ HALEY NILSSON

Christian Couples Counseling

after Stuart Dybek

HALEY NILSSON

A boy and a girl are sitting on a boat in the middle of the lake. For now, the water is calm— there is no wake to disturb the gentle rocking of the boat, and a slight breeze is the only force that propels them as they drift further and further away from the shore. Up ahead in the distance, storm clouds are rolling in—but they need not contend with that now. For now, the engine is off, and the girl is slouched behind the steering wheel with her arms folded across her chest; she turns to the boy, squints her eyes, and makes a face at him, as the late-evening sunlight drenches her skin. “What’s wrong?” the boy teased. “I don’t see why you can’t just tell me how to get home from here,” she laughed, as she gave him a gentle shove. “Hey!” The boy exclaimed. “What if something happens to me and I can’t help you navigate?” he reasoned. “I think it’s important that you know how to do it yourself. And besides…” he shrugged, flashing her a sly grin. “... I don’t know where we are.” She rolled her eyes hoping that it might distract him from her smile. She shook her head. He had been going up to that lake with his family every summer since he was five; he had told her that he once memorized the map of the entire lake, but she knew he could practically tell one island apart from another based on the trees that grew in its soil. This was her first time on the lake, and only her second time driving a boat. Nonetheless, he pulled a map out from under his seat, and held it out for her. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically, as she took it from his hands. She unfolded the map, and looked around. As she traced the wrinkled paper with her fingertips, she turned to the right, and saw what seemed like endless water that was bound only by pine trees and rocks in the distance. Feeling disoriented, she turned to her left, where a familiar group of cottages along the shore met her gaze. One of them belonged to the pastor, who had invited the young couple to dinner that night. Staring at the house, the girl saw herself, the boy, the pastor, and his wife sitting around a small oak table all holding hands as they said Grace. The pastor led the prayer, first thanking God for the blessing of having enough to eat; as she listened to him speak the girl realized that she had forgotten that many others in the world were starving; the pastor then praised the Lord for providing him and his wife the company of such a wonderful couple, whose love, pure and honest as it was, was quite unusual for a pair as young as they were. She thought that she had felt the boy gently squeeze her hand in response; she had forgotten how much she loved him. Sitting at that table, she immediately felt bad about the argument they had had before dinner—they had spent close to an hour bickering over how they would get to the pastor’s house. The girl wanted to take the Ford—though it was sunny before they left, she had seen a thunderstorm warning on the news, and argued that it would be safer to drive. The boy dismissed her proposal and said that they should take the Whaler—it’s a beautiful night, he said, the weather is perfect for a boat ride, he said.

The girl felt a single raindrop hit the tip of her nose. She hadn’t realized how long she had been staring at the pastor’s cottage. Now it’s drizzling, and the glimmer in her eyes seemed to say I told you so when she looked at him. But now she didn’t really mind the rain; After all, she had loved him for over a year now, and knew that their days were numbered; come fall, she would return to her home in Virginia, and leave the boy behind. Either growing impatient, or realizing that, if left to her own devices, they would never get home, the boy smiled and said, “Here, want some help?” She nodded, and the boy took his arm around her shoulder, lacing his fingers in between hers, and guided her finger across the page. He stopped when they reached a blue space labeled Bear Cove. “So, we’re here,” he said. “What direction do we have to go to get back?” She thought about it for a minute before nodding her head forward and to the left. She took it as a sign of affirmation when he planted a kiss on her cheek, so she pulled the throttle down, and started off southeast at 25 knots per hour. Before long, they had reached the inlet, and stood on the platform in the boathouse to dock. The wind had just picked up, and the water that was once calm began to rock the boat as it filtered into the boathouse. Struggling to keep the boat from floating away into the rip current, she tied the bow line while he did the stern. She wrapped it around the post once, before tying four tight knots—she knew that she only needed two, and the boy, who had finished tying off, stood behind her, waiting for her to let go of the line. When she felt that the boat was secure, she turned around. He pulled her in by the waist, and kissed her. She looked up at him. “I love you,” she said, before she buried her face into his chest. His embrace grew tighter. “I don’t want you to leave.” The current began to subside, and the boat stopped tugging against the line.