Dead Things in the WaterSubmitted by Ducky at 2005-08-10 07:20:19 EDT
Rating: 1.95 on 65 ratings (65 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
It’s been a ridiculously hot summer. We’re averaging between 35 and 40 degrees Celsius here lately, and there’s been no reprieve in weeks. My city is completely surrounded by lakes though, and this year I’ve made it my goal to swim in as many of them as I can. Until last week I hadn’t checked out the largest (and incidentally the closest) of the lot. One reason being because there isn’t a single scrap of shade surrounding it, and the other reason being that in certain points, the depth of the lake has yet to be determined…this bothers me.
Due to its depth, it provides convenient dumping grounds for unwanted things. In this area people tend to be lazy when it comes to this, ultimately leading to items being dumped into the river, which eventually drains into the lake. When the river is really low however, these ‘items’ often find themselves washing up onto the shores before reaching their final destination (three dead prostitutes last year, along with numerous non-human things, i.e. bags of kittens and whatnot). Maybe it’s the sick side of me, but I can’t help thinking about all the years when the river hasn’t been low. Exactly how many dead things will I be sharing this lake with? More importantly, how many HUMAN dead things?? I don’t particularly feel like coming face to face with some slimy decomposing smack whore while I’m diving underwater. The thought of that makes me think of the underwater scene in Big Trouble in Little China…you know the one, with the rotting dead people and the chains and stuff. Man, how badass is Kurt Russell anyways? Oh man. If you don’t remember that scene, you need to re-watch the movie. When I first saw it as a kid, it gave me nightmares and made me scream bloody murder and wet the bed for months.
So a couple of days ago, I get nervy and decide to bite the bullet and take a dip in this particular lake. I grab a friend of mine, and off we go. After a short 20-minute hike in, we’re there. The water is the perfect temperature, and it does a great job in cooling us off. A nice breeze picks up, and that’s when the smell hits me. It smells like something dead. Salmon? No, it’s too early in the year. My friend notices it too, and since we were pretty much done anyways, we get out of the water and start walking along the shore. I notice something not too far off in the distance, half submerged; the smell is getting stronger, and soon we’re covering our faces with our towels.
As we get closer, it becomes clear. It’s a fucking horse. A ripe, bloated, stinking, been-here-for-minimum-2-weeks, fucking horse. Upon discovering Tonto, what does my friend want to do? Of course, she wants to get closer.
“Fuck that, you go ahead”.
I really don’t want to get graphic (the hell I don’t), but chunks of flesh were missing all over the place, and you could see where birds or something had completely torn its ass wide open. Kind of like horse goatse. Like exactly. So I back away while she creeps forward. She gets within two feet of it, and then turns to say something to me.
But she doesn’t.
Oh no. Instead, her flip-flop catches on a rock and throws her off balance. She reels backwards and lands directly on top of the bloody thing. Floundering, she screams for me to help her. I should help her. I know I should help her. But I don’t. I can't. I’m too busy staring at her and mastering the art of being a pussy.
Once she’s up, she staggers towards me. We don’t talk; we just walk silently to my car (which fucking stinks like dead horse now thanks to her…febreeze works wonders on animal smells though, right? I think I’m going to need a lot of it, either that or sell the car). I will not be swimming in that lake again.