The Lake

***Content Warning: domestic verbal and physical abuse***

 

There were whispers among the women of the village. Asta wondered if the rumors about the lake were true. It was said that any man who entered the lake was never seen again. Surely, they couldn’t be, but even her best friend Sunitha claimed them as true.

 

Their village had a higher incidence of men going missing, but men out whoring and fighting could surely explain it, couldn’t it? Asta pondered the rumors as she strolled through the market. She bought bread and mutton from the butcher.

 

She was going to make her husband, Eliav, some mutton stew like her mother used to make. He was sure to be hungry after a long day in the blacksmith's shop. She hurried home so she could start the meal.

 

Asta cut the vegetables from her garden and the mutton into bite-sized pieces and placed them in the pot, along with the bone and some water. She added a bit of salt, garlic, and some bay leaves to the broth. The stew needed to be perfect.

She was tending to the stew when Eliav came through the door.

 

“Hello, husband, I am making a hearty mutton stew for supper,” she greeted him warmly. He grunted in her direction as he removed his boots inside the door. Asta lowered her gaze and clasped her hands in front of her apron as he brushed past her on his way to the washroom to clean up.

 

He was soaked with sweat and covered in soot from his hard work. He was a horse of a man with the temperament of a jackass.

She turned back to the stew. She spooned a piece of the mutton out to test the tenderness; it fell apart when prodded with a spoon. She pulled the stew off the hearth and set it aside while she heated the bread on a hot, flat stone.

 

“Eliav, the stew is done, and I am just heating the bread now. Supper will be ready very soon,” she called down the hall.

 

“I’ll be there in a bit, woman. Don’t rush me!” he growled from the back of the house. She winced.

 

While he finished up, she ladled the soup into bowls and cut the bread. She set the bowls at opposite ends of the table. He re-emerged from the back of the house dressed in a clean shirt and slacks, and his hair was damp.

 

“Supper is ready,” she said in a soft voice as she gestured to his bowl on the table. He grunted once more at her as he dumped himself into his chair. Asta took her seat only after her husband took his.

 

She quietly sipped the broth from her spoon and took small bites of the stew. Eliav ate his stew as voraciously as a hungry animal. Suddenly, his spoon clattered into his bowl. He pulled something from his mouth and held it up to her.

 

“What is this, you stupid woman?” he asked slow and precise, waiting for Asta to make a move. Asta swallowed hard, and she tried to keep her eyes from going wide like a frightened prey animal.

 

She thought she had extracted all the bay leaves from the stew before she served it. Eliav hated finding the bay leaves in his food. He did not mind the flavor, but he hated the actual leaves. Asta straightened up just a hair before she responded to him.

 

“I am sorry, Eliav, I thought I had removed all the leaves. I can fetch you another bowl,” she mumbled as she kept her gaze low. She knew what was coming. It always came. No matter what she did or didn’t do, it was never good enough. He let out a snarl and chucked the bowl across the room. It shattered with a crack against the wall, leaving a mess of sharp ceramic pieces and bits of stew all down the wall and the floor.

 

Asta jumped when the ceramic bowl exploded against the wall. It had been over ten years since they were married. You’d think she’d have gotten used to the outbursts, insults, and broken things. She kept her eyes averted when she quickly and quietly fetched the broom to clean the mess.

 

As she bent down to begin to sweep up the stew and shards of bowl, Eliav caught her by the throat and shoved her against the stone wall. She let out a yelp, and the broom slipped from her grip and clattered to the floor. Eliav pressed his face dangerously close to hers as his hand pressed her neck against the wall.

 

“This is the last time you make this mistake, isn’t it?” Asta gulped and lightly nodded. That, of course, didn’t satisfy her husband, so he reiterated, “Isn’t it?” as he slammed the back of her head against the wall. Black spots bloomed across her vision.

Asta yelped again and tried to reply despite his fingers crushing her throat, “Yes, husband, this is the last time.” Eliav gave a smirk and then let her go.

 

“Yes, it will be the last time, or you will be even sorrier than you are now,” he said in a low growl. He slapped her across the face hard enough her head lurched to one side, a welt immediately making itself visible. “Let that be a reminder to you before you fuck up again. Now, clean this shit up or you will receive worse,” he called as he turned on his heel and headed into the other room.

 

She dropped to her knees to clean the mess. Pausing for a moment, she gingerly touched the bruise that bloomed over her cheek and eye. Tears welled up behind her eyes, but she didn’t dare cry. She knew she’d get much worse if she cried. She let a single tear escape and then steeled her resolve to finish cleaning the mess.

 

After she swept the large pieces of the bowl and the stew, she got out the mop and bucket to clean the broth off the floor and scrubbed the walls. As she cleaned, she wondered how she got here and wondered what she should do. What could she do? He was her husband.

 

When she finished cleaning, and the kitchen was spotless once more, she retired to the living room to work on the socks she was knitting while her husband read.

 

The next day, after Eliav had gone to work, Sunitha had come for tea between chores. She saw the bruise that painted Asta’s face.

 

“Oh Asta!” she cried as she embraced her. “You must do something with that beast of a man!” Asta looked down into her tea as if it held answers to what to do.

 

“I know, but what can I do? If I leave, he will probably kill me, and if I kill him, I will go to jail.” Sunitha gave her a knowing look.

 

“I’ve told you. You must go to the lake on the north side of town. There you will find the help you seek!”

 

“Ask for help from who? The fish?!” Asta shrugged. Sunitha gave her a wink.

 

“Surely you must be kidding.”

 

“You will see. I will even go with you. How do you think I rid myself of Henry?”

 

“I thought he has left town with a mistress?”

 

“That was just the story I told everyone. He very well could have since he whored his way around town whenever he could, but no one would ever know. All I know is he will never come back to hurt me. Or anyone else.” Asta raised an eyebrow at Sunitha. “Trust me, Asta, there is help to be had in the lake.”

 

“Okay, you crazy old woman,” she sighed. They both laughed.

 

After she did her daily chores the following morning, Asta met Sunitha in the town square. They walked arm in arm through town and chatted.

 

“Sunitha, are you sure this is going to work?” Sunitha smiled.

 

“Of course it will. Trust me.” She patted Asta’s arm. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the lake.

 

“Well, we are here. Now what do I do?”

 

“Go down to the water’s edge and tell the lake what you need help with,” Sunitha explained. Asta gave her a skeptical look. “Just go.” She nudged her toward the lake. Asta sighed, unconvinced.

 

“Okay,” she sighed again. She shrugged and padded down to the water’s edge. She paused a moment and looked back at Sunitha. “This is silly!” Sunitha just gave her a dismissive wave as if to say just do it! Asta rolled her eyes and sighed once more, then she cleared her throat and began to speak.

 

“Uh, hello, lake,” she paused. “I need some help. My husband hits me.” She wrung her hands in front of her. “He is cruel and hurtful. He gave me a black eye only yesterday.”

 

Nothing happened. She looked back to her friend on the bank, and Sunitha gestured for her to keep speaking.

 

“I need help to get rid of him before he kills me. I don’t want to die by his hand nor continue to simply exist under his thumb. He must be dealt with, and I fear I do not have the strength to do it myself.” Asta waited a few moments and still nothing happened. She looked back at Sunitha once more.

 

“You must be patient, my friend.” Asta nodded to her. She’d do just about anything to be free of Eliav’s iron fist.

 

After a few minutes, she saw a line of bubbles coming to shore. She couldn’t see what was making the bubbles, but suddenly a shell with a pearl in the center appeared at the shoreline. Asta looked to Sunitha for guidance, and she came down to the water’s edge.

 

“They will help you, that’s what this means,” she said as she bent down to pick the shell and pearl up. She looked it over and handed it to Asta. “This is a good thing.” She patted Asta’s arm.

 

“They? I still don’t understand. What am I to do now?”

 

“Bring that beast of yours down to the water, and all will be taken care of.”

 

“If you are sure.”

 

“I am.”

 

“I hope you are right. I don’t think I can take much more.”

 

Sunitha put her arm around her and ushered her back up the bank to the road. They walked to town in silence as Asta rolled the shell and pearl over in her hands, inspecting them. They parted once they reached the town square. She pondered on what life would be like without Eliav. No more broken things, no more black eyes, no more yelling, and no more being forced to bend to his will. She could be free, at last.

 

When Eliav came home that night, she brought up having a picnic.

 

“Oh, Eliav, wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a picnic near the lake at the north end of town? This time of year is so nice, and we could even catch some fish for supper! It’s been so long since we’ve had some! What a shame it would be to waste such a glorious time of year.” he just grunted in her direction.

 

“When?”

 

“Oh, I was thinking tomorrow, if you can get away from the blacksmith shop, even just for a little while.”

 

“Fine,” he grumbled. So, it was set. They would go to the lake tomorrow and it would be their last picnic. Asta just hoped she could get through the night; she was anxious to get this over with.

 

Eliav woke early the next morning to run down to the shop to finish a few things before they set off for the afternoon at the lake. That gave her time to do all the morning chores and pack a lunch for them. She made tomato sandwiches. They were her favorite, but he hated them. In fact, he hated most of the things she liked. She stifled a yawn with her hand. Sleep did not come to her last night. Her body was buzzing with anticipation and worry about how today would go. She figured she’d pack something that Eliav didn’t like so the lake could see that it really was helping her and witness firsthand how awful he was. She also packed a bottle of the finest mead she could afford.

 

Once her husband returned home, he washed quickly, and they departed for their destination. As they passed through town, she noticed Eliav eyeing Makellah Rinas, the 16-year-old daughter of Tecklah and Edward Rinas. When Makellah saw him, she blushed and turned away. He smirked to himself and thought that his wife could not see. Keeping her observation to herself, she also realized she was helping other women, too. She knew he had been unfaithful; she was just glad to be rid of him when he was out hounding.

 

Once they arrived at the shores of the lake, she set a blanket down just a few feet from the water’s edge. She wanted to be as close to the water as she could. Eliav set his fishing pole down to remove his boots and stockings so he could stand just in the water to fish. There was a small natural ledge before the lake dropped off into the deep.

 

Asta pulled a canteen out of the basket and took a swig of water. She watched her husband fish a bit.

 

“Woman, I’m hungry. Where is my lunch?” he called to her over his shoulder from the edge of the water. She took a deep breath and fished one of the tomato sandwiches out of the basket. She padded down to the water.

 

“Here you are,” she said as she handed it to him. He took a bite and almost immediately spat it into the water.

 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked tightly. “I hate tomatoes. You know this. Why do you continue to antagonize me with your complete incompetence and stupidity?”

 

“I am sorry, Eliav, I forgot.”

 

“You forgot? Do you enjoy being smacked? Is this why you ‘forget’ so many things?” he mocked her. As he was berating her, she saw a line of bubbles making their way to where he was standing in the water. She couldn’t help but smirk. He eyed her, incredulous. “Do you think this is funny?” Asta tried to hide the steadily blooming smile from her face, but she failed as she watched the bubbles meander closer. Eliav wound his hand up and backhanded her across the face, hitting her already sore black eye. She laughed. He looked at her in disbelief. He went to hit her again for her insubordination, but she caught his wrist with her hand. She looked him directly in the face.

 

“That was the last time you will ever hit me, Eliav.” As the bubbles were nearly upon him, Asta gave her husband a hard shove and he fell back into the deeper water. He sunk beneath the surface and then reappeared, sputtering.

 

“Are you fucking insane?! When I get out of this lake," he growled, "you'll regret it severely.

 

“No, I don’t think I will,” she whispered as the bubbles stopped just behind him. Suddenly, he was dragged under the surface of the water. She could see him struggling in the murky depths. He breached the surface, gasping for air and grasping for an invisible rescue rope.

 

“Help me!”

 

“No, I’m only helping me,” she said as she gave him a dismissive wave. He couldn’t believe it.

 

Behind him, a beautiful woman rose out of the water silently. Her skin was a pearlescent grayish blue. The scales on her skin formed intricate patterns, but they weren't all-encompassing. She was terrifying, yet beautiful at the same time. Triangle-shaped fins sat where her ears would be and amber eyes glittered from under long lashes. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She also had what looked to be a luminescent patch on the side of her jaw. Asta could also see gill slits across the front of her neck.

 

Beyond this first woman, she could see several other women emerging out of the water as far as just below their eyes to watch the spectacle. From what she could see, they all looked similar to this first woman. Eliav was so consumed with giving Asta the death glare that he didn't notice the woman bobbing silently behind him.

 

“You BITCH!” he screamed at her, spittle flying from his lips.

 

That is when the woman moved. The first woman’s face opened up just below her jawline. That’s when Asta realized the iridescence she saw on the woman’s jaw was actually an eye. The sleek line of her jaw was her mouth.

 

The beautiful human woman’s face was a sort of camouflage instead of her actual face. The eyes, lips, and nose were just clever decoys. She opened her jaw wide to expose large, sharp teeth. They had to be at least two inches long. She partially jumped out of the water, which revealed her scaly tail. Her taloned, webbed hands grasped Eliav on his head and chest as she clamped her jaw around his shoulder and pulled him beneath the surface, screaming.

 

Suddenly, the water began to roil and bubble with the force of the violence below. It was the fervor of a feeding frenzy. All Asta could see were bubbles, flashes of light reflecting the creatures below, and the sudden plume of red in the middle of the uproar.

 

Then all was still. The only thing she could see now was the red smudge burgeoning further in the water from the depths. In the center rose a tattered and shredded piece of the plaid shirt Eliav had been wearing. Asta buried her face in her hands and wept. She… she was free.

 

She couldn’t believe it. Her weeps turned into sobs which grew into laughter. Hearty laughs bubbled from her chest at her newfound freedom as she made her way back up the bank to where the blanket and basket sat. She sat down and extracted the mead from the basket. Wiping her eyes with the hem of her skirt, she opened the bottle. She took a big swig and smiled. It was sweet, yet strong. She then unwrapped the other tomato sandwich she had packed and barked out another fit of laughter she failed to stifle with her hand.

 

Tears welled up again, threatening to wet her cheeks once more. She took a deep breath and just gazed out over the lake. He was really gone. She took a bite of the sandwich and drank more of her mead.

 

Once she finished her lunch, she laid back on the wool blanket and watched the clouds lazily meander their way across the blue sky. Everything looked a little brighter and more colorful now.

 

She wondered to herself as she lay there, What am I going to do now? She smiled to herself.

 

Anything I damn well please, she thought.