The Lake | Teen Ink

The Lake

February 18, 2014
By MaiaKoryn GOLD, Playa Del Carmen, Other
MaiaKoryn GOLD, Playa Del Carmen, Other
10 articles 64 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly? -Frida Kahlo


A toy car, sun scorching off its tin-can roof
Methodically inching its way to freedom, perhaps. Or probably Heaven.
Inside flimsy, air-conditioned doors, excitement rages; a bubble expanding, doubling, as Heaven, sweating on haunches, approaches
Maybe your Aunt Verna should have bought that plastic curio, "Life Stops Here", bearing the much less than extravagant pseudonym, "the Lake".
And then a great mass- a jumbled assortment- of proud, yet not quite regal, mountains, flanked by a vast stretch of bleu, glorious bleu.
And our bubble bursts.
Miscreants, mischievous villans of loud, or just plain "kids" (whichever you prefer)
Butts-out-of-seats and as rowdy and riotous as an excited mob, we sing and laugh as we are enveloped, swallowed whole, into the best five days of the year.

One-hundred and twelve, sun-kissed and fried faces
But we dance into the night, and the outside world is gone
Five days of time-travel, or maybe I should say time-freeze; hours slip through our fingers like grains of diluted sand
And somehow the world still turns round
While we go to Heaven and back.

"Who is buying today?" we chatter to each other, for ice cream is the only way to beat the heat.
Counting out softly crumpled dollar bills and reluctantly handed over change,
Our foursome settles onto plastic chairs with flies and discarded Tecate cans, along with the reminisce of a breakfast that was quickly stuffed down, the sooner we could get to the water.

A deep rumbling seeps from the back of the boat
And Derek drives.
Wind whipping our cheeks into crusted brown
While chapstick is incessantly pressed into valleys of fiery red lips
And we all embrace one another in a shared love when the grapevine whispers it is time for the boat again
Somehow we grew up
Us and our silly phrases and immodest bikinis and that let-loose sort of dancing we all enjoy
As we balance and the boat is fast and sticky lemonade trickles down our arms while pop tunes drown out our voices
This is The Lake


The author's comments:
As the oldest of six kids, family is important to me, and an annual trip to a lake in the States is a testimony to my unconditional love for that riotous crowd. Adopted family members and blood relatives fly out from Rome, LA, San Francisco, Mexico, and a vast number of other cities, each bringing with ourselves a spirit to whoop it up in the biggest, rowdiest party week I've ever seen. Hundreds of our gang rent out the motel nestled in the breast of the lake, the only place within forty kilometers of the water and not another face in sight. Although I've seen places far more pristine and picturesque than the Lake, I find it my favorite time of the year; it isn't where you are, it's who you're with. And I couldn't be better equipped for a good time than with the most genuine, worldly, out-of-the-box bunch that is my family. In our wake is piles of discarded, bee-infested beer cans, broken sandal straps, and the mysterious, inevitable disappearance of everyone's ping-pong balls...

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