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heading toward the island. She clicked, and I was afraid for a second that she’d gotten a white foot in the corner, but when she displayed the image, it was just ruffled water.
    “Well, shit! What is it about that damn bird?”
    I was wondering exactly the same thing. We both looked after it for a long moment, but it didn’t resurface. Feeling very strange, I turned back to my cooler, closing the drain spout and then pushing it in place. The woman searched her camera’s memory, but the photo was gone. I dumped my new bag of ice into the cooler, and then, because I was a gentleman, offered her a soda. She took one and joined me at my table. In a way I was glad, because the last thing I wanted to do right then was think.
    Wanting to get the subject off the loon, I typed I’m Kyle. From Boston.
    “I’m Sue. From Jersey. College dropout, waitress, and very lonely.”
    Master’s Degree. Financial systems analyst ,I typed. And then, I had no idea why—perhaps for convenience or something more, something that had just changed—I added and gay .
    “Well, shit,” she said. Then she flushed and laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant, you know, how it always seems like the best ones are gay.”
    I let myself grin. God, I hoped she was right. Because I had a feeling I was about to get involved in something far stranger than all the strange things that had happened to me combined.
    Was I really gay? A deep part of me had always known I could be, under the right circumstances. Circumstances I realized I’d been waiting for. Circumstances that might be swimming toward the island right now.
    Sue chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about her jerky ex. I did a lot of nodding and agreeing with her, and finally she headed out with her camera and her can of soda. She was in site two on the far side of the beach. I could come visit her anytime, and we should meet on the beach later. She gave me a hug before she left, and I could tell she meant it. Apparently a mute, gay, hot guy for a friend was way better than yet another sex partner.
    I rose, feeling a bit bemused by all the sudden changes, and went into the tent to switch my shorts for my bathing trunks and put on some sunscreen, since I knew my pale skin would burn horribly if the sun came out from behind the misty clouds. I grabbed a towel and a bottle of water. My phone fit into my back pocket. I thought about leaving it behind, but not being able to communicate if I needed to freaked me out a little. Though I suspected written words weren’t going to do me much good. Then I headed for the boats.
    I was pretty sure I had a date with a loon behind the island.

Chapter Three
     
     
    I FOUND the paddles and life jackets right where Hal had said they’d be, in a little wooden building on the edge of the sand near where seven aluminum canoes, three rowboats, and two paddleboats were resting. I’d read up on canoes, so I chose a wooden paddle that was a little longer than my torso, took a second one because it was recommended in case you dropped one overboard, took a cushion for my knees, buckled on a blue life jacket, and walked over to the boats. I was glad the beach was deserted. Somehow I had the feeling that just having read about how to paddle a canoe wasn’t going to be quite the same as knowing how to do it. Reassuring myself that I did know how to swim—a little—my phone was in a watertight case, and the lake was dead calm, I rolled over the nearest canoe and dragged it to the water. It floated reassuringly when I pushed it in. That was a good sign.
    Now I needed to determine which was the bow and which was the stern. I studied the boat. Both ends were pointed. There were two aluminum seats. There were three aluminum bars going across the boat. Thwarts , they were called. The upper edges of the boat were gunwales, because they had once been used to support guns. But they were pronounced “gunnels.” I did not have a gun. I rubbed my eyes.