Lake Wazee
written by: Diane Dachota
Francis pulled down the long driveway, her car shuddering over the long cracks and the weeds that grew two feet tall in the ruts. The cottage was still standing, but no one had been here for years, and the place looked dark and hunched close to the ground. She didn’t expect to see anyone here so late in the fall, but sure enough, the next-door neighbor, Ted Jansen, stood in front of the door like he was waiting for her. “Francis, is that you?” he yelled, the old bugger could barely hear. “I thought the place was deserted,” he said, “I sent a note to the county that maybe they should go ahead and tear it down, no offense.” Francis sighed, “The kids are busy, and I haven’t been able to get here, but you have no business reporting us to the county, Ted.” Ted was always a busybody, but since the death of his wife, Jenny, he had become downright unfriendly. “Well, I don’t know what to say, Francis, you should take care of your property. Part of the roof caved in there on the side last winter, it’s dangerous to all of us on the lake.” Francis got out of the car and pulled out her shopping bag. “How is it dangerous to you, Ted? Please mind your own business.”
She didn’t look back as she turned the key in the lock and stepped into the cottage. It smelled like mildew and mold, and dust motes swirled up from the ground as she stepped. She saw where the ceiling had a big hole, right over the main bedroom, but she wasn’t planning on sleeping there anyway. She was here on a mission and would just sleep on the sofa for the one night. She wanted to get out on the lake while it was still light, so she grabbed the bunch of flowers and her sweatshirt and headed to the small shed in the back. The old paddles were still leaning against the wall, though the wood had warped and the bright red handles were now gray. She pulled her sleeves over her hands so she wouldn’t get splinters and dragged the paddles behind her to grab the canoe, which still hung on the wall. Sure enough she heard Ted shuffling behind her, and he took one side of the canoe while she grabbed the other. “Don’t know if you can still use this,” he said, “Probably got all kind of holes.” “It looks fine to me, Ted,” she said, “Thanks for your help, and I don’t plan on going out for long.” She had to laugh. That was the thing with country people, they report you to the county one minute and help you the next. They dragged the canoe to the bank, and she stumbled a bit as she stepped in, and her knee nearly gave out. “Goddamn knee,” she muttered. Ted handed her the paddles and her bouquet of flowers and pushed her out. The day was warm and sunny even at nearly four, and the water looked cool and flat, ‘like a sheet of glass,’ Leo used to say when they took the canoe out. Francis was never much for going out on the canoe or the old boat they used to have, but Leo loved it, sometimes it seemed he was only happy out on the water. She glanced back to the bank and thought about the day Leo bought the cottage, without telling her, of course, and he promised her a surprise, bought a picnic basket and champagne. He was so solicitous as he helped her out of the car, her arm was in a sling, and he held onto her as they walked to the back of the cottage. “Surprise, baby, I bought this place for us. Isn’t it beautiful?” She remembered having no reaction at all, she couldn’t tell if this was a good thing or bad, but still she smiled, and when he pulled out a blanket for the picnic, she let him lower her to the ground as he opened the champagne. “Leo, Leo,” she muttered, now taking a deep breath as she rowed among the fragrant pine trees that reached out to the water with their branches as if pointing the way. Lake Wazee is the deepest lake in Wisconsin. It is technically an artificial lake as it was water that flowed through an old quarry. It was named Wazee by the Hochunk Indians, and it meant Tall Pines. She read that Lake Wazee is 350 feet deep and that nothing that falls into the lake every comes back up.
A cool breeze rustled through the trees, and she closed her eyes for a few minutes and let herself drift. The weather was still warm, but soon it would get cold, and she thought about one cold November weekend when she and her kids came up in the middle of the night, her car sliding and drifting on the icy roads. The kids stayed sound asleep in the back as she blinked back tears and tried to stay awake. She knew he would find them eventually, but she had hidden his keys in the back of her closet, and it would take him a while. No one else came here in the winter in those days, and the kids woke crabby and crying as she carried them into the cold bedrooms. He never did come to find them, but she only had enough food for two days, so they drove back on their own, came back to a bouquet of red roses, little presents for the kids. He even ordered pizza, which made the kids happy, and when she said she had a headache, he told her to go to bed, he would take care of them for the night.
She finally saw the spot, where a sideways Jack Pine dipped all the way into the water. The trees were most beautiful this time of year, the red and yellow leaves from the maples mixed with the eternal green of the firs. The day had gone mostly silent except for the occasional squawk from the ducks on the rocky part of the bank. She looked down at the gray water and imagined she could almost see his face, his handsome square jaw, his bright blue eyes. She dropped the bouquet of red roses into the water and whispered “Happy Anniversary” and watched as the small waves carried the flowers down the lake. It would have been 30 years today. She ran her hand over the crack on the paddle, and thought of another anniversary, years ago, when the fall day had been just as warm, and they came up here just the two of them. He had been drinking all day and insisted on a canoe ride, and he was so calm right before. She almost thought it would be OK, it might be different this time, this night. He was humming one of their songs, and the night was warm and breezy, and as they slid underneath the big white moon, she glanced at her little finger, which would be forever crooked, and she lifted the oar and swung. He didn’t fall right away, and he looked at her so surprised, he said, “Fran?” And then she pushed him out and almost fell herself as the canoe rocked violently to the side. At the last moment, she caught hold of the edge and avoided going in, and didn’t watch as he sank and sank into the deep water.
After she watched the flowers drift away, she rowed back to the bank and was relieved to see that Ted was nowhere around. She pulled the canoe up on the bank and stiffly climbed out, she would need that knee replacement soon. Tomorrow, she would figure out what to do with the place, it had been falling apart for too long.
The paddles went back into the shed, and she was too tired to lift the canoe, so she tied it to the post and lay down on the dusty sofa and fell asleep. In her dreams, she saw the green branches of the Jack Pine wrap themselves around Leo and create for him a bed as it pulled him to the very bottom of the lake. And she cried.
- Lake Wazee - February 9, 2026
- When The Lights Came - September 5, 2025
