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Dinner at the table was like any other picnic anywhere in America. The only thing that jolted me back to the reality of this place was the shout of, “Hey Bill, ya’all wanna pitch some shoes after dinner?” from two naked men in their late forties that walked by the table. The laughter of everyone at the table to my reaction of looking at their packages made me blush. “That’s perfectly normal sweetie,” Lauren’s gracious Mom said, adding, “there wasn’t much to see was there?” That was true, but I was shocked she said it. “Well that was a good dinner, thanks Hon,” her Dad said as he rose from the table popping open another beer. “I am going down to the pits to throw with the boys for a while. I am glad you could join us Abbey.” Tommy, Lauren’s brother, got up from the table saying, “I am going for a swim up at the lodge pool, anyone is welcome to join me.” I remember thinking he was really talking to me. I felt like the entire time we were eating supper, Tommy had been picturing me. In the evenings we sometimes got together with friends of hers. I enjoyed getting to know them and was pleased to find a couple of baseball fans in the group. When I was able to talk one-on-one with someone, we were surprised by what we didn’t know about Callie. ‘Isn’t it funny,’ I said to a girl named Amber one night, ‘how King’s Bay is never crowded? Not even on the big days like Fourth of July? It’s like there’s some kind of force field around the place.’ Amber didn’t laugh like I thought she would. ‘I have noticed,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I think only certain people can come here, and only if Callie lets them.’ She was silent for a moment and then shook her head, chuckling. ‘Listen to me. I think I’ve had too much wine.’ I gave a quiet laugh and nodded as though I agreed. The idea was too far-fetched to take seriously, but it seemed plausible at night in King’s Bay. One night as I getting ready to go see Callie the next day, my parents called. I’d been talking to them every week or.
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