The boys disappeared in an instant. All that could be seen was a ghostly wall of water washing down the canal. The giant ray of light from the lighthouse revealed nothing. Then, almost miraculously, all three boys toppled out of the storm, now separated by yards. They lay flat on their faces as the tail of the wave swept over them. When they lifted their heads, looks of pure fright graced their faces. The monster wave had stopped in mid-stream and now it began its determined return to the sea. The quarterback curled into a ball and steadied himself for the onslaught. Tommy Robek dove for a lamppost. He hugged it with all of his might. Pudge Abercrombie raced for another lamppost across the way, but he didn’t make it. He went toppling down the walkway with the outbound water, somersaulting toward the lighthouse. When the wave was in full retreat, Jack and Tommy staggered down the walkway after him and retrieved their buddy Pudge just before he could be swept into the night. Now the three boys locked arms, the famous flying wedge, and they stumbled along the walkway as fast as their heavily sodden legs would carry them, trying to beat the next oncoming wave. At last, with only seconds to spare, they collapsed on their backs before the lift bridge. They were shivering. Coughing and swearing. Savage lake water swept under their heels.
After catching their collective breath, it was Jack Start who spoke first. “Well, that was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” He spit lake water from his lungs.
Pudge Abercrombie lay on his back staring up at a heaven teeming with rage. He was laughing, but it was a cold and bitter laugh. “Goddamn, that was the best.” He fished a soggy pack of Marlboros from his jacket pocket and stuck a wet one between his lips. “In our entire lives we’ll never again see waves like this.”
So now, beneath the silvery-blue lights of the lift bridge, in the swampy black water left by Lake Superior, lay the three boys. They stared out at the long canal. They were wet and freezing. Beaten and exhausted. They had a buzz on from the beers. But they had challenged the great lake, and they had won.
It was the pugnacious Pudge Abercrombie whose voice finally cut through the icy storm. “I want to do it again.”
Jack Start turned to him. The wind was in his face. “You’re crazy.”
“No, seriously. I want to go again. I feel unbeatable tonight.”
“I wish I had felt unbeatable last night.”
“I’m not thinking about that,” Pudge yelled.
Jack Start had to scream to be heard over the storm. “Yes, you are. That’s all you’re thinking about…a football game, and a girl. There’s more to life, Pudge.”
Pudge Abercrombie got to his feet and began walking down the ship canal with the look of a man on a mission. A man obsessed. He turned to his friend, the limp cigarette dangling from his lips, the hellish lake framing his visage. “She wanted you to ask her out. She wanted to go to the dance with you. But you wouldn’t ask her…because you’re my best friend.” The words
Jack sat up. “Who told you that?”
Pudge looked at Tommy Robek. Then Jack looked over at Tommy Robek. All the skinny kid could do was shrug his skinny shoulders.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you, Jack?”
“We’re all in love with her, Pudge. But you’re the only one that’s crazy in love with her. You scare her with your craziness.”
“So ask her out, you dumb shit. Do you think a girl like that comes along more than once in a lifetime?” Pudge yelled the question into the storm. “Go ahead, ask her out…I’ll get out of your way.” He turned and started down the canal.
Jack Start climbed to his feet. “You’re being stupid, Pudge. Come back here. It’s not worth it…she’s not worth it.”
Tommy Robek worked his way to his feet. Wiped the sleet from his face. “You guys are just pissed because you lost a football game. Hell, it’s not your fault. Coach Young was fuckin’ drunk.”
Pudge Abercrombie kept on walking, as if the lake were drawing him in. He threw his unlit cigarette to the side. “It is a good day to die!” they heard him shout.
Another monster wave broke over the lighthouse. It raced with a fury up the canal, drenching heart-broken Pudge up to his knees. It was only because Pudge was built so low to the ground that he was able to keep his balance. Then the wave began its violent return to the lake. And Pudge Abercrombie was off and running, chasing the black water. Sprinting toward the light.
Pudge Abercrombie chased the retreating whitecaps down the ship canal, running faster than his stubby little legs had ever before carried him. The air temperature continued its assault on the freezing mark. The wind was howling mad. The big lake was black like ink. Crippling waves lashed at the mammoth rocks. But Pudge to the lighthouse was like a moth to the candle. He leapt up the wet concrete steps and tagged the monolith. Then he turned, jumped down the steps, and started for shore.
