Most of the lake shore had either low scrub or reeds almost up to the water but there was one spot where it seemed to carve an almost U-shaped outline. A pair of oak trees gave the shore some shade and there was a jumble of stones then leading right into the water. It wasn't easy to tell until you actually entered the water but the water was actually fairly deep for swimming. She should know, she and Wyatt spent enough time in the summer swimming in it.
"Here..." Clara stopped and let him take a gander when they reached the place.
“So if you could get your hands on a new book, what would…” his voice broke off as the water came into view “… oh Lord, Clara. That’s beautiful!” he cooed, stopping in his tracks at the sight.
"Do not mind the rocks, once in the water, it is deep enough you cannot even stand, you have to swim," she quickly explained.
"Well....that is it then. You want to head back now or do you maybe want to sit and look out at the water?"
To her even that activity was a pleasant one, gazing out on the usually placid lake was peaceful and quiet, calming. On occasion she even came there to read. However this was a first, bringing a boy out to her most treasured spot.
"Yes, Dear"
"Do not mind the rocks, once in the water, it is deep enough you cannot even stand, you have to swim," she quickly explained.
Jacob simply nodded his comprehension as he took in the lovely spot. In his mind it was exactly the sort of idyll he imagined the Greek poets of old had gazed upon before writing their ageless verses: there was even a beautiful water nymph beside him as he stood and came to a decision.
"Well....that is it then. You want to head back now or do you maybe want to sit and look out at the water?"
He looked at her, almost disbelieving, and then back at the still surface of the clear, pure lake.
“Head back? Sit and look? M’am … I’m getting in!” he took off his round hat and with a cavalier flourish sent it spinning. “Miss Clara Anne Redmond, avert your gaze, these duds are coming off!” he warned her, and deaf to all entreaty, started to yet again pull off his shirt, and more, his haste only assuaged as he took care not to damage the button that she had sewn on … for that was a treasure beyond all others.
The time it took him to strip completely and dive, with a whoop, into the welcoming embrace of the cool lake water could be counted in seconds, and before you could say ‘Jack Robinson’ he was bobbing up and down in the beautifully transparent water, calling to her, his modesty only protected by the refractive properties of the medium, which made his pale form shimmer and warp and he splashed the surface into little waves.
Clara had, as was her wont for his visit, given him a pair of options but the one Jacob chose she had not expected, not at all.
"Head back? Sit and look? M’am … I’m getting in!” he took off his round hat and with a cavalier flourish sent it spinning.
Now him calling her M'am would have normally sparked off her annoyance but it was the rest which took precedence. He was going to swim?
"Now?" was all she could stammer.
“Miss Clara Anne Redmond, avert your gaze, these duds are coming off!” he warned her.
"You are not serious!" she went wide-eyed as he already began unbuttoning his shirt. Which was not in itself not such a bad thing, she had enjoyed the view earlier. But he did not stop there. He kicked off his shoes then by holding up one leg at a time, he rather impressively it must be admitted pulled off one sock at a time. She knew she did not have that kind of balance.
"Jacob, what has gotten into you?" was her plaintive and turned out unanswered question as next he unbuttoned his trousers. It was plain as could be the boy had no intention of stopping until he was as naked as a jaybird. Oh my lord! As his trousers dropped to pool up at his ankles, exposing drawers and very pale long legs, she finally spun about so as not to watch the obvious next part. Though she was certainly tempted. But her natural curiosity warred with her proper upbringing and the latter won out.
"I cannot believe you would do this, Jacob, you are simply......" she almost said 'crazy' but tempered it to, "bold to the extreme."
She now heard rather than saw the splashing of water as he charged in. And then she heard him call out.
"Yes, Dear"
It was funny being in the water, naked, completely submerged, looking back at Clara only a few feet away on the shore: she had been right, it didn’t take long to get out of standing depth, and he was treading water to keep afloat. It was strangely unembarrassing, too. It just felt sort of natural somehow.
“It’s wonderful!” he called “Why don’t you come in?” he laughed, trying not to swallow water as he did so. He didn’t expect that she would in a million years, but who knew: this whole day had been so wonderful and strange and unexpected, who knew what would happen next.
“I want to see what’s under here!” he yelled, preparing to dive under the calm, crystal clear water. “Have you ever seen the bottom?”
If Clara hadn’t seen the bottom before, she saw one now as he flipped over in the water to dive under and his buttocks broke the surface for a brief second, and then he was gone – his body just a white shape dimly perceptible swimming downward in the enormous pool of water. Then even that was gone, the quickly settling residual ripples and the pile of clothing on the bank being the only indication that the boy had ever even been there.
It was a seeming age before his head suddenly broke the surface. He couldn’t see for wet hair in his eves, and was panting for breath, but he managed to cry “You won’t believe it, but there’s a great city down there, with mermaids and seahorses and Old Neptune himself sitting on his throne, you should come and see it!” he lied with obvious enjoyment, it was just so much fun to be in the water. He pulled the hair out of his eyes to see if Clara was still even there!
It’s wonderful!” he called “Why don’t you come in?” he laughed.
"I am not going to jump in with this heavy dress on, I might well drown," she pointed out, it was one thing to swim, quite another to try and do it with the heavy material soaking all that moisture and becoming an anchor.
That did not mean a part of her really did want to join him. He was so happy, having such a grand time and she was standing there upset and fretting. She wanted to enjoy life sometimes too. Life had to be more than work, work, and duties.
“I want to see what’s under here!” he yelled, preparing to dive under the calm, crystal clear water. “Have you ever seen the bottom?”
"No, not really. I like to swim, I am not a turtle," she retorted.
That she knew of it was just a muddy lake bottom. Why did he want to do that? And just then there he went as she realized she had just caught a fleeting glimpse of his white butt. Gosh. And then she stood there expecting him to resurface any second. But he did not. Though chiding herself not to worry, she already was and promptly sat down to undo her shoe laces. Please, dear lord, she did not want to have to go in there and save him from drowning. Could she even do that successfully?
But just as she pulled one long stocking off he once more broke the surface.
“You won’t believe it, but there’s a great city down there, with mermaids and seahorses and Old Neptune himself sitting on his throne, you should come and see it!”
"Alright, so now you are just being foolish," she scoffed as she stopped with her undressing, both hands about ready to pull down her other stocking.
"Yes, Dear"
You won’t believe it, but there’s a great city down there, with mermaids and seahorses and Old Neptune himself sitting on his throne, you should come and see it!
"Alright, so now you are just being foolish," she scoffed as she stopped with her undressing, both hands about ready to pull down her other stocking.
As he rubbed the water from his eyes and was rewarded with a sight that made his heart skip a beat. In an age when a glimpse of a lady’s ankle was something to write home about, the vision of Clara with one leg bare and another about to see the light of day was enough to leave him open mouthed in awe. A small wave made him shut it again quickly.
“Were you about to come in and rescue me?” he asked, amazed. He had been under quite a lung-bursting while, he supposed, maybe she had thought the worst. It was quite flattering that she was willing to come in after him. “Because I can drown again, if you like!” he offered helpfully.
“I did see something under there.” He disclosed, regretting his earlier frivolity, lest she not believe him now.
“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old.” He said. “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up.” He was determined to go back down, as soon as he caught his breath.
“Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.
Were you about to come in and rescue me?” he suddenly asked.
"Well..." the normally eloquent Clara was once more at a loss for words when around this boy. Why was that anyhow?
“Because I can drown again, if you like!” he added, rather flippantly in her opinion.
"Maybe I should come out there and drown you for real?" she decided she could come back with a snappy retort.
“I did see something under there," he now announced.
"Oh sure you did, Jacob. What this time? Perhaps a whale...even Moby Dick?" she flashed him a dubious look, "I mean they still have not found him, you know?"
See, she too could be funny, she thought mostly to convince herself.
“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old,” he declared and he seemed to be sincere, “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up.”
Why had she not ever noticed that? Though, to be fair, she never had really attempted to feel around down at the lake bottom, what would have been the point? To fill her hands with muck? But..... was there really something down there? A mystery and right in her own backyard as it were? Now who didn't love a mystery?
Her brother would have let out of whoop of excitement and stripped off his clothes so fast it would have made one's head spin then dove on out there.
But that was the thing - she was not Wyatt. She was a girl....well a young woman to be precise and was not supposed to, by all that was proper, be cavorting about naked in front of a boy. And - he might just be saying this in an sneaky attempt to see her sans modesty!
Her choice in this matter should be so obvious and easy. But it was not. Why was this so hard?
Then it was Jacob again goading her on, tempting her.
“Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.
She had to make a decision, there and now. Was she the demure girl who sat in the Sunday church pew and was obedient to God's will? Or was she the curious girl who now recalled Emeline's words about taking a chance with a boy and seeing if it meant something for real or at least finding out if it did not? Her breath came out then in an audible sigh.
"Very well then but you better not be lying to me, Jacob, or I will never believe you again!" she told him forcefully, "Give me a minute to take ...this ....all off."
Now fully committed, and fearful she had just made the decision which would condemn her to hell when her judgement day came, Clara pulled off the second stocking then stood up and began to rather shakily unbutton her dress. It only took but a few seconds but seemed to take forever to the now impatient girl. Once that garment was shed and folded in half then laid primly down upon the ground, it was now down to the undergarments. And she was not even wearing anything fancy as this was everyday home life.
The bloomers were removed then followed by a thin shift, she had thicker ones reserved for winter months of course, and then it was time for the corset. It was then that she paused, trying to build up enough courage to take this next truly revealing step. It was both nerve wracking and yet, something about it was intensely exciting?
"Yes, Dear"
"Maybe I should come out there and drown you for real?" she decided she could come back with a snappy retort.
“I deserve it! Come and get me!” came the equally snappy reply. Despite her normally quite, well, stern demeanour, he found that he was able to be a little cheeky with Clara and get away with it. He didn’t question this odd power, he just thanked the Lord for it.
“I did see something under there," he now announced.
"Oh sure you did, Jacob. What this time? Perhaps a whale...even Moby Dick?" she flashed him a dubious look, "I mean they still have not found him, you know?"
The laugh that emitted from Jacob at this was genuine. It wasn’t that Clara’s jokes were rib-ticklingly funny, it was more the dry way she delivered them, like a slightly grumpy school marm, tersely informing the class of some dour facts.
“It looked like an old boat or wagon, wood, really old,” he declared and he seemed to be sincere, “Didn't see much; by the time I lit on it, I was out of puff and had to come up. Come and have a look with me!” he panted, as the water lapped his chin.
"Very well then but you better not be lying to me, Jacob, or I will never believe you again!" she told him forcefully, "Give me a minute to take ...this ....all off."
ALL... OFF!!??
He quite literally reached under the water and pinched himself. He had suffered (enjoyed?) this kind of dream before. They always used to come to a climax with him waking up in bed in an uncomfortable and sticky mess. Luckily those kind of dreams had stopped a couple of years ago, he remembered, and the pain of the pinch told him that this was actually real: Clara Redmond was taking off every stitch of her toggery right in front of him!
He managed a weak and dry throated “All right.” Then after that, he kept his mouth shut: even offering to gallantly turn around could somehow jinx this magical happening, he thought, as he saw Clara reach down to the last remnants of her modesty. He was breathing harder now than when he had just come up from his underwater dive.
Oddly, though, there was nothing happening to him, down below. As he goggled at the beautiful young woman on the bank, he didn’t know if that was cause for celebration or not. Like every young man, he had to worry that when, or if, the great moment came, he might not be ‘up to it’. Not that he’d had that problem when he was sparking with Joanna Coltrane, and she was as plain as Clara was pretty, poor girl, so he tried to rest easy and just enjoy the show.
Probably just the affects of the cold water, he ruminated.
As she hesitated, Clara glanced down into the water. Jacob was treading water and just staring. She could hardly be surprised. Plus he probably was well aware of what was coming next. Her trembling fingers went to the corset front and she began to unbutton, there were also cords in the back to help a woman pull the already constrictive garment tighter and tighter for that hourglass frame so desired in society. She however never wore it tight, in the first place she was flat chested so so much for the top part of the so called hourglass.
Jacob was no doubt in for a big disappointment she berated herself as the buttons were finished and now she could take it off completely. The garment joined the pile of already discarded wardrobe. A part of her screamed to cover her breasts then with her hands but then how would she finish the last of this long process plus was she going to move about and even swim like that? No impossible. One way or the other he was going to have an eyeful . Again she looked down right at him both embarrassed and yet hopeful.
"Yes, Dear"
Had Moby Dick indeed surfaced in the lake at that very moment and swallowed Jacob whole, he could have died happy, or at least lived happy in the belly of the beast, like Jonah, content to survive on the memory of that one fantastically sublime moment. Miss Clara Anne Redmond, the somewhat stern, serious and schoolmarmly young lady of Kalispell, Montana, stood naked and a little red cheeked before him and, rather thrillingly, anyone in the world who happened to be passing.
He had seen too few naked ladies in his young life to know how her figure compared to others, but to him she was perfect: the beauty of her bodily form in perfect balance with that of her little round face. Against the prevailing fashions of the time, she might seem thin, with a lack of bust and ‘good child-bearing hips’ but he liked, nay, loved her petite breasts and the slight but attractive bulge of her bottom. Classical statues of Aphrodite and Juno that he had gazed lustfully on in books were all denuded and bare in the area that his eyes had been naturally drawn to, but Clara was possessed of a natural and somehow welcoming looking tuft of brown hair that matched that on her head (as well it might!) At this distance he couldn’t see her scar, nor was he looking for it, he was just in dumbstruck awe at the entirety of her charms.
He was glad when she entered the water: for a start, that meant that she was coming nearer to him, but also, to have gazed on her completely naked body any longer would have probably driven him mad, as those who gazed too long upon the beauty of the God Hermes in ancient days were supposed to have been driven insane.
As she swam toward him, and a neat little stroke she possessed indeed, he knew that he had to say something. He didn’t want to compliment the beauty of her body directly, she might not want that kind of attention drawing to the stark nudity she had displayed in front of him, that nudity which now shimmered playfully beneath the water. He caught sight, as she righted herself in the crystal clear water of the lake, of the mark above her right nipple that the Reb had mentioned.
“I’m disappointed” he said, paddling gently toward her and nodding toward her pert breasts, made goosepimply and firm by the cold of the water “I can hardly see that scar, Arabella made out it was so big you could put it on display in a circus.” He said, peering with a frown and narrowed eyes, like he was trying to make out a pimple on an ant.
In fact, that was a little white lie, the scar was noticeable. Though it could never mar her beauty in his eyes, and in fact mystically added to it, you could tell that it was a souvenir of a wound that had been deep, painful and life threatening. Though it was fully healed, he somehow wanted to kiss it better. He glanced from her brown, perfectly formed nipples to her brown, perfectly formed eyes.
"Can you swim under water?" he asked prosaically, somehow ameliorating the fact that they were two young people of opposite sexes, naked and within a couple of feet of each other.