22,000 words | Chick-Lit/Thriller (novella)
Synopsis: Kelli, a working-class young woman in a small Minnesota town, becomes the object of a female university professor's interest. The professor enlightens Kelli, teaching her the concept of the circle--the idea of repeating the mistakes of those who came before and how to break free.
Sven grabs Oley's legs while Oley pulls off his hat and takes a deep breath. Oley screams then sticks his big head into the frigid water. In the murky blackness, Oley can see Kelli caught in fishing line which encircles her like white gossamer threads. She is floating slowly downward—down, down into the depths of the black lake. He reaches out a hand. He can see her look up at him. The circle of light in the ice that she sees is getting farther and farther away. The vague outline of the old man coaxing her back to the world is fading and dim now. And then—a figure—an apparition—is looking at her. It has a feminine form, but it doesn't seem fully human. It moves closer then put its mouth to hers, forcing air—life—into her lungs. The apparition breaks the circle of fishing line that holds Kelli and nudges her upward towards the white hole. Kelli floats gently toward the hole—slowly, slowly—those blue eyes are cloudy now—and then they close as her body bumps into the ice. Suddenly a pair of hands reach down and grab her. The hands are weathered and beaten—Oley’s.
The old men vainly struggle to pull Kelli out of the hole. They strain and groan, falling over each other, panting like the old men they are, as if this is might just be the last thing they ever do on earth. And with a final heave, they somehow Kelli out of the water. The three bodies lay on the frozen lake- the old men huffing, their warm breath condensing in the cold like dragon's breath. Kelli is still as a snowflake.
Oley finally gathers the strength to get to his knees and looks down at her. Kelli's still body. Ice crystalizes on her face in beautiful, lace-like patterns. Oley points to the closest house in the distance. It is a simple white frame house.
“Let's get her to that house over yonder.”
The men grab Kelli by the feet, and start pulling her toward the house. The only witness has been a row of crows sitting on a frozen wire. They stare, their heads cocked and cawing in their usual way, as the old men drags Kelli across the lake. The winter, the wind, the snow—are all indifferent to the small dark figures that moves slowly across the whiteness. The men finally made it up into the yard and to the front of the house and then up three stairs to the front door of the house, dragging Kelli like a deer. Oley bangs hard on the wooden door.
“Hey, open up! Emergency!”
Hello! Fuck shit! Ain't nobody home,” Sven mutters.
In the house, Elysia McCormack, age thirty-seven, is making coffee. She was readying for her classes that she teaches at the university in town. She has large, soft brown eyes, opens the door with an angry look on her face. She has a coffee cup and it looks like she's getting ready for class.
“What the—!”
She looks down and sees Kelli's body and her beautiful, icy blue face.
“My God! Come on! Get her in here!”
They haul her inside house. It’s warm and golden with color, a stark contrast to the white barren world of the lake, full of with the promise of life. The men drag Kelli fully inside and lay her on a rug.
“Get her clothes off,” Elysia says.
The men look at each other.
“Now!”
Elysia jumps down and starts pumping Kelli's chest, then she clears her mouth and looks down into her throat. She swipes her finger quickly around Kelli's mouth and pulls out some leaves and a brown slurry of lake muck. The men clumsily start pulling Kelli's boots and socks off. Elysia works harder, blowing and pumping on Kelli's face and chest.
“Get her pants off.”
The men look at each other, amazed in a strange way. Never in their wildest imagination, even as grim as the situation is, did they think they'd be undressing a young woman again. They look at each other again then at Elysia.
“Do it. NOW!”
The old men stare at each other, mouths wide, still unsure, then each moves around and positions themselves at Kelli’s feet. Each man removes a shoe and then a woolen sock which is heavy and coated with ice granules. They begin to tug in unison at the frozen blue jeans which are married to a pair of long grey underwear. The jeans and underwear seem to conspire and hold jealously to the iliac crests of the pelvic bone on either side. The men pull harder, giving each other looks, until finally the pelvic bone releases its hold on the fabric and the blue flesh above the pubis begins to reveal itself slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, from side to side, they move the jeans lower. First comes the bright yellow sunshine of panties which are now pulled askew over the pubic mound, revealing ice-rimed light-brown pubic hair that glistens in the light. Then as the pelvis narrows, the jeans move quicker and now , come the smooth blue thighs with icy blue-black striations—then the knees—one with a long smooth scar that hooks at a forty-five degree angle like a dogleg—then the calves—each as smooth as the thighs, looking as if they had been carved on the lathe of the gods—then the ankles—the right one which has a long red scrape on it—and finally the jeans are off and the men are done with their task. They stare at her still blue body in strange amazement, as if they are her creator, the first to gaze upon the feminine form. Elysia grabs them and pulls them out of their temporary dumbfoundedness.
“Put some blankets on her and rub her legs.”
The men hesitate a moment.