On Making New Friends

It was an irrational fear, he knew that. Intellectually Craig understood that he wasn't going to drown or be eaten alive by sharks or electrocuted by eels but ever since he was a child, lakes have paralyzed him with fear. He was 8 years old when his new neighbours Dana and Eric convinced him to tread hip deep into White Creek lake to pick up the abalone shells, telling him they were magical and possessed special powers. Craig was desperate to impress. He didn't make friends easily. Too heady, too quiet, "socially awkward" was what the teachers wrote. Gifted was how his mom translated it. Craig didn't notice the leeches at first. It was only when Dana and Eric couldn't stifle their laughter any longer that he saw them covering his ankles and inchworming up his calf. Stuttering and wailing in terror Craig begged the brothers to get them off. Eric finally pulled out a matchbook and started burning them off, one by one, putting a flaming match to each leech. They'd watch them curl in on themselves and drop off, leaving Craig torched with spotted lesions. Humiliated and heartbroken Craig ran home leaving his sneakers behind. They showed up on his front porch the next day with a hand written note from the brothers, obviously coerced by their parents. Sorry for the leeches. Needless to say, his first week in his new school sharing a homeroom with Eric and Dana was deeply discomfiting for Craig. All year long he wore sweatpants in phys ed to hide the marks on his shins. He never set foot in a lake again.

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