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How He Came To Love The PondMar 04 '07 (Updated Apr 23 '07) Write an essay on this topic.
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Nobody swam in Milner Pond. Even when the sun sat high on its midsummer throne, hurling its hottest insults down on the pale shoulders of mortals, the stoutest-hearted locals refrained from cooling off with a dive into that dark and, some said, bottomless body of water. Kids from town would sometimes splash around in the creek that emptied into it, but you’d never see a single soul jumping into the pond itself. According to the scientific know-it-alls who came from the university to study it, Milner Pond was a gigantic sinkhole formed in ancient times. The only folks likely to descend the heavily potholed dirt track that started at the top of the ridge to the west and ran down in a semi-circle along the water’s northern edge were fellas who’d sit in drunken solitude with a pole between their knees, waiting for a carp or catfish to provide a little exhilaration. Most people were deterred by the mosquitoes that flew out every evening from the nearby woods like a horde of barbarians or the water snakes that often wiggled their way across the calm but sinister surface. Legend had it that a giant snapping turtle lived over by the slope that came down steeply from the road, in what was believed to be the deepest part of the pond. The snapper story was a part of local Indian lore, and grandpas had used it for generations to scare their young ones away from that desolate and dangerous place. On certain days the sun and clouds would conspire to create a shadow that looked an awful lot like some gargantuan beast just waiting for someone to fall into the water. The only abode in that little valley was an old two story Victorian house, situated at the end of the road and a matter of yards from the northeast corner of the pond. It was occupied for many years by a giant of a man named Blake, and his daughter Laura Beth, who was generally agreed to be the most beautiful girl in the entire county. Jack Wallace once remarked, after having caught a glimpse of her through the window of the hardware store, that if God had taken half as much time on the rest of creation as He did on Laura, He never would’ve finished up the project in seven days. Jack wasn’t content to just take note of the girl’s appearance; he aimed to be the object of her affection as well. None of the other boys in school were brave enough to approach Laura Beth, since her beauty was the kind that most men find intimidating. They’d just blush or ogle as she passed by, but Jack wanted the woman he knew was developing just beneath that soft and pale exterior. Their conversations in class quickly turned into something far more serious. Whenever he wanted to pay her a visit, Jack was forced to walk that road past Milner Pond. Like other kids his age, a fear of the place had been instilled in him by his elders, and Jack would get slightly nervous as he passed by that threatening expanse of water. However, his attraction to Laura Beth was powerful enough to overcome the place’s reputation. In time, he even began to enjoy the sight of it, since he knew what he’d find on its other side. Most of their time together was spent on the front porch swing, since Blake made it clear that no one was permitted in the house while he was out. He liked Jack well enough, but knew the value of his daughter in the eyes of boys and consequently trusted none of them. With the mother having passed away from illness many years before, Blake was the only one around to watch out for Laura Beth, and he aimed to do his duty well. Things were progressing much to Jack’s satisfaction when Laura grew suddenly and strangely cold. Although he did not know it at the time, she was struggling to cope with the fact that her father had cancer, a fact Blake revealed to his daughter one afternoon after Jack’s departure. Thinking he had done something to ruin the relationship, Jack was devastated by the change in her demeanor. With Laura becoming increasingly withdrawn and spending most of her spare time at church, Jack had little reason to trek out to the house by Milner Pond. This state of apartness existed for most of their final year in high school, and Jack was conscripted into the military shortly after graduation. Before being shipped off to some foreign shore, he dropped by Laura’s house to say goodbye but found neither her nor Blake at home. And so, with a heart heavier than a boatload of lead, he headed off to war without saying goodbye to the girl he had never ceased to love. With the memory of Laura Beth his only luxury, Jack survived the horrors of war. Years had passed since last he lost himself in her hazel eyes, but he could still recall every detail of Laura Beth’s face. The destruction and carnage he saw around him, the misery and disease- none of these could erase his determination to leave the battlefield alive, if only to make one last attempt to win her heart. Even though she had responded to none of his letters, Jack swore to not give up until Laura confirmed in person the hopelessness of his cause. Upon his return to Engleton, Jack discovered that things had changed dramatically in his absence. The town was still a one-horse affair compared to a place like Texarkana, but an Italian neighborhood had sprung up seemingly overnight. It is to a member of that community that we must now turn our attention, since Franco Pistone proved the primary obstacle to Jack’s designs on Laura. Out of all the wops to invade the place, Franco was one of the flashiest and most assertive. His family opened a restaurant in the center of town, though Franco wasn’t the kind to sweat away his better days in the dullness of a kitchen. Instead, he usually took to cruising around in a black 1914 Model T Speedster. Through a combination of his fancy car and the dago talent for smooth talk, Franco quickly worked his way through a number of local girls, but the one that really caught his eye was a quiet brunette who’d sometimes stop in for lunch with her father on Saturday afternoons. That girl, of course, was Laura Beth. Franco’s attempts to court her were at first unsuccessful. Blake, then in the last stage of disease, was quite opposed to the idea of his daughter shacking up with a dirty Catholic. Eating in their restaurant was one thing, but embracing a papist as a potential son-in-law was something to which he could never consent. However, despite her father’s admonitions against marrying someone whose background was so different from her own, Laura Beth agreed to wed Franco not long after Blake’s death. Jack learned of Laura Beth’s marriage from his cousin shortly after arriving back in town. Chelton Wallace was a local firebrand, as prone to stirring up trouble as Jack was to avoiding it, and had a particularly large chip on his shoulder toward Franco, on account of some unpaid gambling debt Pistone refused to honor. After swearing to harm everything from Franco’s car to his family’s business, Chelton urged Jack to make a trip out to Milner Pond; he could think of no finer vengeance than his cousin rekindling a past romance with the wife of the Italian he so strongly despised. It didn’t take much encouragement to put Jack back on the downward sloping mess of a road that wound around the pond. Seeing that mass of water put the old fear back into his soul, so wild and threatening did it look that morning. The wind was kicking up a series of whitecaps, and while Jack never remembered seeing Milner Pond in anything other than a state of ominous calm, it looked that day like a miniature sea or some tropical backwater, with the weeds and reeds that lined the shore more overgrown than ever. And then, with the sight of that old house beckoning him thither, Jack Wallace again lost his fear of Milner Pond. He picked up his pace and noticed with relief that the Speedster was nowhere to be seen, while remembering the other things Chelton had told him about Pistone: that the man was cruel to Laura Beth and would often spend his nights playing cards or seeking pleasure in the beds of other women. It was even rumored that she had confided to Millie Carson her wish that Jack would come back and rescue her from that loveless marital arrangement. Franco’s Catholic opposition to divorce meant that the man she married out of her despair and his persistence had become little more than a lifelong jailer. As Jack reached the northwest edge of the pond, where the road is almost level with the water’s surface, he heard far behind and above him the distant hum of a motor approaching. A cloud of dust being kicked up beyond the ridge could only mean that a car was making its way toward him, and the possibilities started to crowd Jack’s mind. Franco might not know him, but he’d certainly wonder why a stranger was headed toward his house at such an early hour. At the very least, Pistone would likely find it curious that Jack lacked a fishing rod, without which no one would ever think to visit Milner Pond. With what he knew to be the Speedster drawing ever closer to the top of the ridge, Jack weighed his options. Taking cover in the weeds by the water or in the woods seemed cowardly for a man who’d just seen combat, not to mention somehow disrespectful to the woman he loved. Laura Beth was more than worth whatever the consequences might be of standing up to Franco, so Jack mentally prepared himself for a possible confrontation should the Italian stop to harry him. The Speedster had just begun its descent when the right front wheel hit a hole in the road, flew off the car, and bounded down the slope into Milner Pond. Jack caught his first and last glimpse of Franco Pistone as the man vainly attempted to maintain control of the vehicle, shortly before it followed the tire into those cold depths in a tremendous splash of water. Dashing up the track to where Franco and his automobile had plunged over the side, Jack saw that the Speedster was already almost completely submerged. What looked like a man’s head broke the surface a time or two, and just as Jack considered jumping into the pond that had scared him witless for as long as he could remember to save a man he didn’t like, a massive shadow appeared to move toward that very spot. It could’ve just been an illusion created by a cloud passing overhead but one thing was beyond dispute: Franco Pistone had disappeared. Jack Wallace stood there for quite some time, just watching the ripples race across the pond. As he reflected on the astonishing speed with which the car and driver had been swallowed up, the morning clouds began to part, revealing the day’s first rays of light. The house looked quiet and warm in the distance, and Jack suspected Laura Beth still lay sleeping within, unaware that she’d just been widowed. Remembering her fondness for bluebonnets, he stooped to pick a few that grew alongside the road and continued on his way, hoping he’d get to present them to her at the very moment she came awake. 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