The Words in the Fog

The changing hut by the lake is small. It is made of grey wood. It has one bench, six hooks and a round mirror. The mirror is very old. When anyone breathes near it, it fogs up in a second.

Every morning at six, Brina and Ife are alone in the hut. They change fast and run to the water. They swim to the yellow float and back. Then they sit on the bench and dry their hair.

Brina talks a lot. Ife listens. That is how it works. She tells him about her sister, her bike and her boss. He tells her small things. The water is cold. The ducks are loud. His left shoe has a hole.

On Monday, Brina does not talk. She sits on the bench and looks at her feet.

"I have news," she says at last. "I have a new job. It is in the city, four hours away. I start on Monday."

Ife looks at the floor. "That is great," he says. His voice sounds strange.

"Is it?" she asks. "Tell me one true thing before I go. Something you never say to anyone."

"One true thing," he says.

"Yes. Not a text message. Not a note on paper. Say it to me with your own face."

Ife thinks about it for a long time. His hands feel cold, and not from the lake. "I promise," he says.

"Good," says Brina. She smiles, takes his towel and puts it in her bag. This is a game they play. She always gives it back at the end.

On Tuesday, Ife tries to keep his promise. He waits on the wooden pier. Brina comes out of the water. Her hair is flat on her head. He opens his mouth.

"Brina, I need to say…"

A duck jumps onto the pier and takes her sandwich. Brina shouts. The duck runs. She chases it down the whole pier. When she comes back, the moment is gone.

On Wednesday, he tries in the water. They swim side by side to the float. He stops and holds the rope. "Brina," he says. Then a wave from a passing boat hits his face. He swallows half the lake. He coughs for five minutes. Brina hits his back and laughs until she cries.

"What did you want to say?" she asks.

"Nothing," he says. "Only that the lake is wet."

On Thursday, he practises alone in the hut. He looks at the mirror. He says the words to his own face. "Brina, I like you." It sounds fine. Then he says it again and thinks of her eyes. His voice goes small and silly. He puts his hands over his face and makes a sad sound.

On Friday, the hut is full. The swimming club comes, with thirty children and loud whistles. Brina has boxes in her car. She has no time. She waves at him through the crowd, and the whistles blow.

Ife goes home and cannot sleep. He lies on his bed and looks at the ceiling. He made a promise with his mouth. His mouth does not work.

Then he has an idea.

On Saturday, he comes to the hut at half past five. The lake is empty and grey. The hut is quiet. He stands in front of the mirror. It is clean and dry and shows only his tired face.

He puts one finger on the glass. Slowly, he writes. His letters are small and careful. When he finishes, the glass looks the same. Nothing is there to see. He smiles and puts his finger in his pocket. He leaves his towel on the bench. Brina always takes it.

At six, he goes to the water. He waits at the end of the pier.

Brina comes into the hut a few minutes later. She is the last one today. This is her final morning at the lake. She puts her bag on the bench and takes off her coat. She puts Ife's towel in her bag, as always. Then she sees her face in the mirror. She does not like it.

"I look awful," she says to the empty hut. "I look like a person who does not sleep."

She breathes on the glass and makes a face. The mirror fogs up. Then something very strange happens. Words come out of the fog, one by one.

Brina stops. She reads.

"Brina. This is the one true thing. I like you more than the lake. I do not want you to go. I am sorry I am bad at talking."

She reads it twice. Then she reads it again. Her eyes are wet, and she laughs. She does not know which comes first. The fog goes away slowly, and the words go with it. She breathes on the glass one more time to keep them.

Then she takes Ife's towel from her bag. She walks out to the pier.

He stands at the end, wet and cold. His arms are around himself. He cannot look at her.

"You said no notes," she says. "You said no paper."

"A mirror is not paper," says Ife.

"And you said with your face."

"My face is in the mirror," he says. "It was there the whole time."

Brina shakes her head. She is still smiling. "One true thing, you said. That was four true things."

"I am a generous man," says Ife. His teeth start to shake. "Now can I please have my towel?"