Homeland Insecurity

There was a moment of fear today. Fear mixed with embarrassment and a certain sense of pride. My parents, Matt and I decided to stop by our lake house for the afternoon. Just to get away from whatever it feels like people need to get away from after a holiday. We had been down to our dock, rested at the house for a little while and had then all headed out for an afternoon hike. Two o'clock Sunday sun had glistened off of still waters. Finally browned oak leaves had crunched beneath our feet. Nature's wonder had set the scene for an awareness within myself that life could in fact be simple. That our humanity far outweighs our hate.
Matt and I separated from my parents after a trip down the Old Bucket Trail bordering the lake. My mom and dad headed back to the house and we made our way over to a dock in an open cove that afforded a sense of openness in an utterly remote setting. We had been down on this dock for a while, Matt lying on his back, his head resting in my lap when I got the sensation that someone was coming towards us. It started out as a sensation, vaguely of being watched although we were in the middle of nowhere, but more or less became a certainty when the distinct sound of footsteps on dead grass grew louder.
"Someone's coming." I whispered to Matt. "No they're not. You're joking." his only natural response. I turned, my head rotating back and to the right and sure enough, although shockingly, a man was approaching with two small black muts panting at his heels.
Now there was no denying the fact that we had been in a more than casual postition. In fact I had been leaning down to kiss Matt not thirty seconds earlier. And if there was any question as to our combined genders from forty feet away there certainly wouldn't be any confusion soon. Matt sprung up. I thought to myself maybe this man will just go away. Maybe he isn't headed down to this dock at all. It soon became clear, however, that he was not only headed to this dock but straight towards us. He was an older man, sixty five or so, with a thick gray mustache and a can of Coors light in his hand. There was no backing out of this one. We were a couple of queers in the middle of nowhere on someone else's dock and our only two choices were fight or flight.
The stranger stepped onto the wood planked dock, now not more than ten feet behind us. We were surrounded on all sides by freezing cold lake water and there was literally no way out. He stared at us. I have no idea what Matt was doing but I suppose I more or less stared back. "You boys know this is a private dock?" came warbling out of his mouth after what felt like an eternity had passed. "Uh, yes, sorry." I replied, scared simply because I felt intruded upon, nervous only because I felt exposed. "Yes, sorry. Is it ok if we sit here? I, uh, um we have a house just right over there-" "Oh," he called, still summing us up. Not seeming particularly offended or even surprised, though he could have been quite the actor in his day. "Oh, you're a Clark?" he responded, referencing my family's name. "Yes, yes that's me." I said breathing what must have looked like an enormous sigh of relief. "All I need to know," he replied, already turning around to go.
The dogs stayed for a moment longer, licking the tips of our fingers in what seemed to me like only slight amuzement. The man who I would later come to find out was our "neighbor" Lloyd was already nearly gone.
I suppose there was absolutely no reason to be afraid that someone would catch us in a private moment played out amongst the great outdoors. And yet there was without question a reason to be afraid. We live in interesting times, whether you're a New Yorker, an Arkansan or someone in between. Very interesting and often scary times, and for some sad, strange reason life seems so much safer when it's lived behind closed doors.