Title: The Lake House
Summary: Lavi/Allen. "There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison...."No amount of time can change these feelings or separate these lovers. Even if we're two years apart, I still love you. Based on the film: The Lake House
Rating: PG/PG-13
Genre: Romance (obviously).
Content: Boys in love. Maybe a brief instance of violence. Some swearing. Boys kissing. You know the drill.
Characters: Allen and Lavi
Author's Note: I know I should be finishing other things, but this is my love child at the moment. Consider it a strange fascination with time and anything involving Keanu Reeves, because that man—no matter what people say—is insanely attractive to me.
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He hadn't seen the place since years ago; right after it had first been built. Time was kind to the structure, most appropriately called the Lake House. Although it had been empty for many years, it still retained its charm and silent beauty, quietly presiding over the elements of the Earth. It was a square building, held up a reasonable height above the placid water of the lake in a majestic sort of way. Long, rectangular windows stared out at the water that stretched out for a good mile and a half; gazed fondly at the foliage that surrounded the body of water. It was, as his grandfather had put it Paradiso.
Lavi Bookman threw his rusty Ford into park, letting the engine die as he sat and looked at the house from his childhood memories. Although serene and architecturally magnificent, Lavi could remember no fondness for the building when he was younger. It was just that place where he lived after his mother died and his father abandoned him, leaving a seven year-old boy to try to comprehend the stubbornness and neglect of an uncaring grandfather.
Despite this, Lavi had come back to the Lake House in hopes of finding serenity from the chaos of his life. Architecture had been his grandfather's dream, not his, and had left him in a profession he despised: building townhouses in Chicago's nearby suburbs. The cookie-cutter houses that looked all the same were not his vision of an artistic dream he had once had for himself. It was dead end job that allowed no room for creativity. It was also exceedingly lonely, leaving Lavi to fear ending up like the stoic man who had raised him. The only reason his grandfather even looked at him in the first place was the slight strand of commonality in their bloodlines and nothing more.
Sighing, Lavi grabbed his blueprints and stepped out into the cold February morning. Frost crunched under his boots as he walked down the long dock toward the quiet house. From there, the rest of the morning was spent airing the place out and cleaning up, as he would be moving his things in the following day. Light moved across the soft wood of the floor. It's all about the light his grandfather had always said. Light brings beauty to an otherwise unimpressive object.
Later that day, Lavi took out the trash that he had pulled down from the attic. He bagged that with the debris from the yard that had fallen into neglect. Setting down the black garbage bags at the end of the dock next to the dust bins, his elbow struck the rusting metal mailbox out front.
"Ow, dammit…" Lavi grumbled, holding his elbow as he glared at the box for causing him such an offense. But after a moment, when the slight stinging subsided, Lavi realized that there was something inside the old mailbox: a letter. Strange Lavi thought. No one's lived here in forever…
January 4th, 2006
Dear New Tenant,
Welcome to your new home. As a previous tenant of the Lake House, I can safely say that you will love it as much as I did. I've put in a change of address with the post office, but you know how that works sometimes. Please do me the favor of forwarding any mail that might end up there to:
1620 N Racine Avenue #14
Chicago, IL 60601
Thanks in advance,
Allen Walker
P.S. Sorry about the paw prints on the deck. They were there when I moved in. The same with the box in the attic. I just never got around to cleaning up.
Lavi looked at the letter and read it over a few times with a confused sort of expression. Not only was the date two years ahead of 2004, but the contents of the note were incorrect. The Lake House had been empty for many years, as the realtor had mentioned when he signed all the paperwork. And then there were the finer details…
"Paw prints on the deck?" he repeated out loud, walking back to the house. There were no marks on the old wood. "Box in the attic?" His brow furrowed deeper when he recalled that there had been nothing in the attic save for spider webs and dust.
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It was a warm, sunny day in February, which was rather odd for that time of year. But the residents of the city were taking advantage of the weather. Allen Walker was not exempt from this population, choosing to have lunch with his adoptive father, Mana Walker, in the city square. They were eating hoagies from Laspada's while seated on the stairs in front of the bank, enjoying Chicago's steady heartbeat. It was a nice break from the cramped, hectic life that Allen led in the nearby hospital, where the hours were too long and the pay too little. Even still, Allen loved his work, despite that all he did nowadays was spend the majority of his time at that hospital. With these mixed feelings towards his profession, the little reprieve was welcomed, especially to enjoy company beyond that of his dog at home. His novelist father had been so agreeable to meet his son for some quality time that he had even paid for lunch, despite Allen's protests.
"I don't know why you left that house, Allen. You seemed very happy there," Mana said. Allen swept back a strand of his fair hair, looking out at the people passing by with their lives. Couples were the most apparent, happily moving past without a care in the world. Valentine's Day made these people very annoying to the man, but Allen couldn't help but experience the tiny bit of want for a true relationship with someone. All of his had been…not right.
"The commute was too much," Allen replied, taking a bite of his Italian sub. He didn't want to think about that beautiful house he had left behind. Allen was a realist and knew that it was better if he lived closer to the hospital, even if it meant a cramped apartment over on the west side. "I decided to save on gas."
"But that house was quite something," Mana said, shaking his head. "I've never seen you so enthralled about something since medical school." Allen laughed, thinking about the lake house he left behind. It was his old life and he truly hoped that the new tenant there would enjoy its peaceful serenity as much as he had, starting their new beginning.
"Well, it was very calming," Allen answered, "but that drive everyday was just too much, you know?" Mana nodded in understanding, the two of them enjoying the comfortable quiet between them on the warm day. It was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a horn blaring, the squealing of brakes, and then the shattering of glass. People screamed and ran. Smoke plumed from the site of the accident that had occurred right before their eyes, where Allen had seen a green sedan swerve in an attempt to not strike a pedestrian. They weren't fast enough. Without saying anything to his father, Allen pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he ran towards the scene.
"I need an ambulance on Union and 5th!" he shouted to the receptionist at 911 as he rushed to the intersection. "A pedestrian had been struck by an oncoming vehicle." With that, he ran into the fray, telling people to stand back as he rushed to the man lying crumpled against the pavement. Allen immediately set out to perform basic first aid and started trying to resuscitate him. But no matter how many rescue breaths he gave, the man beneath his bloody hands would not stir.
"It wasn't your fault," Mana told him, later that night. It was after the man had been taken away beneath a tarp and the intersection had been cleared of all debris. Allen knew it wasn't his fault, because he understood he couldn't save everyone. It came with the job, he knew, but no matter how many times Allen washed his hands, he still felt like the blood was there.
"I know," Allen said, biting his lip. He dealt with mortality everyday: he had watched children suffer incurable diseases and watched the old die. He had witnessed life so unfairly taken on a daily basis. That afternoon had been one of those instances, where a young man was killed in the prime of his life. He had so much to live for, but his life had ended prematurely due to accidental causes. And on Valentine's Day, of all days. What if he had someone at home waiting for him? And what if…No one was there at all?
Which was the more tragic outcome?
"Maybe," began Mana, putting his hand on Allen's shoulder. A gesture of comfort and understanding to the things Allen would never say, but Mana could intuitively know. "You should take a break. Just for a little while." The hospital willingly gave him the time off after such a traumatizing accident, although they were saddened to lose their best attending for two weeks. Allen knew that it was selfish and that he was truly needed there, but their eyes told him to go and recover so that he could continue to work at full capacity.
Because that was all there was for Allen Walker. He knew this as he drove down lamp-lit, crowded highways towards the one place he had truly felt at peace. There was only work for him. There was no one waiting at home.
At least he could take the letter out of the mailbox now.
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Lavi set out the next day to fixing up the place. Even though it was Valentine's Day, it wasn't as if Lavi had anyone to share it with, or anywhere to go for that matter. Because of this, he focused his energies on the Lake House and comfortably settling in. After getting the majority of his things from his old studio, he sorted them into their appropriate places inside the house. There was no room for clutter in such a space, but Lavi didn't have much in the way of excess besides books. His grandfather, he thought wryly, had been the same way, which was why there was ample room and shelving for volumes of all kinds around the house. But organization aside, Lavi figured it was time for some freshening up of the place. The railing on the walkway deck needed to be repaired and painted, so Lavi made that his first chore for the day.
After mending the broken, splintered wood, he set out to painting it. He chose a dark brown from a local hardware store, knowing that the color would help accent the narrow, light-colored walkway. As he was kneeling down in an attempt to coat the stain all around a baluster, he heard the scratching of nails running across his deck. Starting slightly, Lavi turned around in time to see a small, golden dog run past him towards the house. It had knocked his paint over in the process, spilling it across the panels.
"H-Hey!" Lavi yelled after the animal. It stopped by his door to give him a confused sort of look, its slightly mangy hair and no collar allowing Lavi to know it was a stray. But before he could muster up another shout of accusation, his eyes moved down to look at the deck. The dog must have gotten the paint upon his paws when rushing by him, as there were dark paw prints below his feet. They stood out in sharp contrast to the pale wood. "Paw…prints…?" Lavi said aloud to himself. The mutt barked and he looked up, shaking his head. "No…couldn't be…"
When the dog wouldn't leave, even after Lavi painted all the railings, he figured it wouldn't be that terrible to keep a pet—would it? Giving the animal a bath was difficult, but in the end when Lavi was sore, tired, and wet, the dog looked passable and rather amiable. Once it settled down for a nap on a makeshift bed of his old t-shirts, Lavi picked up the letter again and read the post script once more.
"Paw prints on the deck…" he murmured, pacing about. "Box in the attic…" He checked. The paw prints were still there, but the box remained absent from the small attic. Shaking his head again, Lavi sat down at the kitchen table with the letter to read it over once more. 2006. The letter was dated January 4th, 2006. Two years ahead of time, which meant that the letter couldn't have been sitting there since the last tenant moved out, right? He rubbed his hands over his face, tired and confused. Maybe it was some sort of prank? Unsure, but determined to find out, he produced a piece of paper and a pen and replied.
The next morning, Lavi sealed and stamped the envelope and put it in the mailbox on his way to work. He had a P.O. Box in a smaller town south of the city and all of his mail went there, so the mailbox remained free of any letters. But if the mailman were to come out here, he would certainly find the letter addressed to Mr. Allen Walker and take care of it for him. If not, Lavi would go to the post office the next day, or day after, to collect his bills and he would bring the letter with him.
That decided, he got in his truck and sat there for a few moments in front of the heater. He had to make sure to get dog food for his new guest and he needed milk from the store. Mentally filing these things away for later, the redhead breathed a tired sigh and resigned himself to go to work.
Another meaningless day.
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When Allen arrived at the lake house, he had gone inside and fallen asleep immediately in what had been his old bed. He felt so fortunate that his realtor hadn't sold the place yet, so returning was made simple for him. With only a few boxes of things and a suitcase of clothes, Allen felt he could live comfortably during his miniature vacation. The view was calming, too, he realized, when drinking his first cup of coffee by one of the large windows where the light spilled so beautifully against the soft wood floor. The trees and the water were so serene and he felt his troubled mind relax slightly in nature's presence. He'd missed this.
His golden lab was certainly happy about the change of scenery. Timcanpy had hated life in the city, and now had the freedom to run around as much as he chose. Allen opened the slider door to let the dog bolt outside into the crisp morning air for some exercise. As Timcanpy chased after squirrels and crickets, Allen walked in his comfortable bathrobe toward the mailbox to remove his letter. After all, there was no new tenant to worry about welcoming and asking for favors.
However, inside the mailbox, he found his own letter to be gone and a new one in its place. His name was in an unfamiliar hand and the envelope itself with not enough postage to even be processed into U.S. mail. Inside, Allen found a letter addressed to him with a date two years in the past:
February 14th, 2004
Dear Mr. Walker,
I received your note in my mailbox yesterday. There must be some sort of misunderstanding. No one has lived here at the Lake House in years. I'm sorry, but I also do believe you've gotten the date wrong. It's 2004.
Sincerely,
Lavi Bookman
P.S. I'm curious to know as to how you knew about the paw prints on the deck. They weren't there until earlier this afternoon, when a four-legged guest had the pleasure of dropping in unexpectedly.
Allen read the letter once, twice, and then three times in an attempt to decipher what this person meant by all of this nonsense. As he walked back toward the house on top of dark brown paw prints, Allen had to wonder just what this person was talking about. And what sort of joke was it that this Lavi Bookman's return address was the same as the house Allen owned?
February 15th, 2006
Dear Mr. Bookman,
I can assure you that you are the one who is incorrect. It has been 2006 all year. Ask anyone. And despite your obvious inability to know what year it is, would you please forward any of my mail you would receive? It would be appreciated. The address, once again is:
1620 N Racine Avenue #14
Chicago, IL, 60601
Thank you,
Allen Walker
He decided not to comment on this Lavi Bookman's rather crazy notion about the paw prints, deciding that his mystery correspondent was already a bit loose in the head to not know the correct date. Besides, they had been there for as long as Allen lived in the lake house, and that was that.
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Lavi hadn't had many friends over the course of his life. He wasn't sure why, but people irritated him at times to no end, which was why the rather attractive redhead normally found himself without the company of others. However, he did happen to have one good friend, whom he decided to drop in on after a confusing response from Allen Walker and a monotonous day at his place of work.
"You look like shit," said Kanda Yuu, when he emerged from his sleek, marble building in the center of Chicago. Lavi couldn't help but grin at his friend's coarseness.
"I missed you too," Lavi replied to the Japanese man. He felt underdressed in his thermal and Carhart jacket. Not to mention his pants were embarrassingly dirty with mud and dust. Normally, Lavi would not feel such inferiority, but when Kanda looked well groomed with his hair brushed and suit spotless, the redhead did experience a feeling that he had gotten the short end of the stick in his occupation. "How's the business been going?"
"Rather well," Kanda replied in a neutral tone. He wasn't haughty at all, even though Lavi knew he could have been. Maybe Yuu was being humble because he felt like being snobby would be a waste of his time in comparison to someone as lowly as Lavi. Either that or they were better friends than Lavi thought. "But I've come to the realization that you haven't built shit since we graduated. Or should I say, you have only built shit. Townhouses? You didn't go to school for that." Well, so much for friendship.
"Ha, well, you know…" Lavi said, with lack of anything else to say. He had planned on getting drunk that night just to fill the time and Kanda was willing to do so when Lavi proposed going to the bar. It led to a smoky atmosphere behind brown bottles, empty glasses, and too loud music playing from the jukebox nearby.
"So, what have you really been up to?" Kanda asked Lavi, after they'd had a few shots. The only way to get the normally stoic man to speak was to get him drunk. And Kanda was very drunk, Lavi knew, because he had explained his entire last few years at his company in great detail. Also, Kanda never asked about him, unless he'd had at least three drinks, which Lavi was sure he had exceeded by now.
"Well…I bought a house," said Lavi. Kanda actually looked somewhat surprised, which appeared out of place on his face. It was funny to see Yuu act so human after knowing his robotic behavior for so long. Lavi took another sip of his beer before continuing: "The Lake House, actually."
"That old project, huh?" asked Yuu, seeming now to be rather uninterested as he ordered another drink. Kanda saw the place once, a long time ago, and Lavi recalled that he had not liked it much. He said that the light was too bright.
"Yeah," said Lavi, drinking the rest of his beer. "I also have a dog."
"You're stupid," said Kanda, snorting into his drink. Lavi laughed, shaking his head as he lined up their empty bottles. Yuu would think he was stupid for such a thing, but someone successful wouldn't understand how lonely Lavi was by himself. Having a dog was a welcome relief from the silence, actually.
"I also sort of met a guy," Lavi added, as nonchalantly as possible. Yuu was fine with him being "a little bit bent" but he didn't like talking about Lavi's relationships with other men. It made him uncomfortable, he said all the time, because he was straight. But Lavi had to wonder if this was the case. Especially when Kanda took such good care of his grooming habits and long hair and sometimes, when he was so drunk, that Kanda would put his arm around Lavi's shoulder and say things a straight friend shouldn't say to his friend. Shaking these thoughts aside, Lavi smiled and nudged Kanda, adding: "In fact, he lives close by…" After a few more drinks, Yuu was agreeable enough to walk a few blocks to Racine Avenue. When they reached 1620, beneath a flickering light post, Lavi stood in awe and wonderment at what laid before his eyes.
"What is this?" Kanda asked, looking grumpy and puzzled. A bit of drunken humor escaped him when he added: "Should we ring the doorbell?" The two of them were standing on the corner of North Racine Avenue and 31st Street before a construction site. On the side of a freshly built brick wall, there was an advertisement for comfortable new living in spacious apartments that would be completed by the year 2005. Lavi pulled out the letter in his pocket and compared the address. 1620 North Racine stared back at him from the envelope, matching the brass numbers and letters on the new wall.
The place where Allen lived was not in existence yet.
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The next afternoon, after taking a long walk with Timcanpy through the woods, Allen checked the letterbox to see if the mailman had been by. There was nothing in there except for a simple piece of paper that read:
February 17th, 2004
Dear Mr. Walker,
I went to 1620 N. Racine Avenue last night. Nice place. Or at least, I assume it will be once it's been built, which won't be for another eighteen months or so. Maybe you've gotten the address wrong since you seem to have gotten the date wrong, too.
What am I missing here?
Lavi Bookman
Frustrated, Allen stomped away from the box and into the house, his mind racing with so many different ideas. It was impossible to imagine someone living two years in the past, right? After meditating on it, Allen figured that he could play this game as well. Timcanpy, confused, followed him as he went about the house with pacing steps in an attempt to find out just what was truly going on.
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The following day, Lavi checked the mailbox again. Inside, he found not only a letter, but a long, orange scarf shoved into the back as well. Pulling it out with a strange expression upon his face, Lavi put it around his shoulders and opened the folded paper with anticipation and curiosity.
February 18th, 2006
Okay, my mystery correspondent. Let's see if you're telling the truth. If you are, then you'll definitely need this. In 2004, at the end of February, there was a freak snow storm and everyone got sick. So, doctor's orders: stay warm and dry, have lots of fluids and rest.
Allen Walker
"Snow?" Lavi said aloud. The mutt by his ankles gave a bark when he said this and Lavi looked at him as if he had said something ridiculous. "Snow at this time of year? You've got to be kidding." The sky was wrong for it and the weather channel had called for sunny skies and an early spring.
All day at work, while they rushed to finish townhouses that all looked the same, for families that all looked the same, Lavi couldn't help but wonder if what Allen said was true. The letter was still fresh in his mind, burning a hole in his pocket. Nothing made sense: the address, the paw prints, the mysterious box, the impending snowstorm, the words that Kanda had said to him last night before he left: Lavi, you should stay…
"Mr. Bookman?" asked a voice beside him, breaking him from his train of thought. His aid, a pretty Oriental girl named Lenalee Lee, stood beside him, clipboard in hand. She was nice, but a little nosy when it came to everyone's business. Especially Lavi's. And if Lavi would have been inclined toward her sex, he might have gone for it, but since he wasn't, her constant flattery and interest was borderline annoying.
"Yes, Lenalee," said Lavi, looking at his blueprints more closely so that he didn't have to meet her eyes. She was always staring at him with such adoration. It was a bit unsettling.
"I—saw you have a dog," she replied, seeming a bit flustered, as if she was not going to say that to begin with, but had changed her mind half-way through. Lavi looked up and blinked, turning his head to look at his truck, where a big bag of puppy chow sat in the front seat.
"Yeah. I took in a stray a few days ago," Lavi answered with his nicest smile. He didn't want to speak his mind, where he would probably ask her, with forced civility, to mind her own business. She beamed at him when he answered and Lavi thought she could rival the sun with that. No doubt about her being gorgeous, but the redhead could not find himself attracted to her in any way beyond her ability to manage everyone's time efficiently. Maybe he could hook her up with Yuu.
"I love dogs! They're so cute," she was saying, bringing him to the present. Lavi had the sneaking suspicion that she was most likely a cat person, just pretending to like dogs in order to—why did he always get hit on by women? Instead of asking this aloud, he merely nodded and let the subject die, going back to his supervising without much more to say. But she apparently had a lot more to say. "Um, so I heard that you moved out in the country."
"Yeah, to a little house out on a lake."
"That sounds nice! Do you like it?"
"Of course. It's a beautiful house."
"That's great! Maybe one day—" Before she could finish that statement, Lavi noticed that one of the men on the Bacco was close to a waterline. It would set them back weeks if it was hit, so he hurried through the mud to stop him. It was also such a good excuse to get away from the question Lenalee would be certain to ask. The girl in question, startled by this sudden escape, ran after him, only to have her heels sink into the mud to her ankles. Once Lavi had prevented the disaster, he turned around to see Lenalee practically in tears over the predicament. They must have been expensive shoes.
"You need to get some boots," Lavi said, smiling at her again, before turning to talk to the operator. He was about to lecture him on being careful, knowing the area, all the manual stuff, when Lavi realized that the driver's attention was not on him at all.
"What the?" said the man beside him. His face was turned skywards, as every yellow hard hat in the area soon followed suit.
Above them, the gray sky had started to snow.
By the time Lavi got home, the blizzard was in full force and he barely managed to get inside before he froze where he stood. From his kitchen window, he watched as the snow fell out over the lake, setting the beautiful landscape into a white out of wind and precipitation. The dog barked by his knee, as if to say: I told you so.
"Crazy," Lavi mumbled to himself as he watched, stirring the chicken soup he had on the stove. Sneezing, he grumbled for the rest of the night to himself, pulling the orange scarf around his neck for warmth.
There was no way this could be happening.
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The next morning, after Allen had had his cup of coffee and gone on his walk with Timcanpy, he checked the mailbox. Inside, written hastily on a piece of paper covered in small snowflakes were the words: Can this be happening?
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Lavi was halfway to the house when the red lever on his mailbox suddenly stood at attention. Surprised, Lavi rushed across the dock, the golden pup at his heels, yipping playfully in the snow. With cold, shaking hands, Lavi pulled the note from the box. On the back of the paper he had mailed not even moments before was the simple question:
Why not?
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I rather hate this at the moment, but I'm unsure why. Let me know your thoughts!
(Re-edited: 8/9/09. I don't hate this anymore, now that all the hanging prepositions are gone. Finally!)
Dhampir72