Whatever it was happened on that boat with Vera, few people knew. But the whole town knew that whatever it was - whatever Vera did to Ryan, it caused him to leave town and never return. His parents were close lipped and angry eyed. They sent Ryan to live with his grandparents in St Paul. He finished high school there, then went on to college. He went to work for a big company and did well.
Vera still hung around town. Drank at Auerbachs Tavern. Drove too fast on the lake shore highway. Got in fights. Vera was tall and brown and hard bodied and hard eyed.
White? Black? Indian? Asian? Hispanic? Male? Female?
None of the above, most people said.
One thing brought Ryan home and that was the summer semi pro baseball games. He loved the old ball field, the Koreans who made up most of the team and played barefoot.
After the game there was a bonfire by the lake and Ryan would sit with old friends - now lawyers and teachers and bums and they would drink and joke far into the night.
When the league folded no one saw Ryan for years and Vera began to look old.
It took Granma Sundberg's 100th birthday to bring Ryan and Vera together again. The town was full of Winnebagos from California and Texas and New York. The camp ground was full and RVs were parked along the edges of the lake shore highway for half a mile in each direction. There were many descendants of great grandmother Sundberg, including Vera and Ryan.
When Vera washed up drowned on the beach there was no one would say they had seen Ryan and Vera leave Sorensen's landing that morning in the misty first light. No one.
Ryan was gone. Gone back to the cities the night before, his parents said.
There was an autopsy. Drowned drunk.
No services were held.