Three years ago I sadly wrote a column reporting the disappearance of my favorite pair of flip-flops. Yes, it was silly to waste newspaper ink to talk about summer footwear, but these were a very special pair of flip-flops. They were made of a harder rubber than the usual flip-flop. They had a neat flower pattern on the sole. They were more comfortable and stylish than the average flip-flop. But what made the flip-flops worthy of an Unorganized Territory
was the unusual way they were lost.
We were spending Memorial Day weekend 2007 at the McFarland Lake cabin of our friends, Dave “Binky” and Annie Hess. We had a fabulous visit—four-wheeling, hiking, fishing—and of course wading and floating around their dock with our granddaughter, RaeAnne and her cousins. We did more floating than wading, because although the McFarland swimming beach is smooth and sandy, the rest of the lake is “natural”—in other words, it is slimy and mucky. Which led to the disappearance of my flip-flop.
First, my young friend, Jaycee, lost a shoe. She stepped off her floating toy and her tiny foot stuck in the slippery sand. She screamed and wiggled and freed her foot, but her shoe stayed below the surface. It was submerged for a moment and then, with an odd little glug sound, her little blue water shoe popped back up.
A few minutes later I stepped on a similarly mucky spot. As I wrote three years ago, sluuurp— my foot was sucked down into the slime. It was a disgusting feeling. And momentarily scary, as my foot was trapped in the mud. I wiggled and wiggled and finally got free—also without my flip-flop. No problem, I thought. It too, will pop up soon.
I was wrong. I waited…and waited…and waited. My flipflop never popped up from its murky trap. Even after everyone exited the water and the sediment settled, there was no sign of my special shoe. All weekend I kept checking. An enterprising friend took a rake down to the dock to stir things up, thinking the flip-flop might float to the surface. No luck.
Disheartened, I was going to throw the remaining flipflop away. What good is one really nice flip-flop? But Binky wouldn’t hear of it. He was sure the flip-flop would eventually float back to me. So he tucked the flip-flop away in the cabin somewhere.
I wrote my column about it and asked folks to look for my errant footwear, but I didn’t really think anyone would ever find it. Especially after the summer came to an end…and the next…and the next.
Everyone at the lake knew about the missing flip-flop, though, and we laughed about the McFarland triangle, which eats flip-flops. When the subject came up, I’d argue with Binky, telling him to toss the other shoe. He refused and we all thought he was being silly. It didn’t make sense to keep it.
Until…Memorial Day weekend 2010. After a weekend of fun with friends and family, Binky was spending a few minutes alone on his dock, enjoying the peace and quiet. He glanced down at the water and to his amazement saw—a pink flipflop!
Now even Binky couldn’t believe that he was right; that the flip-flop would return. So he plucked it out of the lake and took it to the cabin. He went and got the other flip-flop and voila! It matched!
All of the folks at the lake had a great time plotting on how to return the flip-flops to me. They thought about having it travel around the world with “ransom” notes as some jokesters have done with garden gnomes or lawn flamingoes. Fortunately they decided to just give them back to me so I could enjoy them this summer.
So Binky and Annie wrapped them up in pretty paper and presented them to me as a gift. And a wonderful gift it was. Amazingly, residing in the muck all that time didn’t wreck the flip-flop. The flower pattern on the prodigal flip-flop is a little darker than it was, but overall it is in terrific shape. I once again have my lovely pink flip-flops back.
But the mystery remains. Where was the flip-flop all this time? What held it under the water? And what finally brought it back to the surface?
We may never know. But I do know that I am glad that my stubborn friend didn’t throw away the other one. Thanks, Bink!
Remember, the greatest gift is
not found in a store nor under
a tree, but in the hearts of true
friends.
Cindy Lew
Leave a Reply