Chapter 13
Gary Miller sat rigidly behind the steering wheel of his Mustang, trying not to grip it so tightly that the others would notice. It was the first day of summer vacation, and Gary, Billy Martin, Steve Blinder, and Mike Stoneman were on their way to mischief. The other boys wanted to go skinny dipping at Harve Sanders' pond. Harve would be gone, working on the big landscaping project at the Jackson Hill Library and Community Center. It was just barely warm enough for swimming, and Gary had much preferred the idea of stealing some beer from his dad’s cooler and going down by the river to fish and skip stones.
Gary was mortally afraid of water, afraid in the way a child fears the dark or old people fear death when they have not spent a life well lived. He remembered his brother’s drowning vividly, although he was only five at the time. In fact, it was his most vivid memory. That and his father beating his mother near to death for having been drunk when it happened. Never mind that the old bastard was six sheets to the wind himself. It was her job to watch the kids, and Mattie had wandered unnoticed down to the river’s edge while his parents and younger brother picnicked on deviled eggs and peanuts. And the parents on vodka-laced iced tea. Mattie’s screams of terror still haunted Gary’s eighteen-year-old nightmares.
He drove slowly down the back road toward the pond, praying for Harve to come home early or for Big Jim Burch to decide to come looking for them. No such luck. They arrived at the pond unseen and parked under a large beech tree which hid the car from view of Harve’s house, about a quarter mile away.
Missouri in the late spring is a wondrous place. Green grasses mix with wild flowers, and trees spout pollen in all directions. It was getting on toward summer, and the wind was pleasant with just a slight edge of brisk. The cottonwoods were nearly ready to unleash their allergy-inducing fluff balls on the world, and the bulrushes were already poking up in the pond. They all knew that the pond was deep in the middle, though how deep no one was quite sure. But the edges were shallow, and bullfrogs perched on lily pads among the rushes, fat and content on a heavy diet of late spring mosquitoes and water walkers.
Billy Martin pulled a fat joint from his shirt pocket and lit it with a wooden match. After taking a long pull, he passed it on and the boys shared it one after another, waiting for the blissful hit that would provide the courage required to strip and jump into the water. Gary also took a hit but made no move toward undressing. When prodded by the others he demurred, claiming an infection from a barn accident. He pulled up his pant leg to reveal the bandaging.
"Yeah," said Billy. "You don’t know what’s in that pond. Might make the infection spread to your balls."
They all fell on the ground with laughter, over-reacting as the pot hit their juvenile brains.
"Maybe his dick will fall off too," snorted Mike.
And again they all collapsed in raucous laughter.
The other boys, now filled with cannabis-fueled courage, peeled off their jeans and shirts, and one by one leaped shrieking into the still cold water. Gary sat on the hood of his restored muscle car, keeping a wary eye out for the sheriff or, more likely, the owner of the pond. He allowed his mind to wander, musing over the considerable charms of one Miss Bridgette Stevens. Bridgette was the daughter of Jen Stevens (now Harper), who worked at Morey’s Diner, and Will Stevens, who had gone off to war in Afghanistan and come home in a plain pine box. Jen and Bridgette struggled through that first year of grief and shock, moving back in with Jen’s parents. Jen worked full time at the diner, and Bridgette sometimes filled in on busy tourist weekends.
While puberty sneaked up on most of the girls he knew, it hit Bridgette like a wrecking ball. One day she was flat, freckled, and gangly; the next, she had two glorious mounds of fleshy wonderfulness on her chest, and her hips swelled just enough in all the right places.
Gary knew that Bridgette was not going to be an easy conquest. She was a good girl. Bridgette was genuinely good. She tutored the little kids, protected them from bullying, helped her neighbors, and was unfailingly cheerful. And he wanted her. Not just in a fleshly way. He wanted her to like him, to want to be with him. The other guys would tease him unmercifully if they knew how he felt. They all lusted after her with a verbal vulgarity that nearly broke his temper. They referred to her as Miss Goody Two-Shoes, which also infuriated him, though he was careful never to show it.
Gary wondered if having the admiration and loyalty of these boys was worth the role he had to play. He knew he would have to give it up if he were to have any chance with Bridgette. He had so far refused her pleas to join in the tutoring sessions or the food deliveries for some of the older residents of Harper's Landing. But he felt himself weakening, and not for the first time wondered why. Certainly her physical charms were breathtaking, but she was most definitely not his type. Or at least he had thought so. Now he found himself longing to find some purpose, some goodness that would stand him in good stead with her. He needed some kindness in his life, something to soothe the rage he felt toward his drunken and abusive father. And his mother, who refused to stand up for him or to bring a complaint against his dad when he beat or shook her.
He brought his attention back to the three boys splashing and swimming in the pond. He felt ashamed of his fear, of being unable to let it go and jump in with the others. He doubted he would ever be able or willing to go swimming anywhere. As he watched he saw a strange swirl forming in the middle of the pond. He stood up on the hood to get a better look. It looked like a whirlpool, and he began to shout to the others.
The three boys felt the pull of the current and started toward shore. Their laughter quickly turned to screams of terror as the vortex grew larger and stronger. Gary jumped to the ground and grabbed a fallen limb beside the car. He ran to the edge of pond, and extended the branch out to Billy Martin, who was closest to him. Billy caught hold, and Gary pulled. The strength of the growing whirlpool was too strong, and he watched in horror as Billy, Steve, and Mike were sucked into a large gaping hole. Gary jumped into his Mustang as the whirlpool grew larger and the pond started lapping at the tires. Before he could start the engine, the raging current pulled the car with him in it into the pond, where it slowly sank under the surface. Gary struggled and finally got the door open, but when he started swimming upward, something grabbed his leg and pulled him deeper into the pond. The water continued to swirl for a few more minutes, slowing, until the surface of the pond was once again still. The mustang was completely submerged. The bullfrogs began their spring song once again.