Up at the lake

Chunks of ice, floating yesterday afternoon, lay locked in the sidewalks after early morning cold returned them to slippery steps on the way to the coffee shop. Cardinals sing their song of this season blended with the chimes of the bell tower as he finally gets to the dry pavement. Lifting his head looking forward to see farther ahead than just the next step. In the neighborhood of the city, remnants of organic sounds try to hold on, interacting with the tires on the Saturn, or 100000 mile Volvo. The winter bicyclist passes, he’s ridden through the depths of the cold of January, clatters and clunks down the street, hat on but jacket open, as he heads toward 30 degrees.

Wonder if Andy will call today for lunch? No limo runs in the middle of the day means it could happen. They never meet more than a couple times per week otherwise, how could you answer the question, “What’s new?”

Last of the boxes are placed on the luggage rack fastened to the roof of the 55 Pontiac station wagon. His mom and her neighbor friend loaded up all the kids for a week up on Bluefish. Ellie, mother of a traditionally untraditional catholic family, was close friends with her priest; father Hibbs, who owned a family cabin on the lake. No room, except for the two families, fit into the seats inside. A tarp covered the carrier, protecting the luggage. Ropes crisscrossed the canvas securing it so rain and dirt stayed off its content. No one gave a second thought if it would still be there after the 150 mile trip.

Jesse and Willie stood alone as the males of the party of nine. You could hardly say the two of them had any influence being only 9 and 11. Blonde haired, blue eyed, Jesse was the cute little mamma’s boy of the group. Cuteness, a card he played many times around his older sister’s friends, made it comfortable for him to be around. Little did any of them know his innocence was melting away like ice on a warm sunny day.

“I want to sit in the back”
“No I don’t want to sit next to him”
“You sit up front with mom, your small enough to sit in the middle”

Jesse ended up having the adventure of the third seat, it faced back rather than forward, so you viewed where you’ve been, not where you’re going.
After an hour, a little over half way, the canvas tarp began flapping, 60 mile an hour wind began pulling it from its tie downs.

“Mom the tarp is flapping”

Each comment put little stress on the mothers in the front seat; they hoped it would make it the few miles to their destination.

Looking out, Jesse saw the corners of the cover, snapping from the wave of wind traveling down its length, each mile, more of it, crept down the back window.

Lifting himself out of his seat he turned around looking up front to see if anyone was paying attention to what was going on outside. No one seemed to notice. For an hour the racket continued, everyone ignored the noise.

An unfamiliar thud made Ellie look in the side mirror, catching a glimpse of one of the boxes in the carrier, flying up into the air. Jesse looked up in time to see the box of clothes deploy like a parachute once you pull the rip cord, each piece dispersing into a cloud of shirts, shorts and underwear, floating to the ground, covering both lanes of the highway.

“Mom a box flew off the top.” He said.

Heads twisted to see who won the box flying contest.

“Oh my gosh, those are my clothes” said his sister Janet.

Cranking the wheel, the car hit the gravel shoulder, the brakes stopped the tires as they grumbled over the stones to a stop. All the doors flew open, the kids piled out to collect the scattered pieces. Embarrassed beyond belief, Janet hurried to retrieve her wardrobe she would wear for the week.

“Get out the highway” both moms screamed, as a truck approached.

Standing on the side, everyone watched as the big black tired truck passed by, running over the scattered array, lifting a few pieces into the air from the back draft as it passed.

Willie, pinching the elastic waistband between the tips of his thumb and forefinger,
held up one of her white panties yelling,

“Look at the tire mark on this one.”

Humiliated, Janet ran over to him, disgustingly grabbing it out of his hands, turning away, and returning to collecting what still lay on the road.

Looking on; Jesse thought about the garments flying into the air, realizing he had never noticed the white panties before, always hidden away in her underwear drawer.

After stuffing everything back in the tattered windblown box, Janet held it on her lap for the completion of the trip. The moms tied down the tarp, then loaded up the car and headed back down the road.

15 minutes later, turning left off the main highway; they headed up the last hill before the lake. All eyes were fixed on the crest, yelling and cheering as the blue of the water capped the top of the tree, once they went over the top.

Overjoyed and relieved the trip was over, Jesse jumped out the back window before anyone could open the back hatch door. Janet couldn’t wait to get her clothes out to see what were ruined.

Oldest of the Anderson girls, Trudy worked the day they left, so she drove up on her own the next day. While down at the lake playing in the water, Jesse saw her descend the 70 stairs down the hill from the cabin. Looking at her, dressed in short white shorts, dark brown hair and round dark sunglasses, he couldn’t hold back his excitement for her arrival. Running over, he stood next to her to listen as she told her mom about the trip from home.

Bending down to look him straight in the eye, she said “Hi! Jesse have you been having fun at the lake?”

With a big smile he said “yes!”

Deciding it was time for lunch, everyone headed back up. Next to the back door of the log cabin Trudy parked her car, a red 56’ Thunderbird.

Shiny, reflecting the few rays of sun that snuck around the branches of the pine trees, Jesse couldn’t resist dragging his fingertips over the smooth surface, from the rounded tail fins to the front headlights.

Watching him do this ogling, she said, “After lunch, do you want to go for a ride?”

Imagining how cool it would be to cruise down the road, with the top down, wind blowing past, he replied, “Yes”

Time moved so slowly during lunch. He never lost contact with the image of the T bird or him riding down the road in it. His attraction for what she could do for him, lingered. Enthusiastically sitting close to her, he watched her every move. She knew the control she had over him.

Once everyone pushed their chairs out from the lunch table, he asked, “Can we go now.”

Looking over at him she smiled, “let’s go”

Simultaneously they opened their doors; he watched as she slid into her low seat, behind the red steering wheel. Between them sat a chrome shifter topped by a black round ball. His eyes couldn’t move off its strange location coming out of the floor. Turning the key the roar of the engine caused his eyes to lift to her bare foot toes with the bright red nail polish, stretching to reach the gas pedal, pressing down to rev the engine. Childish enthusiasm tickled every nerve in his body as they pulled out onto the road.

Long tanned legs, red nail polish, pointed toes, red sports cars and parachuting panties were burned into the synapse of his brain forever.