Gaping, rocking, spitting out seeds

(**Thank you, Two for Tuesdays, for the writing prompt.**)

It is summer, April sweating in June with Marybess, Daniel, Jimbo and me all at the lake, eating watermelon. Jim’s brother, little Bob, is sitting in a tube with watermelon pink staining his 7 year old belly.

April and Marybess are having a contest: Find the best looking boy walking by, make him look at you, make him gape and bobble his head like a brown felt bulldog on a rear window shelf. Make him do it without appearing to notice him at all. Daniel, Jimbo and I are the unbiased judges of their success.

Boy number four and his friend, number seven (a cruel and inconsistent rating system has gone into effect) wander by. A few blotchy red spots and protuberant wrist bones on big boy hands, but good hair and “nice smiles,” all agree.  Good enough for practice.

Number four and number seven wander self-consciously onto the lake’s edge and stand there looking pink and naked as shellfish. April and Marybess are pulling on the edges of their suits, arranging assorted body parts and getting out sunscreens and lip glosses.  Four scratches his neck; seven roars into the water suddenly and bravely, soaking little Bob. Bob yells caca-head loser insults at them. They are bobbing along in the water now, rocking in imaginary waves in the greenish shallow lake.

Boy number one appears suddenly, the undisputed god of seventh grade summer beach vacation, in the water near four and seven. He’s a nut brown boy with long new muscles and green eyes. Even from the shore, the girls can see his eyelashes, heavy and sparkling with lake water. He and numbers four and seven rush each other, dunking in and out of the water, ignoring April and Marybess altogether, in a frenzy of pretty boy time.

Later at the bonfire, where youth counselors are inattentive and slightly stoned, Jim, Daniel and pretty boys one, seven and four share their pilfered beer and watch the girls, sitting in the firelight, bobbing their heads, sweating lightly, surprised. Little Bob sits separate from them all, spitting watermelon seeds through the gap, where a front tooth is missing, into the fire.


4 Responses to “Gaping, rocking, spitting out seeds”

  1. 1 anthonynorth April 22, 2008 at 9:02 am

    An enjoyable time well described.

  2. 2 Teresa April 22, 2008 at 3:04 pm

    Thank you, Anthony, and welcome to Cuentos.

  3. 3 Heather April 24, 2008 at 4:16 am

    I love this – great story, very true (if one can remember back that far)!

    Thanks for being part of TFT!


  4. 4 Teresa April 24, 2008 at 5:02 pm

    Thanks so much, Heather. I like your TFTs, expect to see me again!

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