Hick - Andrea Portes [39]
“You like swimming, Luli?”
“Yes sir. Yes I do.”
I am just itching to get into that blue sunshine water and wash the day off in one blue splash.
“Well, get in.”
He grabs my drink and pushes me into the pool, clothes and everything. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to laugh or take offense. I come up from the water and turn back to him.
“Thanks, Mister.”
“Oh, now, c’mon. Just playin a little. Look, swim all you want, make yourself at home. I’ll be inside with my sweet honey-bride. Hah, poet and didn’t even know it.”
Boy, he sure knows how to be a jackass.
He turns and walks inside, leaving me to wonder if by bride he meant Glenda and, if so, why she has so plainly neglected to mention the fact that she’s married. And, especially, to this guy.
He looks back, calling out from the sliding door, “Oh, and Luli, there ain’t a soul around here for miles.”
He winks and slides the door closed, waving from inside the glass.
Weirdo.
I stay there, treading water, wondering what the hell Glenda has got me into here. I duck my head underwater and swim to the deep end. When I come up for air, Eddie appears from God knows where. He looks down at me, snide, hovering above. The sun shines bright behind, turning him black.
“Well, you heard what the man said. ‘Nobody for miles.’”
He chuckles to himself, knocking back the tequila, pretending it’s all a big funny joke. I stay there, frozen, squinting up at the sun like some kind of teenage tadpole.
“Not a soul, kid. I guess you could count me, but I think it might be debatable whether or not I count as a soul.” He takes another swig. “You know what? I think you like me.”
Oh Lord, here goes.
“Yeah, right.” I laugh it off.
“I think you find me . . . worthy of note.”
“Worthy of note?”
“You know . . . exciting.”
He smiles, skinny, burning a hole in my eyes.
TWENTY
Iswim to the shallow end and get out, trying to act casual. But I’m stumbling over my feet now, tripping my way over towards the house. Behind me Eddie’s staring straight through me to somewhere beneath my skin. Something like shame is rustling up inside me, blushing and quivering, shaking me into feeling guilt for God knows what. I grab the screen door and try to slide it open. it’s locked.
I turn around, expecting to see Eddie there, caught up and clawing. But instead of fangs and a full moon with lightning, he’s just sitting there on the other side of the pool, Indian-style, not even looking my way. I try the door again, no luck, and make my way over the crabgrass to the front. Halfway there, I hear noises from inside the house, strange and stilted, like someone’s trying to move a dresser. I peek in one of the windows, hiding in the curtain shade.
It’s dark inside and I can barely see her. it’s that late-afternoon light creeping into night, where the outside’s yellow bright but the inside’s getting ready for dinner. she’s got her back towards me and she’s moving up and down, up and down, not wearing a stitch. I stand there, gawking dumb. Her back looks like one of those lions you see on National Geographic shows, carved out and smooth. The muscles twitch and twitch back again when she moves, up down, up down, over and over.
I keep looking.
I hear something behind me and jump back, startled and embarrassed. You’re not supposed to watch this part. But there’s nothing there. Some trick of the wind or maybe just my guilt creeping up, tapping me on the shoulder. I sneak around the front of the house, shamey, tip-toeing my way through the gleaming frogs and fishponds. The front door is wide open, knocking around