Loni and Me

It was hot that day, with the kind of heat that can make people do crazy things, things that on an ordinary day they likely wouldn’t do, things that could change their lives. With the kind of heat where the air feels more solid than air, full and heavy, like a velvet curtain or a cotton sheet on a clothesline left out in the rain. Saturated, weighted with wetness. Not the kind of desert heat that scorches skin and sand, but the kind of hotness that punches, knocks the wind out, drags you down, so you don’t feel like moving, so even breathing is hard. But I’m not trying to blame the heat or even the stranger we met that day. I’m just trying to tell my story.

Loni and me, we didn’t let the heat stop us. We left our trailer park pedaling like we were ready for adventure, or on a mission, like we didn’t even feel the heat, like we weren’t drippin’ in sweat, it stingin’ our eyes, saltin’ our tongues, soakin’ our t-shirts and shorts, our towels useless, tied tight round our bikes’ handlebars. We were young and off from school for the summer, and we were excited, going on our own for the first time, to the swimmin’ pond.

No tellin’ who’d be there. Most folks went to the big lake to swim and camp, not the buggy, mucky little pond. It was usually quiet, outside of some boys from school that sometimes fished there, we knew from the times we’d been before, with Ma or with Susie, Loni’s grandma, who was like a ma to her. When we saw them boys there, we just looked sidelong and never said nothing to them, not with our Mas around watching over us like we were little kids, and our Mas always telling us not to mess with boys.

Living in a trailer park, you might get the idea that we weren’t too smart or pretty or cared for, but you’d be wrong. We had no Pa living with us, not me or Loni, it’s true, but maybe we were better off for it. You see, both of our Pas were in jail, over in Dalton, not more ‘an ten miles away. We saw them occasionally, on visiting days when Ma and Susie took us to Dalton to sit for a few hours and eat snacks from vending machines and play cards with them. Not all of us together, that wasn’t allowed. I sat with my ma and pa, Loni with hers, at separate tables. But I would look over at Loni and catch her eye, or just watch her all smiley with him, wondering why. She told me what he used to do to her, but I guess she figured that was past, and now things were different. Now he seemed happy to see her, and real nice to her on visits. My Pa was happy to see me too, and he hadn't ever hurt me, only a swat now and then when I was little. But still, I got bored visitin’ Pa, didn’t much like sittin’ there all afternoon, when I could be swimmin’ or out playin’ or watchin’ TV.

But gettin’ back to what I was sayin’, me and Loni, we had it pretty good. Ma and Susie watched out for us, gave us plenty to eat, dressed us nice, taught us right from wrong. Took us to the library and made us read every day. And besides our Mas, we had each other.

I can’t really say who was prettier then, when we were thirteen, but I can’t deny, as we grew, Loni was the beauty. With her shiny dark hair, long legs and tan skin. And eyes bright blue as the bluebonnets I used to see growin’ wild along the highway when I lived out in Texas, before me and Ma moved east to Virginia to be near Pa. But I wasn’t shabby either, with my dirty blond curls, fair skin and green eyes.

That might be why, on that boilin’ hot day, that stranger took an interest in us. He was more a man than a boy, I guess, but young, like maybe he just turned nineteen, and good lookin’ himself, with his square face, lean waist, carved muscles, and wearin’ only blue jeans, low on his hips when we spotted him. Loni and me'd come up ten yards behind him, hiding our bikes in the brush near the road, when she pointed to him and put her finger to her lips for me to shush. He didn’t see us as he dropped his pants, I mean down to nothin’, and ran and dove out into the pond, his penis floppin’ as he jumped in. We’d never seen a man naked before, well not in the flesh anyway. What surprised me most was how I liked what I was seein’.

By then, hot as gumbo and sticky as molasses, swattin’ at the mosquitos buzzin’ round our knees, we needed to cool off in that water, but we waited for him to come out, watched him sit on a log in the sun, the bark probably scratchin’ his bare butt, then pick up his clothes and dress, his T-shirt clinging to his damp skin like Saran wrap. But he didn’t move on, left his boots by the log and sat some more. So we grew tired of waiting, came up, holdin’ our towels, wantin’ to swim. He eyed us up and down, tryin’ to figure out our story.

“What cha girls doing here?” he asked, like he owned the place, like it was him who came all the time, and us just happenin’ along for the first time.

“This is our swimmin’ spot. We’re here to swim,” I said. I didn’t tell him it was the first time we’d come alone.

“Is that right? Well go ahead then. Go swimming. The water feels good.”

So I figured it was his turn to watch us. We already had our suits on, so just pulled our sweaty clothes off, dropped them on a grassy patch near our towels and ran in. The muddy bottom was roiled up, so I kept my eyes closed while we swam under and out as far as we could till we almost couldn’t stand, the way we always liked to, racing to see who could beat who. It used to be me, slidin’ through the brackish water slippery as a fish, but now Loni’s arms could far outstretch mine.

“I won!” Loni yelled, passing me and springing up from the surface, head sleek as a seal, face glowing, gasping for breath.

“Yeah, so what?” I said, like it was no big deal, and it wasn’t. I didn’t mind losing to Loni, because she was never a boaster and besides, she let me take charge in most things. Like when we played a game it was by my rules, and when we were deciding between popcorn and pretzels or root beer and Pepsi, Loni let me pick.

“Back float contest!”

Loni laughed as we stood in the pond’s silky bottom, cool mud squishing between our toes, muddy water lappin’ my shoulders and hittin’ her chest where it swelled over her two fresh little peaches. She knew this one I would win.

Don’t think cause we were playing in the pond that we’d forgot about him. We knew he was watching. We snuck peeks his way as we laid on our backs and relaxed, letting the water gently move us, the sun warm our faces. Usually it was Loni who was more tolerant, never complaining about things, but not when it came to back floats. I had the patience Loni lacked to stay buoyant, like I was one with the water, soft as a cushion on top of the pond, ignoring it splash over my face, blocking out every thought, while Loni’s mind got distracted and energy raced through her limbs, sinking her legs, bringing her down.

“OK, you win,” she said. ‘Let’s race back.”

“Of course I did. Let’s get some sun.” We were at that age when sunbathing, tanning our bodies till our suit strings left white lines that would show later when we wore tube tops to town, made us feel good, cuter than ever.

As she dove under, I gripped her legs, pulling her back to get a head start. She shook me off, my hands skimmin’ her smooth calves as she escaped like a bullet, beat me hands down.

The heat slapped us silly as we stepped laughing out of the water onto the dirty shore. While we dried off and laid our towels out, the stranger looked away like he was interested in the small, stooped black man who was ambling down with a pole to fish off a grassy bank on the distant side of the pond, the only other soul in sight. We paid the stranger no mind too, just sat on our towels and shook our hair dry, laid back and closed our eyes to the sun. But not long after I felt his shadow blocking the rays on my face as I opened my eyes, seeing him standing there like there was something important on his mind.

“How was your swim?” He smiled a nice, friendly smile.

“Real good,” I said, sitting up, smiling back, noticing how he was looking at my breasts, them already nearly as big and round as they ever would be, which was bigger than Loni’s but not too much bigger than average. I didn’t mind him looking, felt kind of excited, if I’m being honest.

Loni nodded and smiled too, which made her face shine pretty as a model’s.

“You got names?” he asked, so we told him.

“Caroline and Loni,” he repeated. “Nice. I’m Bobby,” he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. The smoke smelled good drifting in the sun with the briny seaweed, not the way it smelled when Ma smoked in the trailer, stale and stifling, but like a sweet faint whiff of fresh tobacco growing in a field.

“You live around here?” he asked.

Loni started to look uneasy, like she didn’t want to be there anymore. Her grandma wouldn’t like it, and neither would my ma, but Loni was more fearful than I was, Susie being much stricter than Ma. Sometimes Loni was restricted for three or four days at a time, when Susie punished her for being lazy or disrespectful, which I couldn’t ever see Loni being.

“Not too far,” I said. “What about you?”

“No, I’m in Dalton for business. I’m from Pennsylvania. Heading back in a few days.”

He probably noticed me watching him smoke. “You want one of these?” he asked, holding up his Marlboros.

“Sure,” I said. It wasn’t like I hadn’t smoked a few of Ma’s with Loni.

“You?” he asked Loni.

“No thanks.” Loni never did like smoking.

“How bout we get out of the sun first. Go sit by the trees,” he gestured over to the log. “My jeans feel like they took a hot shower.”

“Don’t ya think we should get going, Caroline?”

“Relax. Be right back,” I told her.

I got up and wrapped my towel around my waist and followed him as Loni laid back, her head turned with her worried eyes watching me.

We walked fifty feet from the pond to the woods and sat on the log, where the shade cooled the temperature at least ten degrees. He gave me a cigarette and lit it for me. I inhaled lightly, careful not to choke like some kind of greenhorn.

“What business you doing in Dalton?” I asked him.

“Why you ask?”

“Just wondered.” I knew better than telling him about my Pa. Whenever anyone heard, they thought less of me, like maybe you did when I started telling this story, unless they had someone in Dalton too. It might surprise you how many folks around there did. I thought he could be one of them, but if he was, he wasn’t sayin’ either.

“I run a carnival. We stopped in Dalton this morning. Opening tomorrow. You heard about it?”

“Nah, I don’t like carnivals much.” That wasn’t really true, but I never had many opportunities to go. I remember just once, before my pa went in, back in Texas.

“You sure are pretty, you know. You and your friend,” he said, looking over at Loni who seemed relaxed now, lying face down on her belly, her body long, slim, but shapely.

“Thanks. She’s prettier than me.” I took a deeper puff and let the smoke out smoothly.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He moved closer and faced me, looking me over like he was eyein’ something precious and new. Then he ran his finger lightly along the top of my triangle bathing suit top, barely brushing my skin, but sending tingles straight to my belly.

“I’d sure like to kiss you. Can I?” he asked, his grey eyes looking right into mine.

I don’t know if it was the heat, or his handsome square jaw, the warm throb I felt, or the smell of his smoky light sweat, but something made me forget what my Ma always said about staying away from boys, about me and Loni sticking together today, not swimming out too far, coming straight home after our swim, as if she hadn’t ever said any of it. I sat still as his lips covered mine, then his hands slipped under my top, his fingers grazing my nipples. My body felt on fire when suddenly he pulled me down behind the log onto the ground, grabbing at my towel. He slipped his pants down faster than the blink of an eye. Something changed in that moment. I no longer liked what I saw. His face was hard and mean, his penis rigid, pressing against me.

I pulled away but for some reason didn’t cry out, as he held tight, saying, “It’s OK”, pushing himself onto me.

“Caroline,” I heard Loni shout, then heard her thrashing through the brush towards us. “Leave her alone!” she yelled and tried to pull at him, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all. He kept stabbing at me while I twisted and squirmed, like he didn’t even hear her. But before he went further, Loni picked up a big heavy stick and whacked his shoulders, his head, again and again.

Holding his head, wipin’ at some tricklin’ blood, he looked surprised, as if he’d forgotten all about Loni, or that there could be anyone around who might stop him. He tried to stand, to reach around and grab her arm, to take the wood from her, but she whacked him hard once more, and he tripped on his pants and fell, his naked ass up, as I stood up crying, graspin’ at my suit, holding on to my towel.

“Let’s go,” Loni said, her face flushed and mad.

We ran off quick, left him lyin’ there just like that. I’m not saying she hurt him too severe, but I don’t think he would ever be the same again.

The fact is, none of us would. We didn’t tell no one what happened ever, until I’m telling it now, but not with Loni’s real name, just in case. We got home late that day, but my ma was still at work and didn’t know the difference. Loni wasn’t so lucky. Her grandma was waiting by the front door, mad as hell, smackin’ Loni with a hard hand, grabbin’ her by her hair, yellin’ how she couldn’t never be trusted again, shoving her into the trailer house. I’d never seen Susie like that. She looked at me watchin’, me feeling awful, then slammed the door behind her.

Susie told Ma we came home late, more than an hour past our given time, but Ma didn’t really give it much mind, just telling me to be more mindful, and don’t I know what a big responsibility she and Susie trusted us with, and that Loni was on house arrest for two weeks. Even Ma thought that was rough. I knew it wasn’t fair, especially me bein’ the one who screwed up that day, but there wasn’t nothin’, anything I could do about it.

The next time I saw Loni was at the prison visiting her Pa, but we didn’t go together that time, or ever again, Susie giving my ma excuses for needin’ to drive her own car, till my ma stopped asking. At the jail, Loni didn’t look my way, but I noticed she wasn’t smiling with her pa the way she usually did. Me and Loni, we didn’t ever go swimming together again either, didn’t even talk much after that, only saying hi when we passed each other in school or on the street. I don’t remember if I thanked Loni for saving me that day, the ride home from the pond now a blur, but if I had to, I’d say no, we never shared a word about it. It just sat there between us. Two years later we completely lost touch, when Pa was released and I moved back to Texas.

So you can imagine how surprised I was when I spotted Loni on TV not long ago, looking so polished, professional, working for a local news station. How she got to Texas and into news reporting, I don’t know, but I was impressed and happy to see it. As for me, I did OK too, though nothing like Loni. I never did let a man touch me again and I found a good girl to love, a lady named Louise. She calls me Sweet Caroline, and we live together in a real nice apartment, with a big pool. But on really hot days, I still think of Loni, and that stranger, and that damn swimmin’ pond.