We Was Just Kids

“Hey, George, get me another one, will you?” Clayton hollered across the scarred wooden bar.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for the night?” He answered with a question of his own.

“God Dammit! George, don’t cut me off. Not today,” Clayton pleaded. A look of panic flashed across his eyes, as if that were a real possibility. 

“Oh, hell. It’s not today, is it?” George asked, removing his old ball cap and rubbing his head.

“You didn’t forget? Did you?”

“Nah, I didn’t forget. I just didn’t realize what day it was is all. You know how it is,” George said, looking ashamed and grabbing both a bottle of bourbon and a second glass.

George dropped a fresh whiskey cube in Clayton’s glass and poured aged bourbon over it. He poured himself three fingers neat. Clayton swirled the brown liquor and ice around, making small circular movements with his lifted tumbler held firmly in his old callused hands. George raised his and clanked it against Clayton’s. The toast that went with the gesture was unspoken between them, because it had stood the same on this day for the past twenty-five years. They nodded to each other before tipping back their glasses each in their own way. George threw his back in one gulp, while Clayton took a respectful pull from his own.

“What in the hell are you two going on about? You look like somebody just died,” Daryl said, getting up from his stool at the other end of the bar. He walked over and took a seat next to Clayton without waiting for an invitation to do so.

Daryl was relatively new in town, all things considered. He’d been there for nearly ten or twelve years, and he was a regular fixture at George’s Bar & Grill. But he had once lived elsewhere, so that made him the new guy in town. The other two men didn’t hold that against him, but it meant there were just some stories he wasn’t privy to.

“We’re just paying our respects to an old memory,” George said.

“Would you shut up?” Clayton exclaimed.

“What? It ain’t like it wasn’t an accident,” George said. “And it ain’t like everyone in town don’t already know, anyway.”

“Oh, come on. Now you got to tell me,” Daryl pleaded. 

“Fine. Whatever. George can tell you all about it if he wants, but I ain’t got to sit here and listen to it,” Clayton said as he stood from the bar and threw back the last of his bourbon.

“Clayton, you know George can’t tell a story to save his life. Why don’t you tell me? You know you 're the best storyteller in town. Besides, it might make you feel better to get it off your chest,” Daryl said, knowing that flattery will get you everywhere with Clayton.

“Hey, I ain’t that bad,” George chimed in, looking a little offended.

“George is pretty terrible at keeping his story straight,” Clayton admitted.

“Yeah, he is,” Daryl agreed.

“You guys know I’m right here, don’t you?” George asked.

“Alright, fine. I’ll tell it so long as you leave that bottle right where it sits. Deal?” Clayton said, plopping back down on his previously abandoned barstool.

* * * * *

The summer of 95 hit us kids like a heat wave. Most of us couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen that summer, but we were finally getting a taste of freedom that had never been ours before. Most of us couldn’t drive yet, but being from a small town, some of our friends were either old enough to drive or their parents didn’t care if they were licensed. That meant we were burning up the roads between our small town and the lake town of Hope Springs. Where else were we going to get the church girls to prance around in two-piece bikinis pretending like they covered more than their bra and panties?

But it wasn’t just the girls that went with us or the lake girls either. We also went for the thrills. You see, there were these cliffs that overlooked Lake Grinder back behind one of those big houses atop the ridge. We used to park a ways down the road and walked down there hauling our towels, ice chests, and whatnot. When we got down to where it dead-ended, we had to sneak across the backyard of what we called the mansion to get to our spot. Once there, we were on Corp of Engineers property and the owners of the house couldn’t say a damn thing about it. But if they ever caught us crossing their lawn, they’d call the law on us for sure. But, that’s a story for another time.

Twenty-five years ago, today, we went up there like we always did. Only that time there was only Julianne so far as girls went. She had ridden up there with me and old George over there in his pa’s square-bodied pickup. George’s dad didn’t mind so much that his boy only had a hardship license—or maybe he didn’t realize that those had restrictions. Hell, I don’t know. Either way, we three rode up there, with Julianne sitting between us on the bench seat. Some other boys followed us up there, piled into a couple of other vehicles.

 Jake was following behind us in that t-top Camaro his pa had bought him for his sixteenth with his buddy, Luke. They’d always been attached at the hip, so we figured that was inevitable. But, when we had all met up down at the Exxon station to figure out who was riding with who, he’d tried his damnedest to get Jules to ride with him in that flashy yellow car. When she turned him down flat and slid her pretty little behind into George’s truck, I thought Jake was going to have a meltdown right there next to the pumps.

Even though Jake and I were on the same ball team, we’d never really been much more than acquaintances stuck in the same Podunk town. So, you can imagine, there was no love lost when I quickly climbed into the truck next to her. She scooted over to the middle, giggling, and we pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the rest of them to bicker over seating arrangements.

Jules had always been a big flirt back in school. She was the type of girl that knew she was pretty and enjoyed the attention of boys. But, she was also smart and destined for a better life beyond the population signs. But, while she was stuck in our small town, she made a sport of teasing us boys. As for us guys, we didn’t shy away from her notice, but few of us ever got any further than second base no matter what lies were told in the locker room.

That day, she was messing with me and George something fierce. She’d gotten herself a new bikini—skimpier than the ones the girls usually wore—and she had asked us if we wanted a sneak peek. Well, shit yeah, we did. She made a big production of unbuttoning her shirt, but kept it pulled tight as she went. When she had finally unfastened the last button, she turned to George and flashed him, yanking one side of her shirt open so he could see. I’ll tell you what, that boy forgot he was driving for a full minute. We damned near missed a curve in the road, because he was gawking at a covered titty.

Lucky for us I was still watching the road, seeing as how she wasn’t showing them to me. I hollered at George to watch the road. He over corrected, and we swerved back and forth across both lanes before he got it back under control. My hollering startled Jules, and she sat back in her seat, clutching the undone halves of her shirt tight against her breasts. I should have been grateful that there hadn’t been any cars in the oncoming lane, but I was pouting about blowing my chances at getting a private titty show—even if they were covered.

For what seemed like the next eternity all they could talk about was how close they had just come to running off the road and wouldn’t it be a sight if they had wrecked and found her with her buttons undone. I propped up against the passenger window, looking off in the distance, sulking about what I hadn’t seen while they carried on. I was so caught up in feeling sorry for myself that I almost didn’t notice when Jules leaned in close to my ear to whisper that she hadn’t forgotten about me. Then for the briefest of moments I felt her lips graze my ear lobe. I shit you not. I don’t know if she’d done it on purpose or if a bump in the road had caused it. I guess it don’t make much difference now. Does it?

The important thing about that brief contact, though, was that it spurred me into action that I, otherwise, would have been to chicken to take. Before I had a chance to think about what had just happened, I turned in my seat and pressed my lips to hers. To be honest, I had never been so damned scared in all my life. Once I came to my senses and realized what I had just done, I just knew that she was going to pull back and let me have it. To my surprise, she draped her arms around my neck and kissed me back. To be even more honest, that had been the first time a girl other than my momma had kissed me. 

We made out like that all the way to where we parked at the end of the road that led to the cliffs behind the mansion. I think my boy George over there slowed down to give us more time, because shortly after we arrived the rest of our crew pulled in behind us. We all seemed to spill out of our cars at the same time.

Everyone grabbed what they could carry, and we started off for the cliffs. The only thing any different was that I carried a bunch of towels under one arm and used my free one to hold Jules’s hand while we walked. Jake walked behind us carrying an ice chest. I never turned around, but I could feel his gaze burning a hole right through our interlocked hands. I tried to brush it off as only my imagination, but a few snarky remarks on the walk confirmed my suspicions. His pot shots were getting harder to ignore, so I was relieved when we came up on the mansion.

We didn’t have any trouble getting across the backyard that time, seeing as how no one was home that day. Thank the Lord for small blessings, right? Anyway, we set up for the day laying out some towels to sit on, when Jake announced a little surprise he’d brought in his ice chest. He’d swiped a bottle of Captain Morgan from his folks liquor cabinet and asked if we wanted a rum and coke. Those of us that had drank before didn’t hesitate, including Jules.

My parents had always been God-fearing people and insisted that I was, too. I’d never drank a drop at that point in my life, afraid that God would strike me down if I did. Apparently my teenage libido didn’t want Jules thinking I was puss, so I said yes when she asked if I wanted one. George, over there, was the only one of us with any sense and declined since he was already driving us around all illegal like.

I should have known something was up when Jake started being all nice to me and Jules, but those drinks were dulling my wits. He kept pouring us drinks, one after the other. Hell, he topped off Jules cup before she could even finish it a couple of times. Before long we were feeling good and plied. That’s when he started harassing Jules—playfully, at first, mind you—but harassing all the same. He kept on her about taking her top off and shit like that.

She laughed it off for a while, probably enjoying the attention, but eventually he started doing more than asking. Would you believe he had the nerve to tug at her top like he was just going to pull it off of her? At first, I think she thought he was just joking around. She swatted his hand away a few times until the last time when his finger got caught up and actually pulled the cup to one side, exposing her to all the guys standing around gawking.

She hurriedly pushed it back into place, but that did nothing to erase that unintentional flash from the minds of a bunch of hormonal boys. The other boys, save me and old George, didn’t have the common decency to keep their yaps shut. Nah. They started in with the cat calling and suggestive whistling. Poor Jules turned a bright shade of red while covering herself with a towel and shouting obscenities at the boys that were teasing her. To this day I don’t know if her cheeks were red from embarrassment or righteous indignation at the way they were acting. I suspect a bit of both, though.

By this point, I had finally recovered enough of my senses to do what I should have done sooner. I puffed up my chest and got all in Jake’s face. It was hard to look intimidating when I was having to look up to him, but I was easily more muscular than he was. You see, Jake’s dad owned a couple of local businesses, so he’d pretty much had everything handed to him his entire life. Me, I come from the ass end of middle class and had to work on farms and mow yards to earn my running around money which came with the added benefit of some wiry muscle wrapped around my shorter stature.

Jake, not used to being told to stop, didn’t hesitate to shove me away from him. I recovered quickly and charged him like a defensive lineman plowing into his gut shoulder first. He came off his feet easier than I had expected and the next thing I knew we were crashing into Jules and all three of us were stumbling toward that cliff. Lucky for me, George reached out and caught me by my feet as we were all going over. If he hadn’t I might not be here to tell this tale.

* * * * *

As the memory washed over him, he hunched over sobbing. Too, choked up to continue.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy,” Daryl said, patting Clayton on the back.

“I’m so sorry. We was just kids, you know? It just happened,” Clayton sniffed.

“Ain’t nobody blaming you,” George said reassuringly.

“The hell they ain’t, but what the hell do they know anyway?” he retorted. Then, he turned to Daryl and asked, “Seeing as how you’ve only had that one beer, do you think you could give me a lift home?”

“Sure. I don’t mind,” Daryl said.

“Thanks. I need to get home and see about Jules. It’s about time for her dinner. Just give me a sec to hit the head, and I’ll be ready,” Clayton said, standing up from the bar and heading toward the restroom.

“George, I’m sorry I brought that up. I didn’t mean to stir things up,” Daryl said in a hushed voice as soon as he thought Clayton was out of earshot.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll do him some good to talk about it,” George replied.

“I really hate to ask, but he didn’t exactly finish telling the story. So I’m a bit confused about what he meant by it being time for Jules’s dinner?”

“Well, there ain’t much more to the story, but I’ll tell you what I can before he gets back,” George started. “I was able to keep Clayton from falling over the edge, but just barely. Jules and Jake weren’t so lucky. They went right over the edge. Now, we jumped off those cliffs more than a hundred times, but there was a trick to it. You had to really launch yourself away from the cliff to miss a couple of rocks that jutted out of the water near the side of the cliff,” he continued.

“They didn’t…” Daryl said trailing off. 

“Yep. Jake landed on one of them rocks, splitting his head like an overripe watermelon. Jules landed on another and broke her spine. As soon as Clayton could get to his feet, he threw himself over the side of the cliff the right way, and swam back to her. If he hadn’t done that and held her face above water, she might have drowned,” George continued.

“So, he saved her?”

“He’s still saving her to this day. Hell, he married her right out of highschool. She hasn’t been able to move a muscle below her chin since that day, and he’s taken care of her ever since. One minor mistake as kids, and they’re both still paying for it, each one of them in their own way,” George said, staring at a spot between his boots.

“Damn, I don’t even know what to say to that,” Daryl said, because he didn’t know what else there was to say.

“It is what it is, my friend. Now, hush up. Here he comes,” George said, flicking his eyes toward Clayton stepping out of the bathroom.

“You ready, bud?” Clayton asked.

“Ready when you are,” Daryl said, hopping up from his stool.

“Night, George,” Clayton called out over his shoulder.

“Night, buddy. Send my love to Jules,” George called back as he gathered neglected glasses from atop the bar and wiped a tear from his bushy beard with the back of his other hand.