Mississippi Mud

Lake Mavis, a stone's throw outside of Memphis, was really just a dammed stretched of the Tallahatchie River. Upon first glance, the chocolate milk water, with its faint aroma of pond fish and pine, was at the least unappealing and nothing like the cool gray of the Pacific Lucy was accustomed to. Everyone on the beach seemed to be equally put off, the water deserted, opting instead to lay on beach towels or lounge on short chairs, their toes sinking into the warming sand.

" Welcome to Satan’s mouth," Yoshi smirked, squinting into the already too-hot Sunday sunlight.  It seemed the whole school had the same idea, the lake shore congested with oily bodies in tiny swimsuits, girls in large glasses and floppy hats, and in almost every hand, regardless of age or the fact that is was barely 9:30 AM, a cold alcoholic beverage rested.

Lucy spread her towel on the sand,  her flip flops flinging sand all over its clean surface. Duncan laid his towel beside her. Lucy could not help but notice the way his tanned quad muscles flexed, his shorts riding up his thighs as he bent to pull something from the cooler. Turning, he handed a drink to Lucy. Pilsner. Luckily the disgust and horror Lucy felt was hidden behind her aviator shades. Without saying a word, she handed the sweating can back to Duncan.

"No? Suit yourself."

It wasn’t that Lucy never drank. She had - twice. Both times ended with vomit and a collection of blackmail photos. Besides, she had standards. Her mother's voice echoed in her head. "Trashy people drink before 11 A.M. - not Heim's." She smiled at that memory.

"What are you smirking at?" Duncan was watching her, the beer resting between his legs.

"Nothing. Just a funny memory from my mom."

"You've never told me about your mom."

Lucy shrugged and adjusted the edges of her towel. "Not much to tell."

"Not very close, huh?"

When Lucy didn't say anything, Duncan backtracked, his discomfort palpable.

"Sorry, you aren't obligated to tell me anything. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, "  before she could register, Lucy's hand was on Duncan's thigh, "things are just a little weird since my parents split up."

"Shit, Lucy, I didn't know, I'm…"

"Let me finish.." she removed her hand from his leg. "My mom took a job in LA. She's a doctor. But she didn't want us to come with her. It's like she woke up one day and just wanted a new life, a do-over."

"And your dad?"

"He just let her."

"I doubt it's that simple."

The boat Lucy had been watching suddenly became blurry, the heat of unshed tears pulsing behind her shades.

" I don't know. But now I'm here. In the middle of freaking no where drinking cheap beer at 9 AM." Her tone hit Duncan like a slap and he turned his head, hurt.

"That must really suck." He clutched his sweating drink. After 5 huge gulps the can was empty and lay crushed between them, sand clinging to the surface like skin.

"Yosh, want to play catch?" Yoshi jumped up excitedly and followed his friend down the beach, a football gliding effortlessly between them.

She knew her reaction had been childish. She knew her words would hurt Duncan, so why had she said them? She was too hurt to dwell on him for too long. Her life was hard. She deserved be a little pissed at the cards life had dealt her. How could small town Duncan Jones even know what it was like to be her?

By 11, the beach, buzzed like a hive. The once revolting water suddenly called to them, inviting them to escape the ceaseless attack of the sun on bare skin. Eager to make her way slowly into the water, Lucy dipped one foot, then the other. The cool water lapped at her ankles, two more steps found Lucy knee- deep in the thickest mud she had ever felt. Quicksand. She knew the thought was insane, but she could not convince her heart of the irrationality of the thought.  Violet beckoned to Lucy from the tubes she and Yoshi were floating in some 20 feet out.

"Get your butt out here you wuss!"

"I would but I think I'm stuck!"

"Mississippi mud aint no joke!" Yoshi hollered, a fake thick southern accent dripping with twang.  A few kids hollered and whooped in response. With a final pull and a less than graceful belly flop, Lucy was free, face down in the water, but free. Before she would even stand up, someone was lifting her by the arm.

Sputtering water from her face, Lucy eyes went from red shorts, to the soft fuzz of a happy trail, up tanned torso, where a whistle hung, gleaming silver. Her own reflection stared back her from the panes of nearly-identical aviator glasses.

"Woah there! How we doing, Lucy?" the figure asked, pulling Lucy to her feet.

"The mud is a real pain, then drops about 10 feet right here."

"I noticed."

" Can you swim?"

"Yes." Even with sunglasses on she could feel his skepticism.

"it's more of a float, but it works out."

"Right…"

"I was just startled by the mud. Given a few more seconds I'd have been fine."

"Of course you would have. But I had to check."

"I appreciate it."

"No problem. Maybe you should take a floatation device with you."

Lucy glanced toward Yoshi and Violet, both now laughing so hard their tubes teetered and tossed, almost flipping with each guffaw.

"My friends have me covered." He followed her gaze.

" Yoshi sucks at swimming, but Violet isn't bad." he commented.

"I'll be sure to tell them."

"No need.” His grasp of sarcasm far worse than his grip on her arm.

"Can I go now?"

"Oh," he dropped her arm, apparently unaware that they were still intertwined.

"Sorry about that."

Embarrassed but unscathed, Lucy swam the remaining distance to her friends.

"Saved by Mr. Baywatch himself." Yoshi nearly sang as she pulled herself onto the tube.

"He knew my name."

"Of course he did…does. You only have so many next-door neighbors."

Her gaze roamed the beach until it found its target. "Clayton?"

"Bingo."

"He's a lifeguard? And a store clerk?"

"Don't forget arch nemesis to Duncan." Violet added. All of them swiveled to see where Duncan was. He was nowhere to be seen, but multiple crushed cans glistened in the sunlight near his vacant towel.

" About that…"

"NOPE. My lips are sealed." Yoshi blurted immediately.

Violet trailed her fingers through the water. "I promised I wouldn't either. You'll have to ask Duncan."

"I will tell you this though, I think Duncan is just jealous of the kids abs. Incredible." He admired. Though Lucy did not admit it, she had to agree. She's never seen such a fine specimen in her entire life. As mysterious as her new neighbor was, one thing was not a mystery- he was fine.

The orange ball of Mississippi sun still peeking over the now navy water, left a few final warm kisses across sunburned shoulders, freckled noses and chapped lips. Yoshi lay sprawled out on his back, Violet's head resting on his stomach, rising and falling like a pillow of waves. The once-lively beach now lay nearly deserted, a smattering of people here and there. Hours had passed and still no sign of Duncan. His trail of crushed cans and his towel were the only signs that he had been there.

A dozing Lucy was jolted awake by a trickle of something on her face.

"Wakey, wakey sleepy head." Duncan knelt above her head, sand pouring from his hands straight onto her forehead. Sputtering, she shot up, swiping at the sand before it could fall into her eyes, spitting the dirt from her mouth.  

"What do you think you are doing?!" she yelled, now on her feet. Duncan stood, teetering toward her. His hair was disheveled, his eyes wide.

"Sand confetti!" he threw another handful of sand into the air and actually giggled as it rained down upon them both.

"Are you insane?!" Lucy sputtered. "What adult throws sand?"

Duncan looked around, checking behind him as if he were unsure she was talking to him.

"Yes, you, Duncan. And where have you been all day?"

Stepping closer toward him, the stench of alcohol hit her, and this was more than the cheap beer they'd brought in the cooler. She recognized the vodka, and the sweet hint of rum, similar to the kind her father served other doctors and hospital administrators when they visited.

By then, the noise roused Yoshi who stood, with Violet shielded protectively behind him.

"Dude, you look like crap." Yoshi laughed.

"At least I don't look stupid." Duncan responded, the light-heartedness absent.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yoshi stepped forward, ignoring the tug on his arm from Violet.

"Exactly what you think it means. Stupid. Asian. Eyes." Then he made a gesture, pulling his eyes taught.

Without hesitation, Yoshi was on him, knocking the already unstable Duncan to his back. Duncan had 60 pounds on Yoshi, but his movements were slow and uncoordinated. A fistful of sand met Yoshi's open mouth, forcing him to fall back, spitting. Duncan rose to his knees and lunged for Yoshi, who rolled just out of his grasp and to his feet.

"Stop!" Violet's squealed.

"Guys, seriously!"

The boys ignored the audience, Duncan's skull making contact with Yoshi's stomach. Yoshi, still upright, hugged Duncan's head, twisting as if trying to decapitate him. Duncan struggled for breath, his hands reaching blindly, making contact with Yoshi's swim trunks, which he fisted and tugged until the shorts fell past his knees.

Violet screamed, and Yoshi dropped his hold, to cover his suddenly nude body.

Duncan took one more swing at his preoccupied friend, missing his cheek and making contact with just his nose, the momentum from the punch spinning him, and carry Duncan to the ground with a thud.

A fountain of blood erupted from Yoshi's nose. His hands' instinctually attempted to stem the flow but his bare hands were quickly stained red. His tanned face turned white as blood pooled into the sand between his feet.

Above Violet's shrill screams, the unmistakable cry of a whistle could be heard.

Clayton came running, sand flying behind him with each step. His silver whistle pressed between his lips.

Before he could make sense of the ridiculous scene before him, Clayton examined Yoshi.

"Definitely broken, man. You should have that set."

"No shit!" Yoshi yelled, holding his bloody hands out as evidence.

He handed yoshi a towel, which he pressed to his face, allowing himself to be led up the beach to his towel.

"Sit. I'll get you some ice."

Clayton turned next to Duncan, who's burnt back revealed an irresponsible lack of sunscreen. Squatting next to Duncan, he asked "So Yoshi knocked ya out huh? I always knew he was tougher than he looked."

Duncan groaned and tried to push himself up, but collapsed under his own weight.

Clayton let out a low whistle. "Harsh man."

Just then he noticed Lucy. Her arms crossed, an anger so palpable he was tempted to step back.

"So what happened here?"

"Male ego."

"Seems like it."

"Why are y'all such idiots?"

Clayton grinned. "Did you just use your first 'yall'?

"Shut up. This is serious."

"I agree. The yall is the first sign that one is acclimating to the southern ways."

Lucy scowled, suddenly fascinated by the sand at her feet.

"Hey." Clayton rested a warm hand on her shoulder. "I'm teasing." He dropped his arm and squatted to assess the kid on the ground.

She rubbed her shoulder where his hand had just been.

"Someone's had a little too much to drink."

"Seriously."

"Help me will you?" Together they lifted and carried/dragged, the teetering but still conscious Duncan to his car.

"It’s best if one of you drives. Yoshi has a face so swollen he probably can't see into tomorrow. You drive manual?" She shook her head, remembering all the times her dad warned her about the zombie apocalypse scenario where the world is ending and the only car is a manual.

"No problem. I'll just clock out."

"You don't have to…." but he he'd already jogged off back to the lifeguard station.

Yoshi and Violet ambled up the beach, the ever-pale Yoshi still holding a white-turned-crimson towel to his nose. Alice, carried the empty cooler in her arms.

"Well, that was….something." She smiled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, it was…"

"Boys…"

"See you Monday?"

"If I survive"  was Yoshi's muffled response.

"You'll survive. Drive safe."

Clayton returned fully clothed, Lucy noted, with disappointment.

The strange trio drove in silence,the wind through the open windows the only movement. When they pulled into his driveway, Lucy realized he'd driven all the way to their destination without any directions. He knew where Duncan lived. Lucy was hit with the sense that these two knew each other far better than they let on. Her suspicions were confirmed when the front door opened and Mrs. Mathers  answered with a familiarity reserved for close friends.

"Clayton! It has been too, long. My you are tall these day! " Mrs Mathers boomed embracing Clayton in a motherly hug.

"Clayton?" a short broad man with thinning brown hair and a low voice stepped onto the porch.

"Yes, Phil, isn't it nice, Clayton came by?"

"Well what brings you here," Phil asked, shaking Clayton's hand.

Silently Clayton and Lucy pointed toward the car in the driveway, Duncan's legs hanging out of the passenger door, his head slumped back, snoring.

"Oh goodness." Mrs Mathers cooed.

"I see." Mr Mathers dropped his voice an octave. "Thanks for uh…. Bringing him home."

"Of course."

"You're a good boy, Clayton. Sure wish you weren't so busy so you two could get back to your old shenanigans."

"Right." Clayton mumbled. Stepping from the porch. "I'll just go help get him inside."

Lucy stood awkwardly on the porch, not sure whether she should help or introduce herself, opting instead for an exchange of uncomfortable smiles followed by silence.

"yall want a ride home?" Mr Mathers offered, once his son rested on the living room couch.

"No, sir. It isn't far."

"Well thanks again." He clapped Clayton on the back, the click of the front door marking his exit.

Distance between Duncan's house and Elm street (or whatever their street is named) was approximately 4 stop signs, one fence hop and a creek apart.  They'd met and parted ways with 2 stops signs before either of them spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

That was not what she had expected him to say. "Excuse me?"

"Back there. Duncan."

"You think I haven't seen a wasted teenager before?"

Clayton rubbed at his eyes, as if to force the embarrassment from them like tears.

"That's not what I mean. I know you have. But that still doesn’t make it right. No lady should be asked to drag her date's inebriated body from a car."

She smiled, heat creeping up her neck. That was cute.

"You thought I was on a date?"

"Am I wrong?" He'd stopped walking at this point and was watching her. Why did she get the feeling that she was an adult about to reveal the identity of Santa to a child?

"Does it matter?" A question in response to a question seemed safe.

"It might."

The weight of Clayton's gaze made Lucy feel unsteady, popping her weight from leg to leg, eventually opting to start walking again to cut the electricity in the air.

Before Lucy could answer, he continued. "I know Duncan. I've known him since we were in diapers, and

he isn't your type."

They'd rounded the corner, their houses within view. The purple of dusk was creeping slowly up the skyline, making Lucy itch to go grab her paints, but she resisted the urge. "I'm not sure i have a type."

"You do. Any maybe you don't know it yet, but it sure ain't Duncan."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because Duncan didn't walk you home."

Without realizing it, she found herself on her porch, the swing creaking in the cradle of a gentle breeze. Without another word, Clayton ran up his own porch steps, leaving Lucy in a stormy sea of thoughts and evening cicadas.