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Jennifer Carl

1,668 words

Camelot Park

The black light made the stars on Josh's basement ceiling glow blue. There were dozens of them, stuck up crooked, some peeling at the corners. Blitzy had the window cracked for his cigarette. October air slid into the room, and Josh's stereo played so low I could barely make out the song.

His father was asleep upstairs. Josh had gone up for sodas, which meant the rest of us were supposed to shut up.

Wilson threw a balled-up sock at the door. "Bet he comes back with Coke."

Josh came down carrying five cans of Coke against his chest. At six-two, he could have held a sixth under his chin.

"Hope everybody likes Coke. It's all we had."

"Jesus, Josh. Doesn't your dad hate Coke?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah." Josh set the cans on the bed. "He thinks I like it."

Wilson snorted. "Go shopping with your old man once in a while. Get some decent food in this place."

Josh passed him a can anyway.

"Hey, Donners," Blitzy said around his cigarette. "Margot coming?"

"Off at eleven-thirty." Donners checked his watch. "She's closing at Burger Bonanza."

"She better wash first," Wilson said.

"She will," Donners said. "She hates smelling like grease."

I pulled the navy afghan over my knees. Josh's mom had made it years ago. The yarn had gone fuzzy where everybody sat and picked at it. Josh took the desk chair, leaving his own bed to the rest of us.

I was the only girl there until Margot arrived, and I was tired of hearing about football. Donners was still describing something Coach had said at practice. Blitzy, who'd moved here in ninth grade, kept nodding through a screen of smoke. Wilson listened only long enough to tell Donners what he'd done wrong.

The door swung open.

"Hey, guys! Miss me much?" Margot said in her Drew Barrymore voice.

"Shhh!" We all hissed.

"Shut your jibber-jabber, Lips. Pops is sleeping," Wilson whispered.

Margot opened her eyes wide and mouthed, Oh, okay, moving her lips like a silent-movie actress. Her hair was still damp. She smelled like shampoo instead of french fries.

"What've I missed?" she whispered.

"Nothing," I said, lifting the afghan.

She sat next to me. Donners got up from the floor and wedged himself against her other side. When he put his arm around her, Josh looked down at the Coke in his hands.

"So," Wilson said, "what're we doing?"

Nobody answered.

"I got it. Skinny-dipping at Camelot."

"What's Camelot?" Blitzy asked.

Wilson stared at him. "You've been here, what, two years? The county park. Out by the river. They dug a swimming hole there."

"It's October," Josh said.

"Good. No crowds."

"The park closes at ten," Margot said. "And you're not seeing Jill and me naked, so forget it."

"We could just walk around," Donners said. "Something to do."

Wilson was already pulling on his shoes.

Blitzy drove a mint-green, four-door Oldsmobile with doors that shrieked whenever somebody opened them. Margot and Donners took the front. Josh climbed into the back, I slid in after him, and Wilson squeezed in beside me. Our knees knocked together every time Blitzy took a corner.

Margot searched through radio stations. Wilson caught one of the ties on my pink hooded sweatshirt and wrapped it around his finger. When I looked over, he let go. A minute later he caught it again.

Somewhere past the city limits, somebody said "penis" into the dark.

"Penis," Donners repeated, a little louder.

"PENIS," Wilson said.

"You morons," Margot said.

"Come on, Lips. Your turn."

She waited until the car went quiet.

"PENIS!"

Blitzy swerved onto the shoulder. We screamed, then laughed so hard he had to slow down. Margot looked pleased with herself. Donners told her she was going to get us killed, but he was laughing too.

We left the car on a gravel turnout across from Camelot's entrance. A low barricade blocked the road. Wilson stepped over it without breaking stride, and the rest of us followed. The registration booth was shut for the season. Our sneakers scuffed along the pavement.

Donners gave Margot his letterman's jacket. She tucked herself under his arm. Ahead of us, Wilson shoved Blitzy, who shoved Josh, who nearly lost his footing on the gravel. Josh laughed and caught up.

I kept tugging my sweatshirt down over my baby tee. I'd wanted everybody to see my new belly-button piercing. Now I couldn't feel my stomach. My pixie-cut hair was damp at the ends from the cold.

At the bottom of the hill, a yard light cast a pinkish glow over the swimming hole. The restrooms were locked. Five heavy wooden picnic tables sat on the frozen grass, and old footprints pocked the sand along the water. It looked like summer had left in the middle of a sentence.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Wilson yelled.

He tore off his shirt as he ran. Blitzy was right behind him, dumping clothes beside a table. By the time I reached the beach, both of them were in the water in their boxer shorts, shouting about how warm it was.

"Come on, Joshy," Wilson called. "Don't be such a pussy."

Josh stood at the edge with his hands in his pockets. Then he took off his shoes and jeans, folded them on the grass, and stepped in.

Margot rolled her jeans to her knees and pulled off her socks. "My feet are killing me."

"That's what you get for working," Donners said.

"You should try it."

She waded into the shallows. Her toenails were painted sparkly fuchsia. Josh moved over to her, water rising to his waist where the bottom dropped off. He bent his head to hear what she was saying. She touched his forearm and smiled. He smiled back, longer than the joke could have lasted.

I sat on a picnic table with my sweatshirt sleeves pulled over my hands. In the middle of the swimming hole Blitzy stopped splashing. Wilson had disappeared.

"Josh---"

Something yanked Josh under. Water slapped Margot's jeans. When Josh came up, Wilson was already running for shore, swinging a pair of green-and-blue plaid boxers above his head.

"Wilson! Give 'em back!"

Wilson leaped onto the picnic table beside me. "Come get 'em!"

Josh stayed in the deeper water, both arms pressed against himself. His teeth were chattering. Blitzy stood waist-deep behind him, grinning.

Margot slogged out, leaving wet footprints in the grass. "Wilson, don't be such an ass."

"One kiss," Wilson said, holding the boxers up. "That's my price."

"Not in this lifetime."

She climbed onto the bench and snatched them out of his hand. Before Wilson could grab them back, she tossed them into the water. Josh caught them and turned away to pull them on.

"Christ, it was a joke," Wilson said.

Margot sat down to wipe the sand off her feet. "Hilarious."

A few minutes later Josh came over dressed in his faded jeans, his wet boxers underneath, his dry T-shirt hanging from one hand. Water ran from his hair down his neck. He sat at the far end of the table.

Wilson slid over and bumped him with his shoulder. "You mad, Joshy?"

"No."

"Good."

Josh rubbed at the back of his neck. Wilson bumped him again, gentler this time, and Josh gave him a small smile. Donners was talking football again. Margot and I compared the ridiculous shirts we'd tried on at the mall last weekend. Behind us, Blitzy lit another cigarette.

"I could show you that play Coach was teaching us," Wilson said, "if we had a ball."

"Pigskin," Blitzy said through the cigarette smoke. "That's what we need."

Wilson looked at Josh. Blitzy followed his eyes.

Josh looked up. "Yeah, too bad."

"Wait," Wilson said. "We got Joshy."

They were on him before anybody laughed. Wilson took one leg and Blitzy the other. Josh's shirt dropped into the grass. He grabbed for the bench, missed, and went up between them, his arms swinging.

"Guys. Come on."

"Hut, hut," Blitzy said.

"Put me down."

Margot stopped talking. I turned as Wilson and Blitzy ran with Josh between them, his back bouncing against their shoulders.

"Put me the fuck down!"

They heaved him into the swimming hole. He hit with a splash big enough to wet Wilson's shoes.

Josh came up sputtering and headed for shore. Blitzy and Wilson seized the nearest picnic table and dragged it across the grass.

"Goal line defense!" Wilson yelled.

They planted the table at the lip of the bank. Josh reached for its edge. Wilson shoved. The front legs slipped into the water, the whole thing tipped forward, and the tabletop came down.

There was a sharp, wooden crack.

For a second all I could see was the table, upside down in the swimming hole, its legs sticking out of the water.

Donners ran past me and jumped in, shoes and all. He tried to lift the table, went under, came up for air. Margot waded in after him. I followed. My jeans filled with cold water and pulled at my legs. Between the three of us we got the table off Josh.

Donners dragged him onto the grass. Josh's head tilted sharply to one side, his ear nearly touching his own shoulder. We lowered him down. His hair fell across his face.

"Josh?" Margot said.

She pushed the hair back. Two fingers went to his neck. She bent over his mouth. Nothing. She felt at his neck again, longer this time, then looked at Donners.

"Go get help. Now."

He ran.

Wilson had not moved from the bank. He stared at the picnic table's legs sticking out of the water. Then he dropped beside Josh.

"Joshy?" His voice came out thin. "Josh, come on."

He shook Josh's arm once. Margot caught his wrist.

"Don't."

Wilson pulled away and began shouting his name. Blitzy sank into the grass with both hands over his face. His cigarette lay beside him, still burning.

Above us, the stars were everywhere.