After the Rains (8 page)

Sometimes Natalie hated the way Sara Dever always had to bring God into everything. Not that she didn’t believe in God herself. She did. She’d asked Jesus into her heart when she was a little girl. She still remembered the warm feeling it had given her. But Sara had this just-put-God-first-and-everything-will-be-fine mentality that had no basis in reality.

“I’m not buying that, Sara,” she leveled now. “Look at my dad. My
real
dad. He was a missionary. He devoted his whole life to God, and look where it got him. Permanent exile thousands of miles from his family.”

“I know,” Sara conceded. “I don’t pretend to understand why God allowed that to happen. But still, your father loves you. And he’s managed to be part of your life—as much as he could. I’m sure you’ve given him a lot of joy.”

“Yeah, and if he was the one here, I can guarantee he wouldn’t make all these stupid, strict rules. He would treat me like an intelligent adult. Sometimes I wish I lived with
him
.”

“Natalie! You don’t mean that!”

“Well, it would serve Daddy right.”

“Nattie, your dad just wants what’s best for you,” Sara said gently. “It’s not like he has those rules just to make you miserable.”

Natalie shot her a look that said “Ha!”

“He loves you, Nattie. You know he does.”

“Oh, Sara. I know it’s not right, but sometimes I just want to run away and never come back.”

A slow smile spread across Sara’s face. “You know, if you can just hang in there for a few more months, you
can
‘run away’ from home. College life beckons,” she reminded.

Natalie smiled back, but Sara’s words were drowned out by Daddy’s harsh words echoing in her mind.
You suddenly seem to think you don’t answer to anyone but Natalie Camfield
.

And what was so wrong with that?

Seven

S
o what do you want to do?” Natalie asked Sara as they reached the dead end at Pine Street and made the traditional dragging-Main-U-turn for the fifth time. It had been raining off and on all day. Natalie and Sara were riding around after their supper, looking for something to do, bored out of their minds.

“I don’t care,” Sara shrugged. “Anything but dragging Main, wasting gas.”

“Well, what? Do you have a better idea?”

“We could go back to my house. Mom and Dad won’t be home till late.”

Natalie started down the street again. “Man! Where
is
everybody tonight? This town is so dead.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “It’s Saturday night. Where do you think they are? They’re all out at Hansens’ getting wasted.” She puffed out her cheeks in exasperation. “Now there’s an appropriate word if I ever heard one. Talk about a waste. I’m sorry, but I do
not
see the attraction.”

Natalie ignored her. Sara was beginning to get on her nerves with her constant sermonizing, and after her father’s sermon she was in no mood. Their argument twisted through her head. She wasn’t about to go home. Maybe she should go out to that party. There sure wasn’t anything else to do in this Podunk town. She didn’t necessarily plan to
do
anything out there. She just wanted to see what it was like. Who cared what Daddy thought?

As they came to the dead end, instead of making another U-turn, Natalie headed south on Pine. She turned to Sara, testing the waters. “Hey,” she said, as though the idea had just occurred to her, “Let’s drive out there.” She watched from the corner of her eye to see what her friend’s reaction would be.

Sara looked at her as though she’d suggested they go rob a bank. “To Hansens’? You’re not serious? I know you’re still mad about what happened with your dad, but Nat—”

“Just for a little while. Not to stay or anything. I just want to see who all’s there.”

“Natalie, you know who all’s there—everybody.”

“Which is why we’re bored out of our gourds! Come on.”

“Your dad would kill you. Shoot, what am I talking about?
My
dad would kill us both if he found out we were out there.”

“He won’t find out. Besides it’s not like we’re going to
do
anything. There’s nothing wrong with just driving out there.”

“I don’t know, Nat …”

She kept driving, and Sara was silent in the seat beside her.

Natalie could smell the bonfire before they rounded the curve in the lane and saw the sea of cars parked in the field. Her palms were damp, and butterflies suddenly flitted in her stomach. She drove slowly across the bumpy pasture and pulled up to park beside Brian Wagner’s pickup.

Sara broke her silence, putting a hand on Natalie’s arm. “Let’s leave, Nattie. Please. I don’t feel good about this at all. We are both going to be grounded for the rest of our lives.”

“Nobody will even know we were here.”

“Oh, you’re not planning to get out of the car?” Sara said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

“You know what I mean … nobody that matters.”

“Natalie, you know better than that. It’ll be all over town by the time church starts tomorrow morning.”

Natalie laughed, but she knew Sara wasn’t exaggerating by much. “You can take my car and leave if you want to, Sara. I’ll find a ride home. I don’t care if you go. I won’t be mad, I promise; but I’m staying.”

She held the keys out, testing. Sara ignored them, so Natalie tucked them in her pocket and got out of the car.

“Hang on,” Sara groused. “Let me find my umbrella.”

Natalie turned her back on Sara and started walking, but she heard
the passenger door slam, and she could sense Sara behind her as she picked her way across the field in the dark. The ground was rutted and muddy in spots from the recent rains.

The acreage they were on belonged to Joey Hansen’s dad. Rumor had it that Mac Hansen was of the mind that kids were going to drink anyway, so he might as well provide a safe place for them to do it. Rumor also had it that he didn’t mind supplying the kegs—or showing up now and then to have a drink or two himself. Some of the kids thought he was pretty cool, but most of them were glad he was Joey Hansen’s dad and not theirs.

Behind her Sara whispered and scolded under her breath while they trudged toward the bonfire near the riverbank. As they got closer, Natalie started to recognize a few faces. She was surprised at how many kids were here. At least half the senior class, and she guessed twenty or thirty underclassmen, including a lot of freshmen. Everybody seemed to have a bottle or can in their hand, though the promised kegs apparently hadn’t arrived yet. The smell of cigarette smoke—and something sweeter—mingled with the pungent scent of woodsmoke in the air.

A couple of kids had pulled their cars close to the party and their sound systems boomed—an odd battle between country and rap music. Between the fire and the river, Mandy Krispin was dancing suggestively at the edge of a loose knot of girls, but apparently Mandy heard a beat in her own head because her gyrations were not in time to any music Natalie could hear.

Natalie saw two figures angling toward them, headed for the makeshift parking lot. As they got closer, she recognized Rick Boxman and Lacey Franks. Lacey was hanging on Rick and having more trouble walking than even the furrowed field warranted.

The girl caught sight of Natalie and Sara, and turned to Rick, laughing. “Well, I’ll be—” She reeled off a string of slurred curse words.

“Shut up, Lacey,” Rick laughed back. He waved at them and winked. “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi,” Natalie mumbled.

She figured they were too far gone to notice her greeting, but Lacey started pulling on Rick’s coat sleeve.

“Come on,” she purred. “Let’s go back. This I gotta see … the saints go marching in …” She threw her head back and laughed until she almost fell over. Rick held her up, but kept dragging her toward the cars.

“Sheesh!” Sara rolled her eyes and tried to sound disgusted, but Natalie could tell she was nervous. Maybe even scared. Natalie was feeling a little nervous herself. Was everybody going to give them such a hard time for being here?

Evan Greenway spotted them and nudged his friends. “Hey! Look who’s here! Come on, Nattie. Hey there, Sara. Here, over here.” He motioned to them. “What brings you two out here?”

Natalie put her hands in her back pockets, hoping she looked relaxed. “There’s not much to do in town with everyone out here.”

Evan smiled. “You ladies need something to drink.” He dug around in the cooler at his feet and came up with two icy bottles of beer. He wiped them off on his shirttail and held out the offering.

Sara declined politely, but Natalie took one. She was thirsty, and she was curious to know what it tasted like. She’d smelled beer before—mostly on people’s breath—but she’d never tasted it. It wouldn’t hurt to have a sip. And if she carried a bottle around with her, then maybe they wouldn’t bug her to drink anything stronger.

Evan reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He flicked his lighter and sheltered the flame from the breeze. He took a drag, then pulled another cigarette from the pack and offered it to Natalie.

Her laugh came out high and squeaky when she told him, “No, thanks. That’s one vice I haven’t taken up yet.”

They all laughed as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world, and Evan moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulder. She shrank away a little bit. She’d had enough trouble getting him off her back after they’d gone to the homecoming dance together last year. She really didn’t want word getting around that she and Evan Greenway had a thing going. She took a sip of her beer. It tasted nasty. But she’d always heard it was an acquired taste, so she took a swig, and then another, while the boys cheered her on.

She felt strangely elated. It was kind of nice to feel so welcome here. She’d almost forgotten about Sara when she felt an elbow in her side.

“Natalie, are you really drinking that?” Sara whispered.

“I just tasted it.”

“It looked like more than a taste to me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Well, let’s go before you do.” There was mild disgust in her friend’s voice.

“Sara, I mean it. If you want to leave I’ll give you my keys. It won’t bother me one bit.” She took another sip of the beer. Already it didn’t taste so bitter. It was like eating a pickle. The first bite made you pucker up, but once your mouth got used to it, it really wasn’t too bad.

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” Sara told her. “Especially not if you’re drinking.”

“I’m not
drinking
,” Natalie defended.

“What do you call that?” Sara pointed at the bottle of beer as though it were a vile insect.

“Well, I’m not getting drunk.”

“Yet.”

“Sara, it takes more than three swallows of beer to get drunk. Sheesh. I might as well have brought my daddy with me! I just want to see what it’s like.”

“Look around.” Sara swung her head toward a group of senior guys gathered around the fire, laughing and teasing each other, a cloud of curse words rising in the air. “You can see what it’s like,” she said wryly.

Natalie wasn’t sure how to answer that argument, so she ignored Sara and turned to Evan and his friends. Immediately Evan offered her another beer.

“I haven’t even finished this one,” she told him. But she put the bottle to her mouth and took several more swallows, as if that would prove her intentions to him.

She purposely closed her eyes and took stock of how she felt. Kids always said that if you weren’t used to it you could get drunk pretty fast. But she felt fine. The smoke from the fire stung her eyes, but she didn’t
feel the least bit dizzy or lightheaded, or whatever it was she was supposed to feel under the influence. She finished off the bottle and took the fresh, cold one Evan supplied.

By now, Sara was antsy and clutching her precious umbrella until her knuckles were white. “Come on, Nattie. Please, let’s go.”

Natalie laughed and reached out to put a hand on her arm. “Sara, quit worrying. I’m fine. It’s really no big deal. I don’t feel one bit different.”

Sara met her gaze, but she said nothing. Natalie could see that there were tears in her eyes. “Hey,” she said, softly. “Come here.” She led Sara to the edge of the copse of trees, out of hearing of the other kids. “Sara, I’m not going to get drunk. I swear, I feel totally fine. I’ll be careful.”

“It’s not that, Nat. It’s just— I don’t like us being here. What about our parents? What about your sisters? It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Why didn’t I just bring my father with me?” She tried to make it a joke, but her words came out sounding more gruff than she intended. Sara started toward the car.

“Oh, good grief, Sara. Come back here.” No response. “Sara!”

Her friend turned to face her. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Nattie. What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just sick and tired of being treated like a baby, and I’m tired of everybody else having all the fun.”

“You call this fun? I’m sorry. I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all.” She wheeled and went on toward the car.

Natalie started to follow after her, but something made her turn back. Sara could sit in the car and mope for a while. If she wanted to leave she could come and get the keys. But Natalie wasn’t going to let Miss Moral Police ruin her night. As she picked her way over the rutted field back toward the river, she took another drink from the bottle. She was suddenly feeling very thirsty. She finished the bottle and—without being quite sure how it got there—took a swallow from the fresh icy cold can of Budweiser that had appeared in her hand.