Trying the Knot (27 page)

Read Trying the Knot Online

Authors: Todd Erickson

Tags: #women, #smalltown life, #humorous fiction, #generation y, #generation x, #1990s, #michigan author, #twentysomethings, #lgbt characters, #1990s nostalgia, #twenty something years ago, #dysfunctional realtionships, #detroit michigan, #wedding fiction

BOOK: Trying the Knot
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Jack crouched lower until he was practically
lying across the floor. He begged Tristana to drive away, but she
ignored his pleas.

“This place is still hell on earth.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jack said. “At least we
know our neighbors.”

“And their family histories for the past
three generations,” Alexa added.

“It’s because you’re all cousins,” Tristana
said bemused, and she added, “Anyway, is it really such a
comfort?”

Rocky’s unlaced high-top sneakers carried him
toward the curious other worldly looking car, but he halted
abruptly when he noticed the driver wore a nose ring, had blood red
lips, dark eyeliner, and long curly, dyed hair. It was as if he
stumbled across a demon incarnate in the night.

“Friggin’ vampire,” he called out and spat on
the car hood. He turned to his identical buddies and said, “Get a
load of the lezzies in the Jap car.”

The Czerwinski twins jumped up and down,
gleefully chanting, “Dykes! Dykes! We like to fight dykes.”

“Wait-a-sec, that’s Jack Hesse in there!”
yelled their fearless leader.

The twins scrambled closer and screamed
crazily, “We’re gonna pulverize you, Jackass!”

Alexa quickly lowered her window, propped
herself out of the car and forcefully stuck out her middle finger.
Her wild eyes glimmered as she screamed, “Fuck you, Mother
Fuckers!” Tristana tore off and squealed the tires as they fled the
human explosives, on which Alexa had just tossed a match. The back
end of the Saab narrowly escaped a soaring 40-ounce beer bottle,
and shards of brown glass shattered against the deserted
pavement.

“You gangsta bitches going to get us killed,”
Jack said as he rolled around in the backseat.

“Only if you’re lucky,” Alexa said.

“I’d call 9-1-1,” Tristana said, holding up
her brick sized DynaTAC cell phone. “But I can’t imagine there’s
any reception up here.” Jack stabilized himself in the cramped
quarters, and he sighed with relief upon realizing there was no
monster truck in pursuit.

“Christ on a stick, this place makes me
sick,” Alexa yelled out the open window. She longed to do something
more interesting than ride up and down the same tired old streets.
In the rearview window, she caught a glimpse of Jack swiping his
strategically dripped hair off his forehead. She insisted, “You’re
preening again.”

He ignored her and suggested, “Hey, let’s do
something wild and crazy.”

“Let’s get into a skirmish with the law,”
Tristana agreed, “like the Dukes of Hazard County, where crazy
high-jinx ensue with each twist and turn of the dirt road.”

Tristana opened the console between them and
she pulled out a one hitter and a lighter. Tristana put the pipe to
her lips and took a deep drag after raising the windows and
shutting the sunroof. Heady plumes of smoke filled the car. She
passed the pipe back to Jack after Alexa shook her head in
disbelief, and muttered, “My God, I’m hanging out with Bonnie and
Clyde.”

“Then suggest a fun and legal alternative,”
Tristana said, taking the pipe while losing her patience.

“We could go swimming.”

“Isn’t it rather cold?”

“Um, yeah,” Jack concurred, but Alexa decided
the chilly air would make the water feel warmer. A consensus of one
was all she needed to get her way.

“Too bad it’s not winter, we’d take you ice
fishing,” Jack said, leaning between the front seats in order to
get a closer look at to the intriguing Goth chick.

“Who’re you kidding, Jackal?” Alexa asked as
she elbowed him to get in the backseat. “Every time we do any
serious ice fishing, moron here brings his skis and slides like a
madman all over the frozen lake.”

“Well, fishing is boring.”

Alexa explained, “It requires a Zen-like
patience for maximum enjoyment.”

“Yet one more fun-filled Northern Michigan
out-of-door experience I’ve missed out on,” Tristana lamented. She
took the pipe from Jack, and double-checked to make sure it was
cashed. “I bet you guys still kill whatever you eat, like deer and
rabbit and stuff.”

After a brief silence, Alexa mumbled
directions to the beach of her choice, and Tristana parked the Saab
next to a wooded area.

“Do we really have to trek through this
forest to get to the lake?” Tristana asked, fearing for the well
being of whatever wildlife they should encounter.

“It’s just pine trees,” Alexa said, and she
jumped from the passenger seat.

At the risk of looking paranoid, the driver
rolled up the windows and locked the door. She found herself
falling in line behind the two teenagers who led the way along the
path through the woods. The evening sky was sporadically overcast,
and the tree-lined trail was eerily dark. Tristana made sure Jack
remained close beside her by leading him by the hand. He grumbled
about the unqualified lunacy of swimming in the cold pouring rain,
but it was neither cold nor pouring as the lukewarm air pelted them
with occasional raindrops.

“Awe, are you taking the long way on
purpose?” Jack whined.

“Why do you always insist on being a
monumental pain in my ass?” Alexa asked. Tristana burst out
laughing, and Alexa let a tree branch snap back at them. “Quit your
bitching.”

They continued marching along the black, pine
needle strewn path while Jack complained about the frigid cold and
the painful lacerations on his bare feet. With her shoes flung over
her shoulder, Alexa hummed unaffectedly and paid no attention to
her annoying cousin.

“This place smells like raw sewage or
something equally disgusting,” Tristana said as she held both her
and Jack’s hand over her nose. The fishy stench of the lake
overpowered the pine-fresh scent emanating from the conifers, and
wet sandy earthiness permeated the air. The aromas intermingled,
and Alexa scarfed them up like a drug.

Spotting sand ahead, Alexa bolted from the
near darkness and ran toward the sparkling lake. With typical
abandon, she yanked off her T-shirt and kicked away her cutoff
shorts. Stunned by the sheer force of Alexa’s physicality, Tristana
abruptly stopped to admire the younger girl’s equine beauty.

Alexa was the perfect combination of strength
and attractiveness. Standing in only a bra and underwear, the
moonlight illuminated her glorious spinning body. The bluish haze
of dusk accentuated each muscle, tendon and curve. Her dark hair
hung half out of a barrette and spilled wildly onto her broad
shoulders. Alexa looked so deceptively androgynous it was easy to
overlook her perfect breasts, which spilled from her bra.

“Christ, they’re only a couple of tits,” she
said disgusted when she caught Jack ogling her. He and Tristana
were shocked from their trance-like fixation on her heaving chest.
Her full breasts were bound too tightly in a bra she had worn a
year too many. They were suddenly reminded she could bind and gag
both of them in seconds.

“This is the closest he’s come to seeing
anyone naked,” Alexa pointed out.

“Shut up,” Jack hissed.

“That would be incest, you perverted virgin,”
Alexa taunted. She knew exactly how far he had experimented
sexually because they had tried it out together, and she knew he
was a virgin for he drew the line at penetration.

“Go to hell.”

“Such hostility—

“All right, enough already out of both of
you,” Tristana shouted over the increasing volume of their petty
attacks. “We’re not here to fight, we’re here to swim,
remember?”

Without a second thought, Alexa tossed her
bra at them and dived into the lake. Admiringly, Tristana watched
Alexa deftly swim away from shore, and then she gazed up at the
endless sky. She studied the heavenly clouds, awestruck beyond
words. As she caught an occasional raindrop in her mouth, she said,
“I haven’t breathed this amount of fresh air in such a long time, I
can’t even remember how long it’s been.”

“Not much longer. See those storm clouds?”
asked Jack, pointing over the lake. “It’s going to downpour.”

Searching the pink and purple heavens,
Tristana said with wonderment, “I hope we get to see those flashes
of light in the night sky that look as if they’re coming from God’s
own lighthouse.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “The Northern
Lights?”

Having grown tired of his constant negativity
and sullen disposition, Tristana asked, “Yes, the Aurora Borealis?
Don’t you think I know what they’re called? Your soul lacks poetry,
Jack.”

“Maybe.”

“I wish we had a few doses.”

“Doses of what?”

Alexa called out from sandbar, “Acid, dork.
You know, LSD.”

Jack hurled a stone into motionless Lake
Huron, and then he started to undress. Unnoticed by Tristana, he
stood in tattered flannel boxer shorts and a T-shirt, which exposed
his pallid legs and knobby knees. He tiptoed ankle deep into the
water and shivered as the wind tugged at his greasy hair. As he
gracefully skipped rocks over the invitingly still surface, shadows
from the setting sun bounced off the dark, velvety water. As it
became dark, the lake looked as if it were covered with a million
carelessly strewn diamonds.

“Hey, wuss,” Alexa called to Jack from the
sandbar. “Take off your shirt and flash us that concave chest you
like to carve on.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t start,” Tristana warned. Sitting in
the sand, she removed her black fishnet pantyhose.

“Come in, it’s wonderful!”

“It’s kinda like cold,” Jack said. He watched
Tristana sit on the shore and light a clove cigarette, and he
whispered, “It’s going to start pouring any second.”

“What a baby!” Alexa shouted, floating on her
back. To her rapt audience, she hollered, “We should’ve stolen a
bottle of booze from the lounge or from one of my mom’s strategic,
house-cleaning hiding spots.” She laughed struggling to keep from
sinking into the murky stillness.

Still pelting rocks, Jack suggested, “Maybe
Tristana could buy for us.” Hopefully, he looked over his shoulder
to the older girl and, he did not see his last skipping rock peg
Alexa square in the head. The lone swimmer quickly disappeared into
the dark expanse of the endless lake.

“I think you hit her,” Tristana said
concerned.

Jack’s wide eyes studied the spot where Alexa
sunk beneath the deceptively calm surface. An annoying chirping
echoed from every direction, and it drove him crazy with fear, as
did a clatter that only stopped when he bit down on his tongue. The
shock of pain following the bite reverberated throughout his
body.

Tristana rose slowly to her feet and joined
him at the water’s edge. Her cigarette slipped from her fingers,
and she said, “There’s no sign of her anywhere.”

“We’ve got to save her,” Jack said,
shaking.

Tristana gave him an encouraging shove. “Go
get her.”

“I— I can’t swim.”

“It’s not so deep.”

“I’ll drown.”

“Hardly.”

“I flunked swimming lessons cause I couldn’t
swim past sandbar to the second raft,” Jack said. He was unable to
step deeper into the lake that lolled goading around his
ankles.

“Go get her. It’s not even deep.”

“You go! Can’t you swim?”

“Listen, you threw the rock. She’s your
girlfriend.”

“She’s only my cousin—

“Yeah, yeah, save it for your shrink,”
Tristana flared. “Rescue her, or she’ll drown.”

“You save her, you stupid rich bitch!” he
screamed near hysterics. Having panicked, Jack failed to move ever
since the rock struck Alexa’s head. The rain droplets began to fall
more frequently in rapid succession and with greater force. They
were showered with a sense of urgency.

Now knee deep in the water, Tristana
helplessly backed away from him toward the shoreline. If she knew
how to swim, then she would certainly rescue the perfect drowning
specimen. Suddenly, she shoved Jack forcefully away from the shore
deeper into the lake. Taken aback, she gaped openly at the
lacerations on his chest and arms. With so many sporadically placed
cuttings, it looked as if he’d mistaken himself for a Voodoo doll,
pincushion, and the Thanksgiving turkey.

Breathing as if he’d just completed a
triathlon, Jack lunged and knocked Tristana backwards. Half in the
water, she scurried away from him with her blood red mouth agape.
Her hostile coal eyes glared at him hatefully, yet she was fearful
of what violence he was capable of. She half expected him to start
kicking her. Trembling, Jack was unsure what he was more afraid of
– Alexa’s body washing up on shore or what Tristana would do if she
ever rose out of the lake. He cringed, half expecting her to lunge
for his throat and gouge out his eyes.

But instead, Jack felt a hand wallop the back
of his head, just like his mother used to surprise him whenever she
caught him misbehaving.

“I can’t believe it, you let me die!” Alexa
screamed. Collecting her clothes, she turned away from Jack and
said bitterly, “I hate you!”

“What—

“You just let me slide off the coast of
nowhere and drown!” she yelled. Then she sprinted down the path
leading through the shady woods, and Jack ran after her. His feet
barely registered the pine needles stabbing into the bottom of his
feet

“You don’t understand,” he called after
her.

Furious, Alexa quickly froze and spun around.
She clenched her jaw and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Seething,
her breasts heaved with anger. Sopping wet, Tristana joined his
side, and together they stood mute before Alexa. Feeling guilty,
neither could look at her. Jack focused on the birch tree leaves
overhead, and Tristana fiddled with the clothes she had
absentmindedly plucked from the shore.

“No, you don’t understand!” Alexa
screamed.

“What?!”

“You let me die.”

“Oh, put down the crack pipe,” Jack said.
“You’re alive, in case you haven’t noticed.”

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