Lakeside and Old Songs Part 1

The air was warm, even coming off the water of the lake. The moon was bright and full, settling for the time being right smack dab over top the liquid pool of blackness. Gentle waves lapped at the bank, there was nothing on the water this late, the ducks and geese had nestled in for the night and save but for the occasional frog jumping in, all was calm and quiet.

There was no one around tonight, it being this warm, no one wanted to fish for the catfish, and for the crappie and bass everybody filled the small lake during the day. It was too warm out they said for catfish, even this late in the night. All the old timers who came up here were just making excuses to go home early and be in bed by the time night fell. I didn’t mind. The lake was all mine this night. There were no campers on this side, all of them migrating toward the other side where there was the big place to put their RV’s and tents.

The place I came to was small, unobtrusive and no one wanted to camp here because you could only get one truck down here. This made the perfect spot just to come and sit during the night. During the day, yes, someone was here fishing. Tonight, this was my spot, my place to be.

I loved coming up here. Just to get away for a while. It was formed in 1961 when they dammed up an old mining camp. When the water was clear, you could still see some of the buildings that were covered in the middle of the 45 acre lake. When I was little, and my gran would bring me up here, I would imagine that the buildings down there were really parts of Atlantis, just below the surface and that the Pillars of Hercules was the two big oak tree’s that were situated on the other side. Yes, even at six years old, I read anything I could come across on subjects like that. Fishpond wasn’t the biggest, but it wasn’t the smallest by far. Jenkins Lake was, but it was just used for the reservoir for the city, and there was no just sitting there in the middle of the night without Todd (the police chief that I had grown up with in Rocky Hollow), or someone coming out to see what was going on. Here, you could stay all night and not worry.

It used to be a big party place in the past, all the teens from Neon and Jenkins would gather up here and stay for the week end. If my gran needed to find Freda or Tronda, she knew to have someone drive her up here and she’d just start yelling for her. Eventually someone would know to go drag Freda out of some car, truck, or from behind some tree with who ever and bring her to my gran. No embarrassment there, every one knew my gran in ten counties and three states. And they knew that if they didn’t find Freda quick, gran would just scream her name louder, and threaten to call the cops if she didn’t get over to the car in less than five minutes. And, no one wanted the cops called. Freda was always handed over without a fuss to come home for what ever reason gran needed her at that time. That was years ago. The county finally took it over, and with that came a better place just to hang out without the problems of a whole lot of drunks.

Peace. That was what I felt here. It seemed like I could find myself when I was so lost at times. I could come up here and just soak in all that Mother Nature had blessed me with. I loved being up here during the day, but it was just more special in the middle of the night with the moon full and the quietness of the world enfolding me like a favorite worn blanket. I heard another frog jump in, and smiled. At least I hoped it was a frog.   I took another drink out of the cooler I had brought. Can’t go to the lake without one.

I twisted the top off and threw it in the bed of the truck.  Old times, old memories, old places seemed to want to flood back.

But those times and memories were long gone. This was the start of something different. Or, at least I could wish that it was. I wasn’t one much for hoping for anything good to come my way. No disappointments if it never manifested. Too much of a realist? Too much of a negative person? I didn’t think so. If you’ve never been to Disney World, how will you ever miss not going back? If you never felt the kid leather and the wooden dash board of a 1932 Deisenberg, how would you ever miss it? If you never heard the waves crash against the shoreline, or saw a thunderstorm come across the ocean, how could you ever possibly describe its’ beauty truthfully and accurately?

You couldn’t. You could never know the excitement of what people talked about when they rode Space Mountain. You could never know the softness of those seats’ or the gleam of that varnished wood if you never sat in a Deisenberg. You could never fully comprehend the peace when you closed your eyes and just listened to the sound the rushing waters made as they ebbed and flowed from one side of the earth to the other, or see the majesty in the power of the streaks of lightening as it zig zagged through the open sky over the white capped ocean. There was no way to describe any of that unless you experienced it fully. Me? Wasn’t one for getting disappointed anymore I guess.

Cautious was the word that came to mind with me. I stayed to myself, not getting out unless it was just me. Didn’t need company, and although at one point it was every week end that I had it in one form or another, didn’t relish the thoughts of it anymore.

I kept my circle tight. Lhiannan came over which was great. She I missed and talked to at least ninety times a day. She was my sister. My other half of the non existent heart that I had. We were at times in our lives inseparable. She always knew when things were going on with me, and I with her. Granted, our lives took us in different directions for weeks at a time, but we always found each other again along the way.

She knew my secrets, my fears, my wants and my desires. She was for all purposes and fate, my sister, although her parents weren’t mine, nor mine hers. It seemed that the Gods tended to show mercy sometimes, and they knew when we needed someone like that in our lives.

She should have been blood, but my gran always said “that blood shit thicker than water thang don’t hoe the corn around this place. It’s who loves you period, and your family will tend to do you dirtier than a rank stranger. And a rank stranger will end up being better to you and more like family than your own.”

Gran, for all her fluency on words, was never wrong.

I heard him crack a branch, just coming out of the bushes from using the bath room. It was just a piss, and I could hear him zip up his hiker shorts and walk toward the truck.

“Feel better?” I asked him as I reached in the cooler for him a beer.

“Slightly better than before. And why don’t you ever use the bushes? Why do you always have to make the trek over and up and around to get to the public bathrooms’? Thought you were terrified of those things?” he said, sitting down on the tail gate where I was.

I took a drink, feeling the foam drain down my neck and into the pit of my stomach. How I loved that feeling. The last little drink in the bottle seemed like it was always the tastiest. I stifled a good long burp, more over, I probably would have scared the sleeping ducks had I turned it loose, and woke up a few sleeping campers, thinking that big foot had made his way here instead of living in Oregon all this time.

“Well, I used the bushes once.” I got out.

“And?”

“I ended up getting poison ivy on my ass.” I said matter of factly. I looked over to where he’d just come from.

“You know that spot right there? Where you just peed?”

I saw him nod questionably, slightly cocking his head at my question. “Yeah, what about it?”

I went for another beer. “Well now just let me tell you. There’s a big assed patch of ivy..ohhh right where you aimed. And I don’t doubt that it’s grown more since then.”

He almost spit his beer out. “Well thanks for the little piece of info now.” He said, starting to scratch at his legs. I giggled. There wasn’t any poison ivy over there, just honey suckle vines. He looked at me intently with that long gaze of his and punched me on my arm.

He laughed, still scratching at his leg. “Skeeter bite.” He said.

“Yeah, that’s what I’d blame it on.” I giggled again.

 

He pulled me over next to him, and I rested my head on his chest as he leaned back a little. His arm came around me as the breeze flitted by slightly tickling my nose. It wasn’t a hard breeze, but it sent ripples on the water which made the moonlight dance on the surface of the black pool.

Skynyrd had just finished playing, and I hadn’t realized the next song was the one song I really couldn’t handle.

Songs. They tended to have that effect on me that wasn’t good. I automatically placed trinkets with them, like putting them away with an old nancy drew book in a shoe box and putting it underneath my bed. It was something that I had always done.

The day that Kelly was killed, I kept hearing ‘last kiss’ in my head. That was the song that he loved, and used to sing to me when I was little. I hated that song, but he would sing it and I would bawl, because the girl ends up dying. Kelly was the one who ended up dying that day and I woke up hearing it in my head. I knew something was wrong and when the State Police officer came to our door that night to tell us what had happened he just confirmed what I was trying to tell mom all that day.

When I ended up in a fist fight, it was always ‘another one bites the dust’, because, usually they did.

Different songs for different reasons. My first kiss, a song, my first heartbreak, a song.

Good times, always a song, and even the bad and worse times, songs I couldn’t handle.

(I’ve been sitting here, tryin to find myself, I get behind myself, I need to rewind myself, looking for the payback, listening for the playback, they say that every man bleeds just like me…)

I hadn’t even realized that I had done it till I heard his voice. “Got something against Kid?” he asked walking over to where I had pitched the c.d. into the lake.

“Nope.”I said and walked toward the truck to put another one in, making sure this time that it didn’t have that one on it.

“Sure?” he said, tossing the empty bottle in the back of the truck with the rest of them.

“Yep.” I said, finding one with some Aerosmith and Janis Joplin. Can’t never go wrong with Aero. Regardless of what has happened, I never put Aero in danger of being tossed into the abyss of any lake, and or potentially over any mountainside going sixty miles an hour.

He was leaned up against the truck with his arms folded in front of him when I scooted out of the truck. He had that look, the one that he got when he just didn’t know what to make of me or my moods.

“So, don’t buy you any tickets to see Kid huh?”

“Nope.”

I walked on down past him, and I felt his hand reach out to grab my arm and turn me around to look at him.

“It was his song wasn’t it?.” He asked.

“Don’t know that he ever had one. Just don’t like that particular one.” I said to him, and looked down. It wasn’t his song, not really. The first time I had ever heard it play, he played it for me.

He had called with a bad headache. He just wanted me to come up and lay with him he said. I got there, and Johnathon was taking Cory over to Stevens for the night. Where was the bitch from hell? “Working” he said. “All nighter again and can’t get hold of her”. “Well”, I said. As I crawled over the other side and into bed with him. The lights were out, and he turned the music on low. “Listen to this song, Darl just made me the tape and brought it up the other day.” So I laid and listened to it, and rubbed his temples to ease the pain. I heard him sigh. “doesn’t that sound just like me?” (I watch my youngest son it helps to pass the time, I take too many pills it helps to ease the pain, I made a couple dollar bills but still I feel the same….). I thought for a moment. “Yeah, it does..”

(…outstretched hands and one night stands and still I can’t find love…)

“You know that you are the only love I ever found right?” he said rolling over to face me in the darkness.

“You sure about that?” (people don’t know bout the things I say or do, they don’t understand bout the shit that I’ve been through, It’s been so long since I’ve been home, I’ve been gone , I’ve been gone for way too long..)

He kissed me. “Sure.” And we made love. And after that night I hated that song, because I knew that every time I heard it afterward, he would be there. He would be holding me, kissing me. And I hated it.

I looked up to see him smiling. “what?”

“what?” he said.

“I said it first, what?” I said.

He grinned. “So?”

“So what?” I started to crack. I knew where this was going.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” And his arms came around me and held me. Fly Away From Here started to play, and he began to sway me back and forth to the music. (…we all make mistakes…but it’s never too late to start again, take another breath and say another prayer and Fly Away from Here…my hopes and dreams are out there somewhere, won’t let time pass you by…)

And this time, there was something new. I let an Aero song be attached to someone new. Someone so different that anything Kid could’ve done was blown out of the universe.

“So, when we break up, you gonna pitch that one in the lake too?” he whispered in my ear as he leaned to kiss my neck.

I caught my breath at the touch of his hot lips on me, his hands made their way into the back of my jeans and cupped my bottom. I moaned a little.

“Yep.” I said.

“Nope.” He said.

I bent my head back so he could continue his kisses on around to my throat and to my lips. He kissed me, the song long since died out and a new one had started. Must have been a mix, because that one wasn’t Aero or Janis. I couldn’t fathom the words, but it didn’t matter. It was the feelings that were coursing through me that I was concentrating on more. I kissed him back, my body pushing his against the truck. I could feel him getting harder and it so turned me on.

I broke the kiss, long enough to look at him with mischief in my eyes. “Think so.”

I said, as my hand undone the button on his short and unzipping them, pulled them down around his ankles. My hand came up to caress his hardness. No under shorts, all commando. I smiled at the thought.

“Nope.” He said again as I bent down in front of him, his cock right at eye level. I got down on my knees’ and raised up just a bit. I put my mouth around his shaft, closed my eyes and went down with my wet mouth.  I heard a sharp intake of breath on his part, as his hand came up to run through my hair.

“Yes, yes yes yessss.” I heard him moan. Thought so. I knew I could get a yes out of him, one way or the other. And I would. Aero or not…no. I wouldn’t. I could never do that to the band. Kid yes, Aero, no. Sugar Ray yes. He whined..a lot..to the point of me convulsing every time I heard ‘I just wanna fly’…

His hands began to tangle in my hair as he took control and moved my head the speed that he wanted. I didn’t mind, he loved control, and this was a speed that he could enjoy. I took my hand and massaged his balls for a while, and then would run them up and down his thighs. He slid down some on the side of the truck and bent his knees. I could feel him start to raise his buttocks up a little from the truck and I began to take my tongue and run it up and down as the strokes got longer. His hands came out of my hair as I grabbed his cock with my hands and played with the tip of it with my tongue. I teased him with my teeth, and looked up to see his head back, his body starting to drip sweat in the hot night air. I quit, just for a bit, in order to make this last.

I saw him look down, and in the moonlight he reminded me of Adonis, the greek god of the sun. His body was slim, and his hair was a little long, blond and slightly wavy at the ends. Even gods had their weaknesses’ I thought to myself. Even mortals had their needs.

His hand came down and his finger trailed my cheek. “Come up here for a minute.” He said.

“Don’t you like what I’m doing here?” I asked.

“Sure do. But just come up here for a minute.” He nudged.

He took my hand and helped me up, and stepped out of his shorts. He kicked off his shoes and smiled broadly at me. “Your turn.”

I thought for a moment. “What do you mean my turn?”

He grinned big, still with the hard on jutting out, calling me. “Just what I said, your turn. Get nakey or do I do it for you?” Oh, he did it for me all right, my panties were already wet with desire for him.

“But…” I started to stutter. “I don’t get nakey..” I went to bend back down and he took me in his arms once again. His kisses were soft on my lips, probing, demanding of me, his tongue playing with mine. He would suck my bottom lip and make his way to my neck, sucking and taking long licks with his tongue to the top of my breast.

He stopped, walked over to the door and opened it up. I watched as he brought out a thick sleeping bag, and spreading it out on the wet grass, came back and led me over to it.

“Come on, where’s that crazy girl I know so well?” he laughed, lying down on the sleeping bag. He casually put his arms behind his head and just looked at me with that grin on his face.

I lay down next to him, my blouse already hanging on the side of the truck, in my bra and still in my pants. He rose up with one arm behind his head on his side. “And?”

I blushed, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. His other hand came up to mine, and placed it on his cheek, and I could see in the moonlight, his eyes were closed.

“I love the way you feel.” He said. He took my hand and trailed it down his chest. I moved closer, and licked his chest, biting his nipples, as he lay back on the blanket. He moaned again as my tongue made its’ way down past his belly button, licking it, and thrusting my tongue in and around it. My lips found their way back down to his hard shaft, that surprising hadn’t went down at all. He spread his legs slightly as I worked my way between them and lay down. I grasped his hardness once again and began to pleasure him the way he loved to be done…