10

Ladies and gentlemen we are all angels here. You passed alongside the dilapidated neon letter billboard half sunken into the earth, a new addition. You hadn’t been here since you were a kid. An important part of the socialization of any child in Bernal Flats demanded a visit to the hot springs; you’d sink or swim soon as you got the lead out of your system. Dive or be thrown and dashed to pieces on the rocks jetting over the Green Lagoon. You remember paddling from the Purple Pool to the Aqua Lounge where all the older kids would wallow. The names were the first thing that put you off, zero creativity, then the people. Everybody loves the sunshine of course. Their hides were leathered into a fine shade of butterscotch that was indicative of the fiends. The shades of earth varied with the chemical makeup of the rocks. This place could not be altered by Blue Lite according to the experts and so far it served as a proper prediction of the state of things. It was stratified and strictly regimented, guards had been employed to keep the layers in order at all hours around the deserts only watering hole. Under starlight the earth glowed selling out the true nature of these pits, the bottomless black of a flooded volcano, its red arteries showed the seeping magma at the heart of the system. The sulfur rocks dug out around the scars making green grass trails and trees grow where chemical burned earth reigned. The community shelled out dollars for the villas adjacent, bottle service was byob.

“So the curtains do match the drapes, that’s all I’m saying.” Boo piddled around answering the full question of how she learned that the Fry's were the ones that tried to deep six you in Black Pools. Your party, the girls plus blood hound. “They really do love each other.” She laughed, “I admit Maggie is a bit more selfish though.” She lifted the blonde loops of hair on draped over her back to reveal a black and blue section of skin, “I gave her something worse.”

“That’s wild, what did you give her? AIDS?” Kaite high fiving Jane. “Har har, you know no one gets AIDS anymore Kit Kat” Ren, “Plus Boo Berry has never been penetrated by the baser sex. I’m pretty sure that plays into the equation somewhere.”

“It’s not for lack of trying, little sister just has an extremely high output.”

“You’re so mean Barty, don’t talk about that.” Embarrassed Boo turning red faced.

“I didn’t mean that, you perv.”

“Anyway, how was your girlfriend experience?” Kaite

“I give it a 7.7. You know it left some things to be desired. I dominate for all my bubble, and they’re pretty much down for whatever. There was a bit too much push and pull at first. It was kind of fun actually, that’s how I got this little guy. I think they would have liked me more if I were black.”

“With bigger tits.” Kaite

“And candy kiss n*****s.” Jane

“You mean if you were Dixie Lox?” Ren “She’s not black, she just has a fat a*s.” Jane

“Whatever, you’re f*****g gorgeous.” You’re group positioned along the central axis of earth circling the Aqua Lounge, the water vapors rising from the shallow end into the cave face of the overarching cliffs. The droning murmur of sunning bodies growing louder around you, no soft‐spoken chatter over speculation as to what happened to the missing Ashby girl now returned. KKZP sold several stories over your lost time, Ren’s arrest and the pairing of her and Dorece Mc in camp Orial brought headlines. You were abducted by the Outland Rebels, filleted and devoured as part of a sacrifice by the church, ransomed off, suicide, your family issued a statement. Richard and Jenny Kriss gave a plug for Zero Ridge, “I only wish there could have been something said for the location of our dear sister, Bartiland.” Jenny sobbing, Richard’s arm around her shoulder in dark glasses. “This loss has shaken our family immensely, I feel for the Hunters’ and the Cliffsons’.” He buried his face in the top of Jenny Kriss’ head, preformed excellently, behind the scenes they smoked, complimenting each other on keeping a straight face, “You know, I really feel for, oh bother, what were their names, oh yes, Donny and Meyer’s losses.”

“Bubbie!” the united voices of Margret and Maddy. The freckled bodies sat up on elbows under a giant umbrella, forest green blankets stretched out beneath them. They were hippier than you would have thought and definitely a little more top heavy, still their arms were spindles propping up crimson heads and bouncing breasts. “Barty! You brought friends. Hi friends.” Maddy or Maggie making the first move toward you. Maggie took off her sunglasses revealing a blackened raccoon eye. Boo took her in her arms and planted a closed mouth kiss on her lips. “I’m Margie, I don’t think I’ve met you two before. Hi Ren.” She hung two arms off of Boo’s neck, Boo’s arm around her waist.

“That’s Jane and that’s Kaite.” Boo introduced your friends.

“How,” Kaite in full face paint, snow white with black eye sockets, her lips painted black in the center of a toothy white grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Well you girls have fun, Boo call if you need me. We’ll see ya’ll later.”

Boo paraded off with her harem, the group of them into the water, waving red hair spreading out over the surface in the one of the purple pools, the peppermint twins, white bikini with red tassel bits hanging down from the bra tops, Boo’s monochrome grey one piece connected by center piece stretching over her abdomen. The three sets of eyes trained on you, Margret blew you a kiss, Boo splashed her in the face. The triad paddled off teasing at one another.

“They’re so cute together.” Ren squeed, “Your sister is a lion tamer, she’s got those p*****s in check.”

“Please, Ren,” Your white tee coming up over your head, black bikini top tiger stripped black inlay over your chest with boy short bottoms bleached rabbit vertebrae belt around your waist, rabbit feet hanging from your earlobes, bronzed. Bangs hung down over your forehead, black bar of war paint set your eyes in deep shadows. You kept it moving through the crowd looking for a place to parlay around your goods. There were plenty of people out today, your target wasn’t apparent just yet but it was only a matter of time. You spotted an open area on a knoll overlooking the watery pits, the mob scene mostly consisted of the bronzed and the busty, lots of plastic, the disparity in the age gap invisible now that everyone was so tanned and toned. Everywhere on the wind music pumped from personal stereos, you settled into a green patch. You laid out your towel around the pile of bags and sat looking over the crowd trying to cherry pick a needle in a haystack. You hadn’t seen the Frys in person; you caught the occasional picture online from a party last night or some other spin off. Each one of the brothers kept a spot on the net charting their journeys through the day to day. Spencer, age seventeen, reportedly involved with several young starlets, with the pictures to prove it, after nude photos came across the news feed featuring best new artists the leaked letters of apology felt a little insincere. Sean, age nineteen, he took a year off before his freshman year in high school to gain girth for prime spot on the Los Mastiffs’ football team, he had the same pharmacist as you but his prescriptions were hand delivered. Stewart was twenty three, directed his first movie at twenty and hit box office magic, before that he was your average art school jerk off, it was a remake of a made for TV film but the twist in vision gave it mass appeal, though your taste for s****y movies got the better of you this ejaculation was one that actually made you stop mid stream. You flipped over onto your back staring at the sun.

“How do these things work in water?” Jane coming up with a set of stamps laced with sedative. She dropped them next to your head then took to applying sunscreen to her legs.

“We’re not poisoning the watering hole.” You shaded your eyes and pet her on the back. She leaned back shading you facing outward. She sneered over her shoulder at you, whipping your face with her hair. “ What?”

“Of course we’re not poisoning the watering hole, but I’m antsy.” Jane

“You don’t want one of those as a downer.” Kaite

“I’m gonna work on my tan.” Jane

“Go ahead, Gang Bang.”

“Where are the binoculars?” Ren. You dug through the your pack, fingers flicking over loose bullets and revolver barrels.

“F**k!” You pricked your finger on something sharp. You sat up, dumped the sack onto your towel so you could rifle through in daylight. “Here.” You handed over the binoculars. “I’m gonna walk around.” You stood up, Jane, unzipping the front of her suit and sliding it down over her shoulders, Kaite looking up at you, she picked up her shoulder sling and joined you.

“I’m gonna go play Indian.” Kaite

“Don’t get lost,” Ren looking at you through the binocular lenses then peered out over the scene. You and Kaite started off in the opposite directions. You went down towards the water. In your ears the sound of screams and splashes, the distant music of play feeding the breeze lapping at the water. Bare feet tread over the warm earth. Off of the grass the land was slick with wear, the moist feet passing over the ground packed it to brick hardness, stones embedded into the clay smoothed over in erosion. You skirted around the edge of a pool letting your feet occasionally slip into the water. It was remarkably clear given the number of people treading back and forth, over and under its surface. The water was warm and slick, almost oily but not to the point of being unpleasant, the minerals clung to your skin when you came out leaving you shiny
in the daylight. All the while you had yet to spot a section of your quarry. You made it to the edge of deeper water, the bottom of the well endless as far as you could tell. You climbed a stony lithe and sat over the water. Your feet dangling high over the ripples, you stood and dove in with small splash. The breath easy in your lungs you dove down, eyes closed deeper and deeper into the abyss. You let your body relax falling headlong down, you could feel the pressure constricting around you, thirty seconds on your internal clock, your stomach flattening out and ribs spreading as the water took you. The pressure in your ears building to crushing, you could feel the earths heat increasing all around you, one minute. You righted yourself, kicking in long strokes powering yourself back to fresh air. Your head broke the surface, a hard exhale, inhale, you bobbed on top of the water letting your body swirl with the current of swimmers. Articles of clothing drifted in the wash, goggles, trunks, and disposable cameras. You swam around breaching heads, dove down and popped up again in a new territory. Boys and girls flipping over themselves splashed water over your face, your bangs hanging right above eye level as you parried jets spewing from the mouths of play fighters. You spotted Sean Fry; brown hair tussled and wet sparking around his head. He was holding a cased video camera, the viewfinder pressed to his eye as he ran his hand along the jaw line of some fair‐haired brown skin girl grinning up at him. You made your way over, the slope of the bottom made it shallow enough for you to walk.

“”How old are you Tamarind?”

“I’m 19. I love your site, you’re so funny. I’ve done a few interviews on BeeBlips and Off the Cuff.”

“I don’t even write most of that s**t anymore, it’s all ghosted out for the most part. Stamp of approval is where it’s at. I like yo stamp. How do you like my camera?”

“It looks very expensive,” you took the words out of her mouth.

“We got a player two, and what’s yo name?” He smiled, a mouth full of silver teeth glinting at you underneath the camera. You parted your hair; he kept the camera trained on your chest.

“Eye’s up Sean,” you crossed your arms in front of you, the words coming out breathy and impatient. Sean stopped recording.

“What’s up girl?” He put on his sunglasses eyeing you, he sucked his teeth, “What’s ya name again? You know ya’ll all start to look alike right about now.” He grilled you with his smile, all his teeth coated in shining metal. The girl, Tamarind disappeared.

“Come out here, I’ll make you say it,” you spit into his face hitting him square in the teeth. He swallowed and stood at your toes. He flexed hard, shirtless muscles popping with tension. Your eyes drilled though his glasses, he stood a little above eye level with you.

“Bartiland, get the f**k out of here, there’s already enough sand, no need for another c**t in the mix.” He stepped around you, shoulder rocking toward you trying to throw you off balance; you missed the brunt of it, tripping him in the process. He turned, glasses sinking into the water; he splashed you in the face and paddled out towards the center of the pool. For such a massive girth he floated over the water like leviathan moving the smaller bodies out of his way. You swam belly up tracking him into the deep end. You maneuvered yourself under him avoiding the kicking legs. You swam ahead a bit catching your breath in the path of the monster. In an inhale you breached the water and slammed your elbows into the back of Sean’s head. The initial shock was plenty to put you on top of his struggling body. You locked your arms around his kicking legs freezing them in place, your legs pinning his arms to his sides. It took all your strength to secure his upper body. You had him inverted falling downward toward the bottom of the pool. You absorbed the thrashing until it slowed to twitches. You released and kicked yourself to the surface listening for movement coming after you, nothing, two minutes is a long time to stay underwater. You swam to the edge and climbed out of the pool. Your legs burned, lactic acid built up under the stress of restraining such a big fish. You stepped gingerly across the ground back to where you left your friends. You spotted Kaite’s bobbing headdress moving along a ridge of sunbathers. Your things were unguarded when you returned to the towels, no note leftover from their departure. Sausage fingers left their indentions around your ankle. Sean’s death grip bruised you deep, it hurt to touch, you massaged the blood out of the marks. You were sure he was drowned. If he floated it wouldn’t be for a while before swimmers noticed he wasn’t kicking and screaming like the rest of them, all that muscle made him stone heavy anyway, he’d be one of the few to see what the bottom of the springs looked like. There wasn’t anything to drink in any of the bags. You took a smoke from Ren’s pack and laid out. You tussled your hair to keep the sun off of your face. You were waiting, your mass still tangled in the fight, you coughed up a bit of yourself on an exhale of cigarette. Wherever the next fight would come you would have to make it quicker. The days heat was at its highest, the crackle of stretching bones like sizzling on a frying pan.

After a fifteen‐minute catnap you felt much better. The people around you changing places and positions. Your cigarette out in the grass, you relit and finished it down to the butt. You stood and resumed your search for the lost boys taking to the hillside to mix it up, maybe you would run into Kaite, you had lost track of the plume bouncing along like where is waldo. More of the same, the occasional drum circle complete with dancing youths throwing their arms from side to side, small clouds of smoke hovering at waist height, your trail snaked through the fog. You tuned in on the track of a conversation nosing into mixing and minglings to nose out where Spencer or Stewart were haunting. You caught wind of a spot a little further down where the Fry had set up camp, with one down if it came to flat out fighting it wouldn’t be as difficult, maybe they had already been swept up by one of the others by now. You spied black feathers paused across the watery chasms. You arrived at a wall of people. They had a bar set up, music beating out of boom boxes, everyone in sunglasses, cups in hands. They were huddled in threes and fours, people standing, sprawled across the ground, the ambient sound of slapping skin on skin contact, you couldn’t tell if it was the music or something in the air.

“I’ve never seen any of his movies, I swear against it actually, dudes a f*****g hack anyway. Emmy, why did you even bring that c**t’s name to the table? I swear it’s like being back in Kansas, I mean what the f**k am I doing here? Stewie is okay, but the range is well.” A round‐bodied squat man with thinning blond hair and beard squatted at the feet of a small group, his dimply arms around knees, he rocked back and forth. Thin sunglasses covered his eyes; he kept his monkey face pointed upwards at the audience.

“Anthony, just relax, you’re scaring the natives,” A blonde dreadlocked boy to his right sat legs folded into a pretzel. He was shirtless and lanky; a tuft of hair in the center of his chest looked to be freshly budding or implanted, patches of irritation at the root on his skin. “Just enjoy yourself man, its not like you’ve got to work on the movie. There are really some primo chikitas dans our midst. Present company excluded of course.”

“You know if I would spread for you, you’d take me, let’s just not flat line again Oscar.”

“They brought him back from that, ahaha” his belly jiggled, “and reporting out here is bumble fucked anyway. Mutants or some s**t would be rounded up for the forced overdose of Oscar Johnson. They’d have f****n retards and s**t in a dragnet.”

“Then I’d just do the Barty Ashby thing and rise from the dead.” The dread head burnout took the hand of a brown girl passing by and offered a seat on his lap.

“And then what Oscar, then you’d have to come spring them all from jail.” Emmy

“Hey Emmy, don’t get me wrong, I’m not Christ, I’m just Christ like, I’m not saving any handisnacks from the fire. Jesus.” Oscar

“God, where is Stewart, I’m really in no mood to baby sit you two mongoloids, I’m gonna go find a stiff dick and a cocktail.” Emmy

“We’ve got cocktails, but I guess having a c**t that dissolves limestone makes your choices of c**k a little difficult.” Tony. The only woman in the conversation, Emmy, dusted off her bottom and proceeded to walk out of the enclave, a snail trail of travelers followed behind at a distance. The procession passed you, She was at least a head taller than you, long hair, not quite as dark as yours, flowing in a swoop across her forehead and down her back curling in accordance with her will. She caught eyes with you for a second, a passing blue eye stared into yours before she flipped a lock with her hand looking you off with an upward nod of, “if you dare,” with pursing lips. You stepped in tow with the beast, it was awful keeping line, her strides were long. You came alongside her left, heavy tattoos spread down from her bikini line and up her side. She wore an billowing one piece, the sides slit up to the armpit where in a breeze would open up a view of handfuls of breasts sitting pert and perfect on her tanned skin.

“Does it give you pleasure?” She spoke to you in an overt accent; you took off your sunglasses as reaction, her stare flashed too quickly to tell if she had actually been looking at you.

“You give me the creeps, Emmy,” You holstered yours along your belt, a quick smile aimed to disarm.

“It’s Emmy Lee, we don’t know each other,” her tone dropped back down to conversation casual. There was an air of prairie in her voice, like a speck of fluff the syllables pushed into every word without hurting it. “Do you want to f**k?”

“Barty Ashby,” you smiled wide, your genetic perfection, the better to eat you with my dear. She stopped, stood still as concrete, a thin arm held out spindly fingers on a hand that extended through the air and brushed your bangs from your eyes, the smell of alcohol mixed with kiwi fruit trailing after the floating digits.

“Are you kidding me?” She paused, there was a look in her eye, almost tears, she blinked a few times and regained the wistful, “Why? Who would ever want to kill you?” She started back up again; through the crowd she snatched a bottle from the pouring hand of a faceless bather. She poured some of the liquid down her throat; you were on the verge of missing a step when she stopped again. “I’m sorry about rushing so fast, but I’m really excited. You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to meet you.” She faced you head on, and shoved the clear bottle into your chest. She looked stupid to you, but keeping up a front like this took something that would show. She wasn’t trapping you, her face sank some when you didn’t drink immediately, she turned to keep walking. You chugged, fire burning in your mouth, you were salivating, your tongue numb from the proof, you spit at her feet keeping her still. She eyed you wearily and took the bottle from your hand. “Are you really Barty Ashby? You know I can tell if someone is lying to me,“ she was close, whispering sheepishly at you.

“Would you want to f**k me if I wasn’t?”

“Well played BA. Well played.” You watched as she swilled down more of the alcohol, her lips wrapped around the end of the bottle suckling at the liquid, she emptied the glass and smashed it on the ground, shards ricocheted off of the concrete, everything missing your legs, the shrapnel bouncing off of those unfortunate enough to be closer to you.

“Yeah, so let’s get out of here Emmy Lee, we’ve got time to kill.”

“Gah you’re telling me, I’ve been out here for the past week and it’s just like being in a fog, pardon my metaphysical angst or whatever. F*****g Stewart Fry was not all he is cracked up to be.” The two of you strutted out of the camp. “Whatever you do Barty, if a guy agrees to f**k you with a strap on, make sure he doesn’t start to prefer it to the actual thing. I know, I said I wanted 10 inches and I wanted it to hurt when he was casting me in this but damn it’s not even your 10 inches, I mean come on. Last time I throw out a pity f**k.” You passed through a line of cars, she was starting to swerve a bit, whatever she was drinking was starting to fit, her tongue lax in her mouth made her words mushy, “Do you have a cigarette? I don’t want to throw up.” You chuckled.

“That’s great, you know he likes the boys right?”

“I had my suspicions. He made me where a bald cap when I was going down on him, he liked me putting things in his butt, like, all the time, for real it was like a magic show. Young Hollywood right, everyone is into the kink, and he was the stink kink king. Was that a pun?” Emmy

“I think so, and here I was thinking you were a slow scooter.”

“Haha I’m f*****g retarded for reals. You know when you’re making toast and you cant get the toast out and you have to stick a knife in the toaster and its really dangerous because you can get electrocuted by those oh so pretty red lines in the inside that warm up your bread and make it toasty brown and delicious, o‐m‐g, I want toast now, so, I stick the knife in and just grab onto the faucet sometimes you know just to speed up the process. More conductive material for toast toastation.” You burst out in laughter, bumping into the tailgate of a parked car.

“F**k!” You kept laughing, rubbing your hip to bump out the little bit of sting. The alcohol had numbed to down to where the bruise would be tomorrow, Emmy was giddy kicking the mirrors off of cars she walked past.

“I took seventeen years of taekwondo,” she let out a hiya jump kicking through the air and smashing off a mirror then drunkenly facing you up. “That’s why I’m Emmy Lee, you know like Bruce Lee. So where’s your car? I’ve got to pee and I don’t want any of these creepers out here to see my sissy.”

“I know right that little cooze Spencer has his camera everywhere.”

“F**k that little brat, I want to stab him in the throat with my heel,” she hiccupped stumbling and falling face first to the ground. She rolled over onto her back laughing hysterically covering her face. “I missed that one, bawhahaha,” her hand extended towards you, you yanked her up to her feet. “Damn, you is strong like ox, but can you defeat my tiger crane style.” She clawed the air before somersaulting onto the roof of a car. “F**k that whole family really,” she resumed her strut over the roofs and hoods of parked cars.

“You are quite the specimen Emmy,” you paused and surveyed the lot. “Um, I can’t remember where I parked, motherfuck.”

“Arg, well just come up to the crows nest, matey.” You climbed onto the hood and up to the roof of the truck Emmy stood on. “Here,” she stooped down, your legs straddling her head she stood up holding your hands.

“Okay,” you made a visor with your hands while Emmy balanced arms out, “Left, a little more left, slower, slower, wait, back to the right some, disco. I can’t believe I missed that, okay, six columns left and five cars down.” You both hopped down and made your way to the SUV.

“Pain killers and alcohol make the best medicine don’t you agree Barty?” She was slumping on your shoulder the closer you made it to the sixth car. “I’ve had my stomach pumped so many times its just like second nature for me to pop up after these things,” hiccup. “Oh do you have any cola? That’ll bring me right around.”

“No, no sniff, sorry,” you slowed passing the second row of cars, Emmy Lee had slipped from your shoulder and disappeared behind a silver convertible.

“I was going to wet myself, sorry.” She was skipping to catch up with you, her arms swaying back and forth, she caught your hand in stride and you both skipped along to your car. “I love your car, it’s so sporty, and I didn’t even know Audi made this model.”

“We got it as a family gift. This is the only one surviving,” you popped the trunk and sat down on the edge of the tailgate, Emmy sat down on your lap. “Is Stew still out here, I’ve got a bone to pick.”

“Ugh I know, all he’s been trying to do is cut the film from you and that other girl into something for Spencer’s website, You know those house fires, so apparently there was a cash of films that him and, I don’t know whatever that jack a*s kid that got his head cut off, yeah, him and that guy were working on. His dad burned it down, something about, I don’t know, talking heads.” Her body was sagging onto you, the blackout triggered dead weight, she was there one minute and then gone. You propped her against the inside of the trunk space and let down the back seat for her to at best sleep off the alcohol poisoning. You laid her down and tucked her legs into a fetal ball in the back of the car before shutting her in. You thought about the video, presumably you shaking in a pool of water, what could be worse really, Ren displayed on locker room floor, you listened for the honking horn of your doors locking while you snaked your way through the car sea. You passed through the gates again, Spencer Fry piddled around a group of young girls, they fawned on the small framed gangly body, his blond hair long like most of theirs wet with water and sweat. He held a small microphone on the collar of a worn shirt, glasses with antenna attached, he couldn’t weight more than eighty pounds soaking wet, you watched him climb to the top of a diving cliff, his back to the deep water, you watched him survey the sea of high school demographics. You followed, he was preoccupied, you stood glancing into the clear blue then turned look on the bright red shorts and tattered shirt hanging off of Spencer’s slender shoulders. Your thighs tightened, your calves tense in crouch, you rolled up to the balls of your toes and sprung, your mass nearly slipping through the paper boy, the only noise you heard was the poof of escaping air before the two of you slammed into what couldn’t have been more than three feet of water. Your face passed through air, torso and head split through the water before you, you held tight around the waist of your diving bell. A cloud spread out from the spot where he hit the bottom of the pool, the audible crunch of skull on solid rock spelled a certain end to Spencer Fry. You were fairly unscathed, a few scratches on your arms from the impact, the girls kept partying around you, Spencer’s body floating on the top of the water. The earth rumbled, you didn’t hit your head, you tried to stand still, there was an audible growl growing louder. Heads bobbed up and down and back and forth like clothes in a washing machine, the screams of joy rushing up, it was getting hotter, steam rising from the water, you weaved through the mob to you bags. There was a change in the noise, pain arching high over the ecstasy of the sloshing bodies, there was a rush of red skinned women, children, and men staggering out of the now boiling soup. You grabbed your bag the rest of the groups’ things already gone; you scrambled to the top of the hill. The purple pool was rolling when you looked down on it, agony on the faces blistered and peeling crawling out of the stew, potato people swelling unfortunate enough to be slow wading out.

“W‐T‐F mate?” Ren’s voice over your shoulder with her eyes glued to binoculars getting the close ups, Boo’s headdress on top of her head. You snatched the lenses from her. “They’re still on my neck, calm down.” You scanned the surface for Boo or Jane or Kaite.

“People should really listen to the weather report.” The voice was little and squeaky, you lowered and passed the binoculars back to Ren. It was a boy, maybe six years old, cropped hair and sportily dressed for a fun day in the water. He rubbed the sleep from his big black eyes, his lids were heavy, his black skin dry from the sun. He looked up at you. “I mean, there are earthquakes all the time out here, I wonder if they knew a big one was today.”

“Yeah,” You couldn’t look away from this little boy, tiny teeth filled his mouth without a gap, “You wanna see?”

“Is it bad?”

“Yeah.” Ren

“Yes.” You lifted the little monster onto your shoulders, He was a lot heavier than you expected, you struggled a bit getting him up, Ren moved under his side splitting him between you. He took the binoculars from Ren. Silence, the three of you watched the vacation.

“Whose this little baby?” Kaite broke your focus appearing in front of you before you could realize, she shook hands with your tiny king, sweat dripping from her forehead, her skin was shining golden with perspiration.

“Where have you been?” Ren

“Scouting, like a good little Indian.” Kaite

“We found him.” You. Kaite hoisted your liege from between the two of you then the headdress from Ren’s head. She fastened the feathery extension to his head.

“Now you’re a little Indian.” She smiled on him, tickling at his belly trying to tease out a laugh to success. She held him by the hands spinning in circles, his legs lifting off the ground, pearly white teeth gleaming in laughter. “This is pretty crazy, no?” She collapsed to the ground dizzy and breathless.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about Sean or Spencer unless they come back from the dead as jumbo f*****g angry cocktail shrimp.” You

“Would they have cocktail sauce?” Jane’s voce came from your right side, her body suite unzipped down to right below her panty line. “Or we would just dip them in cocktail sauce, or whatever.” She laid down on the knoll and tumbled with Kaite and the ward.

“What happened?” Kaite panted out between breaths; they had him sandwiched between them.

“Steroids may make you big as a house but without the lung capacity to back it up, you end up sinking like a stone. I really bet I could hold my breath underwater for five minutes if it came to it.”

“D by D?” Ren

“Indeed, I think I pulled a muscle in the process, check it,” the bruises on your ankles purple now.

“And then there were none?” Jane

“No, I’ve got an actress in my trunk that told me a story about a video of me and Ren. Stewart is running around with it somewhere.”

“An actress you say?” Ren

“I know right, but I got good feelings about this,” you crossed your arms.

“And Spencer?” Kaite. “Swan dive.”

“Yeah ten points on that one.” Jane. The area was almost empty, stray packs of blotchy skinned people staggered burned out around the waters edge. She stood, the boy sat between Kaite’s legs, her face obscured by the headdress, Jane’s breast exposed, she tucked it back into her suit and zipped it, “Have you seen Boo?”

“No.” Kaite stood, the boy holding her hand; the four of you started walking down towards the water. The smell was boiled pork and the shapes were the same, hot water jets bubbled over the rim onto the path, your bare feet stung walking through the goop, you stepped over flesh that dripped off of a body you didn’t see. Heaps of clothes lay scattered through walkway half dried partially and stained, your friends called Boo, the little boy’s hand gripped yours, you looked down on the sleepy little face, he wiped his eye with his off hand. Her body slammed into you, Boo’s hair was still wet, she was crying, her arms around your neck as she sobbed into you. You hugged her back, leaned away and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Who’s that?” Boo was composed again; she sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I thought you were in the water. Margie and Maddy are in there, god it’s like menudo.”

“That’s the word, menudo.” Ren.

“Can we get out of here? It’s really starting to make me hungry.” Jane

“Do you want us to take you somewhere?” Kaite knelt down face to face with your youth.

“No thank you, I’ve got to get to work.”