A Hot Summer in 1982

This is a short story I wrote for a college class telling of a day in my teenage youth that will live with me for the rest of my life.

It was a very hot summer in 1982, five friends on summer break, hot, sweaty and ready for some action. The question at hand was “Just what kind of trouble five sophomore high school boys could possibly get into?” The five of them crammed into the little Toyota Celica and headed off to the river to find out. Let me set the scene; Troutdale, Oregon. Lewis and Clark State Park, Sandy River, 1000 people, 1000 observers, 1000 audience members, and us, 5 oblivious, soon to be entertainers, about to give them all a show to never forget. A show that would change lives forever.

Gorgeous teenage girls covering the hot sandy beaches as far as we could see. It was gonna be a great day! The sun beating down upon all the bare, exposed skin of those beautiful teenage girls causing sweat to pour down their smooth, sensuous skin from head to toe, creating an amazing smell that drifted along the shorelines as a result of the perfume blending so perfectly with the sweat that poured from their overheated bodies. This was the point where I realized I was being a little more observant of all of these beautiful creatures than I probably should be this soon upon arrival. I came here to get crazy with the guys, the chasing down the girls can come later.

So we all sat down upon the hot blistering sand and for the next 30 minutes put our every breath into blowing up our air mattresses that would soon bring us complete and total relaxation for hours to come but only 10 minutes into blowing these things up and we felt far from relaxation, though we did find ourselves close to unconsciousness from lack of breath as we desperately put all we had into blowing these godforsaken air mattresses up. Finally getting them blown up just enough that they will support us as we float around the river for all the young women to see. It was time for my four buddies and me to get the attention of this paradise of women around us. That’s just what we did, unfortunately, It was far from the way we intended to do it.

I lay there still trying to catch my breath, my head pounding from a lack of oxygen. With every deep breath feeling hot granules of sand making its way up my nasal passages just to add a little more misery to the misery I was already dealing with. I then found myself fighting off laughter as I watched as two of my friends dove into the water and came up deeply gasping for air as a result of going into shock from their sweltering hot bodies suddenly finding itself engulfed in ice cold water.

They both swam to the other side of the river as they had a hundred times before on our frequent visits to that very spot on the river. I watched as they both began to make their way back to the side I was on. It was exactly in the middle from one side to the other where things went wrong. At first, I thought my buddy was just joking around as he started waving his arms in a mad, desperate panic, slapping the surface with his hands so hard that I swear I could feel the vibration from the concussion of the slap of his hand against the water.

My friend was some little ways ahead of him but turned around and went back in an effort to help him just in case it wasn’t a joke After all. Trying desperately to get ahold of my panicking friend who was fighting to keep his head above water. In his attempt to pull my friend up to safety he was being taken down and had no choice but to let go. I stood there amazed watching this take place and seeing a multitude of people between them and I, just standing there in the water motionless as if on this hot summer day in 1982, they were being entertained by a free show taking place at their favorite swimming hole. Not one person took a step forward in an effort to reach my friend, now going down for about the fourth time, and the very last time.

Making my way out into the water and screaming at the top of my lungs for the observers to help my drowning friend but with no results. I got no more than two were three strokes in before I realized, this time, he’s not coming back up. That was the last I ever saw of my friend, on that day that five of us left home to go swimming and take the attention of as many teenage women as we could, and we did but on that day, only four of us came home.

It was a very hot summer day in 1982, five friends on summer break, hot, sweaty and ready for some action. Troutdale, Oregon. Lewis and Clark State Park, the Sandy River, 1000 people, 1000 observers, 1000 audience members, and us, 5 oblivious soon to be entertainers about to give them all a show to never forget. A show that would change our lives forever.

Five of us left home that day but only four of us came home.