in the minifridge, slipped out of her skirt and climbed into the comfy bed. She closed her eyes, grinned that perfect beer-buzz grin, imagined tomorrow’s beach date and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
The water encompassed him, held him in its midnight depths. Aaron stretched his arms out wide and let the current pull him along. He opened his eyes and saw his friends gathered above the surface. They waved for him, called to him. He couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat thud to some unheard hypnotic tune. They were afraid. He wished they would calm down. The water was perfect. He could stay in here forever.
Suddenly two words broke through his happy swim: Look out!
Aaron looked from side to side. His shaggy hair, which his mother said was too long, waved in slow motion in his vision. His childhood best friend, Bobby, pointed down. Aaron let his blurry gaze drift below. Momentarily forgetting he was submerged, he screamed at the sight under his feet. The head and chest of a man, a flowing mane of black hair, black dots for eyes, a pig snout over a tiny fish mouth that bobbed open and closed like his pet goldfish, Kiki. The bizarre creature had green tentacles for arms. They reached up and wrapped around his ankles. He was jerked violently down. The surface and his friends were gone. Blackness surrounded him. His lungs attacked him from the inside, demanding air. The pig-nosed thing grasping his ankles continued to pull him into the deep, dark waters. Aaron tried to kick his legs free. The creature’s tentacles didn’t budge. Instead, they began to climb up his calves, his knees, his thighs…
The sound of sirens startled him from the horrible dream. He swung his arms and fought his way out of the comforter wrapped around him like a net. He scooted off of the bed in his boxer shorts and hurried to the window that faced the deep-blue monster that swallowed the sand beyond. Two EMTs met the lifeguards who were carrying a man that looked like a rag doll in their arms. One of the EMTs, a skinny guy with tattooed arms—sleeves as the kids would say—yelled to put the rag doll man down. The second responder, a larger, darker-skinned guy, began chest compressions. Sleeves yelled for the lifeguards and the few gawkers to back up. While his partner continued compressions, Sleeves got into his blue bag and hauled out a small face-mask-looking thing. Aaron recognized it from the teacher’s CPR course he’d taken last August. It was to place over the victim’s mouth to protect the victim and the would-be rescuer from any diseases. Aaron watched the EMTs work in tandem doing chest compressions and breaths. After a couple of minutes, the bigger of the two rescuers shook his head. Aaron put a hand to his mouth and backed away from the window. Not exactly the ideal way to start the day. He had no clue who the rag doll man was, but felt his stomach sink at the man’s death nonetheless.
The pig-nosed creature got him.
He shook the absurd thought from his mind and grabbed a cool Coors from the melted pool of ice water in his cooler. Beer for breakfast? Why not? Summer went by its own set of rules. You see a guy die on your sandy lawn—you get to drink. The not-quite-cold beer tasted like swamp piss. Like the river water you ingested that day the pig-nosed man grabbed your leg. He picked his phone up from the tiny nightstand: 9:36 a.m. No calls. He hit the Music button and then Play. Tom Petty’s classic tale of an American girl jangled to life. The song never failed to bring a smile to his face. In light of the damned dream and the failed rescue, Tom’s magic didn’t quite have its normal effect.
There is no pig-nosed man.
Damn dream.
It got our rag doll friend this morning.
Absurd.
Aaron finished the beer. His mouth tasted as sour as the face he was sure he was making. He went into the bathroom and started the shower. The day would only get better. He dropped his skivvies and climbed under the soft spray of
Chapter Nine
The water encompassed him, held him in its midnight depths. Aaron stretched his arms out wide and let the current pull him along. He opened his eyes and saw his friends gathered above the surface. They waved for him, called to him. He couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat thud to some unheard hypnotic tune. They were afraid. He wished they would calm down. The water was perfect. He could stay in here forever.
Suddenly two words broke through his happy swim: Look out!
Aaron looked from side to side. His shaggy hair, which his mother said was too long, waved in slow motion in his vision. His childhood best friend, Bobby, pointed down. Aaron let his blurry gaze drift below. Momentarily forgetting he was submerged, he screamed at the sight under his feet. The head and chest of a man, a flowing mane of black hair, black dots for eyes, a pig snout over a tiny fish mouth that bobbed open and closed like his pet goldfish, Kiki. The bizarre creature had green tentacles for arms. They reached up and wrapped around his ankles. He was jerked violently down. The surface and his friends were gone. Blackness surrounded him. His lungs attacked him from the inside, demanding air. The pig-nosed thing grasping his ankles continued to pull him into the deep, dark waters. Aaron tried to kick his legs free. The creature’s tentacles didn’t budge. Instead, they began to climb up his calves, his knees, his thighs…
The sound of sirens startled him from the horrible dream. He swung his arms and fought his way out of the comforter wrapped around him like a net. He scooted off of the bed in his boxer shorts and hurried to the window that faced the deep-blue monster that swallowed the sand beyond. Two EMTs met the lifeguards who were carrying a man that looked like a rag doll in their arms. One of the EMTs, a skinny guy with tattooed arms—sleeves as the kids would say—yelled to put the rag doll man down. The second responder, a larger, darker-skinned guy, began chest compressions. Sleeves yelled for the lifeguards and the few gawkers to back up. While his partner continued compressions, Sleeves got into his blue bag and hauled out a small face-mask-looking thing. Aaron recognized it from the teacher’s CPR course he’d taken last August. It was to place over the victim’s mouth to protect the victim and the would-be rescuer from any diseases. Aaron watched the EMTs work in tandem doing chest compressions and breaths. After a couple of minutes, the bigger of the two rescuers shook his head. Aaron put a hand to his mouth and backed away from the window. Not exactly the ideal way to start the day. He had no clue who the rag doll man was, but felt his stomach sink at the man’s death nonetheless.
The pig-nosed creature got him.
He shook the absurd thought from his mind and grabbed a cool Coors from the melted pool of ice water in his cooler. Beer for breakfast? Why not? Summer went by its own set of rules. You see a guy die on your sandy lawn—you get to drink. The not-quite-cold beer tasted like swamp piss. Like the river water you ingested that day the pig-nosed man grabbed your leg. He picked his phone up from the tiny nightstand: 9:36 a.m. No calls. He hit the Music button and then Play. Tom Petty’s classic tale of an American girl jangled to life. The song never failed to bring a smile to his face. In light of the damned dream and the failed rescue, Tom’s magic didn’t quite have its normal effect.
There is no pig-nosed man.
Damn dream.
It got our rag doll friend this morning.
Absurd.
Aaron finished the beer. His mouth tasted as sour as the face he was sure he was making. He went into the bathroom and started the shower. The day would only get better. He dropped his skivvies and climbed under the soft spray of
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