The Year I Almost Drowned (33 page)

asked.

Great

he

noticed,

I

thought.

“Yeah,”

I

lied.

He didn’t press the issue and started his truck. The loud v8 engine roared as we

moved out of the gravel driveway and onto the two-lane road. Country music

played in the background. It was some unfamiliar tune about a man having the

blues because his woman left him for the next door neighbor. I wasn’t a country

music fan and was surprised that Everett was. But really, I didn’t know much

about him except that he had been a Marine and was now a police officer.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, motioning to the air conditioning vents.

“I’m fine,” I said. Really, I was still sweating from being overly anxious. I wasn’t

about

to

share

that

news

with

him.

“I

haven’t

been

to

a

dance

since

high

school.”

It didn’t sound like that long ago to me, then I remembered how old he was or at

least how old I thought he was, and figured it could’ve been a very long time for

him. I had never asked Everett about his age, but I was very curious. Meg said

he was twenty-six. She was pretty bad with details, though. “Senior prom?” I

asked.

“Yeah.

I

had

to

wear

a

tux

to

that

one.”

“What was your theme?” Proms always have a theme. I helped come up with my

school’s prom theme even though I didn’t attend. I didn’t go to a single dance in

high school. Last year’s dance was the first and only one I had ever gone to in

my entire life and it was unforgettable. It was one of the best night’s of my life. It

was

when

I

realized

how

much

I

liked

Jesse.

“A Night of Magic,” he said and rolled his eyes. “It was pretty cheesy. I haven’t

thought

about

prom

in

a

long

time.”

“I

try

to

forget

high

school,”

I

said.

He laughed. “Most people do. You graduated last year, right?”

“Yeah,” I answered and then asked, “When did you graduate?”

“Eight years ago. I hope that doesn’t make you think I’m an old man,” he joked.

“No, Meg kinda hinted your age,” I answered truthfully. “Twenty-six isn’t old.”

“I’ll

be

twenty-six

in

a

month.”

“Then you’re really not that much older than me,” I teased.

“I know I’m a little older than you, Finn, but you’re really mature for your age.” He

looked at me seriously and then back at the view of the winding roads that were

in

front

of

us.

“I’m

really

not

that

mature.”

“I’d say running a diner at, you’re nineteen right?” he asked. “Running a diner at

nineteen

takes

a

lot

of

maturity.”

“I think the diner is running me,” I said, and we both laughed.

***

We arrived at Skyland barn which had once been owned by the McMurray family.

Once Ted McMurray passed away, his son sold all the land and the barn, as well

the old farm house, and it became a place for events like weddings, family

reunions and The Rotary Club’s Annual Square Dance fundraiser.

The outside of the barn was illuminated with twinkling white lights. Even the trees

were adorned in lights. Fiddles and banjos and a man with a slight twang in his

voice, could be heard from the distance. The closer we came to the barn, the

louder the music became. People were clapping, shouting “yee haw” and “woo

hoo,” while pounding their feet onto the hard wooden floors.

White lights were wrapped around each and every weathered wooden beam.

Antiqued chandeliers surrounded by greenery hung from the tall, timber-framed

ceiling. Teak wooden folding chairs sat unfolded, encircling each round table.

Every table had white hydrangeas in shiny glass vases as center pieces. The

décor was similar to last year’s dance, only it was prettier. Off to the side, sitting

against the wooden beamed walls, were rusty patio chairs. And even though they

were

dingy,

they

fit

perfectly

and

looked

right

at

home.

A live band filled the raised stage. The band included a fiddler, banjo player, guitar

player, double bass player, and a piano player. Most of the music was

instrumental with the exception of a few cackles and vague lyrics sung by the

lead musician who was an older man with a long gray beard. He wore a pair of

denim

overalls

and

a

plaid

button-up

top.

Everett placed his hand on the small of my back. We moved through the crowd,

searching for a place to sit. “How’s this?” he asked, pointing to an empty table off

to

the

side

of

the

crowded

and

bustling

dance

floor.

“This is fine.” We sat down facing the throngs of square dancers, their bodies

moving

to

the

beat

of

the

music.

Everett said something to me, but I couldn’t hear him over the music. I pointed to

my ear. He leaned closer to me and said in my ear, his lips almost touching my

earlobe, “We used to square dance in my PE class when I was in grade school.”

I nodded and then smiled. Only in Graceville would you square dance in PE and

receive credit for it. I found myself tapping my feet on beat to the music. I was

ready

to

dance.

I

just

didn’t

know

if

Everett

was.

“Next

dance:

The

Virginia

Reel,”

the

announcer

called.

“Do

you

want

to

dance?”

Everett

asked.

“Yes.”

I

jumped

up.

We made our way onto the dance floor. I stood in the single-file line of all females;

Everett was across from me, adjacent to all the other guys in a single file line.

The music started, and the dance began. The couple at the front of the line started

to move, advancing toward us, interweaving through both lines, as we cheered

them on. The lead guy came to each and every female in line and wrapped his

arm around theirs, swinging them around before moving on to the next girl. The

band upped the tempo; the lead couple held hands, raising their arms up to form

a make-shift bridge. All the couples joined hands and ran under their raised arms,

forming two single-file lines to start the dance again, only this time with a new

lead couple. And one part of that new couple included Jesse.

Jesse swung his partner around, raising her high off the ground. I didn’t recognize

her; we’d never met. She was pretty and seemed to be enjoying herself. A lot.

Which bothered me. I’m not a jealous person but, that’s exactly what I was–

jealous.

Jesse moved through the long line of girls, twirling each round and round and

then it was my turn. We stared intently into each other’s eyes as he wrapped his

arm into mine and we do-si-doed. Then he was on to the next girl. Even after the

new lead couple started another dance, I found myself searching for Jesse in the

long

line

of

guys.

Everett and I were finally at the front of the line. He grabbed a hold of my hand

and swung me around. He’d never have Jesse’s dancing skills; he just wasn’t as

graceful. I know it’s unconventional to describe a guy as being graceful, but

Jesse’s dance moves were flawless. I weaved through the long line and found

my way to Jesse. He held onto my hand and we do-si-doed again. Our eyes

locked, and I couldn’t gauge what he was thinking or feeling. I felt like it was only

the two of us out there dancing, like no one else existed. Maybe its because he

was my first love, my only love, that these intense feelings struck me? All I knew

was that a part of me yearned to be with him and him only on this night. I quickly

moved on to the next guy and within a matter of time, the dance was over.

Everett smiled and said, “That was fun.” He was sweating.

“It

was,”

I

agreed.

I looked all over the barn trying to find Sidney or my Nana. Nana was no where

to be found; Sidney was sitting in the corner of the barn next to Tony, giggling.

Tony was smiling, too. I tried to get her attention and waved at her. She wasn’t

paying attention. I waved again, and she finally saw me and headed my way.

“Having fun?” I arched my eyebrows. “It sure looks like it.”

“Actually, I am,” she said with a surprised expression. “What about you?”

“Yeah. We just finished dancing,” I said, gesturing to Everett.

“How

ya

doing,

Everett?”

she

asked

him.

“A little thirsty,” he answered her and then asked me, “Do you want something to

drink,

Finn?”

“Yeah,

I

would.

Thanks,”

I

answered.

Sidney’s eyes glanced in several directions. “Who’s that girl Jesse’s been dancing

with?”

she

whispered

once

Everett

left

us

alone.

“I

don’t

know,”

I

said,

trying

not

to

sound

jealous.

“Do you want me to find out?” she asked. “Because I can get the goods from

Tony,

you

know

what

I

mean?”

“No.

That’s

okay.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged. “I better get back to Tony before he misses me too

much.

See

you

later.”

I searched the room again trying to find my Nana, but she wasn’t anywhere to be

found. There were so many people in the barn, more than there were the previous

year. The room was packed, and the temperature was constantly rising. I wiped

the sweat off of my forehead and stood awkwardly alone waiting for Everett to

come

back

with

my

drink.

“Hey,”

Jesse

said,

popping

up

from

behind

me.

I jumped a little and moaned, “Jesse, you scared me.” I tried to catch my breath.

“You’re so easy to scare.” He laughed. I glared at him, but I couldn’t keep a

straight

face.

“Where’s

Everett?”

“He’s

getting

us

drinks,”

I

said.

“The

dance

is

probably

wearing

him

out.”

“What?”

I

gave

him

a

confused

expression.

“You know, ‘cause he’s so old,” he joked and then smiled.

I

rolled

my

eyes.

“He’s

not

old,

Jesse.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said. “Although, do you realize that he has voted in the last

two presidential elections and you haven’t even voted in one yet?”

“You

haven’t

either,”

I

replied

defensively.

“Still

bad

with

the

cut

downs,

huh.”

He

smiled.

I folded my arms and pouted. “No. I..., oh forget it!” I said gruffly.

“I remember when you’d spend hours trying to come up with the perfect quip and

then it’d still kinda suck.” He laughed again and then playfully nudged me. “You

were always so proud of yourself, like you had come up with the best comeback.”

I scowled at him, even though deep down I wanted to laugh because what he

said

was

true.

“So did you guys stop for doughnuts on the way here?”

“Doughnuts?”

I

repeated,

my

expression

confused.

“For crying out loud, Finn,” he said. “What do cops eat?”

I gave him a dirty look. “Not all cops, Jesse. Besides, you can tell by looking at

him

that

he’s

in

shape.”

“For now. After a few years of free coffee and doughnuts, he’ll be as big as

Gordy.”

Gordy was on the police force and was severely obese. It was a running joke

amongst Graceville locals that Gordy was so fat he couldn’t chase a turtle. “I’m

surprised you’re making fun of cops. Aren’t firefighters and cops supposed to

stick

together?”

“No way,” he said emphatically. “Haven’t you ever heard that real women marry