Bodily Functions

He ran from the outhouse with his pants down around his ankles. He didn’t want to do it, of course, but the only other option was to be stung by the damn wasp buzzing around his head and other more important parts. He stumbled and almost fell as he tried to get away, struggling with his faded, well-worn blue jeans as he went. Finally he gave up running and sat on the lumpy ground, grimacing when sharp edges dug into his butt. He got his pants up to his thighs, then he stood and pulled them all the way up. He was sweating and feeling like an idiot by the time he had them buttoned. It didn’t help that when he pushed straggling, dark hair out of his liquid brown eyes, he noticed an audience. There were four of them, but only one caught his eye.

She wasn’t pretty so much as vibrant, somehow. Her bluish eyes were taking him in, laughing at him he could tell. She had brown hair, the shiny kind, and it waved into her round, dimpled face. “Having some trouble,” she said with a giggle in her voice. Her hands were tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. He was trying not to stare at her breasts but there were jutting out at him through her white tank top, the kind with thin straps.

“Not a good day to go commando,” she continued, and he nodded slightly. It was then he broke her spell on him and took in the others. They looked like college girls, one who was tall with dull, curly brown hair that surrounded a long face and dark framed glasses. The other two were thin, plain and young, different shades of blonde with gaping pink mouths and eyes so mixed in color you couldn’t tell which the real color was. The one with the breasts was still looking at him.

“Where did you come from,” was the only thing he could think of at the moment, and he mentally thunked his own head. He sounded like a moron.

“We stopped our truck up there a piece,” the breasty one took a hand out of her pocket and gestured vaguely behind her. “We all needed a potty break.” Her grin widened. “My grandpa used to take me hunting back here so I remembered this old outhouse. I didn’t know it would be, um, occupied.”

He felt himself turning red and got irritated. There was nothing worse than a woman with the upper hand. Made Her uppity. “Yeah well, my Uncle Charlie took me fishing at the lake up there,” he gestured this time, “so I knew about this place, too.” He again brushed dark hair out of his eyes and started to edge around the girls.

“Where you going?” Breasty grinned at him, widening it in a flirty way as she jutted out that chest and zeroed in on him. “Why don’t you stick around? We got some beer in the back and need some company. What do you say?”

He knew he shouldn’t, but with her breasts pointed at him and that flirty grin on her dimpled face, he felt helpless.

“Sure,” he responded. “Just let me get back to my cycle and make a call.”

“Okay, we’ll be here.” She walked away, her butt-filled jeans sashaying with that rhythm sexy girls seem to have in their heads and he watched her walk, hating himself for knowing his tongue was hanging out. The other three girls seemed to file behind her and wait while she entered the outhouse. He thought belatedly he should have told them about the wasp, but maybe it was gone by now...a deafening screech as he was walking away told him differently. He flinched and turned around.

She was running out of the tiny building with her own pants around her ankles, hair flying this way and that while she tried to get the wasp away from her face. She stumbled and fell, fighting off the insect and choking with rage while she did it. Finally she was able to look up, face crimson and tears running down. “You could have told me, asshole!”

He stood in the distance, about ten feet away, and stared down at her with his own face a mask of mirth. “What did you think,” he started to chuckle. “That I ran out of there with my own pants down to give a show to the critters?”

“Dammit,” the girl uttered as she stood, dusted off her rear end, then pulled up her tight-fitting blue jeans. She was darn huffy, he reflected, and let out a guffaw. That really made her take off.

“You get out of here,” she pointed a rigid finger towards the edge of the wooded area. “We don’t want you in on our party anymore, asshole.”

“Fine by me,” he smirked at her, licked his lips at her heaving breasts and the thought of her bare bottom he’d just witnessed, and turned to go. It was then he felt the bareness of his neck. “Oh shit,” he uttered and whirled back around. “Has anyone seen my leather chain? It’s got something on it I have to keep.”

The girls stared at him and one of the blondes finally spoke. “Leather chain?” Her small, colorless brow furrowed but cleared as she gazed at the ground and bent, coming up with dark leather and a heart shaped silver locket. “You mean this necklace?” She jogged to him and handed it over.

“It’s not a necklace,” he snarled and put it over his head, burying the locket in his black t-shirt with the picture of a heavy metal band on the front. “It’s a leather chain. I made it.” He turned to walk away, then twisted and clipped out his last words to them. “Be glad you didn’t open it, the heart. I’d have had to take yours.” With that he was gone.

The girls stood for a moment, perplexed. They heard a motorcycle start up in the distance and roar away. Finally the tall one ventured, “do you think he was serious?”

“Of course not,” the girl with shiny brown hair tossed it back with a flounce. “He was bluffing.”

For some reason, none of the girls moved for another minute or two, then they ventured forward and walked silently back to the truck. They climbed in, and as the brown-haired girl started it up and was driving away, the tall one muttered softly, “you don’t think he was that guy they’re looking for, do you? The one from the news last night, who cut the hearts out of his girlfriend and her mother and stole all their cash and valuable stuff, then took off on a neighbor’s motorcycle?” They all stared at each other, eyes widening.

“Dana,” the other blonde who hadn’t spoken yet bulleted the name out, “You don’t get to choose who we invite to party with us, anymore.”