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by Bailey
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Family · #1290066
The sound's of laughter had echoed through the hills of the lake.
It was the summer of 1977. My family and I were spending a four-day weekend on our family's houseboat at Lake Monroe. This particular summer was very memorable to me, because it was my father's fiftieth birthday party. Also it was the first time a boy had ever kissed me.

As I sit and recall that summer, my memory drifts back to the tall skinny girl I was, who at the age of thirteen had long legs, causing me to tower over all the boys my age, except Michael. He was fourteen, and an older man to my girlish impressions. Michael was almost as tall as I was. His eyes were so blue that they matched the July sky. I thought I was deeply in love with Michael. However, what does a thirteen year old girl know about love? Plus, Michael didn't know I existed!
I knew I had to do something to get Michael to notice me. But what could I do to capture his attention?

So, I quickly slipped away from my duties and made my getaway. Grabbing my issue of Teen Beat Magazine and my beach towel, I had headed down the plank of the boat and out onto the beach. I had spread out my beach towel and with much ease plopped my thin little girl body down on the sand, I began plunging my feet deep into the warm soothing sand, and squishing it between my toes. All I had wanted to do was take a break from all the work we had been doing at my father's command, and the beach had been a wonderful retreat. The sand beneath me had formed to the curves of my slender body. It supported me as though I was lying on a sleep number bed. I had begun to feel the warmth of the sun radiating along my body. Tiny beads of perspiration had developed on my skin, catching the gentle breeze as it blew across the miniature beads of sweat, instantly sending a cool wave of tingling goose bumps along my body. I didn't know that this moment of tranquility was about to be interrupted.

My father who is a retired USAF Master Sergeant worked us like his troops that weekend. One of my three brothers and I had been busy earlier that morning unloading party supplies and food from the truck. We marched up and down the hill with such demanded urgency from my father, that it was as though we were packing military supplies to the frontline of a war! That's how things sometimes went with my Dad. You took a direct command and you obeyed his order without question.

I was finally relieved to have a break from what seemed like military bootcamp, and focus my attention to more important issues; such as reading the main article in Teen Beat Magazine, 10 Ways to Tell Him You Love Him. I had just begun reading  when I heard my mother's voice calling out, "Becky, I need you to come help me with the coolers. We don't have much time left. C'mon get your hind end up here now! I was thinking to myself, how could she interrupt me at this critical moment in my life? One thing about my Mom,  even though it was my father who had the stripes on his shoulders,  it was my mother who was the,  " drill sergeant," and my Dad was the big gun who backed her up!  Couldn't she see that I had a major crisis going on? I had one night to gain Michaels attention. He and his family were leaving the next morning to go home. My plan was to search the romance horoscope to find evidence that some where in this vast universe, Michael and I were destined to be together. So I had thrown my magazine down, and stomped off to help my Mom.

It was dusk at the lake, and the sun had begun to set, casting a beautiful array of burgandy hues across the western sky. Houseboats were lined up and down the shore. Each boat had their stereos tuned to the same popular Bloomington Indiana radio station, causing Glen Campbell's song Rhinestone Cowboy to broadcast through the early evening air.

Spirits among my family members were eager and giddy with anticipation for the awaited guest. However, reflecting back I believe some of this giddiness was due to the keg of beer that they had already begun drinking. That's what happened in our Irish Family. We came together, family and friends, and had mammoth amounts of food and drink.

The sound's of laughter had echoed through the hills of the lake. Smoke from the mesquite chips on the barbecue grills mixed with the air, flavoring the atmosphere with tantalizing aromas; capturing the attention of envious passersby. The sun had gone down and all the guest had begun to arrive. Just earlier that day the beach was in its natural form, almost as if it resembled a protected nature habitat. Looking back it was quite comical to me how all of us must have appeared crazy to the non partying boaters. We were a wild bunch. Adding a new dimension to the beach that night by spoiling the purity of nature's serene habitat. Kids were running up and down the shore with trails of giggles following them. Close by my brother was letting off firecrackers that exspelled white puffs of sulfur into the air. And to the veterans in the crowd the firecrackers probably sounded like  spraying machine guns tempting them to duck for cover.

We had placed lawn chairs around the bonfire and the entrance into the bonfire was lined with tiki torches. Mom was busy handing out grass skirts as she swayed her plus size hips to the amplified music. I was busy adorning each guest with a lei and a friendship kiss when I heard a familiar voice, and felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Turning around I immediatly came face to face with Michael. Before I could step back he leaned in quickly and kissed me right on the mouth! This had taken me by surprise! At that same moment my brother yelled out, "did you get any tongue?" I had been so humiliated, I darted off into the darkness. My brother's hyena like laughter haunted my ever step with ricoched echoes that only intensified with his continued screaching outburst. Up the plank of the boat I stomped, throwning myself on to the nearest bunk bed, and burrying my head in a pile of pillows. After a few moments I was ready to come out of the pillow burial for air. The stining words and laughter from my brother had begun to fade away, and I began daydreaming of Michael and I being married, and receiving his kiss again, only this time it was at our wedding.

 
© Copyright 2007 Bailey (baileysdream at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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