Estuary Trip

by

Kent L Johnson

When I want to go somewhere in this city, I usually walk or take a bus. Sometimes though, you just want to blow the place and get away from the cement, brick, asphalt, smoke and noise. I got my motorcycle unchained and I'm rubbing a cloth over the old beast, trying to get the dust and spiders off the surface while the battery charges.

“Hey, what's up?”

I turn and look. I smile. It's Tawnya, little gal from the past, from back in school. We spent a lot of time in Detention together. We got to know each other good enough to poke fun at one another, learn some personal history, and like seeing each other, kinda like friends, but not quite as close.

She looks the same. She's tiny, seems like she stands a foot lower than me, but I don't think that's right. She's wearin' 501 jeans held up by narrow hips and a big plaid button down, long sleeve shirt that hides the fact that she's got tits. Her face hasn't changed at all, plain with thin lips, freckles dappling across her nose spreading to her cheeks. She peers at me with deep blue eyes.

“Gonna go on a little ride. It's Saturday, no work. Break free of the buildings and noise for a little while.”

“I didn't know you had a motorcycle.” She exhales a cloud of  tobacco smoke, and flicks the ash from a little, thin cigarette. The ash drifts downward, bouncing off her jeans at the knee.

“I've had it for a while now. It's not much, pretty small, but I use it to get away. I go out to the estuary where plants grow, and birds fly. No power lines or cement walls.”  I point to the buildings and wires around us. The sun hits her head just right and her short straight brunette hair flashes bright red for a moment, not quite the color of my bike.

“What are you up to?” I ask.

“Just walked to the store to get a new pack.” She holds up a pack of Virginia Slims.

“You need to quit that you know?”

“How long you been stopped?” she chides me, “A month or two?” She smiles and I see her little square teeth spread across her face. I notice the beginning of a couple of smile lines startin' to spread from the corners of her eyes.

“Almost a year now.” I give the bike one more swipe of the rag and turn to Tawnya. “I don't see you around much? What you been up to?”

“Just work. Still at bottling plant. I hit a bar now and then...you know.”

“You don't hit the bars I hit.”

“Probably not.” She flicks the cigarette butt into the street in a wide arc. “Well, it was good seeing you.” She turns and starts to walk away.

“Wait,” I yell. She turns back to me.

“Want to go for a ride?” I feel my eyebrow inch up all on it's own. “You know, just get away for a while?”

I'm feelin' like I want to be alone, but with company. It's a strange feelin'. I think Tawnya would be nice company, and after seein' her again, maybe I don't want to be alone either.

“On that?” She suspiciously nods at the motorcycle that radiates rust and small drops of oil. “How old's that thing anyway?”

“It's goin' on thirty, but then, so are we.” I smile.

She doesn't smile as much as smirk at me. “Where to again?”

“I like to walk along the shores of the estuary, about twenty miles out of the city, near the abandoned Power plant. It's peaceful, quiet.” I watch her eyes, she blinks a couple times and I can tell she's thinkin'.

“Yeah, why not,” she says. “When?”

“Let me put the battery back in and we'll be on our way.”

Tawnya's small and light. I hardly feel her behind me as the motorcycle bursts out of the city. I feel a tug on my backpack once in a while as she uses it to steady herself. We pull off the highway onto a country road and follow it towards the water. Old factories from the industrial past, sit long abandoned beside the road. Weeds pry through chipped and cracked asphalt.  I see the old power plant near the waters edge; a twisted mass of rusty metal tubes and old brick smoke stacks surrounded by a tall corroded fence. The road comes to an end in a heap of sand less than a mile further from the old building.

I stop at the end of the road and put the kickstand down. We get off the bike and  hang our helmets on the handlebars. I lead the way to the top of the vegetation covered dune and we look out over the water. We can just make out a deer grazing on grass a quarter mile away on the far side of the estuary. Coots, loons and a few ducks bob up and down in the center of the water as a slight breeze ripples the surface. We walk. The smell is clean and it's easy to feel moisture surrounding you if you just stop and feel it. Gulls squawk as they fly overhead, looking for something to eat. There's not another person in sight.

The sun's warm and I stop. We sit in the sand and lean against a hill. I pull off  my back pack and open it. I hand her a bottle of beer procured from the bottom of the rig. She smiles and takes it from my hands. It's still cold. I open my own bottle and take a swig. It tastes good. She lights a cigarette and I get the scent of the first puff, always the best smelling puff and for a brief moment, I want a cigarette too. The feeling passes.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“About?”

“Anything.”

I watch the end of her cigarette glow as she inhales. She exhales and purses her lips.

“I think I want to be a truck driver.”

“Okay.” I have no idea where this is going. I keep quiet and hope she goes on.

“It may sound kind of strange, but kind of like being out here with you today, I like the silence, the quiet. I could go for that on a full time basis, like driving a truck... or maybe the Navy.”

“The Navy? Quite a contrast.”

“I guess. I just know I don't want to work in the bottling plant and live in the city for the rest of my life. I want to get away.”

“I know just how you feel.” I watch her snub the cigarette out in the sand, pushing the filter under the surface. I take a last gulp of beer and put the empty bottle back in my back pack.

“So, what are you doing to get out?” she asks. She hands me her empty bottle.

“Unfortunately, just thinkin' about it.”

“Yeah, that's all I've really done too.”

We get up and walk some more down the shoreline. I give her my hand and help her across a drainage culvert cut across our path. I don't let her hand go and she keeps a  grip on mine. We stop and watch oystercatchers prying their bright orange bills into the mud under the waters surface, searchin' for a meal.

I guide us back toward the dunes, turn and face Tawnya.  Her face is expressionless I move my face closer until our lips touch. I give her a small kiss and she responds in kind. We sit down in the sand, embrace and continue kissing. She pulls my tongue inside her mouth. I slip my hand into her oversized shirt and feel her small breasts. I rub the tips and she responds by kissing me more passionately. I reach between her legs and rub her sex through her jeans. I feel her hips thrust  forward, and she makes a sound.

She pushes me back and shakes her head.

“I can't,” she says.

“Okay.”

I watch her face and her eyes look even bluer than before. In a moment, her eyes appear wavy, like ripples in a puddle, then a tear breaks loose and runs down her face.

“I get sick. With men anyway,” she says. A couple more tears drip down her face.

 “And?”

“After my Dad died, before we moved to this city, my Mom...she dated others.”

I stay silent. She faces me, but her eyes avoid mine.

“My uncle would babysit when my Mom was gone. I wasn't even in puberty.”

“He molested you?”

She nodded her head.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me. I feel her head on my chest and her body convulses as she weeps. Her arms are around me and we're both warm. We stay that way, swaying back and forth for a while. I feel her crying diminish and hear her say, “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for laying this on you. I never told anyone.”

I don't say anything.

“That's why we don't see each other out. I hit the girl bars. I've tried to go out with men, but I... I just get sick.”

I put my arm around her and pull her close as we walk back to the motorcycle. The birds are a little quieter now, or maybe my thoughts are just louder. We ride back to the city and arrive before dark. A drive thru burger joint lures me in and I pick up the nights meal for both of us. I park the motorcycle and chain it up, then we walk up to my apartment. We sit at the table, eat a burger, and drink a bottle of beer. We're both quiet.

Tawnya finishes,  then opens a window in my apartment, sits on the sill and lights a cigarette. She exhales  most of the smoke through the screen to the outside.

“I'm really sorry,” she says to me.

“Sorry for what?”

“I know you really wanted to fuck today. I'm sorry I just...I hope I didn't ruin your day.”

I smile at her as I put my thoughts together. “Let me tell you something,” I start, “It's a two way street.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Both of us have to want to do it. It wasn't if I had it all planned out. I was just testing the waters, I mean, I like you and all, I still do. I thought you were getting turned on too.”

“I was, but when you touched between my legs... something just happens. I get really sick to my stomach.”

“I'm sorry about that, I didn't know.”

“I know. Not your fault. I shouldn't have even gone today.”

“No, I'm happy you went with me and I'm glad you stopped me, us, from gettin' it on. It's hard enough for a guy, me at least, wonderin' if he's really pleasing his partner, but I'd hate to be going at it, and you puke on me. Talk about givin' someone a complex.”

She smiles. “I'm not sure I'd puke on ya.”

“I'd rather not take that chance.”

She lights another Virginia Slim using the one she finishes and stares out the window. The sounds of the city enter the window: cars horns, a siren off in the distance, an argument in another apartment.  The smell of exhaust is covered this evening by tobacco smoke.

“How's your relationships with other girls?” I ask.

“Not great. A lot of us, we tend to get pissed off pretty easy. I get in fights. I broke my hand six months ago hitting a girlfriend in the jaw. A lot of us have similar stories.”

“Molested?”

“That or abuse.”

“How's the sex?”

“The sex is, well it's sex and I don't get sick, but in the back of my mind, I want a man. But I'm afraid.” She stops and takes another drag on the cigarette. “I just want to be normal, you know?”

“Normal. That's the question. What's normal?” I go over to the window and sit down in front of her. “Every time I think someone is normal, if you just dig a bit, you'll find out they're as fucked up as the next guy.”

We're both silent for a while.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” She puts out her cigarette by dropping it in the beer bottle and turns to me. “Mind if I take a shower?”

“No, go ahead. Clean towels are on the shelf.”

Tawnya comes out wrapped in a towel. Her hair is wet and she smells good. I shower next. We hold each other as we fall asleep in my bed listening to horns honking and people arguing, a long way from the estuary.

End