I was an eager twelve-year old vacationing on the outskirts of Hilton Head Beach when I had my first kiss. I needed the vacation a break from the commas the division the kings and their wars reading drum lessons television. It was my best friend Joey his family and I on this trip. Aside from
escaping the pressures of a twelve-year old, I had a secret agenda as well: to find beauty in the female form and then kiss it. Joey, well he had his agenda too: to watch me do so.
I met my prey at the Slushy Saloon, midday. The sour apple ice bits in my hand empowered me like only an ichor of the gods could. The girl was wearing a one piece bathing suit and had breasts. I called her Ashley. I talked to her and knew that she was in … all in. Joey could have her friend.
We arranged for a romantic rendezvous that evening, at the Paradise Palm Pool or some other form of tropical tripe. I couldn’t believe that I had found a girl as desperate as I, but hell, could I say no? She had breasts.
Time came around and Joey and I were dressed to impress. We had scuba gear— neon yellow scuba gear—top-shelf stuff. The girls showed up fashionably late and giggled with pleasure at the sight of us studs, our virile bodies splashing about in the pool. My brunette beauty was wearing a teeni-weenie, black and white, polka dot bikini. Her friend was wearing a one piece that was none too flattering and an off shade of the color vomit.
I tried to impress my babe by doing a flip under water. This was before I acknowledged her presence. She smiled slyly and entered the pool. She approached with eyes that were bright and intimidating. I quickly realized that the hunter, me, had become the hunted. She was a panther; I was a rabbit. She hugged me, rubbing her chest on mine. Her friend in the green one piece tried to hug me as well, but I used Joey to block the offensive. Then things got rowdy.
We played full on, no limits, no rules tag. It was going well. I got to commune with Ashley on the grandeur of Happy Gilmore, a movie that we both found close to perfect. After 10 minutes or so, tag got dull but I did find opportunities to nonchalantly brush my hand against Ashley’s perfect body. Our precious moments went stale with the constant interruptions of Ashley's friend.
We eventually blew her off completely and with one arm around my candy, we waded to the adult end of the pool, near the hot tub, where the friend would not dare to follow, or so I thought. But even there the friend persisted in her annoying, asking if she could borrow my snorkel as if it were community property. I wanted to say yes just to shake rid of her, but being an only child sharing was not easily done, especially with those less attractive than Tiffany Amber Thiesson. I lied to her and said, “Maybe later.”
My lady in the bikini suggested we play Truth or Dare after we realized the hot tub was a little full. I’ve never agreed to anything more eagerly in my life as I rubbed my hands in excitement. Forget tag, I told myself, this is the game of legends.
The first task was something easily forgettable, like patting your head and rubbing your stomach simultaneously or something immature like that. I was ready for action; the time came soon enough. My boy Joey hooked it up by throwing out the next dare. He dared Ashley to kiss me on the lips for 30 seconds. A lot can happen in that time span, but I had every confidence; I had all the momentum. I mean, I’d seen Saved by the Bell, I knew the score. The only question was if Ashley wanted it. Of course she did.
She turned and faced me. All I could see was the beautiful, untarnished skin of her face outlined by that penetrating black hair, her blue eyes windows to the pool breathing behind her. Our lips met and there was music, beautiful, beautiful symphonies, summoning the water to rise in triumphant waves around our firm bodies. Such a moment makes a boy feel like a man. The rush, those seconds being there, in that pool, I can’t forget something like that and neither do I want to. I could have stayed trapped there … but only for the first few seconds.
Ten seconds later, I was sweating bullets bored, mainly because I had no idea what I was doing or what to do next. My lips were clenched so tight, not even air was going through those barriers. My eyes were opened, hers were closed. Joey was circling us, counting down from the 30 mark Mississippi-style. Time passed, each second more redundant and repetitive than the last, more boring than a 10 hour church sermon. Hell, I could have stayed back at the room and done this to a wall. However, things started to change radically.
My lips started feeling awkward, like a soft, wet finger was trying to get into my mouth. I had to hold this intruder at bay, show it the walls to Rome are strong. I sucked in my top and bottom lips and gave them a small clamping with my teeth, doubling up the home security. But this effort only served to enrage the slippery beast which was thrashing around from side to side like a shark trying to penetrate a net.
Poor Joey was so frightened that he couldn’t count anymore. His bottom jaw was so agape it was treading pool water. I gave Joey a wink from my right eye, letting him know that all’s good on the western front. I could hold out for days like this. My gesture did not ease Joey’s worried mind. He looked even more concerned, like he should jump in and help me. Then I began thinking, maybe I should fight back, get some of my fingers involved in this fray. No. Such an idea was preposterous. My fingers needed to stay right where they were, guarding the treasured snorkel and scuba mask combination. Joey blinked out of his trance, calling time, shaking his head, trying to erase whatever vision would be haunting him for the rest of his life.
Ashley looked at me as if she was going to be plagued by a lifetime of unanswered questions. I myself felt noble, stoic, godly. I was Lord of the kiddy pool, king, adviser, and head chef of a damn expensive restaurant. I was a messiah, Ashley was on my arm and Joey was on my coat tails.
Joey looked shaken and desperate for comfort. I swam over to him and gave him a manly pat on the back, eager to share my wisdom with the common man.
“That looked horrible,” Joey said, shaking his head.
I nodded, disappointed in my friend’s conclusion. “It was like,” I began, hoping the muses would pass through me a metaphor for all kisses to come, but the Devil in the one piece could no longer bed down her jealousy. She dashed forward with the speed and strength of a mule and groped for my snorkel and mask combination.
No she didn’t, I thought.
My snorkel was snatched away.
Yes she did.
Joey and I snapped into action as he barreled after the T-Rex.
I took a quarter of a second and pondered the hoggish reasoning of envious friends, and then I sprang into action. Joey then cut off the God of Thunder from the front.
I sneaked behind the shrew but she heard me and panicked, jutting to the side of the pool causing a gush of water to knock Joey and I back. She made it to the side rail, smiling. Climbing out of the pool, she looked like King Kong mounting a building, only she was laughing like a drunken gypsy. But private property is no joke and she was winded, granting me the opportunity to strike.
She grunted loudly, swinging herself up and out of the pool. She stood victoriously, snorkel and mask gleaming luminously in her filthy hands. She might as well have beat her chest with her knuckles and whooped for all the people on the island to hear what a primate she was. She was about to put the translucent mouthpiece in … but she stopped, noticing that I was nowhere to be found. Then, from behind her, I executed my blow.
She didn’t see me get out of the pool at the same time that she did. All she felt were my angry hands of justice shoving the fat on her back side with 12 years of strength, knocking the snorkel and mask free from their abductor. She emerged from the pool smiling and shook the water from her ears, that smile branding hate on my eyes.
Furious, crazy with anger, I yelled, “You're fat.”
There will never be anything more silent than that pool was. I realized and instantly regretted the power women have over men and I wondered if Ashley would forgive me, but she was swimming away before I realized what had happened. Ashley looked beautiful when she was angry, she looked beautiful swimming away, and to this day, I can say that never again will a beautiful woman ever leave me over something as silly as a snorkel.?
