Lauren Holmes - Barbara the Slut and Other People

“I’m gonna go jump in,” I said.

“Want me to come with you?” said my mom.

“That’s okay,” I said. I waded into the cold water and then dove. I swam along the sand for a few minutes and then floated on my back. The water felt good and I felt completely empty, my stomach and my brain, like I didn’t have any thoughts at all.

Eventually my mom got in the water and got her head wet, and I followed her back to our towels and lay down. My mom handed me a sandwich and a beer, and we ate our lunch. When I was done I went to sleep, and I woke up under a beach umbrella and next to Mak’s big belly.

“You were going to get a real bad burn,” he said. “You were out like a drunk. Drooling, the whole nine yards.”

“Thanks for the umbrella,” I said.

My mom came up from the water and straddled Mak on the chair and shook her hair all over him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bit her shoulder.

“Get a room,” I said.

They ignored me and eventually my mom got off of him and lay down on her towel.

“I took your car in,” said Mak.

“I know,” I said, “thank you.”

“It does not look good,” he said.

“What?” I said. “Why not?”

“They said it never would’ve passed inspection in the state of North Carolina. Bottom is rusted out, holed out, nothing for the muffler to hang on to.”

“North Carolina sucks,” I said.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, wouldn’t have passed inspection in the state of Virginia or the state of anywhere else either.”

“We’ll work something out, honey,” said my mom.

“I’m going to Raleigh no matter what,” I said.

“Fine,” said my mom.

“I will crawl there if I have to.”

“We’ll get you there,” said my mom.

I checked my phone and had eleven missed calls from Noah. My mom took my phone and called him back. She repeated everything to me and Mak—“Dylan got caught shoplifting… a lighter… a Zippo… Tina is picking them up.” We got our stuff together and walked back to the house and waited for them. I was kind of excited. I was pretty sure this was going to be a shit show.

When Tina’s car pulled in, both boys and the dog were in the backseat. When they all got out Tina looked furious, Dylan was crying, Noah looked tired, and Petey looked happy that everybody was together.

“I think we all need to have a conversation,” Tina said to my mom.

“Okay,” said my mom.

I decided I wasn’t included in “we all” and stayed outside with Petey. I watched Noah follow everybody inside and felt bad for him.

I sat under the front windows on the dining room side, where I would be able to hear them. If it had been my mom leading the investigation she would have led everyone to the couches in the living room, but I knew Tina would lead everyone to the table.

“Andy!” I heard Tina yelling. “We’re here! Come down!”

“Tina,” Andy said, already downstairs. “Please, don’t yell.”

“Somebody has to yell,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. A chair dragged on the floor.

“Dylan, do you want to tell us what happened?” said Tina.

“It’s not my fault,” Dylan sobbed.

“What happened?” said Andy.

Dylan cried harder. “Noah took things!” he said.

“Is that true?” said my mom.

“No,” said Noah. “Well, I took matches.”

“You did?” said Tina.

“Matches are free,” said my mom.

“But not for kids,” said Tina.

“It’s not shoplifting,” said my mom.

“Why would anyone take matches in front of a little kid?” said Tina.

“I’m not a little kid!” said Dylan.

“I didn’t even think about it,” said Noah. “I always put some in my pocket.”

“How is Dylan supposed to know the difference between matches and a lighter?” said Tina. “Dylan, did you know that you weren’t supposed to take the lighter?”

“No,” he wailed. “I didn’t know!”

I kept waiting for one of the men to say something. An elderly couple walked by very slowly. The woman was holding the man’s arm and it looked like the man couldn’t see very well or at all. Petey wagged his tail and I waved, and the woman waved back.

“It seems like everyone did something wrong here,” said Tina through the window. “We shouldn’t have let them go out on their own. Noah shouldn’t have taken the matches. Dylan shouldn’t have taken the lighter. Andy?”

“Hold on,” said my mom. “Noah taking the matches didn’t mean Dylan had to take the lighter.”

“Dylan was clearly influenced by Noah’s actions,” said Tina. “Andy!”

“I agree,” said Andy.

“Noah didn’t do anything wrong,” said my mom.

“He shouldn’t be taking matches,” said Tina.

“That’s not your problem,” said Mak.

“It’s my problem now,” said Tina. “Isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not,” said Mak. “Dylan is your problem, Noah is our problem.”

“Noah’s not a problem,” said my mom.

“You know what I mean,” said Mak.

“Well, Dylan’s never been a problem before today,” said Tina.

Someone snorted.

“Fuck you, Mak,” said Andy.

“Okay, boys, you can be excused,” said Tina. “Dylan, go to our room and wait for us to come up.”

Noah must have made a gesture, because my mom said, “Yeah, honey.”

I heard Dylan and Noah go up the creaky stairs, and then heard one of them come back down. Noah came outside and I crawled out from under the window. He pointed to the road with his thumb, and Petey and I followed him. We could hear the grown-ups raising their voices as we walked away.

“You hear all that?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I hate that kid.”

“He’s okay,” said Noah. “It’s not his fault.”

“It’s not his fault that he sucks?”

Noah laughed. “Yeah.”

“You really think he didn’t know not to take it?”

“Oh he knew,” said Noah. “He came running out with this crazy look on his face, and then when he realized the guy was behind him he tried to make a run for it.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell them that?”

“Wouldn’t have helped,” he said.

When we got to the park Petey ran ahead, wagging his whole body. Noah lit his joint. He passed it to me and I took a hit. I almost never smoked anymore and it caught me in the throat. Noah laughed.

“Mom and Mak stood up for you,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said.

The second hit wasn’t as bad, and by the end of the joint I was used to it again. Maybe I would have been happier if I smoked more weed. Everything slowed down in a way that was very relaxing. In high school Noah would sometimes talk me into smoking with him at night, or on the way to school in the morning. Whenever we smoked before my precalculus class, I felt smart. I still wouldn’t know what the numbers meant, but the board would seem organized, and the numbers would seem independent from each other, like they were each doing their own job. On those mornings I wondered if I was going to solve some problem that nobody else had ever solved in the whole history of math.

• • •

When we got back the sun was setting. My mom and Mak met us in the yard and said we were going out for pizza. Mak got in the driver’s seat and we all got in the car.

“I’m really sorry,” said Noah.

“It’s okay, honey,” said my mom. She reached back and patted him on the leg. “It’s not about you.”

At the pizza place no one knew what to say, so Mak gave my mom, and by default us, a play-by-play of his game that morning. Usually my mom shut him down as soon as he started talking about golf, but tonight she was asking questions and nodding.