Charleston, 1995

Charleston, 1995

Every June, when the air gets thick and the Alabama sun doesn’t set until nine o’clock, when the fireflies flicker against the pines bordering a freshly cut hay field, when the wind changes late in the afternoon and you can smell the rain before you can see it, I’m taken back, if only for a fleeting moment, to Charleston, 1995.

It’s been thirty-one years since my grandmother dropped me off at my aunt’s house to spend one last summer with my cousin Jamie before he went off to college. Since the first time I rode a rollercoaster. Since her.

It’s funny, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but I can still remember the look on Jamie’s face when I stepped out of my grandmother’s old Lincoln and he had to look up to me. He was a couple of years older than me, and though we were close, he still liked to pick on me for being smaller. But freshman year had been kind to me.

“Damn, cuz. How’s the weather up there?”

Unfortunately, I was still built like a matchstick. A point not lost on Jamie.

“Come here.” Jamie said, motioning for me to come stand beside him.

“Now hold your arms out like this.”

He held both of his arms straight out at his side.

I reluctantly agreed. I was curious to see where he was going with this.

“Perfect. Perfect.” He stepped back and looked at me.

“Perfect for what?”

“You’ll make a perfect scarecrow for the garden out back.”

“Man.”

He ran at me, but before he could wrap me up, I caught him, spun him around, and dumped him on the grass.

“Boys!” The thick southern accent of my Aunt Faye rang out through the screen door.

“Good to see you, cuz.” Jamie grinned.

“You too.” I smiled, as I rubbed the top of his head before I helped him to his feet.

That night we sat around a small table on the screened-in back porch of their house, playing dominoes under the dim light of the squeaking ceiling fan. It’s weird how I can still hear the rhythm of that high pitched whine all these years later.

“So, what you got planned for us?” I asked.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I’ve got a part-time job at a grocery store in town. So, I’ll have to do that two or three days a week, but other than that we can do whatever and on the days I work, you can ride into town with me if you want. I’m sure you can find something to get into.”

“Domino.” I said as I laid my last tile on the table.

“Son of a..”

“Jamie!” Aunt Faye yelled from inside the kitchen.

For the first couple of weeks, I would just hang out around the house on the days Jamie had to work. That got old quickly.

“I think I’m going to go with you tomorrow.”

The next morning, we got to the grocery store at eight o’clock.

“Be back here by three. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.” Jamie said.

We passed a putt-putt golf course on the way in, so I thought I’d give it a try, but when I got to the entrance it didn’t open for another hour. So, I took a walk.

When I got back, the sign was flipped to open, but no one was there—or so I thought. I rang the little silver bell that was on the counter, and she popped up from behind it.

“Oh hey. Sorry, I was tying my shoe.” She said as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail to get it off her neck in the summer heat.

Her eyes were green or blue, I never really could decide.

“Eighteen or thirty-six?”

“Huh?”

“They’re two, eighteen-hole courses. You want to play one or both?”

“Uh, thirty-six…um both.”

“You sure?” She said, her lips curling into a smile.

She must’ve thought I was an idiot.

“You from around here?”

“No, visiting from Alabama. You?”

“Born and raised. What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Maddie.” She said, as she handed me a ball and putter. “Good luck.”

“You too.”

It took me three steps before I realized what I said.

Looking back now, I wish I could tell you that it was her smile or her laugh that first caught my attention. But I was fifteen, and she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.

Jamie didn’t have to work the next day, but I talked him into going to play putt-putt.

“Bama, you’re back.” Maddie said.

Jamie looked at me. “You two know each other?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“What’s wrong with Bama?”

“I’m an Auburn fan. What’s wrong with Sam?”

“Well, I know, like, five Sams. But you’re the only one from Alabama.”

I nodded. “Bama it is.”

I knew I was going to catch hell from Jamie about that one, but it was a hill I wasn’t willing to die on. Besides, she remembered me.

For the next couple of weeks, Jamie went to work, and I’d wander over to the putt-putt course. Most mornings started about the same way—until one day.

“Back again?”

“Well, Jamie had work so…”

“So, you thought you’d just play a few rounds by yourself.”

“I guess.”

She grabbed a couple of putters and balls.

“Here, I’ll play with you.”

“Don’t you have to watch the counter?”

“You’re the only person that comes this early in the morning.”

She put her ball down on the first tee.

“Let’s make this interesting.” She said.

“How?”

“If you beat me on the first eighteen, I’ll give you a free round the next time you come.”

She gave the ball a tap.

“Which will probably be tomorrow.” She laughed.

“And if you beat me?”

“I’ll think of something.”

I still remember the way she smiled at me when she said that.

We finished the first eighteen. I beat her, but I’m not sure she didn’t let me win.

“I’m starving.” She said.

“Tell you what. If I make a hole in one on this hole, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“A little cocky aren’t ya?”

“It ain’t cocky if you can back it up.”

“That so?”

I gave the ball what I thought was confident little tap.

Wide right.

“Ooh, So close.” Maddie mocked.

“Double or nothing.”

I picked up my ball and made the walk of shame back to the tee.

Short.

“Just a little more.” Maddie said as she sat perched on the handrail around the hole.

“One more try.”

Rimmed out.

By this time Jamie was on his lunch break and had joined us.

Too hard.

I stood at the tee box and took a deep breath.

“C’mon Bama. You got this.”

“Yeah, Bama.” Jamie said mockingly.

Wide left.

It took me seven tries, but I finally got to buy her a cheeseburger that day.

As Jamie and I were getting into his truck to leave that afternoon, Maddie yelled across the parking lot.

“Hey Bama, I’m going up to my friend’s house at Myrtle Beach on the fourth to watch the fireworks. Wanna come?”

“What’s Myrtle Beach?”

Jamie chimed in, “It’s like that place in Florida that your Granddad likes to go to because of the dog races.”

“Oh. Panama City?”

Jamie snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.”

“So, you in?”

I looked at Jamie.

He nodded.

“Sure.”

The drive to Myrtle Beach was only a couple of hours but it seemed like it was forever. Jamie’s truck spit and sputtered down the highway as best it could. We rode with the windows down and the radio up. When we arrived, it was just like Jamie had described; palm trees, surf shops, arcades and restaurants. People everywhere, some fully clothed, some not so much.

Maddie told us to meet them at the Pavilion Amusement Park, where we could spend the day and then go to her friend’s beach house that night to watch the fireworks.

“Bama! Bama! Over here.” Maddie yelled, jumping up and down and waving her arms. “Took y’all long enough.”

“Sorry. Jamie’s truck takes a little persuading to get going.”

“Watch it.” He pointed at me.

I knew that one would sting him a little.

“What you want to ride first?” Maddie asked.

“Don’t know. Never been to an amusement park before.”

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s break you in easy then. What about bumper cars?”

I think that’s the only time I wished I had told her no. That girl was so mean on those bumper cars. My neck hurts just thinking about it.

“Want to grab some lunch?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Bama.”

“I’ll be fine.”

We got a couple of hotdogs from the concession stand and rode a few of the smaller rides.

“You think you can handle the big one?”

I looked up at the train of cars zooming around in the sky on a track that looked like it was held up by toothpicks.

“Uh…o…ok.”

I must’ve had a concerned look on my face because while we were standing in line, I felt her slide her fingers between mine and squeeze. She looked up at me with the sweetest eyes.

“Good?”

“Good.” I smiled back.

And I was good, for a little while. We got on that rollercoaster, and it made a few loops, then began its slow crawl to the top. I grabbed the handlebar as tight as I could.

Maddie reached over and put her hand on mine. Bless her heart, I think she thought I was scared to death. I was really just trying to keep my lunch in my gut.

“Can we take a break from the rides for a little bit?” I said as I wobbled my way down the exit ramp of the rollercoaster.

“Sure.” Maddie giggled. “Want another hotdog?”

I bolted to the nearest bathroom.

When I came out Maddie was waiting for me with a large cup of cold lemonade.

“Here, I thought this might help get the bad taste out of your mouth.”

“Thank you.” I said as I took a few tiny sips, trying to see how it hit my stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Maddie.”

“Don’t be.” She smiled. “You actually made it longer than I figured you would.”

“What do you want to do now?”

She slid her hand into mine. “Let’s just walk.”

The rest of that afternoon is kind of a blur. All the flashing neon lights, the smell of popcorn, and cotton candy, the hum of people screaming on the rides, I know they all existed, but all I can remember is how soft her hand felt compared to mine.

We got to her friend’s beach house just before dark. Maddie grabbed a couple of towels from the house, and we picked out a spot on the shore with a good view of the pier they were going to shoot the fireworks from.

“What’s your hometown like?”

“Not like this, that’s for sure.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“It’s only got one red light for starters.”

She laughed. “What do you do for fun?”

“Play ball, mostly.”

“What kind of ball?”

“Baseball. Football. That’s why I’ve got to leave in a couple of weeks, fall practice is about to start.”

“Oh.”

When the first bottle rocket exploded, we both nearly jumped out of our skin. Maddie scooted right up beside me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

I kept looking down at her, stealing little glances because I liked the way the fireworks shined in her eyes.

Then she caught me.

She moved closer and I could feel her warm breath on my lips.

I put my hand on her back and pulled her close, waiting for her to blink.

But she didn’t.

And neither did I.

I pushed a small strand of hair out of her face and I went for it.

Her lips were soft and warm.

Above us the sky was on fire.

I pulled away long enough to see the reflection in her eyes.

She put both of her hands on the back of my head and pulled me back to her lips.

I honestly couldn’t tell you if the booms were from the fireworks or my heart about to beat out of my chest.

She looked up at me, smiled and whispered, “Not bad, Bama,” then put her head on my shoulder.

To this day, I still remember the way her eyes looked just before she closed them and our lips touched.

It’s a strange thing, really, the way a boy feels after his first real kiss. How your mind goes from nothing to everything, trying to keep pace with your heartbeat. How you can be on top of the world and at the same time feel like you just did something you weren’t supposed to and got away with it. It’s weird. Weird but wonderful.

When the fireworks ended, we sat quietly in the dark for a while.

“Want to go for a walk?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We walked along the water’s edge toward the lights of the distant pier. Not too far offshore, we could see the lightning from an approaching thunderstorm.

“We better not go too far.” I said.

Maddie jumped on my back when she stepped on something that freaked her out and made me carry her piggyback the rest of the way.

“It was probably just seaweed.”

“What you know about seaweed, Bama?”

“I know if you don’t change that tone, I’m gonna drop you in the water.”

I pretended like I was going to drop her and she squealed.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Or what?”

She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Or I’ll never kiss you again.”

“I thought I kissed you.”

“Oh? Is that what you thought?”

She rested her chin on my shoulder and pressed her cheek gently against mine as I walked us back toward the beach house.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon.”

“Me too.”

“Will you miss me?”

“Of course I will.”

“You better.”

“There you two are.” Jamie yelled from the dark. “You have any idea what time it is?”

“No.”

“It’s 2:30 in the morning.”

“Are you serious?”

“We’ve got to get back to Charleston before my mom wakes up.”

I squatted until Maddie’s feet could reach the sand.

“I’m sorry. I’ve really got to go.”

“I understand. I’ll see you in a couple of days when I get back.”

Just as Jamie and I were backing out of the driveway, Maddie darted in front of the headlights.

“Bama, wait.”

Jamie slammed on the brakes. Maddie leaned in through the passenger window and kissed me one more time on the lips.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

As I watched the beach house disappear in the side mirror, I could feel Jamie looking at me.

“What?”

“Bama, you old dog you.”

The night before I left, Jamie threw me a going away party on the beach on Sullivan’s Island. He and some of his friends built a bonfire. I can still hear the whooshing of the flames as they danced on the sea’s breeze.

Maddie and some of her friends came. I remember how bright that hot pink bikini was compared to her sun-kissed skin.

We spent most of the night goofing around. I’d put her on my shoulders, Jamie would put one of her friends on his and we would chicken fight in the water.

Every now and then, my eyes would meet Maddie’s and we’d smile at each other, pretending tomorrow wasn’t coming.

When the music got louder and everyone got a little rowdier, Maddie and I managed to slip off without anyone noticing.

“Will you lay down and look at the moon with me?” She asked.

“Of course.”

Maddie laid her head on my chest. Thirty-one years later, I can still remember the smell of salt in her hair and how cool it felt against my skin.

“Mama says I can’t call you too much, because of long distance.” She said.

“That’s ok. We can write.”

“Every day?”

“Every day.”

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt the tears roll off her cheek onto my chest. I rubbed her hair until the crying finally slowed and we lay there, listening to the waves, knowing neither of us wanted morning to come.

Summer was over, and so were we.