Free Little Altars Everywhere by Rebecca Wells Page B

lands, it’s so pure it floats like on TV. Then Mama gets her famous idea of swinging off the rope swing! Neciestays with the little ones, but all the rest of us climb up on the bank. We get on the rope, two at a time, and swing out buck naked and drop down into the water, yelling Aiiieeeee! As long as I’m careful not to get rope-burned, it’s exactly like flying. Landing in that water when it’s not quite dark yet, just lingering summer light on our bodies and the water and the trees and the crickets and us. It only lasts for a little while because darkness comes, but it feels like it lasts forever.
    Then we’re back on the bank and the ladies are drying our hair and we’re all whining, I’m hungry! I’m starving, Mama! And the Ya-Yas say, We’ll be home in a minute—don’t worry, we’ll get something in your stomach in five minutes.
    And would you believe it?! A car with a red bubble light on top pulls up and shines its headlights on us like we’re deer in the middle of the road or something! All the ladies scramble to wrap towels around themselves or throw on their swimsuit cover-ups. Mama is reaching for her striped terrycloth one with the hood. And this short fat sheriff gets out of the car and says: What the hell is going on here?
    Oh Lord, Mama says, some Baptists must’ve called and told on us! And the Ya-Yas all start giggling.
    Little Shep can’t believe an actual sheriff is standing there, and he just walks straight up to the man and touches his gun. The sheriff says, Get your hands away from that, son! That’s no toy! That’s a real man’s firearm.
    I know, Little Shep says, lying through his teeth, My daddy’s got ten of them. (Which is not true. Daddy doesn’t have pistols like that, only shotguns.)
    Mama says, Little Shep, come back over here. The sheriff looks at Mama and says, Well, I should have known: Vivi Abbott and the gang. As if yall weren’t trashy enough when yall came out here as teenagers, ruining this place with all your carrying-on! Now yall come out here with your innocent little children and expose them to your pervert behavior. I should run yall in on a morals charge.
    All the ladies are covered up by now, and I think for a minute that things are going to get bad. And that sheriff is rocking on his heels like he is the King of the Universe.
    Then Caro says, Sheriff Modine, I do believe you have put on weight.
    Then the Ya-Yas really lose it. They start laughing and they can’t stop. The headlights of the patrol car are shining on the Ya-Yas’ painted toenails and their wet hair. When I look up, they look like mermaids. How dare this man come and do this to Mama and her friends?
    I go over to the sheriff and kick him in the leg. Leave us alone, you chubby! I tell him.
    He grabs for me, but Mama comes and pulls me back, still laughing and says: Bay, it’s okay, honey, really. And she picks me up, even though I’m too big to be carried. And the ladies are just howling. Theygather us all up and ignore that fat sheriff and they lead us over to the T-Bird and Necie’s station wagon and start piling us in.
    The sheriff is yelling out at us, I don’t care who your families are! You’re not in Thornton now! You’re in Spring Creek! We don’t act like heathens here. Women like yall shouldn’t be allowed to have children!
    Once we’re in the car, Mama floors it. Necie and Caro are right on our tail, and Mama lays on the horn and blows it all the way out from the creek and halfway down the road. We’re all crooking our necks to see if Sheriff Modine is following us—and he does part of the way. But by the time we reach our turn-off, he keeps on going straight, and then we all start hooting and hollering. Awright! we yell, yaaaay us!
    Back at the camp, the Ya-Yas tell us, Now yall go get your pajamas on.
    All of us head in and start pulling pajamas out of the chest and putting them on. My skin is all wrinkled from being in the water so long and my fingernails are