Free Spud by Patricia Orvis Page B

show us yer stuff!”
    Another teases, “Her in a swimsuit…eeewww! The wrinkles!”
    How mean. I hope she does call the cops. I keep watching. One boy is chasing the
girls around and around, and it’s getting muddy. They’re going to start slipping
and someone will likely get hurt. These are kids I haven’t seen before, so they must
have been smart enough to choose a hydrant that was away from where they lived so
their parents couldn’t yell at them.
    “Ahhh!” One boy shouts, as he has slipped into the hydrant, toes first. “My fricking
toe!”
    “Come on, sissy. Get up,” another says, plopping the boy gently across his wet head
of black hair, but the injured boy scoots back out of the way, rubbing his foot.
    “Damn!” the mouthy girl says, starting to redo her brown, wet ponytail. “The cops.”
    Down the dusty road there is a cop car, just turned onto the street. Thank you, Helen.
We can usually count on her to get the cops out here when there’s something going
bad. She seems to have eyes everywhere. People tease that she has cameras in her
yard. Who knows? But the way she seems to always take care of any disturbances, I
tell you. We think she has one of those cop radars pointed out her front window and
knows all speeding cars. She also is thought to have eyes in the back of her head,
for real, and sometimes we even tease she might be a spy. For whom or what? I don’t
know, but it makes good conversation.
    However, my parents get along real well with her and Kenny, her husband. In fact,
they’ve been like grandparents to me and Zoë since I can remember. Taking pictures
of us on Halloween and in front of Helen’s Easter egg tree every Easter Sunday. Surprising
us with little gifts here and there. Baking banana nut bread. Hugs and small talk.
Kind of nice. I like them, usually. Plus, Ma often has coffee or tea with Helen,
to be nice, give her some company, and I think Helen comes across sort of like a
mom to my mom. Especially since my grandma died when I was in second grade, and Ma
misses her family for sure, as all of them are still in South Carolina.
    Then, Helen and Kenny have no family around here, as all their kids are grown and
live far away, though some rumors say the kids hated how picky and strict Helen and
Kenny were and wanted to get as far away as possible. Honestly though, all people,
even Helen and Kenny, still need caring, closeness, and friends, right? I’m glad
my parents get along with them instead of cause any problems like some adults do
around here just to make Helen and Kenny mad. Plus, Helen makes the best fudge ever
and gives us a yummy plate every Christmas. She’s not so bad, if you’re on her good
side. I guess Ma and Dad know that’s important in this small town. Keep things civil and nice, and don’t cause trouble, and life will be much easier.
    Now, three of the water-hydrant-delinquent boys quickly hop onto bikes, scream “Hell,
no,” and “Damn,” and “Let’s beat it,” and the others remain. The cop approaches but
hasn’t gotten out of his car. Through the window, I can barely make him out, but
I can at least tell it’s not Mike’s dad. Thank God. I don’t want to see anyone in
that family, but this cop probably doesn’t want to get wet. I’m not sure what he’s
saying, but the kids look pretty damn scared. He’s likely threatening them, because
the city’s gonna have to get that thing stopped somehow. It’s a bit serious.
    The kids start running from him, truly afraid of the mess they have caused, but it’s
no use. In this small town, the cop will follow and get to the parents and take care
of it. They’ve cut through a yard to the next street over, and the officer turns
the squad car around and follows. Well, not through the yard, but you get the drift.
Then, as he leaves the road, a fire truck approaches, so it can deal with the hydrant
correctly, I assume.
    Well, that was a nice diversion from my thoughts. For real, the kids just want to
cool