[fic] Dog Days of Summer
title: Dog Days of Summer
characters: Ellie & Charlie
word count: 2109
author's note: Prompt was Cotton for week 3 of September's brigits_flame contest. It was a really strange prompt.
The heat was so bad that Ellie's mother didn't feel like driving her to the town pool, and bad enough that all three of them -- Ellie, her mother, and her father -- sat in front of the one air conditioner in the house, cross-legged and silent. Their faces dripped sweat.
"This is the worst," Ellie complained, face flushed with heat.
"Hush," said her mother sternly. "You're filling up the room with hot air."
Ellie's face crumpled into a scowl. "But--"
"If you're not quiet, Ellie, you can go to your room."
Ellie's room was on the second floor and it was like a refrigerator that had broken and had caused all the food inside it to rot. It smelled like one too. It still made her want to puke. She snapped her mouth shut.
It really was the worst. It was the last Saturday before fourth grade began, and Ellie wanted to do something fun, something really impressive and adventurous. Then when they had to write their essays about what they did over vacation, she would have the best story, and everyone would love it. Over the past few nights she'd had this fantasy where she came to school all scuffed up and dangerous looking, her yellow hair streaked with dirt, and everyone would stand around her and ask about her exploits. And she'd say, I fought an alligator on Saturday. It won't be botherin' anyone no more.
The doorbell rang. Ellie's father said, "I'm not getting it."
Ellie hoisted herself up. Moving out of the air conditioning felt a little like falling in a firepit. She opened the door. "What?" she said rudely.
"Don't be rude, Ellie," said her mother wearily.
"It's just Charlie."
"Oh," said Ellie's mother, and lost interest quickly. "Shut the door. We're losing the cool air."
Ellie stepped outside. "It's really hot," she said.
"Yeah," said Charlie. "I know." His bright red hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat. His freckles seemed to blur together.
"Like really hot."
"Wanna do something cool?"
Ellie wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Like what?"
"We could go exploring."
"It's too--"
"At the quarry."
Ellie stopped short. She said, "Really?"
They weren't allowed to go to the quarry. There were apparently a lot of reasons for this. Her mother said it was private property and that they couldn't, but Ellie was pretty sure that wasn't true. Her father said it was too dangerous and the water wasn't good to swim in, and Charlie's older brother once told them he'd found a nest of cottonmouths there a few months back. Ellie hadn't ever seen one before and her inner fantasy turned into her holding up a big snakeskin on the first day of class. Oh, yeah, she'd say nonchalantly, it tried to bite me but I whacked it so hard it shot straight out of its skin.
"Lemme get my shoes on," she said.
She didn't bother with a bathing suit. She called to her mom, "Me'n Charlie are going to the baseball field."
"Charlie and I," corrected her mother, who hadn't moved from her spot in front of the air conditioner. She had her eyes closed, and was fanning herself with a copy of Better Homes and Gardens. "And be back in time for dinner."
--
The walk to the quarry was a long one. They had to go past the school, past the baseball field, past the old abandoned house that Charlie's brother swore was haunted. But it was too hot to spend that much time in the direct sunlight, and Charlie suggested a shortcut.
"Through Jackson Swamp," said Charlie.
Jackson Swamp used to be a farm, or at least that's what Ellie's grandpa told her. She wasn't sure how it got to be a swamp, or why it had stopped being a farm, or what the farm had grown in the first place, but it smelled pretty bad and when you walked on certain parts of it, you'd sink down to your ankles if you weren't careful.
"It'll stink even more today," said Ellie.
"So?" Charlie kicked a pebble down the street, towards a trash can that was still upright from that morning's collection. He missed by about six feet. "The quicker we get there, the quicker we swim. And then we'll be nice an' cool while everyone else is sweating balls."
Charlie got that expression from his brother. Every few months he'd pick one up, use it as often as he could, and then get tired of it and move onto a new one. Ellie had started keeping tabs. So far he'd used this one twelve times in the past three days. And Ellie'd only seen him for two hours at a time.
"I don't know," said Ellie.
"Scared?"
She bristled, hands at her hips, dark eyes flashing. "Shut up, Charlie," she said, and marched into the swamp.
It did smell worse. Like a lot of things had died and were all starting to decompose at the same time. The heat and the smell put together made Ellie feel lightheaded, and she decided to breathe strategically, counting how many seconds she could hold her breath before she almost passed out, then sucking in a big gulp of rotten, warm air and doing it all over again. Charlie was holding his nose, and instead of pushing away foliage would simply duck beneath it. He was shorter than she was, and Ellie kept getting hit in the eye by random branches.
"How much further?" she asked after twenty-something minutes.
Charlie stopped, fingers pinching his nostrils shut. "I think--" he paused. "No, that's wrong."
"We're not lost," said Ellie.
"I think we just go, you know. To the left?"
"I don't think so," she said, eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm pretty sure we just go straight."
"It's got to be to the left," said Charlie.
"No way," said Ellie.
"Well, it's not straight, either," said Charlie. "That's towards that old barn."
"It is too straight!"
"Not!"
"Is too!" Ellie gave Charlie a shove and he gave it right back. She stumbled over a log, falling backwards onto her tailbone. "Great," she snapped. "Now my butt's all dirty and my mom's going to know that we didn't go to the field."
"Well, you shoulda told her something else," said Charlie. He was examining a tear in his tee-shirt from a thorn. "My shirt's gotta hole in it. My mom just got this shirt."
"Who cares?' said Ellie. "It's just a tiny hole; I can't even see it. Help me up." She held out a skinny arm, glaring at him imperiously. "I think my butt's sinking in."
"If you hadn't pushed me maybe you wouldn't be sinking," said Charlie, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. "Get up yourself."
"Help me up," she said. "The sooner I get up, the sooner we can go to the quarry." She flapped her arm. "Come on."
But Charlie had frozen on the spot, his mouth open wide. He looked like someone had just pressed the pause button, like how sometimes when you watch a movie the person's face gets frozen mid-frame. Except nobody had paused Charlie, and Ellie said, "It's not funny."
Charlie lifted a hand, slowly, and whispered, "Ellie, move."
"I'm trying to," she said. "I told you."
"I mean--" Charlie backed away instead of moving towards her. "There's a--" and suddenly, Ellie saw it out of the corner of her eye; moving slowly towards her, uncoiling itself from what she'd thought was a bump on a log. It was moving between them, and it was huge. She'd never seen a cottonmouth that big, and the only snake she'd ever seen bigger was a python at a zoo, and she felt as though her heart had suddenly stopped pumping blood.
"Charlie," said Ellie, and her voice was more like a mosquito's whine. "Charlie, what do I do?"
"I--" He remained frozen on the spot. The snake was inching closer to her.
"Get a stick," she said. "Or -- or something -- or -- Charlie help me up help me up help me up--"
There was a rock by her hand and she picked it up slowly, then lobbed it as hard as she could at the snake. It barely missed, hitting the log instead, and the cottonmouth opened it's jaws -- white; her mother had always warned her about the white mouth, the sharp, venemous fangs -- and Ellie, in absolute terror, kicked out, her muddy sneaker narrowly missing the snake's head, her butt coming clear of the mud with a loud squelching sound, and scrabbled backwards like a terrified crab. "Get it, get it, get it!" she shouted, and Charlie finally remembered where he was and who he was, grabbing a stick and smacking the snake with all his might.
The snake hissed, swinging its jaws around, and lunged -- but Ellie was running and running, and she could hear Charlie saying something in the background but her heart was beating hard and fast and she couldn't hear anything clearly for the rushing in her eardrums. She ran for what felt like miles until her lungs seared and she had to bend over, palms flat on her knees, to catch her breath.
"Charlie?" she asked breathlessly.
There were only bird calls.
"Charlie?" she called again, this time louder.
Still nothing.
"I'm sorry!" Ellie shouted, almost hysterical. "You were right, we should've gone to the right! I shouldn't have pushed you! Charlie?!" She sat down on a rock, putting her head in her hands. What if the snake had got him? What if he was lying somewhere in pain? What if he was dead? She gasped in great quantities of air, trying to keep herself from crying, but a few big, fat tears plopped down, leaving clean tracks in the layer of dirt caking her face. "Charlie," she said in a wavering voice. "I should've stayed, I should've made sure you were okay, please don't die."
There was a hissing and Ellie froze. "Charlie?"
The hissing kept going, and she looked down at her feet and saw nothing. The hissing grew louder and then suddenly something long and sinuous lunged at her and she screamed, jumping up from the rock, trying to get it off her and then she heard a burst of bright laughter. She opened her eyes. Charlie had his hands around his sides, and was laughing so hard she thought he might explode at the seams.
"Gotcha," he said, and Ellie looked down and saw a slimy length of rope instead of a cottonmouth.
"You," she snarled, hitting him on his shoulder and his chest and the top of his head. "I hate you!"
"Not scared, huh?"
Ellie just glared.
--
They walked in silence for some time. Charlie rubbed his ear, where she'd hit him so many times she thought (smugly) that it might fall off. "You know where we're going?" he asked hesitantly.
"I think it's just a little farther," said Ellie.
She'd said that three times already, but Charlie wasn't about to argue, and after a few more minutes, the swamp opened up into a forest, where they were finally on solid ground again. Ellie had to admit she preferred it.
"Look," said Charlie. The quarry was up ahead, and they knew because there was a sign. They'd never seen the quarry before; only heard stories, and with satisfied whoops, Charlie and Ellie raced toward it, Charlie stripping clothes as he went.
They reached the edge and looked down. Their faces fell. "So," said Ellie, forehead wrinkled in confusion. "This is ... the quarry."
"Yeah," said Charlie.
"I thought, you know," said Ellie. "That there would be more..."
"Water in it," finished Charlie. "Yeah." He eyed the very empty bottom of the quarry, which looked a lot more like a canyon than a lake. A really tiny canyon. "Me too."
"Aren't quarries supposed to have water in them?"
"That's what always happens in movies," said Charlie.
"Yeah," said Ellie.
They stood there for a long moment. Charlie put his shirt back on.
"So," said Ellie.
"So," said Charlie.
"Wanna come to my house for dinner? We can sit in front of the air conditioner."
Charlie thought about it. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds good." They stood at the edge of the quarry for a few minutes longer, and then turned around, and walked away from the swamp and away from the quarry without water.
"You know how to get home?" Charlie asked.
"No idea," said Ellie. "We'll figure it out."
characters: Ellie & Charlie
word count: 2109
author's note: Prompt was Cotton for week 3 of September's brigits_flame contest. It was a really strange prompt.
The heat was so bad that Ellie's mother didn't feel like driving her to the town pool, and bad enough that all three of them -- Ellie, her mother, and her father -- sat in front of the one air conditioner in the house, cross-legged and silent. Their faces dripped sweat.
"This is the worst," Ellie complained, face flushed with heat.
"Hush," said her mother sternly. "You're filling up the room with hot air."
Ellie's face crumpled into a scowl. "But--"
"If you're not quiet, Ellie, you can go to your room."
Ellie's room was on the second floor and it was like a refrigerator that had broken and had caused all the food inside it to rot. It smelled like one too. It still made her want to puke. She snapped her mouth shut.
It really was the worst. It was the last Saturday before fourth grade began, and Ellie wanted to do something fun, something really impressive and adventurous. Then when they had to write their essays about what they did over vacation, she would have the best story, and everyone would love it. Over the past few nights she'd had this fantasy where she came to school all scuffed up and dangerous looking, her yellow hair streaked with dirt, and everyone would stand around her and ask about her exploits. And she'd say, I fought an alligator on Saturday. It won't be botherin' anyone no more.
The doorbell rang. Ellie's father said, "I'm not getting it."
Ellie hoisted herself up. Moving out of the air conditioning felt a little like falling in a firepit. She opened the door. "What?" she said rudely.
"Don't be rude, Ellie," said her mother wearily.
"It's just Charlie."
"Oh," said Ellie's mother, and lost interest quickly. "Shut the door. We're losing the cool air."
Ellie stepped outside. "It's really hot," she said.
"Yeah," said Charlie. "I know." His bright red hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat. His freckles seemed to blur together.
"Like really hot."
"Wanna do something cool?"
Ellie wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Like what?"
"We could go exploring."
"It's too--"
"At the quarry."
Ellie stopped short. She said, "Really?"
They weren't allowed to go to the quarry. There were apparently a lot of reasons for this. Her mother said it was private property and that they couldn't, but Ellie was pretty sure that wasn't true. Her father said it was too dangerous and the water wasn't good to swim in, and Charlie's older brother once told them he'd found a nest of cottonmouths there a few months back. Ellie hadn't ever seen one before and her inner fantasy turned into her holding up a big snakeskin on the first day of class. Oh, yeah, she'd say nonchalantly, it tried to bite me but I whacked it so hard it shot straight out of its skin.
"Lemme get my shoes on," she said.
She didn't bother with a bathing suit. She called to her mom, "Me'n Charlie are going to the baseball field."
"Charlie and I," corrected her mother, who hadn't moved from her spot in front of the air conditioner. She had her eyes closed, and was fanning herself with a copy of Better Homes and Gardens. "And be back in time for dinner."
--
The walk to the quarry was a long one. They had to go past the school, past the baseball field, past the old abandoned house that Charlie's brother swore was haunted. But it was too hot to spend that much time in the direct sunlight, and Charlie suggested a shortcut.
"Through Jackson Swamp," said Charlie.
Jackson Swamp used to be a farm, or at least that's what Ellie's grandpa told her. She wasn't sure how it got to be a swamp, or why it had stopped being a farm, or what the farm had grown in the first place, but it smelled pretty bad and when you walked on certain parts of it, you'd sink down to your ankles if you weren't careful.
"It'll stink even more today," said Ellie.
"So?" Charlie kicked a pebble down the street, towards a trash can that was still upright from that morning's collection. He missed by about six feet. "The quicker we get there, the quicker we swim. And then we'll be nice an' cool while everyone else is sweating balls."
Charlie got that expression from his brother. Every few months he'd pick one up, use it as often as he could, and then get tired of it and move onto a new one. Ellie had started keeping tabs. So far he'd used this one twelve times in the past three days. And Ellie'd only seen him for two hours at a time.
"I don't know," said Ellie.
"Scared?"
She bristled, hands at her hips, dark eyes flashing. "Shut up, Charlie," she said, and marched into the swamp.
It did smell worse. Like a lot of things had died and were all starting to decompose at the same time. The heat and the smell put together made Ellie feel lightheaded, and she decided to breathe strategically, counting how many seconds she could hold her breath before she almost passed out, then sucking in a big gulp of rotten, warm air and doing it all over again. Charlie was holding his nose, and instead of pushing away foliage would simply duck beneath it. He was shorter than she was, and Ellie kept getting hit in the eye by random branches.
"How much further?" she asked after twenty-something minutes.
Charlie stopped, fingers pinching his nostrils shut. "I think--" he paused. "No, that's wrong."
"We're not lost," said Ellie.
"I think we just go, you know. To the left?"
"I don't think so," she said, eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm pretty sure we just go straight."
"It's got to be to the left," said Charlie.
"No way," said Ellie.
"Well, it's not straight, either," said Charlie. "That's towards that old barn."
"It is too straight!"
"Not!"
"Is too!" Ellie gave Charlie a shove and he gave it right back. She stumbled over a log, falling backwards onto her tailbone. "Great," she snapped. "Now my butt's all dirty and my mom's going to know that we didn't go to the field."
"Well, you shoulda told her something else," said Charlie. He was examining a tear in his tee-shirt from a thorn. "My shirt's gotta hole in it. My mom just got this shirt."
"Who cares?' said Ellie. "It's just a tiny hole; I can't even see it. Help me up." She held out a skinny arm, glaring at him imperiously. "I think my butt's sinking in."
"If you hadn't pushed me maybe you wouldn't be sinking," said Charlie, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. "Get up yourself."
"Help me up," she said. "The sooner I get up, the sooner we can go to the quarry." She flapped her arm. "Come on."
But Charlie had frozen on the spot, his mouth open wide. He looked like someone had just pressed the pause button, like how sometimes when you watch a movie the person's face gets frozen mid-frame. Except nobody had paused Charlie, and Ellie said, "It's not funny."
Charlie lifted a hand, slowly, and whispered, "Ellie, move."
"I'm trying to," she said. "I told you."
"I mean--" Charlie backed away instead of moving towards her. "There's a--" and suddenly, Ellie saw it out of the corner of her eye; moving slowly towards her, uncoiling itself from what she'd thought was a bump on a log. It was moving between them, and it was huge. She'd never seen a cottonmouth that big, and the only snake she'd ever seen bigger was a python at a zoo, and she felt as though her heart had suddenly stopped pumping blood.
"Charlie," said Ellie, and her voice was more like a mosquito's whine. "Charlie, what do I do?"
"I--" He remained frozen on the spot. The snake was inching closer to her.
"Get a stick," she said. "Or -- or something -- or -- Charlie help me up help me up help me up--"
There was a rock by her hand and she picked it up slowly, then lobbed it as hard as she could at the snake. It barely missed, hitting the log instead, and the cottonmouth opened it's jaws -- white; her mother had always warned her about the white mouth, the sharp, venemous fangs -- and Ellie, in absolute terror, kicked out, her muddy sneaker narrowly missing the snake's head, her butt coming clear of the mud with a loud squelching sound, and scrabbled backwards like a terrified crab. "Get it, get it, get it!" she shouted, and Charlie finally remembered where he was and who he was, grabbing a stick and smacking the snake with all his might.
The snake hissed, swinging its jaws around, and lunged -- but Ellie was running and running, and she could hear Charlie saying something in the background but her heart was beating hard and fast and she couldn't hear anything clearly for the rushing in her eardrums. She ran for what felt like miles until her lungs seared and she had to bend over, palms flat on her knees, to catch her breath.
"Charlie?" she asked breathlessly.
There were only bird calls.
"Charlie?" she called again, this time louder.
Still nothing.
"I'm sorry!" Ellie shouted, almost hysterical. "You were right, we should've gone to the right! I shouldn't have pushed you! Charlie?!" She sat down on a rock, putting her head in her hands. What if the snake had got him? What if he was lying somewhere in pain? What if he was dead? She gasped in great quantities of air, trying to keep herself from crying, but a few big, fat tears plopped down, leaving clean tracks in the layer of dirt caking her face. "Charlie," she said in a wavering voice. "I should've stayed, I should've made sure you were okay, please don't die."
There was a hissing and Ellie froze. "Charlie?"
The hissing kept going, and she looked down at her feet and saw nothing. The hissing grew louder and then suddenly something long and sinuous lunged at her and she screamed, jumping up from the rock, trying to get it off her and then she heard a burst of bright laughter. She opened her eyes. Charlie had his hands around his sides, and was laughing so hard she thought he might explode at the seams.
"Gotcha," he said, and Ellie looked down and saw a slimy length of rope instead of a cottonmouth.
"You," she snarled, hitting him on his shoulder and his chest and the top of his head. "I hate you!"
"Not scared, huh?"
Ellie just glared.
--
They walked in silence for some time. Charlie rubbed his ear, where she'd hit him so many times she thought (smugly) that it might fall off. "You know where we're going?" he asked hesitantly.
"I think it's just a little farther," said Ellie.
She'd said that three times already, but Charlie wasn't about to argue, and after a few more minutes, the swamp opened up into a forest, where they were finally on solid ground again. Ellie had to admit she preferred it.
"Look," said Charlie. The quarry was up ahead, and they knew because there was a sign. They'd never seen the quarry before; only heard stories, and with satisfied whoops, Charlie and Ellie raced toward it, Charlie stripping clothes as he went.
They reached the edge and looked down. Their faces fell. "So," said Ellie, forehead wrinkled in confusion. "This is ... the quarry."
"Yeah," said Charlie.
"I thought, you know," said Ellie. "That there would be more..."
"Water in it," finished Charlie. "Yeah." He eyed the very empty bottom of the quarry, which looked a lot more like a canyon than a lake. A really tiny canyon. "Me too."
"Aren't quarries supposed to have water in them?"
"That's what always happens in movies," said Charlie.
"Yeah," said Ellie.
They stood there for a long moment. Charlie put his shirt back on.
"So," said Ellie.
"So," said Charlie.
"Wanna come to my house for dinner? We can sit in front of the air conditioner."
Charlie thought about it. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds good." They stood at the edge of the quarry for a few minutes longer, and then turned around, and walked away from the swamp and away from the quarry without water.
"You know how to get home?" Charlie asked.
"No idea," said Ellie. "We'll figure it out."