A Fourth to Remember

Author's Note: The following is a work of fiction and a stand-alone story. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over the age of eighteen. This story is set in 1976. One of my goals in writing it was to celebrate the time period as well as so many of the things I love about summer. Enjoy!

***

I pull into the long dirt driveway. My heart sinks.

My luck can't be this bad. It can't.

Tom's car's gone. His dad's truck, too. But his mom's Impala is out front. Maybe she's home. Yeah. Tom mighta left a note. You never know.

I knock on the front door. No answer. I knock again. Same result.

"Fuck," I mutter.

What to do? Try and find the lake? All Tom said was it's somewhere up around Hawk Mountain. Yeah, good luck finding it. I'll be driving around all night.

I had a real shot with Kimberly tonight, too. No longer. Now I'm stuck all alone. Some Fourth of July.

I head back to my Chevelle. It's quiet out here in the middle of nowhere. The only sounds are the breeze wafting through the trees and the crunch of my shoes on the crushed gravel.

I freeze.

There's something else. Barely audible. A drum beat. Repeating itself, growing louder. A guitar joins.

Susie Q.

The first song on the "Chronicle" album. It came out on my birthday back in January and I bought it that day. I've listened to it a hundred times since.

Someone's put on the same record. But who? Tom's mother is more Lawrence Welk than Creedence Clearwater Revival.

"Hello?" I call out.

I walk around the side of the house. There's the pool and the detached garage around back at the base of the thickly-wooded hillside. One of the doors is open, a kettle grill in front of it. The air above the grill is wavy with heat.

A blue Volkswagen van is parked next to the grill.

The plot thickens.

I approach. The music is coming from inside the garage, no doubt. And the VW has California plates. That's strange. There's only one person I know who lives out there.

"Hello?" I say again.

A woman steps out of the garage. "Hello."

I stop in my tracks.

What a goddess.

She stares at me for a moment before speaking. "Let me guess. Looking for Tom?"

Recognition kicks in.

Tom's older sister Susan. That explains the California plates.

Tom hadn't mentioned she was in town. What's it been, four years? Man, the crush I had on her. She hasn't changed at all, either. The same fair, clear skin and pretty features. Bright green eyes behind oversized glasses. Long and wavy Farrah Fawcett blonde hair.

She's wearing a navy blue v-neck shirt and tight jeans. A red bandana is tied over the top of her head. The clothes fit her well, showing off her slender but athletic figure. Tits on the larger side for her build, too.

Well, hello.

"Susan?"

She looks me up and down. An enigmatic smirk is on her lips. As if she's trying to decide something. "Do I know you?"

"It's Tom's friend. Michael."

"Holy crap, little Mikey! Look at you, all grown up and stuff. You were just a little squirt last time I saw you. Now, jeez, you're so damn tall."

"That tends to happen."

That tends to happen? That's the best I can do? What a dork

.

"Tom went with a bunch of people to some lake for an all-night bonfire party thing," Susan says.

"I was supposed to go with them," I say.

Susan shrugs. "That's too bad."

"I got stuck at work. I don't suppose he left a note or something?"

Susan looks me up and down again. She pauses, raising an eyebrow, then shakes her head. "A note? No, he didn't say anything about a note. I take it you've no idea where this lake is?"

"Not a clue. There's supposed to be fireworks nearby."

Susan brushes a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "That might've been helpful information literally any other day of the year."

I laugh. "Yeah."

"Sorry your plans fell through," she says. "So did mine."

Our eyes meet. For a moment, there's a spark of something between us. No, can't be. She's way out of my league.

"What were your plans?" I ask.

"Hanging around here with a couple of girlfriends from high school. Eating burgers and smoking weed. Ringing in America's two-hundredth birthday the right way."

"It didn't pan out?" I say.

"They got invited to a barbecue hosted by some bitch who hates me," Susan says. "Took the weed with them. So here I am, all alone. Happy Bicentennial to me."

"We're kinda in the same boat, aren't we?" I say.

"I was gonna cook up a burger. Stay and have one with me."

"Sure. That sounds good."

I follow her into the garage, checking out the way her jeans cling to her ass. I feel a sudden rush of arousal.

Damn.

There's a fridge against the back wall alongside a record player. I spot the album cover laying beside it.

"Chronicles: The 20 Greatest Hits." Knew it.

Susan opens the fridge. "Feel like a cold one?"

"Yeah, sure."

She grabs out a couple of lagers. She starts to hand me one, pausing. "You're eighteen, right?"

"Since January."

She hands me one. "Practically an old man."

We twist off the caps and take a sip. Nothing like cold beer on a hot day.

"You know something?" Susan says. "You can't get Yuengling out west."

"I think I heard that."

"It's one of the few things I miss around here," she says. "I'll be taking a few cases back to LA."

"You drove all the way from California, huh?"

She shrugs. "I didn't mind. Driving gives me time to think."

"Thinking's good."

I wince.

Thinking's good? God, what an imbecile.

Whatever. Knock off trying to flirt. It's not like this is that sort of situation. The evening was supposed to be about getting laid. Kimberly was going to be at the lake and I thought it might happen tonight. At last.

Yeah, guess not. I'll be heading to college next month a virgin, won't I?

***

We stand in front of the grill. Two burgers and two ears of corn sizzle in front of us. CCR plays behind us. "Proud Mary" followed by "Bad Moon Rising."

What a kickass album.

I fill in Susan on the goings-on in town as we drink our lagers. The blizzard back in February. The mayor's arrest for public indecency in Pottsville. Reverend Glasser leaving his wife for her younger sister.

Susan shakes her head, flipping the burgers. "This place! I'm not surprised, not by any of it."

My eyes drift down to her magnificent cans. I linger too long and think for a second I've been caught. Susan smirks, breathing in. Sticking them out. Daring me to stare.

No. I'm imagining things.

"Nothing finer, huh?" she says.

"What's that?"

"As I was saying before you zoned out," she says. "There's nothing finer than a couple of burgers on the grill, cold beer, and good tunes. Am I right?"

"Happy birthday, America," I say.

We clink bottles.

"You must be used to fancier food than this in Los Angeles," I say. "Chic restaurants and all. Pictures of the movie stars who've eaten there covering the walls."

"There's those places, sure, but what I like is how they've got more variety than around here. Mexican food. Japanese."

"Japanese? What's that like?" I ask.

"Incredible," Susan says. "There's this place called Kawafuku, in Little Tokyo. They serve sushi."

"Sushi? Isn't that raw fish?"

She sips her lager. "You ain't lived until you've bitten into a piece of white tuna sashimi. The way it feels on your lips. How it melts in your mouth. So sensual."

"I'll have to take your word for it," I say.

She shrugs. "You'll change your mind someday. Trying new things is good. You never know what you might discover if you're open-minded."

Our eyes meet again. A shiver goes down my back. "If I ever have the chance to try it, I will."

"Wait and see. Sushi will be everywhere in a few years. All fifty states."

"I don't know about that," I say.

She looks at the grill, smiling. "I like exotic food, sure, but sometimes burgers and grilled corn on the cob are all I crave. Well, almost all. I've got plenty of other cravings. All sorts of them."

I drain the last of my lager. "Yeah, burgers are great."

Susan rolls her eyes, a flash of annoyance in them. She finishes her lager and hands me the bottle. "Toss them in the trash and grab two more out of the fridge."

I nod. How'd I upset her? "Okay."

I grab a pair of lagers out of the fridge and hand her one. Susan sprinkles salt and pepper on the burgers then adds cheddar slices atop them. We sip our drinks, watching the cheese melt.

Susan stares at them. Nodding. "They're ready."

She transfers the burgers onto buns. She tops them with lettuce, tomato, and onion. A smear of mayonnaise, too.

"California cheeseburgers," I say. "Of course."

"Except in California we add sliced avocado." Susan shrugs. "But good luck getting avocados at the Food Fair."

I don't mention how I've never tried avocado. "Yeah, right."

Susan seasons the corn with salt and pepper, basting them with melted butter. She removes them from the grill and places them on the paper plates next to the burgers.

"Let's eat," she says.

We sit on folding chairs in front of the garage out of the sun. "Green River" starts behind us.

Had I imagined dinner with a beautiful woman tonight, this isn't what I'd have pictured. Now that it's happening, though, I wouldn't change a thing. Except maybe Susan would be topless. Silly, I know, but that'd be cool.

I take a bite of burger. "Wow, that's good."

Susan smiles. "Thanks. Now tell me more about what's happening with you."

"Leaving for college next month," I say. "The Massachusetts Institute of Technology."

She raises her eyebrows, nodding. "MIT? Wow! Good for you. You'll sure be getting the hell out of here next month."

"Same as you did."

"And I don't regret it," she says.

"Working in the movies is as far from around here as it gets. It must be amazing."

Susan sips her beer. "I still can't believe it. Half the girls I went to school with work at Dairy Queen. The other half are already married. Meanwhile, I'm in Hollywood doing costume design. It's like a dream."

"Are you working on a movie now?" I ask.

"Yeah. It's by the guy who directed

American Graffiti

."

"I loved that one. Something about that last summer before heading off to college. It spoke to me."

Susan laughs. "Yeah, I wonder why."

"What's his new one about?"

"It's kinda far-out," Susan says. "My roommate Anne says it's going to make more money than

Jaws.

Change the industry forever. Could you imagine?"

"Anne? Tom mentioned you lived with some dude."

"Not anymore," Susan says. "You are looking at a newly-single woman. Unattached."

"So you came here?"

"I needed a little time away from all the places that reminded me of him," Susan says. "I had a few weeks and figured I'd drop in on the old hometown."

"You sound like you regret it," I say.

Her shoulders sink. "None of my old friends were glad to see me. A few won't even acknowledge my presence. Others make plans and cancel them without so much as an apology."

"You remind them of everything they're never gonna be," I say. "And they resent it."

Susan studies me. "You're oddly wise for your years. In some ways, at least. It's good you're leaving. Some people thrive in a small town. They must. Not the ones like us, though. We're never happy here."

"I think it's great you got out," I say.

"My parents don't," Susan says. "They expected a traditional route from me. Instead they got a daughter working out in Hollywood, living in sin and having tons of premarital sex."

Tons of premarital sex?

Why'd she share

that

? Now images of Susan having sex in all sorts of ways run through my head. Susan on top, Susan on all-fours. Susan giving a blowjob.

"We, uh, we each have to follow our own path," I say.

Susan gives me another enigmatic smirk. For a moment our eyes meet. "That we do. But back to you. What're you planning on studying?"

"Computers."

She cocks her head and takes a sip of beer. "Okay. I majored in Art. About as far from computers as it gets."

"I don't know about

that

," I say. "There's beauty in the pure logic of how a computer works. The elegance of efficiency."

"Okay," she says. "That's kinda deep. Almost Zen. Is that why you picked computers?"

"They're the future! The things they'll do in our lifetimes are incredible."

Susan grins, nodding.

"Sorry," I say. "I get carried away."

"No need to be sorry. Here's to following our passions."

We clink bottles and fall silent, eating. I take my time. I don't want this meal to end.

Susan finishes her food and sighs. "Don't you love Summer? It feels like life's on hold, but, you know, that's only half-true. Summer's the pause. Before the big changes tend to happen. That's why you need to enjoy it."

I nod. "I never thought about it."

We share another glance. Her eyes hold mine for longer than normal. There's a charge in the way she looks at me, isn't there?

No. Stop it.

When would a woman like her be interested in some teenage dork? As if she's about to get up and straddle me. Picture it. Susan kissing me hard, tits pressing into my chest. My hands clutching her ass. Crotches grinding together.

"Hello? Earth to Michael," Susan says.

"What?"

"You were a million miles away."

If you only knew.

"I was thinking about college. You know, the changes coming."

"It's a weird time, isn't it?" Susan says. "Exciting and terrifying all at once."

"You're the first person I've spoken to who gets that."

Susan shrugs. "Of course I am. You know, I'm glad you dropped by. It's good to have the company of another oddball. I was all prepared for a lonely night."

"Where are you folks?"

She sips her beer. "Staying overnight with friends somewhere along the Jersey shore. It's just you and me all night. Got anywhere else you want to be?"

Nowhere on Earth.

"Nope."

"Then hang out here," she says. "How's that sound?"

"Pretty good. What do you want to do?"

Susan gives me an inscrutable smirk. "I don't want to miss the fireworks at sunset. After that, I'm sure we can think of something. We've got the whole night, just you and me."

"I bet the fireworks will be huge this year."

Susan rolls her eyes. That same flash of annoyance as before. "Yeah. Biggest ever, they say. A night to remember."

"You think so?"

"I'm sure of it," she says.

"Travelin Band" starts behind us. Our eyes meet again. My heart races. Excitement coursing through me. Susan's eyes brighten into a shade of bright emerald that floors me.

She starts to say something then stops, looking away.

"Where do you want to go to see the fireworks?" I ask.

"You'll see," she says. "I know the best place in the world to watch them."

"You do?"

She nods. "And do you know the best part?"

I shake my head.

Susan leans closer to me, meeting my gaze. Stopping my heart. "No one else knows about it. It'll be just you and me."

I can't breathe. Somehow, I manage to speak. "Okay."

Susan giggles, leaning back. "It's a while until it's dark, though. Let's have another beer while we wait."

***

I follow Susan up the trail, admiring her ass. It's impossible not to. Those skin tight jeans show off the ideal roundness of her butt. Not to mention the way it sways as she moves.

Fuck

.

If only I could grab it. Reach out and give it a playful smack. Or shove my face between her cheeks. Better yet, have her pull her jeans down first.

Then

stick my face in there.

I sigh, shaking my head. Why am I doing this? It's torture. I've never even seen a woman naked in person. The stash of Playboys under my bed is the closest I've gotten.

Susan glances back, catching me checking out her ass. She grins. "It's right up ahead."

The path is narrow and steep. It began behind Susan's garage. Working its way back and forth. Advancing up the side of the rocky hill. I feel the burn in my quads.

We arrive at an outlook facing west.

At last.

"My great-grandfather blazed this path," Susan says. "Ain't it something?"

"It sure is. Jeez."

There's a line of far lower hills in front of us. Beyond them is the County Fairgrounds where the fireworks will be.

"How is this place a secret?" I ask.

Susan takes off her pack, spreading a blanket on the ground. "The western slope is a sheer drop. We took the only way up. The only other possible approach is on Mr. Hopper's property. And he's not the type to tolerate trespassers."

I laugh. "So I've heard."

She retrieves a pair of lagers from her pack, taking a seat on the blanket. "Come, sit."

There's six feet of blanket spread out.

Okay. How close is

too

close? Not

right

next to her, but it's weird to sit at the far edge of the blanket. I split the difference and sit an arm's length away.

Susan lowers her head, shaking it. "I don't smell

that

bad, do I?"

"What? No."

She pats the blanket beside her. "You can sit closer to me. I won't mind."

I slide nearer and she hands me one of the lagers.

She's so near I could wrap my arm around her shoulders. That'd be nice. Arousing to even contemplate.

We twist open our beers, looking westward. I'm buzzed and take it slow. How am I gonna drive home later? It's not like she'll have me sleep over.

The sun's almost down. It's warm but no longer stifling. The steady breeze feels nice.

"Tell me more about computers," she says. "You said they're going to change the world."

"Most people around here aren't usually interested."

She leans against me. "I think we've established I'm not like most people around here. Now tell me."

I smile, enjoying her closeness and her peach scent. She genuinely wants to hear what I have to say, doesn't she? Okay.

"There's this thing called Moore's Law."

"Never heard of it," she says.

"It says computer power doubles roughly every year and a half."

Susan glances at me. "That adds up in a hurry."

"Within a couple of decades, computers will change everything about how we live."

Susan nods, listening intently.

I spend the better part of a half hour going on and on. Most of the time, people's eyes glaze over when I talk about these things. Susan, though, looks straight at me. Asking questions.

We drain our bottles and take a break to pee. Susan first, then me. When I return, I sit closer to her than before. Why not?

She takes me by the hand and drapes my arm over her shoulders. "The breeze up here has made me chilly."

Instant arousal. A swelling in my groin. How is this real? My arm is

actually

around Susan. We're leaning against each other.

Wow!

The sky has darkened. I spot Mercury for a fleeting moment before it follows the sun below the horizon. Venus remains high above. Just below the quarter moon.

"Tell me more about what computers will do," Susan says.

"Sure." I pick up where I left off. Rambling, maybe, but Susan doesn't seem to mind. I keep my arm over her shoulder and it's a wonderful thing. Above us, the summer constellations gradually emerge.

"I've never even heard of any of this before," Susan says. "Electronic mail, digital photography. And you're saying this is all coming soon?"

I nod. "It's already here. By the mid-nineties—"

I'm interrupted by a red light streaking upwards in the distance. It explodes in a burst of orange. The boom reaches our ears a few seconds later.

"Oh! Here we go!" Susan says.

"You weren't kidding about this being the best view," I say.

She squeezes my knee, a thrill running down my spine. "Would I steer you wrong?"

The show begins, the sky filling with explosions of red, white, and blue.

It's an extra giant display this year, more fireworks than I've ever seen. And why not? It's not every day a country turns two hundred.