Crab Orchard Review Vol. 12, No. 2, our

104 ◆ Crab Orchard Review
Melanie Jennings
“Ooooh, Baby, it feels sooo good.” And then I felt it. It. A pressure
easing up between my tightened thighs, our bodies still locked
together as if we were just enjoying an after-church hug with our
neighbor, except my neighbor was behind me, and he was Jerry. The
singing, the water, the snakes, the hollering, the nape hairs, they were
all swimming together in my mind, but I was feeling It, and my head
fell forward onto Jerry’s forearm beneath my neck as he pressed harder
against me.
“Baby! Jerry! You two get the hell up here now!” It was my Uncle
Lloyd out of nowhere, a fire poker in his hand stabbing the lawn as he
barked out the word hell. We shot our heads up to where Lloyd stood
on the edge of Vena’s yard, his turquoise and silver belt buckle flicking
shards of light out onto the water. Jerry backed away from me like an
outlaw and moved to my side.
“I was just spreading my new spirit around, Dad,” Jerry called, his
voice constricted.
“Uh-huh, sure,” Lloyd said, unmoving.
We moved toward the shore where my eyes tried hard to focus
on the colors and the people that had begun to blur. I felt the warmth
of Jerry’s hand under the water grab onto mine then, and his familiar
nail digging into the side of my pinkie flesh.