Before I Stepped into the Water
- Jul 23, 2021
- 2 min read
by Eric Scot Tryon
Before I stepped into the water we would go to places like The Burger Hut and bet each other how many fries we could eat in a minute. You finished 89. I beat you by 38, but I also laughed so hard Pepsi came out my nose and we were asked to leave.
After I stepped into the water I didn’t know if I could still call you after midnight.
Before I stepped into the water we would do things like park my truck on the beach with a party box of 59-cent tacos, and you would tell me your secrets like getting your first period at Janelle’s birthday party or how your dad hit you that one time. He’d been drinking, which your mom always excused away, but not you, now you didn’t speak to him and slept in a tent in the backyard most nights.
After I stepped into the water we would only talk about things like Mr. Pirello’s math homework and when college apps were due.
Before I stepped into the water we had just finished the entire bottle of Vodka you took from your Dad’s desk drawer. Before I stepped into the water we snuck into the McCaffrey’s backyard. Their grass wasn’t knee high, and they didn’t have stacks of wood infested with black widows. Before I stepped into the water you—now vodka-glazed—took your clothes off and got into their hot tub. You turned on the jets and bit at the bubbles on the water’s surface.
After I stepped into the water you would sit across from me at lunch, not next to me, or you didn’t show up to lunch at all or sometimes not even to school.
Before I stepped into the water you told me to take my clothes off too. Before I stepped into the water you told me to get into the hot tub and please, please, please peel you out of your own skin and make you forget the world outside the McCaffrey’s backyard. Before I stepped into the water I did take my clothes off, knees shaking, and I knew how much you needed this, but I also knew that things would never be the same, not anymore, not once I step into the water.
Eric Scot Tryon’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Glimmer Train, Willow Springs, Monkeybicycle, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, Berkeley Fiction Review, Bending Genres, Fictive Dream, Versification, (mac)ro(mic), Wisconsin Review, and others. Eric is also the Founding Editor of Flash Frog. He lives in Northern California with his wife and daughter. You can find more information at www.ericscottryon.com or on Twitter @EricScotTryon.
