Chapter 2b - The Timrod Library (Tony)

The water was warm, and the riverbed beneath their feet was soft and squishy. The river was well above Tony's bellybutton when she had walked out to where Ash was.

After a few minutes in the water, Ash seemed to be calming a bit, though her face was still sweating. Her hair was curly, and she normally wore it unkempt and down in her eyes. But in the water, with her hair wet and pushed back, she had an attractive round face and freckles. She was Tony's age or maybe a little bit older. Ash was taller than Tony with wide hips and long slender fingers. She kept splashing water on her face and pushing her hair back like she was still hot. Ash either didn't seem to notice or care that she was giving Tony and Sean a clear view of her breasts.

Sean was splashing around and being silly. He had a stupid grin plastered across his face, a look that was, no doubt, born of being seriously stoned and also having just seen two full sets of boobs in real life.

Sean grinned. "Can't tell you. It's a secret. But if you are going to be here through the weekend, I can get more if you can pay."

"He doesn't know," Ash said. She giggled a little. Her face was red. "He just rolls it and sells it."

"Shut up." Sean said. "You don't know what I do." He splashed water at her. And she giggled again.

"This town sucks," Sean said. "You don't want to live here. This is literally the most interesting thing I've done all year. And yeah, that girl, Betty, that's fucked up."

"She was one of the virgins," Ash said sleepily. "They are so weird. I'll bet them other girls killed her."

Sean shook his head. "Don't listen to her. She's always going on about 'the virgins.'" He splashed at Ash again. "Like I said, this town sucks, and you've got three kinds of people in it. You've got the ultra-religious, but there ain't many of those, and they're usually pretty nice. You've got the normal people. Most of them go to church, but, you know, they ain't 'born agains' or anything. There are so many of the normals though, they are always in someone's business. That's just small town shit for you. Then you've got the kids. 'Lifers' I call 'em. Kids that were born here, live here, and will probably die here. And we are no fucking good. All we do is drink, smoke weed, and screw each other when we can without getting caught." Sean's eyes drifted down to the waterline and the tops of Tony's breasts before he caught himself and looked away.

"Not the virgins though," Ash said. She had swum over close to Tony and touched her arm. She looked deadly serious, but still sleepy.

"Not the virgins," Sean agreed. "There is this group of girls, most of them are out of high school now, and they are like nuns. They don't hang out with kids their age. They don't drink, don't smoke, and don't have any fun. You almost never see them out anywhere except when their families make them go to church or whatever. They don't even hang out with each other. They just....don't do anything. I don't think any of them work. I'm not sure how we started calling them 'virgins,' but there you are. Betty was one. She was the Queen Virgin."

"She's been like that for years," Ash said. "Betty, Sarah Grace, and Molly. There's something wrong with those girls."

Sean was about to open his mouth again to speak when a loud snap sounded from the shore. It was footsteps, and they were nearly at the bank. Tony could see the shape of at least three people coming out from behind the trees.

Three men appeared on the bank of the river with shotguns. The men were sweaty and dirty and looking very serious.

"What have we got here?" said the tallest man with a thin, scraggly beard. He wore overalls, boots, and a sleeveless black t-shirt. He looked from the swimmers to the clothes and back to the swimmers again.

"Trespassers," said the second man. He was almost as tall as the first but was clean-shaven and wore tan work pants, boots and a dirty red Metallica tank top.

The third man was older. He too wore overalls with a white t-shirt. He was short, fat, and had a white beard. He walked forward to the bank of the river and leaned his shotgun over his shoulder. He looked right at Sean.

"You know who I am boy?"

"Yessir," Sean said.

"Good. That'll make this easy. Get out of the water. Get dressed."

Reluctantly, Sean trudged out of the river and onto the bank. The tallest man tossed him his pile of clothes, and Sean began hurriedly dressing.

The old man backed up away from the river and stood behind the two piles of clothes that were left. He pointed at Tony. "You, girl. Come here. Now."

When the old man spoke, the other two men tightened up their grips on their shotguns. The clean-shaven younger man grinned.

The old man just stood there and stared at her until Tony walked over and stood in front of the two piles of clothes. The shorter of the other men watched her with a grin. His shotgun was nearly pointed at her. The taller man kept his eyes on Sean who was getting dressed as fast as he could.

"And who might you be?" the old man said.

He reached out and took the hat off her head. He held that hat over one pile of clothes and then the other as if he was trying to decide which pile to drop the hat on. He guessed the left pile, Tony's pile, and dropped it. Then he looked up the length of her until their eyes met.

"You aren't from around here, are you?"

"You, come here girl." The old man waved Ash out of the water. She came out slower and with far less confidence than Tony and Sean. She did her best to cover herself with her hands. The old man looked over his shoulder again at Sean. "You have proved to be a useful idiot, boy. You can go."

Sean looked at Tony and Ash, and a new look of horror came over his face. He pointed at Ash. "That's Ashely, she's Lucille's..."

"I know who she is," the old man barked, cutting him off. "I said go." The old man took his shotgun off his shoulder when he spoke.

Sean turned tail and left. When he disappeared out of sight into the trees, he was practically running.

The old man bent down with a grunt and began fishing around in Tony's clothes, holding up each piece and then dropping it back to the ground. When he got to her shorts, he pulled out her phone and threw it into the river. Then he pulled the back of weed out of her pocket and put it in his own. He dropped the shorts and walked over to Tony. He smelled like sweat and swamp. The old man reached over and picked off a little piece of leaf that was stuck to her chest, between her breasts and flicked it away. His fingernails were black with dirt. "Okay then," he said as if he had reached a conclusion about something.

The old man moved so that he could see both girls as Ash was still coming out of the water. "You can get dressed now." As soon as he said it, Ash jumped. She started to walk fast toward her pile of clothes but the old man put his muddy boot on her pile. She stopped dead in her tracks. The old man never looked at Ash. He was still looking at Tony. "Go on. Get dressed, Antonia."

He watched while she got dressed as did the two other men, paying no attention to Ash who was shaking violently now.

"We like to treat our visitors with kindness and respect," the old man said. "Southern hospitality and all that. But don't you come around here no more. You walk that way, along the path, then straight through the woods. Keep the sun at your back, and you'll hit Old Pine Road. Go right and that will take you Main Street. Library's on the corner. Billy, go behind her. Make sure you can see the back of her head the whole way. If she turns aside from the path, shoot her in the back."

"Yes, sir," the taller of the two other men said. He pointed his shotgun in the direction Tony was supposed to walk. He followed her at some distance until she reached the road and then he was gone. She could hear Ash sobbing quietly as she left.

The Henry Timrod Library in Marion, SC was on Central Avenue about a mile from the high school. It was founded in 1915 and housed a quaint collection of books for all ages as well as a small town archive. School was out, so the library was bustling today, but it was around lunch time, so the activity had thinned out, at least a little.

The fat, red-faced woman behind the counter looked at Tony with concern for a moment, but then decided to let it go. She passed Tony an old-fashioned cordless phone. "Press line 1 there. That will get you a line out. And you have to dial 1 if it isn't a local number."