Tales from The Campfire

Part 4

Jon didn't like the way Chad had kept glancing at his sister. Grinning and looking over her breasts or backside whenever she was distracted, when she wasn't looking towards Chad. Jonathon knew that he wanted in her pants, it was obvious – sure, plenty of guys wanted to, but the way Chad was sickened Johnathon in the gut. The way Chads eyebrows would scrunch together and his mouth puckered in a silent, "ooo" as she leaned over, hitting his friend on the side to share the experience. Jonathon kept hoping Tiffany would catch him gawking, and then maybe she would catch on and leave. She was already pretty pissed at how her little brother and his disgusting friends had trailed her to their campsite, but that wouldn't stop Jon from protecting her.

It had been before dusk when Tiffany walked over from the camper to get herself a Diet Coke. Through the walking trail that avoided most of the other public sites and away from the daytime public parking lot. It led directly to the back of the "recreation center" – which loosely translated to a few shitters, an outdoor shower and a dingy building that housed a few aging arcade cabinets that were notorious for devouring quarters. That was when Chad had first noticed her and the feminine sway she was mastering - it was like a hungry fish drawn to a lure. He was leaned up against the wall of the public bathroom with a Newport 100 dangling from his mouth. He was wearing a black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off giving a spectacular view of his muscular arms. "Hey you should come by tonight and hang with us," he had invited with a greasy smile after lighting up a conversation. Jon knew then what he was up to – right from the beginning.

Jon needed his friends as backup, even if their intentions weren't good – he knew just their presence alone would foil any plans Chad may have.

Chad Carignan flicked a cigarette butt away and took another drink of his beer. Tiffany liked the way he did it with confidence. Unlike the others, he didn't glance both ways before a swig. He didn't keep it hidden. He didn't let it grow warm before cracking open another - it was his, and he didn't give a fuck what the consequence. He owned that beer. She knew it wasn't a façade, it was simply the way he was – and she liked that. They were gathered around the crackling campfire. A spot far enough from most other campsites, but still walking distance to the lake. The hypnotizing dance of the flames intermingled alongside the scent of the smoke. It was somehow calming. Their beacon of life underneath the blanket of darkness.

Jon swatted at the mosquitos, "Goddamitt!"

Chad turned a sly smile and remarked, "No one else is having any problems. Guess they like sweet virgins blood the most."

Everyone laughed, including his friends – Ben the loudest. It made Jon's blood heated. Sarah reached into the cooler and pulled another canned brew from the ice and handed it to Tiffany.

Inside, alarms rang - everything told Jon it was wrong. Everything that had been fed to him from teachers, after-school specials and those advertisements from Nancy Regan in the 80's. Tiffany was under 21, and these so-called "friends" probably were too. He wanted to stand up and shout, "Don't!" Or run back to the site and tell their dad - Richard wouldn't stand for that. Or would he? A flash returned to Jon of finding his dad in the kitchen with some red-headed floozy he had picked up from The Tipsy Spur, their noses covered in white powder. He asked what it was and Richard responded with a glazed, "It's nose candy." Of course, being only 5 years old, Jon wanted some of that candy right then and there too – but instead was scolded and scooted back off to bed. He listened to them laugh and carry on until his eyes grew too heavy to stay awake. They were still up when he awoke the next day.

Instead, Ben reached over the fire with an open hand.

"Throw the kid a beer," Cody Eyler murmured. Codys' hair was long, cinnamon-red and his face spattered with brownish freckles. A faded AC/DC t-shirt wrapped around his skeletal frame like latex. Sarah sneered, and shook her head. Cody reached past her and into the cooler, "Look out, I'll get it myself." He pulled a can out and handed it to Ben. Eyler commented with a slight laugh of assurance, "Alright now, see." He reached down and turned up the small cassette player. Geezer Butler's thick power chords rattled through it as the rest of Black Sabbath churned out the dark, slow progression.