Killdeer Dance

by Ronn Fryer

  Having to constantly spell shit out was a pain, but compassionate friend that Bobby was, he made the effort, spouting, “Fuckin’ A, and her place is gonna be spread eagle on the ground, with her legs pointing to the sky!”

  “Pointing to the skyyy!” Slacker repeated gleefully, as if he were sitting in the pew of a Pentecostal Church, lining along with Reverend Bobby.

  Chapter 15 – Charmed Circle

  Olivia wasn’t the only girl mad at herself for being afraid. Beyond their shared feelings of helplessness, the big difference between the girls was the direction in which their anger was focused.

  Livvy directed hers inward, while the others filled the air with derogatory adjectives describing the disgusting lowlifes. Stacy, however, wasn’t afraid, and she was absolutely not helpless. She was pissed though. Her anger, however, was aimed at her friends. They not only had those slime-balls hopelessly outnumbered, they were dealing with two dimwitted, jocks. The only advantages those bullies possessed was strength and a complete lack of morals.

  Unable to listen to any more whining, Stacy shouted, “Stop it!”

  Even the birds stopped in mid-chirp. The collective stunned look focused on the girl who’d just snugged up her ponytail. No one dared utter another word, they simply waited – for what they weren’t sure. Hopefully guidance, rather than additional chastisement. Nicole, ready to agree with whatever Stacy might say, studied her friend’s face for the slightest clue.

  “Bitching is just wasting time and energy!”

  “Well,” Courtney spoke up, “You still haven’t told us your plan.”

  Stacy had known the blonde all through high school. The girl’s verbal assaults were easily countered, but exposing anything at this time was risky. Simplicity always offered the best chance for success. Although Courtney and Keisha were they only ones who might conceivably challenge her, she knew the pitfalls of group overthink. Nevertheless, little Miss Cheerleader had called Stacy’s bluff and all eyes were on her. As the boys were soon to discover, however, Stacy was not about to be intimidated; and, regardless of her approach, she never backed down.

  Proceeding on a need-to-know basis, she simply replied, “Like I told them, we’re having a party.”

  “You really expect us to entertain them?” Keisha asked, beating Courtney by a millisecond.

  “Absolutely,” Stacy confirmed, looking from one girl to the next, assessing their individual assets. They may not be Victoria Secret models, but each girl gathered in a circle about her definitely had her own allure.

  With a devious smile, she added, “Those charmed are quickly disarmed.”

  Chapter 16 – Party On Girls

  The El Camino slipped past the entrance shack at Old Orchard just a little past seven. Bobby flicked his cigarette out the window (Smokey could kiss his ass), and twisted the radio’s volume knob, giving the Stones a chance to complain to the entire park. After all this time, they still couldn’t seem to get any satisfaction. That was Mick’s problem, the guy behind the wheel was about to get exactly what he wanted; and, very possibly, just what he deserved.

  All the girls, with the exception of Olivia and Ramona, were gathered at the little beach, chatting nonstop, saturating the shoreline with laughter. It would be impossible to miss them, unless you happened to live in Tawas, fifteen miles away. Stacy had promised a party, and even if they were a little sketchy of the details, each girl was about to exhibit her best killdeer dance – broken wings obviously needed to be flaunted.

  Since Olivia’s presence would certainly have complicated things, Tina and Stacy, in collaboration, decided that Ramona would stay behind and comfort the girl in jeopardy. Nicole’s spacious tent again considered the most logical safe-haven.

  Olivia offered a halfhearted protest but Ramona wouldn’t hear a word of it. If nothing else, the exchange student could at least offer emotional support. Besides, she was also best kept out of sight. Pretense being totally foreign to her, she wouldn’t fool anyone. Even if she tried to act tough, her demeanor would offer no more deterrent than her stature. About the worst the little poet could muster would be a scathing verse.

  Olivia quite welcomed her presence nevertheless. She could use all the support she could get. Beyond any addition damage the boys might impart, Livvy was presently dealing with some intense self-loathing.

  “This is ridiculous,” Olivia moaned, chastising the air about her that reeked with unfairness. “Nicole had the right idea.”

  Ramona leaned in and placed her hand on Livvy’s shoulder. “We need to let Stacee handle this – she can, believe me! Those brutes don’t stand a chance against her. Besides,” she added, “I don’t think Nikki even brought her baseball bat.”

  Olivia let out a sigh that all but billowed the tent’s nylon. She prided herself on being tough, femininity didn’t mean being weak. Performing a job that required climbing a fire tower ladder every day demanded a great deal of courage and strength. She was a forest service professional, not some scared bunny hiding in a burrow. She didn’t need a bat anyway, there were plenty of tree limbs lying about. Then again, what had that gotten her before?

  Meanwhile, the unsuspecting spiders were entering the web.

  Although Stacy still hadn’t explained her intentions in detail, the girls were starting to piece things together. Courtney and Keisha had reassured her that their phones were charged and ready to take an album full of pictures. No mere selfies. Clear shots of ‘hands in the cookie jar’ was what Stacy wanted – demanded, actually. Determined, neither girl was about to let her down. She wanted indisputable proof, and they were going to be damn sure she got it.

  “Heyyyy ladies,” Slacker slurred, striding toward the girls. On cue, they all smiled sweetly, even though Courtney had to literally bite the inside of her mouth to stifle a laugh. Hopefully, this clown was a little better at catching passes then making them.

  Bobby, already towering over everyone by at least a head, stopped on the crest of the hill and stretched. Arching his back as if posing for a trading card, he ran his fingers through his hair and began sizing up the situation.

  “Did you bring the beer?” he asked Slacker, staring at his teammate’s empty hands.

  “Thought yous gonna get it,” Slacker replied.

  Bobby’s look bordered on pity, the comment hardly worthy of response. Cold day when he started carrying groceries.

  Slacker, apologetic for his oversight, shagged his ass back to the car for the pair of six-packs. When he returned, he broke a can free and shoved one toward Nicole. She smiled seductively and accepted the offering as if it were a bouquet of roses.

  “Thank you,” Nikki purred, actually fluttering her lashes. Then to Bobby, she asked, “How about some introductions?”

  The quarterback ignored Nicole; looked at Stacy instead, and smirked. Slacker, never one to risk a delay-of-game penalty, eagerly introduced himself as James. Whereas, one by one, Jennifer, Courtney and Keisha offered fake names and realistic-looking smiles. Unsure if he should shake their hands, James simply gave a quick wave to each girl.

  “And I’m Vikki,” Nikki offered demurely, merely switching one letter of her nick-name.

  “That’s Bobby,” Slacker announced, nodding to his friend.

  The girls, in turn, all greeted Bobby with realistic admiration. Since the inability to suspend disbelief is simply a flaw of the unworthy, there is no such thing as overacting. The gridiron hero merely nodded.

  As yet, no one had even mentioned Stacy; and, although she’d originally been gregarious, had given an award-winning performance, her persona now changed drastically. She was well aware that silence signified strength. Losers in the game of cat-and-mouse always twitched first.

  Bobby, much more lion than any mere cat, leveled his gaze at Stacy and asked, “So what’s your name?”

  With eyelashes hovering somewhere between danger and desire, she giftwrapped his stare and said, “Me? I’m Thirsty.”

  Unable to contain his appreciation for
such wit, Slacker’s face burst into a toothy grin. “Hells yeah!” he declared. And with that, the party began.

  Chapter 17 – Can’t Touch This

  Twenty minutes into their little soiree, Tina voiced her concern over Stacy’s behavior. Stepping toward her, she wailed, “Tracy, slow down on that gin!”

  Although the other girls had employed alias,’ Tina didn’t dare. Small towns offered little anonymity, especially with attractive females. She wasn’t full of herself, but she certainly wasn’t dense. Worse, the Pine Cone Telegraph had most likely lit up after she’d broken poor Jason’s heart. A fictitious name would be far too risky, one slipup could easily ruin the show.

  “Tracy!”

  Despite never having taken any drama classes, Tina’s acting skills were quite impressive. She absolutely nailed the concerned friend trying to look after someone who’s had way too much to drink. Evidently, the trick was to completely immerse yourself in the role.

  The best supporting characters also played off the star’s lead; and, Stacy was an undeniably intoxicating, intoxicated star. Her performance was nearly flawless – even the girls who’d watched her fill the empty gin bottle with water, had to wonder. The girl was obviously drunk on her ass!

  “Don be sil-lee,” the leading lady slurred as she hoisted the bottle back to her lips.

  “Tracy, really – you’ve had enough!” Tina nagged, her voice cracking with frustration.

  Meryl Streep ignored her and turned to the boys. Stumbling over her own foot, she asked, “Are we gonna party, or what?”

  Slacker, eager to display his worthiness, tossed down a big swig of Bud. Wiping the overflow dripping down his chin with the back of his arm, he howled, “Par-ty!”

  “How ‘bout chew?” she asked, wobbling toward Bobby as if adjusting to the moving ground.

  Bobby took a healthy sip from his can, but remained silent. Only ass-wipes and idiots filled the air with chatter.

  Initially underestimating his ego, Tracy, as any great actress, began to improvise. She’d been portraying someone helplessly inebriated, but her script was shaky at best and overacting threatened to undermine any scene. a bigger jackass than Bobby was hard to image, but he wasn’t stupid. It was hard to believe that even ditsiest skirt got wasted this soon – and yet.

  Since the Play’s the Thing, the proof seemed to be in the putting. So, Stacy put herself all the way in. Time to advance the plot, Tracy served up her biggest smile (formidable at half its present intensity), and leaned in close enough to smell his corrosive breath. “Don’t you like me?”

  “You’re all right,” he admitted.

  “Do-ya think I’m pret-ty?” she slurred.

  “I’ve seen worse.”

  Tracy turned back to Tina and giggled, “He said he’s seen worse, whata you think?”

  Her friend, deeply concerned, reached over to snatch the bottle of Gilby’s. But in spite of her apparent condition, Ms. Streep managed to outmaneuver her. Struggling with renewed exasperation, Tina said, “Yes Tracy, you’re very pretty.”

  “Thaaank you,” Tracy gushed, a smug smile signifying her vindication. Facing Bobby again, she added, “Tina says I’m very pretty – so there!” After which she gulped down a heaping mouthful of zero proof water.

  Unable to contain himself, Bobby smirked. Maybe it would be just this easy. It’d been too long since his last conquest, and like he said, he’d seen worse. He sure as hell had no problem doing her in her present condition. If you can’t handle drinking you got what you deserved.

  With an almost imperceptible glance toward Courtney’s hand, Stacy confirmed that the girl’s cell was tucked securely in her palm. Keisha and Jennifer were standing off to her right, seemingly engrossed in Slacker’s detailed account of the boys’ latest heroics.

  Everything seemed ready; the scene was set, the audience was primed – the little CD player sitting in the sand even provided the perfect soundtrack. Inhaling deeply, Stacy decided it was high time for good little killdeers to start limping. Besides, her bladder couldn’t handle much more water.

  Moving in close enough to reel from Bobby’s cigarette stench, Tracy giggled and extended her 34 Bs, asking, “What about these, have you seen worse?”

  The slut was obviously begging to be groped.

  Although it seemed easier than shooting frogs, the coach’s pride and joy still hesitated. Another swig of beer might help him figure things out. This girl was weird. First she’s friendly, then she’s aloof – now she’s shamelessly throwing herself at him. Sure, tourist girls were typically eager for a summer fling, but they were rarely this easy. Still, he was a damn good looking guy, the star of the football team, and everybody knew there was no understanding women anyway.

  He took a good long look at Tracy’s goods, protruding like the easiest yardage he’d ever seen – set his arm for a pass – and then faltered. The ref would have called a false start.

  Although it was probably his suspicious nature, something just didn’t seem right. He wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t about to pass up a chance like this, but they’d come looking for the tower bitch and she was nowhere in sight. There were worse distractions, of course, but the little forest twit was a thorn in his side and he knew she had to be here somewhere. His gut never lied.

  Stupid bimbos probably had her hiding somewhere. Girls always covered for each other, they learned deceit in the cradle. This Tracy chick, however, was begging for his manhood and she was damn well gonna get it! The conservation bitch could wait – first things first, and all.

  Sensing tinges of his ambivalence, Stacy decided to up the ante by bringing that precious manhood into question. “You do like girls, don’t you? I mean, these days....well, you never know.”

  The tactic worked like a charm, charming enough to icepick through rhino hide.

  Even as Bobby’s smirk suggested the comment was hardly worthy of response, the flash of anger in his eyes was unmistakable. Without hesitation, he switched the half-empty can of Bud to his other hand, freeing his right to firmly cup her breast.

  No pigskin ever had a better grip. He’d damn well show the little whore which side of the field he threw from!

  Chapter 18 – Say Cheese

  The photo shoot wasn’t perfect. Courtney and Keisha drew their cell phones like gunslingers, timing their shots the very moment Stacy’s face contorted with shock; but, with the sun already below the trees, the lighting could have been better. It hardly mattered though. The instant Bobby realized what had happened his mind spiked with painful clarity.

  As he ripped his hand away from its present location, he was faced with a dilemma – no matter how much he wanted to paste the F-ing slut that had just set him up, he couldn’t waste precious time. The situation called for immediate damage control. He needed to destroy the evidence even if he had to break a few wrists in the process. The problem, however, was that the deceitful little bitches were a good ten feet apart.

  “Don’t bother!” Stacy blared, instantly reading his thoughts. “A step towards one, and the other will flood the net with a picture of you molesting me.”

  In a fit of rage, Bobby cocked his arm, ready to give her his best.

  “Go ahead,” she dared him. “Break my nose too, I’m sure one hit will get them a million!”

  Although her size offered a minor nuisance at best, Tina tried to step between Stacy and her assailant. Her advance, however, was blocked by Stacy’s outstretched arm. From the look in his eyes, it seemed all too possible that Bobby would succumb to his need for revenge; and, if she was about to get punched, Stacy wanted the world, and her photographers, to have an unobstructed view.

  Her plan had worked too well though – he didn’t dare hit her. Hatred contorting his face, the big jock simply glared, then spit out, “Fuck You, Bitch!”

  Although there was still no telling what he might finally do, his swearing was a good sign. Snakes rattled mainly to intimidate. And, as much as she relished the idea of exposing his brutality t
o the world – sticks, stones, and grapefruit-sized fists, did break bones.

  Tracy, the dedicated actress, never once flinched. As he slowly lowered his arm, however, Stacy’s relief was nearly audible. Up until then, adrenaline had been her ally; but, as it began to dissolve, she felt her heart race. Words were just words, she’d been called her share. She’d even faced some pretty intense confrontations before, but this was different. Shutter the thought if she’d been alone. The pure evil in his eyes seared through her, the heinous intent scorching with a look that emphatically defined the horror of the tower girl’s aquiline nightmare.

  Despite everything she thought, or felt, from Tina’s earlier description, it wasn’t until that very moment that she truly understood Olivia’s pain.

  Mercifully, Stacy endured no physical damage.

  After the extended stare-down, Bobby, although furious, was eager to remove himself from camera range. His left hand still held the can of Bud, though, and as he stepped out of the pocket, he switched it back and delivered a bullet. Fortunately, the pass was incomplete. It missed Stacy by a foot, merely spraying her face with foam. His technique, however, shouldn’t have been judged too harshly. An impending photobomb blitz left precious little time for accuracy.

  Chapter 19 - Getting It

  It didn’t seem the girls would ever settle down after Bobby and Slacker’s dramatic departure. Anxiety, fear, excitement, relief; and a myriad of other, adrenaline-laced emotions, kept their tongues wagging nonstop. Stacy, however, wasn’t interested in reliving any of it. She’d simply done what needed to be done. Hopefully it was over with and they’d seen the last of those disgusting bullies.

  Without a word to anyone (least of all Nicole), she just slipped away, ending up perched on a rail overlooking the point’s little boat launch. Strong people were typically overestimated. Even if her performance seemed flawless, the event had taken its toll.