The Old Swimming Hole

They’d found the creek easily enough, flowing through what was little more than a glorified drainage ditch across from the remains of the town’s general store, which had long-since fallen victim to Wal-Mart.  It trickled down the mountain’s side, stopping every so often to pool, placidly, water striders skittering across the surface, the odd snake (non-poisonous, Jason hoped) sunning itself near the water’s edge.  They wordless had begun to hike along the rough trail on the bank, their shoes thudding against the mud that had been baked brick-hard by the July sun.
         The day was powerfully hot, and Jason found himself stripping off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, draping it from his belt, in what he hoped would be a rather sly approximation of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.  Matt, shy now in the daylight and his full view of the smooth skin stretched across Jason’s soccer player body, continued to perspire as they struggled up the hill.  The path lead them into a wooded area which stretched before them.  Relaxing again in the shaded, dark place, Matt grasped Jason’s hand again, and they continued their ascent.  Here and there, animal sounds would erupt from the brush, and something far quicker than human eyes would dart deeper amongst the trees. 
         The ground beneath their feet began to level off, the space between the trees began to open up, and the path suddenly ended on the bank of a small, but clearly deep lake.  A large boulder jutted out of the ground and out into the water, serving, for all intents and purposes, as a makeshift dock.  The lake, despite the heat of the day and the fatigue that hung in the air like a mist, was empty of anyone else.  It was upon the boulder that Matt removed his shoes and socks, and then walked to the end of the rock, and dangled his feet down into the water.  Jason joined him momentarily, and Matt flung an arm around his shoulder.  Matt leaned his head into Jason, and sighed.
         “Too hot to cuddle, Matt.”  With this, Jason stood, throwing his shirt down, his hands going to his waist, where they swiftly shucked his remaining clothes to the place beside the shirt.  He took a moment to feel the sunlight against his body, and then with a yelp and a flying leap from the boulder, he plunged into the lake’s cool, blue water.
         “You joining me or not?” he called, treading water.
         Matt stood, his eyes sweeping the bank for any sign of company, finding only the cries of distant birds and the humming of insects.  He reached for the hem of his shirt, stopped, reached again, and stopped.
         “What’s stopping you?” Jason called from the water.
         “I can’t, um….I can’t…I don’t know how to swim.”
         “You lived in Miami for how long now?  Come on, it’s easy.  This isn’t the Olympics, we’re just really keeping from drowning.”
         Matt bit his lip, then, his hands moving fast, disrobed, his eyes continuing to race around the lake’s edge.  The fear of being seen nude apparently greater than his fear of drowning, he stepped from the rock without a moment’s hesitation, plunging feet-first into the water, his toes just brushing the muddy bottom.  Jason swam easily to his side, grabbing both of Matt’s hands, and using the power in his legs, pulled them both out deeper into the water.
         “Easy does it,” he told Matt, “just use your arms and legs like you’re beating eggs.  Or your feet like you’re riding a bike”
         Matt’s hands began to revolve below the surface like a dervish, and his feet kicked frantic circles.  Once he realized he was not, in fact, going to sink immediately, the pace relaxed, and he began regard Jason again with a new found sense of awe.  He leaned in for a kiss, and, pulling back, found his voice again.
         “You know, you told me where you came from, but you never really told me where you’re going or why you’re going there.  And what the hell you’re doing in Clifton.  I mean, from everything you’ve told me, and everything I’ve seen about you, a tiny town in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly your scene.”
         Jason was silent for a moment, before beginning “Well, I could probably ask you the same question.  I mean, there are a lot of reasons that I’m on my way somewhere that’s else.  And hell, I’m not sure I know exactly where I’m going.”
         “So you’re not going to tell me?”  Matt sounded almost hurt.
         “No, I’ll tell you, but right now, I just want to enjoy the day, and you, and try to stay far, far away from that weird woman at the hotel.”
         “Connie?  I think she’s great.”
         “I guess, but a little pushy about people.”
         “Aren’t you the New Yorker here?  I would have that you’d like being among your own kind.”  Now, Matt took his hand and smacked it into the water, causing a jet to shoot directly in Jason’s face.  Jason responded in kind, and the sound of water splashing against water echoed around the lake.
         Jason tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle.  “Touché,” he said.
         “So?”
         “So, nothing.  Right now, I think we’re entirely too far apart on some things.  Like physically, for instance.”
         With this, he floated closer to Matt, leaning in for another kiss.  He wrapped his arms around Matt’s back, and felt as Matt responded in kind.  This left their treading vulnerable, and their heads dripped below the water.
         When they broke apart, they looked into each other’s eyes and started to laugh, so hard and loudly that the birds escaping the heat in the shade of the nearby trees were frightened into flight.