Locks
The one time I went to Corey’s house his dad locked us out. “He’s smoking,” Corey explained. We swam in the pool until the sun went below the tall pines and the water grew cold. Then we sat on the wood patio, my suit stuck to my legs. Mom wasn’t picking me up till seven.
“Want a snack?” Corey asked. I nodded and he tried the sliding door, then went back to his chair. He grabbed a speedboat from the chest of pool toys. Turning it over, a stream of water spilled from the hull onto the deck. He stood up again. “Let’s go.”
I followed him under the deck. He picked up his bike and then pointed to where his brother’s laid. It was too small but I got on anyway. The road was dark under the black trees. There were no cars, the only sounds our tires and the river. Ahead of me I saw Corey lift one arm and swat at the air, and a moment later I rode through a cloud of gnats.
Just past the field where we played softball Corey stopped at a gravel pull-off. We got off our bikes and walked them into the woods. The ground was spongy with pine needles. Corey was leading us back to the softball field.
“What are we doing?” I said. We dropped the bikes where the woods ended and walked past the dugout and tin bleachers to the concession stand. Its plywood window cover was padlocked. As he tried to lift it I looked at the road. If anyone drove by we were in plain sight. “Let’s go,” I said.
Corey smiled. Without speaking he jogged to the bleachers. I shifted, leaning out to see the road and then back behind the concession stand. Corey picked something up off the ground. As he came closer I saw it was a chunk of concrete.
Holding his arm straight he swung the concrete down on the padlock. A ring echoed across the field and off the trees. “Come on, Corey,” I said and turned to go but he brought it down again and this time the lock sprang free and fell somewhere in the dust. Without a word Corey lifted the plywood cover. He climbed onto the counter and grabbed two fistfuls of Airheads and Hot Fries.
“Want a snack?” he said, grinning.
I looked back at the road and then over to the trees. Still no cars. I reached over the counter and took a long pack of peanut butter cups and stuffed them into my swimsuit.
“Now let’s go,” I said. Corey tore open an Airhead and pulled the window cover back down. Walking back to our bikes he kicked at the dust and I saw the broken padlock arc towards the bleachers.