Meet the Smiths stories

When I was seventeen, I spent about two months out of the summer at my grandparents’ house up north. They run a volunteer-based house for war refugees, people seeking political asylum, etc., & in recent years, it had become a tradition in my family to volunteer – for a month, a year – there before heading off to university.

It was my turn, & I looked forward to it. It’s an old house, built back in 1867 & settled in a quiet, close-knit community. Almost to the point where everyone knew each other. The second part of the tradition was that you’d volunteer with at least someone else, usually between 13-28 years old or so, because the house attracted volunteers (usually foreigners). They’d be our peers, more or less. I was blessed with not one, but three over my visit, plus another two volunteers who were local.

The first three were distantly related to me, & I’d met one of them before. The other two were two brothers who I’d never met before, hailing from Georgia. We’ll name them, David, Steven, & Glenn.

David was just a few months shy of my age, but bigger, having played football. At this time, he had his heart set on culinary school, & rightly so. Steven was about sixteen, I think, & his younger brother Glenn maybe twelve to fourteen. Steven & Glenn seemed so typically southern, given the way they’d interact, if that gives you any more for you to visualize them.

“Any coincidence why you guys sport the same haircut?” I asked, not having known them that long? I was referring to their single-length military haircuts.

“Yeah, our mom said you could have any haircut you want, just shorter,” Steven answered.

If I remember correctly, the three of them never encountered each other. Instead, it was first Steven & Glenn, then once they went home to Georgia, David & another very distantly related cousin of mine who I won’t introduce since he’s a dickbag & not really noteworthy. A full summer.

Steven & Glenn were actually my brothers, though not through blood. I won’t go into it because it’s unique & potentially identifying. Anyways, we didn’t come to the house to be lazy; our grandfather set us to work with what I can only describe as landscaping: a lot of weeding, digging out old tree stumps, fashioning a new stone staircase, taming some wild brush, watering, digging a new water spout trench, & excavating a whole lot of work. I loved the work because it wasn’t academics, & took pride in the fruits of my labor.

Then I met the Smiths. The Smiths were a local family; their mother was the reverend at the Catholic church not more than a quarter mile down the street to the miniscule downtown area. The Smiths were a family of five: John, the eldest, a university junior, Morgan, the next eldest at sixteen years old, & Margot, the youngest at thirteen.

I first met Margot. Through their mother, they too were connected to my grandparents & their mission. Margot volunteered for the hell of it, & would work alongside Steven, Glenn & I in the heavy summer sun. I was the oldest of them all, & led them through a lot of our work. The way I talked, & the way I acted left the impression on them that I was very smart, an intellectual.

I am very humble in that regard, because I know the opposite is true. Having come to university, I am humbled everyday by how smart everyone else is, but that’s besides the point. Then, I was still in high school, in top ten, & I was fairly confident but unassumingly so. It pained me then, & it pains me now to talk about myself that way with others though. I can’t keep a straight face while spouting some r/iamverysmart shit. It’s so ludicrously painful that I’d leave all my dignity trailing a full five feet behind me.

Anyways, the Smith sisters were quite attractive, red-haired gals, but I’ll get to that. I couldn’t avoid an uncomfortable feeling when thinking about Margot though, even though four years is socially acceptable once you’re both over twenty. For a seventeen year old though, the maturity gap just seemed a bit too great.

They looked up to me, & seemed readily impressed with what I did. I think refusing to acknowledge it made them think I was smarter. Once they posed a hypothetical thought:

“Say, Mrs. Clairmont (local mom) had three kids – all boys – what’s the chances of that?” Margot asked. They all turned to me looking for a half-second response. Too bad probability is my weak point.

“Well, each birth would be independent of the others, so the probability wouldn’t change for each birth,” I replied. But I couldn’t answer any further. Yes, I know the answer now.

I felt so bad about their confidence that at one point I even flat out told David & Margot:

“You know, however smart you think I might be, there’ll always be someone else I think is that much smarter than I am. It’s all relative.” They probably thought I was wiser still.

I wasn’t always impressing them, though. The house had a work-hard, play-hard philosophy, so when it came time for us to relax, Margot had us meet up with her older sister, Morgan. Morgan was more my age, but I seemed to notice maturity scaled disproportionately given their ages. Maybe it was just me, because I was mature for my age, & younger teenage girls on phones didn’t give off a very responsible vibe.

We made our way to the local bridge, for bridge-jumping of course, & holy hell did it look like a huge fall standing on the edge of the bridge. I jumped three times. It didn’t help that I wasn’t a very good swimmer. When I was eight or so, I was extremely confident in the water, but alas, not anymore. I could swim just enough to stay afloat for a little bit, but doing it across any real distance was out of the question. You’d have to climb some large, mossy, slimy rocks on the edge to get back on the bridge, & it was more precarious yet since I knew snapping turtles to be local.

Morgan was a lifeguard & Steven, seeming to fit in with his Georgia background, was also an excellent swimmer in his own right. They both tried to race just under the keystone of the bridge, but stayed in place – the tide was coming back. No way in hell I would be able to keep up with them.

“eucix, you gonna go again?” one of them asked.

“No, I think I a little disoriented from the jumping now,” I said, bullshitting. I was terrified of jumping, bad at swimming, & put on my shirt to hide my ribs. Two times was enough.

We retreated to the Smiths’ house when we had had our fill, which was a lovely abode kept lively by a box turtle who lived on bok choy in front of the refrigerator & a tortoise-furred cat. We played cards, & I met my superior – John. John was in university, & seemed like a cool guy, which made me envy him all the more. He was studying mathematics at Yale, I think. Despite the age difference between him & hell, even me, he meshed well. Morgan changed into a lovely navy dress, & I stared at her breasts for too long.

The card games shifted to the only thing that interested them – Mao. Now, I had never played Mao before & I sucked at it terribly. Glenn, the youngest, put me to shame, which was even more humiliating. My frustration climbed when they explained that they reverted to the rules of Crazy Eights (Eighty-eights? Am I thinking of Kill Bill?).

This visit was exacerbated by a poorly timed need to shit. Earlier, when I was failing at swimming, I attempted a frog like actuation of my legs, which I think allowed some seawater to enter my asshole or something, because my anus was angry at me in front of this adorable girl.

“’scuse me, where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

“Just under the stairs, over there,” Morgan said, pointing towards the living room.

“Thanks.”

I shuffled my feet quickly & let the seawater return to the sea. I hope it wasn’t too loud.

The summer drew on, & we kept working, graced by Margot’s presence every so often. My grandfather is a man of conviction (which I greatly respect) & a devout Catholic, yet extremely tolerant of other (we’d housed many Muslim war refugees in the house), but in spite of his good nature & generosity, he was known to impress his ideology on others. Once, he told Margot & I while we were working the garden about this project to simulate the entire human brain in a computer. He’s referring to this project, which I was already familiar with. Incidentally this is the article from which I learned about it.

I kept my mouth shut as he said: “but it’s a silly project. It’ll never work. You know why? Because a computer can’t capture the human spirit.” Margot nodded in agreement (who can blame her? She was raised by the local reverend?). I was all for my grandfather’s benevolent intentions & mission, but this was too much. I voiced my discontentment by not talking, or otherwise acknowledging that his talk was falling on deaf ears.

“eucix, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, sure, absolutely. Sorry,” I said.

“Good.”

After my grandfather went back inside, I stopped & told Margot:

“Margot, do you believe all that?”

“Well, I believe in evolution & all that, so I guess I’m not sure.”

“Good. Don’t believe everything he says, & don’t believe what I say either. Find out for yourself,” I said. If there’s ever a moment I thought I’d be a good parent, this is one of them.

Work was steady, but so was play. The Smiths’ mother invited us to tag along at a local swim spot in the local river, which was also popular for its canoeing/kayaking options. From the dock, you could swim about an eighth mile to a small stand & swing. We ended up coming back here a few times.

The rope swing was set about fifteen feet off the water, & you had to climb a stand to get up there. Once up, you could have a full four seconds swinging before you had to bail to avoid breaking bones on the shoreline. Of course I was still foreign to the water, & although I took part in using the swing (which was also absolutely terrifying, by the way), I limited my participation.

Every summer brings a new threat, known locally as greenheads. I don’t even know if they carry off sizeable chunks of flesh when they bite you, but getting bit hurts like a bitch. Thankfully, the widely-used remedy was readily available as Skin So Soft. I used this as a shitty excuse to avoid staying in the water & using the rope swing too much.

In my defense, I attract mosquitoes & greenheads with ridiculous frequency, which is not complete bullshit. Few people respect this, given that they’ve never the person that gets bit when I’m around. It wasn’t dignifying at all to tell Margot I wouldn’t be going in the water again because I’d lose all my Skin So Soft.

& yes, she made fun of me for that.

We fucked around in the canoes, trying to see how far upstream we could go, but got stuck negotiating the narrow bridge (fast current). A year later I went with my cousin & we went thirteen miles past there.

Once I went with Morgan, Steven, & Glenn, plus Carol, one of Morgan’s friends. Carol was an inexplicably smoking hot brunette – seriously, I guess hot girls find each other. Carol left us early once her foot was cut on a rock, & Morgan helped her get back to town.

Over the weeks that I stayed at the house, I noticed that I was somehow competing with Steven for Margot & Morgan’s attention. Maybe it’s just because I’m wired to get jealous & aggressive around other dudes. It didn’t help that Steven, despite being younger (sixteen), held a driver’s license & I didn’t. I sat in the backseat as Steven drove me, Margot, Morgan, & Glenn to nearby town to meet with some girlfriends of the Smiths. Eh, I didn’t like them. I retreated even further when we went to get frozen yogurt. I hate frozen yogurt. Morgan seemed to notice my withdrawal, & tried to make small talk with me, but it didn’t work. Thanks though. I appreciated it.

How the fuck are you guys so captivated with Steven? I wanted to ask them. What’s he got that I don’t? Well, a driver’s license, for starters. & not crippling social anxiety.

Steven would only charm them further. We returned to the bridge where we went jumping before for a midnight swim. “I’ll take lookout,” I said. Really, it was so I could lay in the back of the truck & hole up against the mosquitoes & avoid embarrassing myself in the water.

Some stoners came by & I silently wished that they’d go attacking us in some drug-fueled craze so that I could step up & heroically beat the shit out of them. They left, leaving only something for the other four (Steven, Margot, Morgan, & Glenn) to laugh about.

Another time, we were coming back to the house late at night, & Steven had the bright idea of taking yet another midnight swim in the small marina. I was left alone on the dock when Steven & Glenn stripped to their boxers & jumped in to join Margot & Morgan in the dark water. They even started doing flips off the dock.

“eucix, why don’t you come in? Water’s warm,” said one of the Smith girls.

“Naw, I’m fine up here. Didn’t bring any swimwear,” I responded. Well, I had boxers on too.

We walked back to the house, & our grandfather stood in the floodlit driveway, smiling.

“You guys go for a little midnight swim?” he yelled, smiling.

“Sure did,” Steven replied, with a grin as we approached. “Why you think I’m soaking wet & in my boxers?”

Submitted January 04, 2017 at 09:18AM by eucix http://ift.tt/2iNAigJ stories