The Magic of Salt Water (LGBT, wlw)

Cabin

     I hated my aunt's summer cabin. There were always cobwebs that hid in corners and wherever my arms happened to go. There were leaks in the ceilings and in the chimney. The only reason I ever really went and slept on a mattress filled with spiders was because there was a beach fifteen minutes from it... and my aunt was alone most of the time. That was why I would spend half of my summers playing 'cleanup' with Aunt Lilith and my sister Trish (short for Patricia, of course).

     I thought of the flat mattresses she had us sleep on with disdain as Trish and I sat with Aunt Lilith in the car. Trish and Lilith sat in the front seat, singing along with the Grease soundtrack. The windows were opened, and the sun beat on my face, counteracting the fresh breeze of the ocean that I could smell already. I quickly slipped on my sunglasses.

     Trish turned to me, and beamed.

     "Jamie, sing with us! Summer Nights is the best song on this track!" she said. I shook my head.

     "I'm okay. I have to think about how I'm getting to that beach as quickly as I can," I answered. Trish laughed.

     "We'll get you there. If Aunt Lilith won't take you right away, I'll drive," nineteen year old Trish said. I looked at the window again. Trees filled my view. "Sour already, aren't you?" Trish asked.

    "If you mean tired already, then yes," I responded. She faced forward again as Lilith restarted Summer Nights. I didn't like Grease. Everything about it was unrealistic. Trish was always a dreamer though, and so was Aunt Lilith. It didn't surprise me that they loved it so much.

     "Aunt Lil, I hope I find my summer love this year," Trish gushed to our aunt, who laughed in response.

     "Why do you think I bring you to the beach every year?" she asked. I scoffed to myself.

     "The beach is too cliché," I added under my breath. Trish glared at me from the corner of her eye.

     The car pulled into a narrow path, where branches reached out to take us into piles of dead leaves. The song changed, and I ignored it. I dreaded my fate. No air conditioning, no internet, limited electricity. The only thing I had to look forward to was the ocean, and maybe the sand. No, not the sand. Screw the sand. It always found it's way to get into the weirdest places, and stay there. I always managed to get it in my mouth. The ocean's okay, though.

     Aunt Lil pulled up in front of the cabin, nestled in the woods... where no one can hear you scream.

     Well, not no one. About a three minute walk down the road there is a neighbor. Stanley, maybe? I could never remember his name. He always wore one of those hats that said 'Vietnam Veteran' on it, and a military green coat. When I was younger, and aunt Lil first bought the cabin, he would always make it a point to show us the turtle that lived in the little pond beside his cabin, and he'd give us butterscotch. I never had the heart to tell him I hated butterscotch. He always gave me two, and Trish one. Maybe that was because I was never skinny, and he assumed I liked all candy.

     Way to stereotype, Stan.

     He's not the only one, though. I always had a knack for being stereotyped. Especially the one that rolled off of everyone's tongue in such a disdainful manner (school, what more can I say?).

     Lesbian.

     Yeah, I'm a lesbian. So what? If I went around and called everyone out on their differences, people would be on edge. So why me? Oh yeah. I'm a woman, who is gay, who is slightly overweight. I never even told anyone I was. I never knew how they found out.

     I forgive Stan. He was at least stereotyping in the least harmful way I have ever been stereotyped. Love you, Stan.

     She opened the exterior door to the cabin, which Trish held back. Lil tried to open the interior door, which happened to be stuck to the doorway. I held my duffle-bag of clothing and everything I needed, and watched as Lil fiddled with the keys and with the door. She laughed.

     "Wow. This door hates me. A lot," she said.

     "Get Jamie to slam into it," Trish said.

     "Not cool, dude," I said with an eye roll.

     "Actually..." Lil said. "It looks like the paint on the door," which was a hideous green, no less, "warmed up, melted to a degree, and dried again. So, I'll try to 'slam into it,'" Lil said in an almost scolding manner. That stupid paint just meant that she hadn't been to the cabin at all since last fall. That meant even more spiders than before.

     Great.

     She slammed into the door, which opened it... and also happened to break it off of its hinges. She and the door fell onto the ground.

     "Crud," Lil said. "At least the other door locks. Not saying we'll need for it to be locked."

     "No, lock it," Trish said, stepping over Lil. "Stan down the road is creepy."

     "Hey!" I shouted, pointing my finger at her intently, "you shut up about him. He's wonderful. Or else, your words be fightin' words!" Both of them looked at me quizzically. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I feel very strongly about Stan."

     "Whatever," Trish mumbled, before turning to Lil as she stood. "If we get changed, can you take us to the beach?"

     Lil brushed the dust off of herself.

     "Yes, I'll take you. Hurry up though, or those beach boys will be taken by the time we get there," she teased. Trish took her bags, and ran back into our shared room. I followed more slowly. I sat outside of the room, waiting for her to finish before I went in. She loved to wear bikinis. Quite frankly, she wasn't as insecure as I ever was. She wore brightly colored bikinis, and those circular sunglasses with the white frames. I, on the other hand, wore a one-piece bathing suit. Plain blue -- just the way I like it. When she and I go to the beach, or anywhere near water, Trish leaves her long blonde hair flowing, and I tie my dull brown hair back into the most pathetic looking ponytail.

     Aunt Lil got into her room. Trish left out room, in her bikini, and made her way to the bathroom. I sighed, and went into the room, which, no doubt, had cobwebs in every corner.

     Kudos, summer.