East of the River

I met Carl in high school. He was my best friend then and he will always be that to me. He had transferred into our school during our senior year from a small town in upstate New York. His dad was a supervisor at the paper mill in town. His mom didn't work. She didn't have to because his dad was kind of a big shot at the mill. He wore a white shirt and necktie everyday to work and had to go to a lot of meetings. They lived in a big house on the edge of town.

Both of my parents worked at the mill, but they were just ordinary people. They didn't have to go to meetings, just show up for work. My mom worked in the office, doing payroll. Back then, everyone was paid in cash. She told me how she had to figure out how many single bills of ones, fives, tens and twenties she would have to get from the bank, just so everyone would get the right amount in each pay envelope—even the pennies had to be counted out. It was kind of tricky with no room for errors. It would take her all week to tally up all the time cards and then get all those envelopes ready for payday. She would be rolling over in her grave today if she could see how fast computers handle everything. Well, she would be out of job, too, just as all of the other mill workers are today.

My dad ran one of those giant machines that made facial tissues. He always said it was boring and the best part of the day was when the machine broke down and he could get a chance to fix something rather than just sit and watch it turn out miles of tissues. Every couple of months, he would have to change all of the rollers in the machine, and then, they would manufacture toilet paper for a couple of months after that. It's hard to believe facial tissue and toilet paper were made on the same machine, but they were.

The very first day that Carl arrived in school I was immediately attracted to him. He was tall and thin with red curly hair. He was cute and he had a great smile, but all the while I kept thinking about how I was going to get him to lose those thick tortoise shell eyeglasses that continually slipped down his nose. He was always pushing them back up on his face. It could have been a nervous habit, but it annoyed the hell out of me.

I remembered being one of the first ones to introduce myself to him. My hallway locker was only a few doors away from his and somehow we always managed to meet there in between classes and start talking.

"Hi, I'm Barbara. How do you like the school so far?" My eyes dropped from his to the combination lock; 36 right, 24 left, 36 right. Yah, I knew how to flirt way back then, too. The art of flirting comes natural to some people, and I'm one of them. My mother always told me, "Barbara, if you got it, flaunt it; just don't let your father catch you doing it."

"Hi, I'm Carl. I like the chemistry teacher, Mrs. Lyons. She's so ho . . ., I mean umm, she's nice. Yeah, she's nice. She's a great teacher." He was clearing stammering and stuttering over his words. I couldn't tell if I took him by surprise with my question, or if he was nervous talking to girls.

"Yeah, she is very nice. I had her for homeroom last year. She never cares if you're late," as I reached for the top button of my sweater and played with it for a few seconds before I unconsciously pushed it through the buttonhole to release the nervous heat building under it. The longer we stood together and talked, I felt the need to undo one more button, and then another, until finally the bell rang and it was time to get to the next class.

"See ya," I said and went on my merry way, but I could feel him watching me walk down the hallway. I new I had a wiggle and I knew when to use it.

It was the day before my eighteenth birthday when I finally worked up enough nerve to ask Carl to come to my party.

"Would you like to come to my birthday party tomorrow night?" I was so afraid of being turned down, I couldn't look up at him; 36 right, 24 left, 36 right. My insides were shaking and saying, "Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes." I was hoping that I wasn't saying that out loud as I twisted the dial on the lock.

"Sure. I'd love to go! Where's it going to be and what time does it start?" He was grinning from ear to ear. I think he was happy to finally connect to someone in his school.

"My house, any time after seven o'clock. I live in one of the mill houses downtown. I'll write the address for you. Oh, and bring your favorite records. We all like to dance," only it was my insides that were dancing and I'd have to get used to that feeling for many years to come. I know I was talking way too fast for him to understand anything, but he seemed to be taking it all in. He was still smiling at me and I couldn't have been any more excited about him wanting to attend the party. I was going to be eighteen the very next day and I skipped all the way home from school that day.

Carl was the first boy I had ever kissed. It's funny how you remember who your first kiss was from; it was kind of awkward. I remembered him saying it was a good way to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. He called it his kiss of approval. That was the same night I took off his glasses after I kept hitting them with my nose. It wasn't long after that when he ordered his first pair of contact lenses. His eyes were the deepest green and I remember his hands reaching deep into my jeans that night, too. But, I was a good girl and didn't want it to go much further than that and we soon returned to the party and the other guests.

Carl started to walk me home after school every day after he came to my party and sometimes we would walk down by the river next the mill. There were swans that nested on the little island out in the middle of the river. I would never finish my lunch and saved my sandwich so I could feed them when we got there. We would toss pieces of bread into the river and they would gracefully make their way through the current to gobble it down, submerging their long necks beneath the surface. In the spring of that year, there were six little baby swans following them. They were so cute and so excited to see us show up everyday with food. It was so interesting to see them change from those little ugly ducklings to those graceful swans. The red tail hawk must have gotten two of the babies because by the end of the summer there were only four cygnets remaining. The two parents, the cob and the pen, were snow white and their four offspring gradually turned gray during the summer months.

We could tell they were becoming accustomed to our feeding them. There were a few days when we arrived a little later than normal and they would be sitting on the bank of the river waiting for us. They weren't afraid of us any more, but as soon as they would eat the bread from my sandwich, they would turn and swim back to their little island in the middle of the river. They would sit on their island and turn to face us sitting on the bank of the river. Every once in awhile you could hear them honk as if to say, "Thank you."

It was pleasantly tranquil and quiet sitting on the side of the river. The river bank, down by the mill, soon became our spot. We would sit there for hours just talking about nothing sometimes, and sometimes about our future. Carl would always try to steal a kiss from me and sometimes, he would just take one. I remember the first time he asked me if he could look at my breast and I remembered being so shy about it. Slowly, I unbuttoned my white cotton blouse; all the while my fingers were shaking and fumbling with each one of the buttons. I had never shown anyone my breast before, not even my sister and we shared a bedroom with each other. He was the first one to see my nipple. Nervously, my hand reached in and removed it from where it had been nestled inside my white cotton bra. Seeing the look of surprise on his face that quickly turned to awe and admiration was quiet rewarding for me.

"Wow! Can I touch it, Barbara?" his hand was already reaching across my chest.

"I guess, if you want to," as I looked down to watch his hand lay gentle upon it. He closed his eyes for a second and a grateful sigh escaped from his lips. His hand was soft and his touch was gentle as he placed the nipple between his fingers. I could feel a bolt of electricity shoot throughout my body as my nipple began to harden and stand erect in the bright summer sunlight. He kissed me, but it was one of those new French kisses that we had been practicing. Soon, my other breast was removed from the bra and so wasn't the bra for that matter. Carl had never touched me before that day, except for dancing, and now I was almost naked sitting beside the river. I had no clothes on except for my little white cotton panties and I let him rub his hands between my legs and feel my mound beneath them. Quickly, his mouth made its way to my hardened nipple, racing from one to the other, and back to my waiting lips. He acted like he didn't know which to taste first.

"Gee, they're both the same. They're a lot softer than I had imagined, too. Everything is much softer. Your skin feels like silk," he glanced up at me with an appreciative look on his face, but I knew from the way my body was reacting to his tender touch we both wanted more than just fooling around on this giant boulder we had claimed as our love stone. That was the afternoon he picked up a small rock from the riverbed and carved a heart into the boulder and placed our initials into it.

I had forgotten about the swans with all of the heavy petting that had just taken place. Two of them had made their way across the river and were sitting on the bank quietly watching us. The bevy had grown from six to ten that summer, as all of them had quickly found mates. It felt so serene to sit back and listen to the gentle waves lapping on the shore, the frogs peeping, and the song birds singing in the trees. And, there was always the grace of the swans to watch swimming, gliding quietly in the water. Our spot by the river was about a quarter mile from the mill. Trees and overgrown shrubs and bushes separated us from the millworkers. It was our spot and no one ever knew we were there or what we were doing—kind of like peace on earth.

Carl and I were married late that summer. We didn't have any money; we didn't own anything for that matter. My parents let us move into their basement where we set up a makeshift apartment with a borrowed bed and dresser. We were happy. I had taken a job that same summer at the mill working in the office along with my mother, but I was the one who paid the invoices for the mill on the river in the accounts payable department. The mill had grown quite large just in my short life time, going from one hundred to five hundred workers and working three shifts. There was plenty of work for everyone in my small town.

Carl wanted to go to college, so he signed up for day classes in the local community college. He took a part-time job on the nightshift in the mill. Between his working at night and trying to get some study time in, we didn't see very much of each other for the first few years of our marriage. But it was okay; because we both had our future goals set to one day buy our own home and start a family. We soon had enough for a down payment for one of the mill houses. Carl was promoted to a supervisory position at the mill after his college graduation and it was just about a year after that when Carl Jr. was born. Life was good in my little town east of the river.

As a matter of fact, life was wonderful. It couldn't have been any better. We didn't have a care in the world; our bills were paid every month, we all had our health, and we were surrounded by our family and friends. We still managed to get down to the river every Sunday after church to feed the swans. His mom would watch the baby for a few hours so we could be alone for awhile every week. It was nice sitting on that rock to take in all the peacefulness that nature had to offer and sitting next to the one you love, made it even better. Every year there were new cygnets to feed and we would spend most of our time trying to figure out which one was the cob in the group by watching which one was the most aggressive. We were never certain because they all looked alike, but it was fun, nonetheless.

It was on our seventh anniversary when our lives changed. We hadn't made any special plans to celebrate our anniversary that year, but Carl felt we needed to acknowledge it somehow. So, he packed a picnic lunch for the two of us that morning and sent Carl Jr. off to his mother's for the day. It was another gorgeous, sun-soaked, August 15th. The temperature was going to soar to ninety degrees, again.

"C'mon. We're going down to the river to sit for awhile and relax. I have everything planned already and I've called work to tell them we won't be there today." He took my hand and pulled me toward the door.

"But, I have so much to do," I said without much conviction in my voice.

"We need to celebrate! Let's go. I have lunch all set with a bottle of wine packed and a whole loaf of bread for the swans." Carl always took care of all of the details. He took care of everything.

Within a few minutes we were down at the river's edge. The swans heard our approach long before they could see us appear through the thicket. They announced our arrival with their usual honks and wing display upon the water. We stood for quite a while tossing the bread into the river, occasionally seeing a fish or two leap for a morsel of bread before a swan could swim to it.

Carl had meticulously stretched out a blanket along the edge of the river. The river was always low this time of year which made us think we actually had a beach to lie upon. It was a little muddy, but the blanket kept us dry. We sat and enjoyed the fried chicken and potato salad he had packed. We sipped on the white wine and watched the swans return to their island. The bevy of swans was growing every year; so much so, they were getting more difficult to count.

The wine was making Carl feel frisky and it wasn't too much past noon when the two of us were making love on the river bank. We had never stripped completely at the river before that day. The wine seemed to make both of us a little crazy, a little more adventurous. I was always satisfied with our lovemaking romps, but this one took me by surprise in the open air with the sunlight on my back.

"Oh, Carl. What if someone from the mill sees us here?"

"Don't worry. No one is going to see you here. The trees have all leafed out. You can't even see the swans from my office window in the summer. I'm the only one who can see your sexy body and I love your sexy body, and your breasts, and your lips, and your neck," as his words trailed off to kisses being planted everywhere on me. We rolled over and he entered me, again. The two of us lay side by side on the blanket after that; spent and satisfied with our romp at the river.

The sun was beating down on parts of me that had never seen sunlight before today. I could feel my skin begin to burn.

"C'mon. Let's jump in the river and cool off." I took his hand and in we splashed like two school children at play, but we weren't school children any more. We were all grown up with real jobs, a son, and responsibilities. To be able to skinny dip on a hot summer day with no one around to watch was such a relaxing release of tension. We submerged our bodies in the cool water up to our necks, our heads bobbing up and down. We had never been eye level with the swans before that day and they seemed to be curious about what we were doing in the river, so they swam closer and encircled us almost as if to welcome us to their family. Carl held me and we kissed, all the while his hands were groping me beneath the muddy water. Every time we made love, I had the feeling our honeymoon would never end.

We walked out of the river and found ourselves back on the blanket, cooled and refreshed. Together, we finished off the bottle of white wine and munched on oatmeal cookies he had packed. We made love again, but after that we both fell sound asleep on the blanket. I had turned and fallen asleep with my back to the heat of the afternoon sunshine. Neither of us had heard the swans beach themselves on the river's edge to bask in the warmth of the sand. They had surrounded our blanket, their heads curled and tucked beneath their wings.

It was Carl who woke me with his blood curdling scream. I shook from head to toe, not knowing which way to turn. I had no idea what had happened. The swans all took off with the sounds of his screaming. Some rushed off into the river and others took flight with their wings creating a whoosh of downward air. They were all squawking and honking. I sat up quickly to see Carl sitting up beside me. He was screaming as if in pain. His hands cupped over his manhood. At first, I thought he might have been dreaming. At first, I thought I was dreaming and oh, how I wished that it was a dream or just a horrible nightmare. There was blood spurting everywhere. I had never seen so much blood. I had no idea where it was coming from, only I could see it was coming from beneath his hands, pulsing out between his fingers like a fountain.

"Oh, my God! What happened? What's the matter? What's bleeding?" I couldn't get the questions out fast enough as a stood and tried to get my clothes on as fast as I could. I picked up his shirt from the ground and tossed it to him.

"Here. Apply pressure with that. Why are you bleeding?" My legs were shaking. I didn't know what to do first.

"I dunno. I was sleeping, and then I felt something grab at my dick. Holy Christ! Look at this blood. It's everywhere. Barbara, what am I going to do? I don't think I can walk." He picked up the shirt to look and I bent down to peak at the same time. The end of his penis was missing.

"Okay. Calm down. We can get over to Doctor Mendelson's office in just a few minutes. Can you get up?" I always had a way of calming people down, but all of my tricks in the book weren't working on this situation. I took another deep breath and tried to help him to his feet.

"Jesus Christ! I can't go walking down the street like this. I'm naked for Christ's sake. One of those God damn swans pecked off my dick." He picked up the shirt to look again and mustered up enough strength to stand.

"I'll wrap the blanket around you. No one will see anything, but you have to make it over to the doctor's office so he can stop the bleeding. You keep pressure on it with your shirt. See if you can slip on your shoes. The pavement will be hot." I knew I would never be able to manage carrying everything and help him walk, so I tossed my stilettos into the picnic basket. I didn't want to stumble and would just have to put up with the heat beneath my feet.

We entered the doctor's waiting room in what seemed to be an hour later, but in essence, was just a few minutes after the vicious attack from the swan. Carl was pretty hunched over by the time we got there and the color was slowing draining from his face. He had already lost a lot of blood.

Doctor Mendelson rushed into the waiting room while the nurse called for an ambulance to get him to the hospital. Carl had collapsed on the floor of the empty room. The doctor had been in the army and had seen a lot of war injuries from flying shrapnel. He knew exactly what to do. The nurse continued applying pressure with mounds of clean gauze pads while the doctor started an IV. Carl came to when the doctor whispered something in his ear.

"You're going to be all right, Carl. In fact, you are going to be better than you were before. I know a great plastic surgeon that is going to make your wife happier, too." Doctor Mendelson patted him on the shoulder as they loaded him into the ambulance. I climbed into the back with him.