"Go Time" Chapter 2: RC Cola, DQ and Folsom Creek

We are all somebody's child and for me, my dad wasn't my only custodian, I was also raised by the turn table and the music gods: Johnny Cash, Elvis, and the Eagles. I had that peaceful easy feeling that I could handle anything that came my way. That was anything except maybe for Scarlet Robinson. The name fit, her beautiful red hair hang on one side of her shoulder and I often stared with frozen eyes and locked jaw. The best part about it was that she didn't know she was effervescent, she found joy in the small things, even a camouflaged grasshopper jumping out of a blade of grass would excite her. Scarlet lived down by Folsom Creek and Campbell and I would go fishing under the old Folsom bridge on those hot summer afternoons.

Scarlet was an only child and she endeared herself to Campbell as if he were a kid brother, but with me it was a friendship that was always on the verge of a first romance. She came down the ravine with three cans of RC cola swinging off its plastic holder. I was resting on a rolled up flannel under my head and Campbell was trying to catch crappie with his hands in the clear cold water. She put the drinks in the chilly water in a watering hole that was encircled by small slabs of concrete. The bridge was aging and parts of the foundation slowly stripped itself into the creek.

The water was unusually deep and became a dumping point for losers and litterers from up above. At least once a day, some jackass would drive by and throw out a bag of Dairy Queen garbage or a beer can. Acting as environmentalists, the three of us cleared it and cleaned it, heck Cambell or Campy started his own beer can collection tower under the bridge.

"Hi fellas!" Scarlet always called us fellas and Campy took a liking to be grouped with me even though I was three years older than him. I pretended not to hear as I kept my eyes closed underneath the suns high beams centered on my eye lids. Campbell, now that his speech cleared, had a few years of talking to make up and reacted to Scarlet. "Scar, watch me, I almost got one." He kept snapping his hands and making a splash, but the fish would elude him much of that afternoon. After she dropped the pop in the cold water, she wet her handkefchief, walked over to me and dropped its coldness on my shoulder. The cold opened my eyes and I let out a smile, but who could be angry for getting some relief from the great ball of fire in the sky.

Campy was all the time pulling up his jeans, they were baggy and loose on him and he could never find a belt. We had a roof over our heads; however leaky, but we were always one step ahead of real poverty. My hand me downs were never a problem for Campy, especially when he got to wear old tethered concert shirts that we'd come in contact with. That day he was wearing Lynard Skinner and as he went under the water to combat the heat, I couldn't imagine a free'r bird than him.

Author Notes: Background on coming of age story, part 2, meet Scarlet.

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