Hotter'n a Steam Iron

The sun beat down like a fist pummeling the land and everything on it. Children ran through sprinklers on lawns; neighborhood swimming pools were warmer than a bath. Sweat dripped from Dale’s brow while he hung the fairy lights around the new deck. Debbie brought him a beer, sweat from the bottle pooling around the lip of the coozie, emblazoned with the letters UGA.

“What time is everyone coming?” She asked, perching on the deck rail in cutoffs and a halter top that tied in the back.

“Jimmy says he’ll be here around four to set up the amps.” Dale answered, accepting the beer and downing a third of it. “Lisa’s still out of town, right?”

Their dog, a mutt from Jimmy’s bitch’s last litter, panted in the shade, tongue hanging out, sweat dripping on the grass. Debbie hopped down and said, “I think so. Poor Bandit’s parched.” She disappeared through the sliding glass doors into the cool cavern of the house.

She reappeared a couple of minutes later, carrying a mixing bowl full of water, stumbling down the steps and sloshing the water on the ground.

“Honey, you reckon I should put the volleyball net up?” Dale gestured toward the level lawn beyond the deck.

“Oh, hell yeah.” Debbie nodded.

Dale wiped a river of sweat off his forehead and fanned himself with his t-shirt. “Maybe we should hook up the slip ‘n slide. It’s hot as fuck.”

“I could run up to the Walmart and get one a them blow-up pools to put at the end. I need to get ice anyway. And maybe more cups. Who all’d you say’s comin’?” Debbie held her beer against her face.

When the party guests started arriving, Dale and Debbie were soaked with sweat, trying to keep the volleyball net from collapsing. The last rain was so long ago that the stakes couldn’t get purchase in the crumbling earth.

Debbie put out the crockpot with her famous buffalo chicken dip and some bags of chips, the vinegar-tinged scent of the hot sauce filling the air.

“Jesus, it’s hot!”

“So damn hot I’m gettin’ boiling water outta the garden hose.”

“Y’all quitcher bitchin’ and put your bathin’ suits on. Dale hooked up the slip ‘n slide.”

The women piled into the master bedroom of the double wide, and littered the bed with clothes. Everyone had their suits under their clothes. Who wouldn’t in this godawful heat?

“Did y’all spike a melon?”

“Yeah, Dale duct taped it to a tree and put a spout in it after he mixed in the Everclear with his drill.”

“Hell yeah! Let’s get this party started!”

“Y’all know they’re gonna hook up Jimmy’s amps on the deck. Live music, y’all!”

“As long as they don’t let Jimmy sing! Talk about off-key.”

The bikini-clad women grabbed cups and filled them from the melon, reassembling in the inflatable pool, which promptly sprang a slow leak.

“Dump some ice in here, Debbie! It ain’t even coolin’ us off.”

“Just get Shannon to spread her legs, if she remembers how!” Jimmy hollered from the deck. “Heat kicks on at the house every time there’s a gap between her knees.”

“Fuck you, Jimmy!” Shannon stood up and drained her cup. “Like there’s anything between your legs worth spreading mine for, asshole!”

“Shoulda taken that car for a test drive before you bought it, Shannon.” Lisa strolled across the deck and grabbed a beer out of the cooler.

“Oh, shit. Shit’s gonna get real with Lisa here.”

“Jesus fuck, Dale. Why don’t you have one a those misting fans out here? Or get a real pool? Even Shannon’s sweating.”

“Think you can manage to keep your top on, Lisa?”

“Why? Still jealous?” Lisa pushed the triangles of spandex farther apart to show more cleavage.

“Do you even have tan lines, Lisa? Where’ve you been, a nude beach?”

“All beaches are nude beaches if you don’t overdress.”

Bandit came tearing out of the house, nearly knocking Lisa into the open 120 quart cooler.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Lisa. Take it off!” Jimmy pulled the string around her neck.

She swatted him away. “Hands off, motherfucker. I say when, not you.” She cast her eyes on the amps and speakers. “Looks like we’re in for another night of ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and .38 Special covers.” She rolled her eyes so hard it almost knocked her off balance.

“Do you ever clock out from being a bitch, Lisa?”

“Why? Is it time for your shift?”

“Who’s playing volleyball? Four to a side,” Dale spun the ball on his thumb and cracked open another Bud. “And somebody needs to get on joint-rolling duty so I can even out my buzz. Not you.” He pointed at Jimmy. “Nobody wants one of your pinners this early. We need a hog leg to kick this off.”

Debbie climbed out of the pool. “Looks like I’m up. How many you want me to roll, honey?”

“Depends on who else is throwing in.”

“Hey, Debbie,” Mark called from the top of the hill, “is your cousin coming?”

“Why? You already burn through your ‘shine?”

Only Mark could land a wink from a third of a football field away. “Maybe.” He backed up a few steps, then took off running, yelling, “Geronimo!” as he dove onto the yellow plastic, sliding down like an avalanche into the pool, landing between Gina’s legs.

“While you’re down there . . .” Gina leaned back and sipped her drink.

Mark put his head in the water and blew bubbles at her. “There’s a teaser for you. Find me later to finish the job.”

“Mark, you always were a cunning linguist,” Lisa said. “I’ll take another spin on that merry-go-round if Gina isn’t calling dibs.”

“Is there a merry-go-round you haven’t ridden, Lisa?” Jimmy held up his beer for a toast that didn’t happen.

“You know those signs at the fair, Jimmy? The ‘you have to be this big to ride’ signs? I’ve got the same policy: if you’re not big enough, I ain’t ridin’. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I’m not the one who’s still single.”

“No, you married the most frigid bitch you could find. Remind me how many kids y’all have.”

Shannon jumped out of the pool and ran into the house, crying.

“Fucking great, Lisa. Couldn’t even finish a beer without tearing into her? She’ll be on a crying jag all night now.” Jimmy shot her the dirtiest look in his arsenal and got up to follow Shannon into the house.

“Oh, please. What else is fucking new? Name one party when she hasn’t spent half the night crying in the bathroom! Jesus, last time at Mark’s, everyone had to cop a squat outside because of her sensitive ass. I would say cry me a river, but we all know she will.”

“Damn, Lisa. How ‘bout you stick to throwin’ them above the belt? That shit was unnecessary.”

“It’s too fucking hot to play make believe. I don’t have the patience for that shit today. Get real, or get the fuck out.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be so fucking mean.”

“I’m not being mean. I’m just saying what none of y’all have the balls to say. That bitch is always playing victim. She needs to grow up.”

Gina hopped out of the pool and came to Lisa on the deck, hopping from one foot to the other as the slats burned her feet. “Come inside with me.” She grabbed Lisa’s arm and dragged her into the kitchen.

When they came back, Lisa was a bit chastened. “How the fuck was I supposed to know about that?” She asked the group at large. “Fine, I’ll apologize if it’ll make y’all feel better. Shit. I need a shot.”

A car started in the driveway, and a blue Honda Civic backed out, caught a wheel, and took off.

“Fucking great, Lisa. Shannon left.” Jimmy stormed back onto the deck.

“Why don’t you follow her? Then we can have a real party.”

“Fuck you, Lisa. She took the fucking car. I’m stuck like Chuck.”

“I was going to apologize, but she took off like a cat in a lake.”

Debbie came back with a joint in each hand. “What’d I miss? Thought I heard a car leaving.”

“Who’s missing, Nancy Drew?”

“Oh, shit. Lemme guess—it was something Lisa said.”

“Not on purpose. Anyway, if that bitch can’t run with the big dogs, she should keep her ass under the porch.”

“Lisa—“

“She’s not wrong. It woulda been something else if Lisa hadn’t pushed her buttons.” Dave called from the watermelon tree. “Might as well get the inevitable over early.”

“Thank you, Dave.” Lisa hit the joint, then continued, “anyway, Jimmy started that shit, not me.” She hit the joint again.

“True dat. Stop bogarting and pass that over here. I thought we were gonna play volleyball. And put some music on, for fuck’s sake. I thought this was a party,” Gina said from the pool.

“Fuck you, y’all will get it wet. Walk your ass over here if you want to hit it.” Lisa passed it to Dale.

Dale tapped his phone a few times, and Van Halen filled the air. “Did y’all know Eddie originally wanted to be a drummer?”

“Yes, you’ve told us about a billion times. We’re totally impressed that you read an article in Rolling Stone twenty years ago,” Holly spoke up for the first time. “Who’s on my team? We’re not playing guys against girls. Even teams, goddamnit.”

“Mark and Dale can’t be on the same team.”

“Hey, dude. We’re legendary—striking fear in the hearts of all competitors. I bet we could take Kerri Walsh and Misty May!”

“As if! Being the champions of backyard volleyball hardly makes you Olympic athletes.”

Mark, Holly, Gina, and Dave took one side of the net, and Lisa, Dale, Debbie, and Jimmy took the other. Two more cars pulled up, and the pool and slip ‘n slide got so much activity they had to refill the pool, now littered with grass.

“Interference!” Holly called, missing her shot as Bandit bounded into the yard to chase the ball.

“You know the rule! Somebody get the funnel!”

“Fuck. I’ll be drunk as Cooter Brown and a nine-eyed goat before the sun goes down if you bust out that funnel now.”

“You’re the one who called interference, and a rule’s a rule.”

“Ten bucks says she ends up with more beer on her than in her. Holly never could funnel a beer.”

“Can I call a proxy?” Holly held up the funnel when it landed in her hands.

“Call whatever you want, but somebody on that side of the net needs to funnel one so we can keep this game going.”

One of the newcomers barreled down the hill into and out the other side of the pool, crashing into Holly, Mark, and Dave as they poured the beer into the funnel.

“Y’all watch out. Holly, you gonna call interference on the funnel?”

“Maybe. Y’all turn it up. They’re playing Debbie’s song.”

The opening drums of “Hot for Teacher” brought all of the guys to the deck.

“I’d tell them to quit, but I fucking love it,” Debbie said after they all yelled, “I don’t feel tardy!”

“I still can’t believe they let Debbie Does It All shape young minds.”

“That’s right, bitches. And summers off!”

A mud-crusted Silverado pulled up, stereo blasting, and a collage of twentysomethings in various states of summer dress piled out of the cab and bed and came around the side of the double wide to the deck, straight to the coolers.

"Debbie!" Andy called across the yard. "Get your ass down here!"

Debbie elbowed Mark and said, "Andy's here." Then she took a running start and flew down the slip 'n slide into the pool, coming up with stray blades of grass in her hair and clinging to her skin.

Debbie gave Andy a full-body hug, soaking his shorts and t-shirt.

"If it wasn't so fucking hot, I'd whip your ass for that."

"But it is so fucking hot, and you're lucky you're still welcome here after last time."

Andy sipped the beer he just opened. "Yeah, sorry bout that. You reckon I should apologize or just let it lie?"

"No worries, Lisa already made her run home crying."

Andy looked at Debbie over the top of his sunglasses. "Is Lisa here? This party just got better. Mmm, where is she?"

Debbie pointed to the top of the hill, where Lisa was dancing while she waited for her turn on the slip 'n slide.

"Damn. I got it bad for her, cuz. Think you can hook me up?"

"Nah, man. Lisa doesn't tolerate any matchmaker shit. You just gotta get in there and go for it. Get in the pool so she lands on you when it's her turn."

Andy nodded and headed across the lawn. "No wonder they let you teach. You always were the smart one in this famdamnily. You oughta fill that pool up with jello for some bikini rasslin'."

"You wish! Who's this crew you're rolling with today?"

"Aw, you know Toby and his old lady, Becca. Them other chicks are Becca's bitch brigade, and most a them are shacked up with Toby's dudes. They travel in a pack, like wolves or some shit."

Andy peeled off his t-shirt on his way down to the pool.

"Y'all lucky this thing's too shallow for a cannonball. Slide over, chief. When the sun goes down, I might even break out a jar." Andy wedged himself between Mark and Gina to put himself in prime position to catch Lisa.

“Hell, yeah!” Mark slid over for Andy. “Hey, Gina, there’s room on my lap for you.”

Gina had been hoping Mark was actually interested in her instead of just flirting, and she scooted around Andy onto Mark’s lap and went for the foolproof option. “Will you put suntan lotion on my back? I don’t want to get burnt.”

Mark put an arm around her, resting his hand on her thigh. “Hell, I’d rather do your front, but I guess I gotta start somewhere.”

They climbed out of the pool and onto the deck. Gina sat down on the bench but popped back up immediately.

“Shit, it’s so hot that burned my ass!”

“I got you, baby.” Mark sat down, his wet trunks dissipating the heat from the built-in bench. He patted his thighs. “Come to Papa.”

Lisa took three steps back to get a running start, but she was on her second cup from the watermelon, and she hadn’t missed a single pass of the joint, and she half-missed the strip of yellow plastic, sliding down the lawn and crashing into the side of the pool. Half her body was covered in grass.

As she stood up, she said, “Fuck. I aimed for the middle one.” Then she plopped down in the pool to rinse the grass off.

She looked up at Mark and Gina and yelled, “Get a room!”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Gina retorted. “At least I never—“

“Shut the fuck up, Gina, unless you want me to talk about—“

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me and see!” Lisa stood up and immediately slipped, landing on Andy’s lap.

Andy caught her, but fell backwards from the impact, and a flood of water poured over the side.

“Maybe we should get you something to eat, sweet cheeks. Otherwise, you’re not going to make it.” Andy stood up and guided Lisa inside.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Toby yelled when Dale unhooked the hose from the slip ‘n slide to refill the pool.

“Chill, man. You’ll get your turn in a minute.” Dale shook his head, then lifted the hose and sprayed it on Mark and Gina. “If y’all don’t cool it, you’re gonna set the damn deck on fire.”

Holly and Debbie disappeared into the house to fill water balloons. Debbie dragged two empty plastic storage bins into the kitchen, and they filled balloons at the sink until both were full. Then Debbie opened about a dozen two-pack plastic water pistols, and they filled them, too.

“Here, let’s put ‘em under the table. No one will even notice.” Holly pushed the heavy bin across the floor.

“Perfect!” Debbie scooped up some chicken dip on a tortilla chip and popped it in her mouth. “Let’s smoke a joint in here where it’s cool.”

Twenty minutes later, they were lying on the couch, laughing their heads off at a South Park rerun.

Da-da-da-dadda-da rang out from the deck.

“Oh, shit. Do we have to? It’s so fucking hot out there.” Holly sat up.

“Yeah, we gotta. No sitting out on the Electric Slide. You know the rule.”

“Fine, fuck it. Let’s go.” Holly stood up and pulled Debbie up.

They made their own line on the deck. When they made the turn, they saw Becca and her crowd in two lines on the top of the hill, and Andy and Lisa bumping into each other in the pool.

The sun began to sink in the west, turning the sky more orange than a Clemson-Tennessee game, and the neighbors started walking over.

“Hey, Dale, maybe you should light the grill,” Bubba said, spitting a jet of tobacco juice in the dirt.

“Oh, hell no. It’s still too damn hot. There’s food inside on the table.”

Jimmy’s phone rang, and Debbie said, “You better answer it! Lettin’ it ring’s like tryin’ to put out a fire with kerosene.”

Jimmy picked up and ducked into the house, responding to the diatribe pouring out of his iPhone. “Well, honey, you took the car. . . .”

When Jimmy came back outside, a smudge of chicken dip on his chin, he said, “Y’all reckon you can behave? Shannon’s comin’ back.”

“Hey, you think she’ll go on a beer run?” Andy asked. “Those coolers are gettin’ low, and I’ll buy if she’ll fly.”