Page 108 of The Champion
Axel, my beautiful little four-year old son, was being alittle shit. He was upset that we didn’t bring his go-kart or his quartermidget so he insisted on being on his worst behavior.
Jameson had to tell him on more than one occasion thathe’d never race again if he didn’t straighten up but he insisted on being acomplete turd. We’d only been there five minutes when Jameson had to disciplinehim for throwing rocks at Logan. Not that I blamed him but still, Logan andAxel needed to learn that they couldn’t just do whatever they wanted.
With Axel and his behavior this weekend, Jameson and Iwanted him to have some balance and time away from racing from time-to-time butjust like Jameson, he wasn’t having it.
Instead, he was buzzing around on Lane’s dirt bike.
Lane headed in the opposite direction of the Riley boysand racing preferring two wheels to four.
Jameson may have had something to do with this as he wasconstantly riding his dirt bikes around our property in Mooresville. Lane soonpicked up on it. Right after he turned six, Spencer bought him one for hisbirthday and he’s been riding ever since.
So the kids stuck sticks in the fire, rode dirt bikes,swam in the lake and were just kids.
The adults, we drank. It was the only way to remainstable.
Even though there didn’t appear to be any cougars orbears, the bugs were another story. They were obnoxious. There were small ones,big ones, colorful ones, some the size of fucking birds, noisy ones...I feared for my skin and soon for my sanitywhen the itching began. I felt sorry for addicts who went through withdrawalsand wondered how in the world they didn’t take a grinder to their skin.
If I could have found one, I would have.
I must have lathered up with an entire bottle of calaminelotion while Jameson washed his skin obsessively like he would actually washaway the bites. It didn’t work and in the end, we itched.
“I don’t like this.” Jameson said conversationallyslapping away a bird-sized mosquito.
“Me either.” I took a drink of my beer peering down at myspeckled itchy skin. “There are so many bugs.”
“It’s Alabama. What did you expect?”
“So?”
“That’s all this state has besides peaches, is bugs.”
“Peaches are from Georgia.”
“Sway,” his eyebrow arched toward me. “they have peacheseverywhere.”
“I know that. I’m just saying that the termpeachesgoes with Georgia,” I scratched my forehead. “not Alabama. Just like apples gowith Washington and oranges go with Florida.”
“Does it really fucking matter?”
“Yes.”
He snorted and stood up. With a stretch, his back archedand he yawned running his hand through his hair and then down his jaw. Eyeingthe lake, he motioned with his head toward the direction of the lake. “I’mgoing for a swim.”
Alley started laughing beside me while lathering up Lexiwith sun block.
“I can’t believe Aiden thought this would be fun.” Shesaid only to me.
Emma was all about camping and couldn’t stop organizingand making our campsite homey, so god forbid we bad mouth the trip in front ofher.
I never got up from my little throne next to thecampfire. Hoping maybe the bugs would leave me alone, I realized by not moving,I attracted them like a florescent light.
Later that night, after dinner, Spencer and Aiden took allthe kids to go watch fireworks and that left Jameson and Ialone.
You can imagine how we made use of the time.
“You wanna get naked?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows atme.
“You know...sometimeswomen like romance.”
