The Moviegoer

aslant, thumb and forefingers propped along the iliac crest and lightly, propped lightly as an athlete. As the salt water dries and stings, she minds herself, plying around the flesh of her arm and sending fingers along her back.
    Down the beach the children have been roped off into two little herds of girls and boys. They wade—evidently they can’t swim—in rough squares shepherded by the deacons who wear black bathing suits with high armholes and carry whistles around their necks. The deaconesses watch from bowers which other children are busy repairing with saw grass they have gathered from the ridge.
    We swim again and come back to the tussock and drink beer. She lies back and closes her eyes with a sigh. “This really beats typing.” Her arm falls across mine and she gives me an affectionate pat and settles herself in the sand as if she really meant to take a nap. But her eyes gleam between her eyelids and I bend to kiss her. She laughs and kisses me back with a friendly passion. We lie embracing each other.
    â€œWhoa now, son,” she says laughing.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    â€œRight here in front of God and everybody?”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œSorry! Listen, you come here.”
    â€œI’m here.”
    She makes a movement indicating both her friendliness and the limit she sets to it. For an hour we swim and drink beer. Once when she gets up, I come up on my knees and embrace her golden thighs, such a fine strapping armful they are.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing, boy?”
    â€œHoney, I’ve been waiting three weeks to grab you like this.”
    â€œWell now that you’ve grabbed me you can turn me loose.”
    â€œSweetheart, I’ll never turn you loose.” Mother of all living, what an armful.
    â€œAll right now, son—”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou can turn me loose.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œListen, big buddy. I’m as strong as you are.”
    â€œNo, you’re not.”
    â€œI may not be as big as you are—”
    â€œYou are here.”
    â€œâ€”but I’m just as strong.”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œAll right, you watch here.” She balls up her fist like a man’s and smacks me hard on the arm.
    â€œThat hurts.”
    â€œThen quit messing with me.”
    â€œAll right. I won’t mess with you.”
    â€œHit me.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou heard me. Hit me.” She holds her elbow tight against her body. “Come on, boy.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? I’m not going to hit you.”
    â€œCome on hit me. I’m not kidding. You can’t hurt me.”
    â€œAll right.” I hit her.
    â€œNa. I don’t mean just playlike. Really hit me.”
    â€œYou mean it?”
    â€œI swear before God.”
    I hit just hard enough to knock her over.
    â€œGot dog.” She gets up quickly. “That didn’t hurt. I got a good mind to hit you right in the mouth, you jackass.”
    â€œI believe you,” I say laughing. “Now you come here.”
    â€œWhat for? All right now!” She cocks her fist again. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    â€œI just want to tell you what’s on my mind.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou. You and your sweet lips. Sweetheart, before God I can’t think about anything in the world but putting my arms around you and kissing your sweet lips.”
    â€œO me.”
    â€œDo you care if I do?”
    â€œI don’t care if you do.”
    I hold springtime in my arms, the fullness of it and the rinsing sadness of it.
    â€œI’ll tell you something else.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œSweetheart, I can’t get you out of my mind. Not since you walked into my office in that yellow dress. I’m crazy about you and you know it, don’t you?”
    â€œO me.”
    I sit back to see her and take her hands. “I can’t sleep for thinking of you.”
    â€œYou swear?”
    â€œI swear.”
    â€œWe made us some money, didn’t we?”
    â€œWe sure did. Don’t you want some money? I’ll give you five thousand dollars.”
    â€œNo, I don’t want any money.”
    â€œLet’s go down the beach a ways.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œSo they can’t see us.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter with them seeing us?”
    â€œIt’s all right with me.”
    â€œHo now, you