The Taste of Chicory Root

an excerpt

The night I lost my virginity was scorching.

It was August twenty-second and Jim Talbot finally got up the nerve to ask me out. Only thirteen days left before the end of summer vacation.

He worked as a lifeguard at the splash pad in the park. Some girls from school used to put on their bikinis and dance around with the little kids until a parent complained that wading pools weren’t made for girls with fully-formed breasts.

It wasn’t the most glamourous summer job. Even working the ice cream shop, like I did, was better. You could see who was holding hands and who was kissing who. But Jim didn’t particularly care.

The day he called me, some kid had gotten sick in the water.

“They closed the pool early,” he said. “So I was wondering if you’d like to, you know.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”

He picked me up in his Dad’s old station wagon. He parked with one tire up on the curb, but at least he had his license. When he got to my house, he pulled my phone out of my hand. “You won’t need this,” he said. “We’re going back to nature.” Weird. But kind of cute. “Grab your swimsuit and a towel.” I wasn’t used to this sort of take- charge attitude. Most guys I knew seemed terrified of me, or at least as scared as I was of them. While I ran back up to my room to get my suit, he handed my mom the phone.

“What if there’s an emergency?” Mom looked doubtful.
Jim said something about being a lifeguard, and that seemed to please her.

First stop was the gas station. We drove though the valley town, then up a steep hill. More trees.

“So where we going?” I asked.