I Have Always Been Here (Part 7 of 7)

On Saturday she is a disembodied floating smile to the children whose interpretations of what genitals mean is still wide open. That being said, the water park is often the venue where people discover their terminal fascination with skin, and the exquisite architecture of the underside of her breasts alone has turned numberless future engineers into day laborers and day laborers into artists and artists into accountants. The regulation lifeguard bathing suits usually wear the employees more than the other way around, but her uniform practically does her grocery shopping. The park is old sometimes and many of the summers have few real water park days, so she finds creative ways to pass her time perched in a chair atop the water slide, which is carved into the natural rocky hills, suspended by metal pipe that has rusted into the color of pine bark. To arrive at the summit slide, one must navigate a trail that is imposed upon what should be an intimidating, jagged ravine, tamed with terraces of logs until they ran out of logs and started using pressure-treated railroad ties. Oh the splinters, the staph infections... The view is obscured by shrubs and boulders, so when she sees someone begin the trek, she slides her finger under her bathing suit and begins counting. By around 50 she reaches her second orgasm and knows to shift her gaze to a clearing and wait to see the children pass. Once she they do, she has at least 45 seconds to squeeze off what she can and adjust her smile. Her record is 8. She does not remember how this habit began, there has never been a time where she did not do this. Each session has grown indistinct apart from the incidences where she has been caught. This has happened 6 times, each by the rationalization that one more is worth the risk, and what's the risk? The kid won't understand anyway! When they arrive, however, and she quickly retrieves her hand and orientation, the reflexive shame is stamped on her flushed porcelain face. She feels guilty, then paranoid that the children will say something, then assurance bordering on self-righteousness that nobody would dare to accuse her of something so awful, but within 20 minutes she is on the edge of her seat, counting.