Where the Sun Beats

mmmnThere were no palm trees growing by the side of the road, no lofty cypress or high
willow branches to give a body shade from the sun. It was a barren, patchy old road
running west from town, that ducked under the highway and ran up the levee before
coming to an end at the swamp. There at the swamp was a good fishing place. As Eli
shuffled in the dust in the hot afternoon, thin white clouds rising under his sneakers, he
wondered if the day would bring rain. He looked up at the sky, back over his shoulder, and
down to the muddied canal that ran beside the road, but there was only the punishing sun.
mmmn"Hot," Eli said. He had a jug in one hand and a pole slung over his shoulder while
Johnny, his fishing pole held out like a swordsman, lunged at the dragonflies that swooped
and buzzed about his head.
mmmn"Never been so hot," said Johnny.
mmmnEli slipped down the grade of the canal and crouched where the water lapped at the
bank, the murky water clouding the reflection of his sunburned cheeks. Two miles back
near town, starting along the old road, he had longed for the shade of the bridge where the
highway crossed the canal before everything came to the swamp. Now just ahead he could
see a rig roar over the bridge and blow a long, black stream from its stack, then haul south
past a sign that read "Miami 45 miles". Eli snuffed his nose.
mmmn"I would give anything for a rain cloud to move in."
mmmn"Not me," said Johnny. "He was strong and broad beside Eli's taller, scrawnier
form. "Rain brings out the mosquitoes. One thing I hate about the swamp, all the damn
mosquitoes."
mmmnEli pulled off his shirt and dipped it into the canal. "You can slap a mosquito," he
said. He stood back from the water, wrapping the shirt on his shoulders. "Can't fight the
sun."
mmmnJohnny raised his pole up toward the sky. "I'll fight the sun," he jabbed.
mmmnLooking back along the barren road, then ahead toward the bridge, Eli knew that it
had been a mistake to come. The fishing would not be good; they would only stay out of
the sun in the shade of the bottom weeds.
mmmn"Let's go," said Johnny. "Too hot to stand around now."
mmmnThe boys followed the bank to where it ran under the highway and ducked into the
shade, settling against the sandbags that piled up from the water.
mmmnThe bridge was wide and low and because the highway ran on in two directions,
north and south along the edge of the swamp, it was rather two bridges set side by side. In
between there was an open space where the sun beat down, a shaft of light separating the
shadows, and here the smells of passing traffic would creep down from above. In the shade
of the farther bridge Eli could see a man lying stretched out on the sandbags, a bamboo pole
laid by at his side. The brim of the man's hat hid his face, but by his bare feet, which rested
nearly in the water, Eli could see that it was Cal. His skin was so brown and furrowed that
it resembled the bark of a tree.
mmmn"That's a good idea," said Eli. He raised the jug to his lips and took a long swallow
of water. "We can nap in the shade until it cools off a little."
mmmnJohnny was quiet, his eyes toward the water.
mmmn"I don't want to get burned," said Eli.
mmmnJohnny crept down to the canal, steadying his hand out over the water. With one
quick movement he struck at the surface.
mmmn"Andy Powell was burned last week and he had to…."
mmmn"Hah!" shouted Johnny. Holding out his hand he grinned proudly. Four minnows
flopped gape-mouthed in his wet palm. Settling back against the sandbags, taking Eli's jug,
he tilted his head back and poured the water down his face. "Did you come out here to fish.
Or to complain about the weather?"
mmmnEli looked to where the shadows vanished beyond the far side of the bridge.
mmmn"We haven't been out here for weeks," said Johnny. "And besides," he motioned to
Cal snoring in the hot shade. "He's just too old for this heat."
mmmnA truck rumbled over the bridge and the smell of exhaust crept down with a stale
breeze. Eli snuffed his nose. The bridge offended him for all of its noise and unnatural
smells, but sitting there now, the sandbags cool and soft, he was thankful for the shade.
Sitting at the levee with his pole, listening to the sounds of the glades, a duck's honking, an
alligator's drone; this was his refuge from the commotion of the town. Here he could lose
himself in the wetland. Silently he hoped the day would make light traffic, but as he did
another truck rumbled overhead and he suffered a sudden waft of diesel fumes. The boys
took up their poles and continued under the bridge, following the bank toward the rocky
slope of the levee.
mmmn"I'll bet we'll be able to see the golf course from up here," said Johnny. He started
up the levee taking long, leaping strides. "They finished draining the land last week and
now they're laying down dirt and digging the traps. Soon they'll start trucking in sand." He
neared the top and looked north. "Yup," he pointed. "There it is."
mmmnEli followed slowly, keeping his eyes steady against the ridge of the levee. Just over
the crest was a shallow fresh pool that headed a river, feeding the swamp like a great
capillary for miles ahead. As the slope came up and began to fall away the wetland rose,
endless islands of trees clumped in the clear-cutting streams, waters that slithered like
moccasins through miles of sawgrass. For an instant Eli was taken in by the scene.
mmmn"So much land," he said coming up.
mmmn"Sure," said Johnny. "Eighteen holes and a clubhouse, and homes all along the
fairway. In the winter when it's not so hot I'm going to be a caddy and learn to play."
mmmnEli looked north. Where Johnny was pointing the levee had been leveled and
pushed back further into the swamp. Low over the wetland hung the exhaust fumes of the
machines that were digging and laying dirt. Crews of men were hard at work driving the
shovels, draining the land. Not long ago the same crews had worked for many months on
the construction of the highway. A truck rumbled over the bridge and blew its stack. Eli
snuffed his nose, catching a faint whiff of something rotten. He turned back toward the
glades.
mmmn"What's that smell?"
mmmn"I don't smell," Johnny paused. A weak, low gust of wind came in off the swamp
and carried the scent up the levee, down the other side to where the boys were nearing the
top. Eli tore the shirt from his shoulders and used it to cover his face.
mmmn"Ugh," he said.
mmmnMoving further up the levee the boys saw what it was. The pool where they often
fished had dried, and nothing remained there but a heap of large rocks. Between the rocks
puddles of mud jumped and splattered, bursting at the air as if the earth had come to a boil.
The hundreds of fish that were trapped in the mud were mostly dead, but the living
slithered and squirmed in anguish, fighting each other for the last drops of wetness. A
dozen sharp-nosed turtles, some buried within their shells and others with their heads
hanging limp in the mud, all lay dead. In a few spots the earth was cracked and dried. The
flies were buzzing.
mmmn"What's happening?" Eli said, his shirt to his face.
mmmn"The rocks must have been dumped when they built the highway."
mmmn"But all the water."
mmmn"Dried up," said Johnny. "Into the glades. Looks like we need a storm pretty bad."
He stepped forward from the crest and crept down toward the rocks. Under his feet stones
crumbled and rolled down the steep slope. Carefully he stepped from the levee to a rock
and dipped his pole into the mud.
mmmn"What are you doing?" said Eli.
mmmnJohnny fumbled his pole around in the mud, jerking up quickly without a snag.
Dipping his pole again, he fumbled around and jerked, this time hooking a wriggling fish.
He climbed back up the slope of the levee, and checking the hook said, "Ack, Gar. There's
got to be some catfish down there somewhere." Taking the fish off the hook, he dropped it
into the dust, stomping down and smashing its head with his foot. Eli looked at him.
mmmn"Delany Rudd gives twenty-five cents a pound for catfish at his store," said
Johnny. "There's got to be one down there somewhere."
mmmn"Come on," Eli said. It smells awful and I'm burning. Let's get under the bridge."
mmmnJohnny ignored him and moved back down the slope.
mmmnEli snuffed his nose. The dead fish lay wide-eyed at his feet, looking up at him. He
kicked it and it rolled down the opposite side of the slope. Turning back west to gaze out
over the glades, the other fish flopping and squirming in the warm mud, he realized that it
would take many days of good rain for the water to rise again above the rocks. He
felt sick, again beginning to brood over the skin of his shoulders. To the east he could not
see the town from so far out. Looking north, though, he could see the exhaust fumes of the
machines that were digging and laying dirt. The clouds in the sky were few and light.
mmmnSuddenly there was a scuff from behind and Eli turned to see Cal duck out from
under the bridge, his bamboo pole in one hand, and a jar of water dangling by a string in
the other. Beneath his straw hat the hard grooves of his face told of years under the sun. He
moved slow and hunched, like an old beaten dog.
mmmn"Aft'noon," Cal nodded up at Eli.
mmmn"Afternoon," said Eli, his shirt to his face.
mmmn"How they bitin?"
mmmn"Not so good," said Eli.
mmmn"Figures," said Cal. "Too durn hot." He shuffled up to the foot of the slope and
stood looking down at the dead fish. "You know when I don't want em I just throw em
back," he said. Kicking the gar into the canal, he shuffled up the levee and past Eli, and at
the crest he looked down at the rocks with a grim look of defeat. "Naw," he said, digging
his fingers beneath his hat. "It don't look so good at all."
mmmnEli could feel his shoulders burning but to take the shirt away from his face would
mean that awful smell. He walked down the slope and crouched at the canal, wetting the
shirt to wrap his shoulders. When he turned back Cal was standing with his hands to the
brim of his hat, gazing out into the distance of the swamp. His silhouetted figure,
high against the sun, appeared as a scarecrow before the glades, as if a wooden sign should
be hung from his neck. Eli moved into the old man's shadow to look up at him.
mmmn"How long have you been coming out here, Cal?"
mmmn"Long time, I reckon," he said looking out. "Since I was just a boy 'bout your age."
He shook his head. "I ain't never knowed it to be dry as this."
mmmn"You think a rain is coming anytime soon?"
mmmnCal pulled his jar up by the string, unscrewed the cap, and took a short swallow.
"Naw," he said. "No rain comin. In all my years I never knowed it to be dry as this." He
lowered the jar, wiping his lips. "Course then there weren't no such hill and not even much
of a town back that way." He turned slowly to look back east. "Sure as heck warn't no big
dang highway runnin through."
mmmnJust then Johnny appeared over the crest and came up beside Cal, holding on his
hook a catfish nearly the size of his head. He greeted Cal and lifted the fish for Eli to see.
"Good ten pounds," he grinned proudly.
mmmnA stale gust of wind came in off the glades. Eli cringed at the air. Quickly he
brought his shirt to his face.
mmmn"Come on," said Eli. "It smells awful."
mmmnThe old man turned back toward the swamp, nodding his head. "That's what dead
smells like," he said. "And if the weather don't change you might should get used to it." He
removed his hat to reveal his bald, brown head. "People round here ain't no better than
termites, but I reckon you boys ought to learn it soon enough. I reckon a dead tree don't
give no shade." He cleared his throat and spat into the dust. "For as long as I been fishin
this swamp here I never knowed it to be dry as this. But I came out here and aim to get me
a catch. You boys have a nice aft'noon. Don't stay out too long." Refitting his hat, and
with his bamboo pole slung high over his shoulder, Cal shuffled down the other side of the
slope and disappeared into the glades.
mmmnJohnny looked down at Eli. "Well, he said. "What do you want to do?"
mmmnEli turned back toward the bridge.
mmmn"Come on," said Johnny. "It's no good just standing here."
mmmnThey ducked under into the shade where the sandbags were cool and soft. Eli
settled back and took a long swallow of water, then leaned back with his arms folded
behind his head, watching the reflections of the water as they danced on the ceiling. A truck
rumbled overhead and a soft wind picked up, whining faintly as it channeled under the
bridge.
mmmnAfter a short while Johnny said," We ought to head back."
mmmnEli was quiet, considering the old road. "I'm tired," he said. "And it's too hot to
walk now. I was thinking that maybe we could stay here in the shade just relaxing, and
walk back later when it cools off a bit."
mmmnJohnny held up his fish. "I want to get back to town to Rudd's store," he said. "I
want to get the money for the fish."
mmmn"Let it sit in the water," said Eli. "You can sell it later."
mmmnJohnny said nothing, gazing along the road.
mmmn"Sun's too strong," said Eli. "Stupid to head back now."
mmmnJohnny sat silently for a moment. Finally he said, "I'm going to sell this fish and
then I'll come back."
mmmnEli lay there and glanced at him sideways. "You're going to come back?"
mmmn"Yeah," said Johnny. "You stay here and I'll sell the fish and come back."
mmmn"What's the hurry?"
mmmnJohnny's lips parted but nothing came.
mmmn"All right," said Eli. "Go and get your money. I'm just going to stay here until it
cools off."
mmmnJohnny was silent for a moment, then said, "If I'm not back in an hour don't bother
to wait. But if you want, if Rudd will pay us for another fish, we'll come back tomorrow."
He crouched at the canal to soak his shirt and ducked out into the shade, kicking up thin
white clouds as he tramped onto the road. Eli watched him disappear toward the town,
thinking that later he might rise and climb back up the levee to watch the dusk come over
the swamp, just sit for a while to watch the daylight settle over the wetland. The vastness,
the seeming endlessness; this about the glades had always pleased him. He would
not be coming back tomorrow. Closing his eyes he tried to nap but every few moments a
truck would pass over the bridge and the smell of exhaust would come between the
shadows where the sun broke through. Lying there under the bridge he wondered when it
would rain again and hoped that it would rain soon and hard and for many days.

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