scullymulder1234
Cadet
Inticing start....I know I'm going to love it, already....
Wonderful job!
Wonderful job!
That Summer
- Thread starter SkyGirl5
- Start date
SydneyVaughn47
Cadet
so sad
cant wait for more!!
cant wait for more!!
lady alias
Cadet
I'm curious to know what happened to them that summer??? 
Great start!!
Great start!!AliasSydney502
Cadet
oooo interasante.
i would stay up till you update, but thats a ways away.
i would stay up till you update, but thats a ways away.
SkyGirl5
Cadet
its a little slow to start but i promise it gets more interesting
Chapter 1
I grew up in the deep south; the deep, deep south as in the place that should practically be declared its own country because it’s so different than the rest of the US of A. Down there, in Alabama to be exact, typically either one of two things happened to a person as they were growing up: they either knew right from the start that the moment that high school diploma was put in their hand they were outta there forever, for good (except maybe returning for a holiday or two) or they never wanted to leave because it was their home and it got under their skin, the way those great southern towns can, for those that enjoy them anyway. There was, however, a third thing that happened to some people, like to me. Those people wanted to leave desperately, but were trapped there because of something, or, usually, someone. Even more usually that someone was a girl. It wasn’t in my case, though. Well, in a way I guess it was, but I called this girl Mama.
Since my daddy was the way he was, I was all my mama had, so I couldn’t leave her. She’d look at me with her brown eyes in that motherly way that she’d be begging me without even begging and I was stuck; I couldn’t go. After I graduated high school I went on to college in Birmingham, only a few hours away. Then, once I received my degree, I returned to Liberty to stay, but I guess I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself.
Liberty, Alabama, where I was born and raised, is about as small a small town as you’d ever find. It has exactly one street, not surprisingly called Main Street, and on that street was… well, just about everything. Big Jesse’s Barber Shop, now owned by Little Jesse (Big Jesse’s son), but still the social center of the town; Dobson’s Market, a combination pharmacy, diner and grocery store and pretty much the only place to purchase food within the town’s borders; and, of course, Liberty K-12, home to kindergarten through twelfth grade and only about two hundred students in all.
Being part of the deep south, our town had exactly one of all those things, and most any other type of store that existed there, but lining Main Street there were a total of three churches, two of them Baptist and one of them some sort of nondenominational. Most every family in Liberty attended one of those churches at least once a week (though for a great number of families it was usually more than once), except my family, that was. I don’t think I ever set foot in one of those churches, but that’s another story for another time.
My childhood isn’t something I like to think about very much; it wasn’t a happy time for me. Well, part of it was, but that part was a lie, you see, so it no longer is happy to me. My daddy being the way he was taints all memories I have of that time, at least, of my home life. What I do remember most were the summers.
Back then, not very many people in the town had air conditioning in their houses. Liberty wasn’t a very well-off town. We weren’t close to living in poverty by any means, we just weren’t overly wealthy. Not having air conditioning was quite unfortunate for most of the days out of the summer. If you’ve lived down there or visited, you’ll know what I mean, but if not, I’ll try to explain.
Summers in the south are like summers no place else. For starters, the air is thick with humidity, so thick that it feels like the meringue atop a lemon pie; it feels like you can’t even move through it. The air sticks to your skin along with your shirt and pants causing you to always feel as though you need a shower, even if you just took one. The sun would beat down on you too, hard. If you bought an ice cream cone from Dobson’s and took it outside you either had to eat it so fast that it gave you one of those terrible headaches or you’d be licking it off your arm within seconds.
Lucky for me though, my house had air conditioning, which meant it was a central hang out for kids in my grade. You see, there was only about twenty kids in my grade, which meant we were a real close-knit bunch, having spent out entire lives together. We were friends with the kids in the grades above and below us, too and we all spent the summers together, running outside when we could and sitting on a shaded porch, sipping cool drinks, when it got too hot.
Growing up, my best friend was James Powers. When I was in the fourth grade his family moved into the house across the street from mine and we immediately became inseparable. In school, we rose to the top of the social hierarchy as we grew older and soon everyone knew us to be the kings of the school. James doesn’t live here anymore, though. He was one of those who knew he had to get out of our small hick town the moment he moved into it, even if he did enjoy his school existence. He only stuck around for a month after graduation before going to some fancy law school up north; he’s never been back here either, but that’s okay I suppose.
Anyway, James, me and all our friends would spend summers at my house. When we were younger, we’d chase after the girls, trying to throw water on them as they screeched in horror. As we grew older, we still chased them, but for an entirely different reason. One girl in particular caught my eye and her name was Sydney.
Sydney was a very quiet girl, probably one of the quietest people I’ve ever known in my life. She never said much in school or anywhere else. She was one of those people who if you asked her a direct question she’d answer it just as polite as can be, but she’d never start a conversation herself. During those summers, she’d come over to my house, but she’d never say much. Usually, she’d bring a book along with her to read while the rest of us played cards or tormented the younger kids (depending on what mood we were in that day). She never spoke to us, but every so often, she’d look up from her book and smile at me.
Well, of course, this made me completely enamored with her. I’m tellin’ you, one look at her dimpled smile and I was a goner. The only problem was, she didn’t seem to be too interested in me. Sure, I’d swagger up to her with my grin on and I’d lean up against one of the posts to the porch and I’d try to turn on all the charm I had. This routine usually had girls swooning at my feet, ready to kiss my sneakers, but not her; not Sydney. She’d talk with me for a few moments and then turn back to her book as if the conversation hadn’t taken place at all. This, of course, only made me want her more, but whatever I was sellin’ she wasn’t buyin’.
Eventually, I gave up on Sydney, but she was always a friend to me, just like all those other kids were until, one by one, they disappeared after graduation. Only two people from my class stayed around Liberty: Becky Rose, who took over her mother’s clothing shop and Alex Stanton, who’s the Sheriff’s deputy. Everyone else faded away. I’ve spoken to a few of them, when they came to visit their families, but that’s all. Some days when I sit out on my front porch, the front porch of the house I grew up in and the house where I still live, I think about them. I wonder whatever happened to them; I wonder if they ever wonder about me, but then I realize that they probably don’t. After all, once you leave Liberty and lead, what is almost guaranteed to be, a more exciting life elsewhere, you’d probably never think of it again. I wouldn’t really know this though; I’ve never really left.
Chapter 1
I grew up in the deep south; the deep, deep south as in the place that should practically be declared its own country because it’s so different than the rest of the US of A. Down there, in Alabama to be exact, typically either one of two things happened to a person as they were growing up: they either knew right from the start that the moment that high school diploma was put in their hand they were outta there forever, for good (except maybe returning for a holiday or two) or they never wanted to leave because it was their home and it got under their skin, the way those great southern towns can, for those that enjoy them anyway. There was, however, a third thing that happened to some people, like to me. Those people wanted to leave desperately, but were trapped there because of something, or, usually, someone. Even more usually that someone was a girl. It wasn’t in my case, though. Well, in a way I guess it was, but I called this girl Mama.
Since my daddy was the way he was, I was all my mama had, so I couldn’t leave her. She’d look at me with her brown eyes in that motherly way that she’d be begging me without even begging and I was stuck; I couldn’t go. After I graduated high school I went on to college in Birmingham, only a few hours away. Then, once I received my degree, I returned to Liberty to stay, but I guess I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself.
Liberty, Alabama, where I was born and raised, is about as small a small town as you’d ever find. It has exactly one street, not surprisingly called Main Street, and on that street was… well, just about everything. Big Jesse’s Barber Shop, now owned by Little Jesse (Big Jesse’s son), but still the social center of the town; Dobson’s Market, a combination pharmacy, diner and grocery store and pretty much the only place to purchase food within the town’s borders; and, of course, Liberty K-12, home to kindergarten through twelfth grade and only about two hundred students in all.
Being part of the deep south, our town had exactly one of all those things, and most any other type of store that existed there, but lining Main Street there were a total of three churches, two of them Baptist and one of them some sort of nondenominational. Most every family in Liberty attended one of those churches at least once a week (though for a great number of families it was usually more than once), except my family, that was. I don’t think I ever set foot in one of those churches, but that’s another story for another time.
My childhood isn’t something I like to think about very much; it wasn’t a happy time for me. Well, part of it was, but that part was a lie, you see, so it no longer is happy to me. My daddy being the way he was taints all memories I have of that time, at least, of my home life. What I do remember most were the summers.
Back then, not very many people in the town had air conditioning in their houses. Liberty wasn’t a very well-off town. We weren’t close to living in poverty by any means, we just weren’t overly wealthy. Not having air conditioning was quite unfortunate for most of the days out of the summer. If you’ve lived down there or visited, you’ll know what I mean, but if not, I’ll try to explain.
Summers in the south are like summers no place else. For starters, the air is thick with humidity, so thick that it feels like the meringue atop a lemon pie; it feels like you can’t even move through it. The air sticks to your skin along with your shirt and pants causing you to always feel as though you need a shower, even if you just took one. The sun would beat down on you too, hard. If you bought an ice cream cone from Dobson’s and took it outside you either had to eat it so fast that it gave you one of those terrible headaches or you’d be licking it off your arm within seconds.
Lucky for me though, my house had air conditioning, which meant it was a central hang out for kids in my grade. You see, there was only about twenty kids in my grade, which meant we were a real close-knit bunch, having spent out entire lives together. We were friends with the kids in the grades above and below us, too and we all spent the summers together, running outside when we could and sitting on a shaded porch, sipping cool drinks, when it got too hot.
Growing up, my best friend was James Powers. When I was in the fourth grade his family moved into the house across the street from mine and we immediately became inseparable. In school, we rose to the top of the social hierarchy as we grew older and soon everyone knew us to be the kings of the school. James doesn’t live here anymore, though. He was one of those who knew he had to get out of our small hick town the moment he moved into it, even if he did enjoy his school existence. He only stuck around for a month after graduation before going to some fancy law school up north; he’s never been back here either, but that’s okay I suppose.
Anyway, James, me and all our friends would spend summers at my house. When we were younger, we’d chase after the girls, trying to throw water on them as they screeched in horror. As we grew older, we still chased them, but for an entirely different reason. One girl in particular caught my eye and her name was Sydney.
Sydney was a very quiet girl, probably one of the quietest people I’ve ever known in my life. She never said much in school or anywhere else. She was one of those people who if you asked her a direct question she’d answer it just as polite as can be, but she’d never start a conversation herself. During those summers, she’d come over to my house, but she’d never say much. Usually, she’d bring a book along with her to read while the rest of us played cards or tormented the younger kids (depending on what mood we were in that day). She never spoke to us, but every so often, she’d look up from her book and smile at me.
Well, of course, this made me completely enamored with her. I’m tellin’ you, one look at her dimpled smile and I was a goner. The only problem was, she didn’t seem to be too interested in me. Sure, I’d swagger up to her with my grin on and I’d lean up against one of the posts to the porch and I’d try to turn on all the charm I had. This routine usually had girls swooning at my feet, ready to kiss my sneakers, but not her; not Sydney. She’d talk with me for a few moments and then turn back to her book as if the conversation hadn’t taken place at all. This, of course, only made me want her more, but whatever I was sellin’ she wasn’t buyin’.
Eventually, I gave up on Sydney, but she was always a friend to me, just like all those other kids were until, one by one, they disappeared after graduation. Only two people from my class stayed around Liberty: Becky Rose, who took over her mother’s clothing shop and Alex Stanton, who’s the Sheriff’s deputy. Everyone else faded away. I’ve spoken to a few of them, when they came to visit their families, but that’s all. Some days when I sit out on my front porch, the front porch of the house I grew up in and the house where I still live, I think about them. I wonder whatever happened to them; I wonder if they ever wonder about me, but then I realize that they probably don’t. After all, once you leave Liberty and lead, what is almost guaranteed to be, a more exciting life elsewhere, you’d probably never think of it again. I wouldn’t really know this though; I’ve never really left.
SpygirlAmy
Cadet
aww that was great!
loved it! cant wait for more
loved it!
cant wait for more
fieldstation
Cadet
hm... great update! still wonder what happened between sydney and michael.
aprilsfool6
Cadet
Loved the details in this chapter. The deescriptions of the town and its life really gave me a sense of the town. The air being thick as the meringue.. that was my favorite detail..
Great chapter. I can't wait to find out what happened during that summer.
derevkointraining
Cadet
huh.
ok, i really just have no idea about this fic.
were they never together? or only together for a bit when they were younger and then she left, leaving vaughn behind again?
hmm.
guess i'll find out more tomorrow.
i would be like, super miserable living in that kind of place. well, first off, i am SOOOO not a southerner. hahah. a new yorker could NEVER concede to being a southerner.. (even if i did.. live... in DC.. for 8 years... LOL) but a small town.. YIKES. 20 kids in my grade? double yikes. i'd be one of those who'd run off as soon as my diploma was in hand!!
ok, i really just have no idea about this fic.
were they never together? or only together for a bit when they were younger and then she left, leaving vaughn behind again?
hmm.
guess i'll find out more tomorrow.
i would be like, super miserable living in that kind of place. well, first off, i am SOOOO not a southerner. hahah. a new yorker could NEVER concede to being a southerner.. (even if i did.. live... in DC.. for 8 years... LOL) but a small town.. YIKES. 20 kids in my grade? double yikes. i'd be one of those who'd run off as soon as my diploma was in hand!!
SkyGirl5
Cadet
i can tell you that sydney and michael were never together when they were 'younger'
and yeah, the south would kill me too
sparklingrainbow
Cadet
i can't wait to find out more about syd and michael... it's getting really interesting! thanks for the update!
texasalias2004
Cadet
I loved it. Thanks
texasalias
texasalias
xMountineer02300844x
Cadet
I want to read more. I want to find out what happened between them. I could never ever in my life live in such a small town, it would drive me to my death. For some very strange reason, this kind of reminds me of "To Kill A Mockingbird."
-erin
-erin
mbellsdiva
Cadet
I love the visual of him charming the ladies. Of course he liked the attention the ladies gave him, but only for a little while. But, because Sydney never fell victim to his charm he found her irresistable.
Can't wait to hear about the rest of their lives.
I love your description of the heat in the South. I live in Texas close to the Gulf Coast and your description of how the heat affects you is very close.
cookiemonster
Cadet
And most importantly...
What has Sydney Bristow become?????
Love it Janet! I want it to be Sunday....
What has Sydney Bristow become?????
Love it Janet! I want it to be Sunday....