She sat on the edge of the pool lazily swaying her feet in the water. She didn't want to be there, half naked in front of strangers. Who ever came up with the bright idea of public pools. She tried to protest as her aunt assured her the bikini was taste full and the sun would do her some good. Yet here she ended up, hot and irritated, hoping to get heat stroke as she'd rather spend her day in the hospital then at the pool. She had no problem swimming in her underwear in the lake with her friends but, that was different. It was her friends, her family. Here it was just a bunch of strangers in a jumbled sense of community brought about by sharing the same disgusting water. She looked around to see her aunt chatting up some high class family. She then strode away knowing it would be hours before her aunt noticed her absence.
She wandered lazily around until she found herself at the dead end. She was on someone plantation although the house barely looked lived in she wondered if anyone even lived there. She walked up to the house and peered in one of the windows. Inside was only old beaten furniture and stomach turning wall paper. Her nose itched and as she scratched it she noticed the smell of gasoline coming from inside. Against better judgment she wandered into the house to find the source of the scent. Her search ended in the kitchen, a freckled face guy sat lighting a fire to gas soaked papers in the oven. Around him was all you would need for a good campfire smore. He grabbed a marshmallow and jabbed it onto a metal rod before dancing it over the fire.
"You can have this one love" he spoke to her.
His accent was pungent to her ears, she never could understand the allure of British boys, and this one was surely a number one reason why. He was scrawny and looked as if the sun had never graced his painfully pale face.
"Bolics!" he shouted as he burned the marshmallow. Susanna shook her head, she wouldn't be getting anything unless he learned how to cook.
"Sugar, If you want to be eatin soon I'd suggest you hand the poker to me." Susanna softly removed his grip and sat down. She poked another marshmallow through and held it over the fire.
"So now tell me, whats a Britt like yourself doin down here in the Orleans?"
"Mum didn't like being back home in Britain anymore. Shes a mover she is. I'm actually French but cause Mum liked to move so much I got the Britts accent. I lived in whales and Ireland too though, New Orleans was just another stop for her. She figured here'd be the best place in America to go sense more of them could speak French and all. Yet that bloody Cajun I can barely understand ya with it."
"I don't speak Cajun hun, I'm not one of these Louisianans. I'm a horse monger, a deer hunter, I'm from Kentucky. Oh and I don't speak no French so don't be trying any ewwy gooey love shit on me." She gave him his newly made smore and set the poker down.
"Trust me, with a voice like yours and clothes like that I wouldn't dream of it." He retorted snidely.
"What do you mean voice like mine, and clothes like this?" She snapped.
"Well I mean for some people cameo is fine but, you look like you've been hiding out in the woods." He took the last bite of smores and laid onto his back.
"Well its meant for huntin! What about my voice?" she yelled at him annoyed.
"Its just awful, I think I might even prefer Cajun to an accent like yours, at least slipping French in shows they have some class." He said and closed his eyes.
"No class? You were baking in a broke down stove in someone else property. I don't suppose breakin and enterin and arson are classy, now are they?"
"Who said I was gonna burn it down, I just wanted smores." He sat up to meet her eyes.
"Oh sure you did you crook, I bet it'd give you some kind of sick satisfaction to burn it down. Make your mark on this town, prove your above these stupid people." She stood up to leave.
"Sounds like you're the one with the yearning for arson. Hell, I'll be gone from here soon, might as well leave a gift. Here." He threw her the lighter and grabbed the gas can. He trailed it through the house up the stairs into all of the bedrooms and laced the outside with it. He came back into the house and emptied the can on the ugly old furniture. It would all connect back to the parlor.
"Here ginger, take your shit" Susanna had gotten all of his stuff together and handed it to him.
"Its your choice love, I've left my mark. Are you gonna brand this town with yours?" Susanna looked at him deeply and smiled. "Sugar, your gonna have to find a new mark to leave." She held the lighter to the corner of the couch and watched it become engulfed with flames. "Because this ones going up in flames" They ran out of the house and Susanna lite up the outside to match the flames growing within. They stayed and watched it burn until the smoke rose high enough that they knew others would see it and they ran.