There are beautiful neighborhoods in the quaint outskirts of Atlanta. No, it is not the landscaped lawns, flower beds, or white picket fences that make these neighborhoods so memorable. It is the patchwork of people who live in them. Since the early 70s, Swirling Winds has always been such a community. A diverse fabric of families from all shapes, sizes, and colors. Whether blue-collar, white-collar, or no-collar, residents are drawn to settle in this quaint village. There are vast similarities to other communities. School buses pick up kids for school in the mornings, and parents scurry off to work. Weekends are filled with residents riding bikes, jogging, or strolling through the neighborhood, walking their dogs, and waving to passersby. Yes, from the outside, Swirling Winds is a welcoming place until it isn’t. On one such weekend, all that was about to change.
It was on a warm Saturday morning in June. Johnathon, who has lived in Swirling Winds for about a year, is throwing a birthday party for his beloved wife, Cindy. He had reserved the pavilion at the community pool nestled deep within the center of the neighborhood. Older pool members call this place the club, but younger members call it the money pit. Regardless, it is the secret oasis for Swirling Winds. A beautiful place where families swim, grab a tan, sling a disc golf freebee, or pitch horseshoes. It is also the go-to for celebrating special occasions like the Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and Birthdays. However, it is also the utopic mecca of gossip, forbidden discussions, and shocking rumors. Indeed, it is a communal gathering place, the local watering hole, and host to the occasional after-hour moonlit party.
Johnathon gets up early while Cindy is still asleep, eager to finalize plans. He is very excited, wanting her special day to be memorable. Quickly filling the chests with ice, he then places the barbecue ribs and pork butts inside. Ryan waves to Johnathon from across the street. They have become great friends and neighbors. Earlier in the week, Johnathon had asked Ryan to help with the setup and grilling.
Ryan eagerly agreed. “Sure, bud, no problem.”
“Thanks. I got four slabs of ribs and two Boston butts. Oh, and thank Andrea for getting everyone to bring sides.” Andrea is Ryan’s wife.
“No worries. What time did you want to head down?”
“I figure around 9:30 should be good. We will slow-cook the meat for about eight hours. That should have us eating around six this evening. Yep, that’s the plan. Cindy’s friends will join us. They offered to bring the cake, so all is good.”
“Bud, you have it all going on, that’s for sure. The boys have a soccer game this morning. We’ll see you down there at 9:30.”
“Great, thanks for your help.”
“You got it.”
A couple of hours later, Johnathan and Ryan met at the pavilion. They emptied the supplies from the truck bed, fired up the grill with hickory chips, and then prepped the meat. Waiting on the grill, they rinsed off the picnic tables and stowed the coolers on the far side of the open pavilion. Wiping his brow, Johnathon smiled with pride as it was all coming together. They had worked up quite a thirst, so around 11 o’clock, they cracked open Jim Bean and cranked up some country tunes on the Bluetooth speaker.
“Woo wee, today is going to be a burner. I really appreciate your help, man.”
“No worries, bud, glad to do it. Andrea will be down soon with the boys.”
“Oh, where’s Amy?”
Amy is Ryan and Andrea’s daughter and the mother of their two grandkids. Still, in her younger twenties, she is not motherly—to the point of ignoring her maternal responsibility. Instead, Amy goes out after work for some late-night fun with the guys. She still lives with her parents and leans on them to help raise the kids.
“Ahh, hell, don’t get me started.”
“Well, she is their mother. Hell, you’re the grandparents, for god’s sake.”
“Yeah, tell her that. She went out last night and hasn’t returned.”
“Damn, she is a piece of work, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, well, she’ll show up sometime today.” Sigh, “I can’t let those boys suffer because of her.”
“Ryan, you need to have a long talk with that girl of yours. It is not right that she uses you guys.” Then he snickers, “She sure doesn’t have issues making kids.”
“Augh, well, at least she married the baby daddy for the first one. But I know what you’re saying.”
As they spoke, little did they know that Amy was already igniting gossip around the pool. Her sexual escapades gave an endless supply of club members’ chatter. She was in rare form that day and quickly became the hot topic of scandalous rumors. Before long, Andrea showed up with her grandboys. But it was their mother’s latest texts of her carnal exploits that bolstered the buzz of whispers poolside that day.
“Hi, Andrea,” club members would say with a smirk.
She smiled, knowing their smirks meant her daughter was today’s hot topic again. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the pavilion. “Hey Johnathon, you guys doing alright?”
“Hey Andrea, yep, all is well…ready for a wonderful night.”
“Can’t wait. Hey Ryan, can you watch the boys in the pool while I go to the restroom?”
“Sure, babe.”
“Thanks.” She turns and walks towards the clubhouse.
The boys play in the pool. Andrea sets up the tables and pulls things together while Ryan and Johnathan finish cooking the barbeque. By one o’clock, the Saturday afternoon pool crowd is in full swing. The sun goddesses are baking in the sun. As the sweet smell of Coppertone swirls in the air.
Of course, all the pool chatter revolved around Amy’s revealing texts about unique positions, sexual favors, and body orifices. Not all the talk was innocent. There were no mixed words when Amy was horny. She gave plenty of details to share. She had only messaged a few so-called friends about her night. Which meant the entire club knew about it. All the while, her two unsuspecting boys play in the pool’s shallows. Drinks continue to flow as the sweltering heat beats down on the loosening tongues of sunbathers. Murmurs target Amy’s lack of motherly instinct and scandalous detailed texts over late-night escapades. Amy wasn’t much for being discreet. She liked to kiss and tell.
Fortunately for Ryan and Andrea, the ever-changing winds of gossip shift to a grander topic. New enticements soon entered the pool area. The chatter quickly shifted upon Roy and Brooke’s arrival. Their presence electrifies the rumor mill into overdrive. Roy is a recent divorcee, but the whispers revolve around Brooke. Although separated from her husband. They have not yet divorced. At least, that was the buzz. She and her ex-husband still live together in the neighborhood. Despite their illegitimate relationship, Roy and Brooke seem happy in each other’s arms. Club members dubbed the couple Ken and Barbie, or the beautiful ones. Why, might you ask? Well, Roy is clean-cut and muscular with an erect herculean posture. Brooke, with dirty blond hair and smooth bronze-tanned skin, wears a skimpy peek-a-boo bikini, leaving little to the imagination. Like royalty, they swayed through the gates into their aquatic kingdom.
Of course, not everyone bows upon their triumphant presence. Especially Tori, who is married with two boys, and Melanie, who has three kids and is going through marriage counseling. These ladies brood darkly in ravaging jealousy. Brooke must feel their peering daggers as she passes. Their deep desire for Roy’s attention only exceeds their disdain for Brooke. Not far behind the pretty ones, scurry in their close friends, Conner and Skyi, or the entourage as they are known at the club. In fact, rumor has it this foursome gets along very well in Roy’s garage. Ahem, well, yes, this is gossip for another day.
As the sun drops below the trees, evening sets in, bringing the metamorphosis of change as the drinks flow into the night. Everyone is ready for the festivities except for one important person: Cindy, the birthday girl. The cooks have been drinking for more than seven hours now. Johnathon bombards his wife with phone texts. She responds, ‘On our way,’ each time. Still, she hasn’t shown up, which has caused him to become angry.
“Where the hell is she? She knew we were having her birthday tonight. Dammit.”
Ryan slurs, “Calm down, big guy. She is p – probably just g – getting ready.”
Ryan’s attempt to calm Johnathon falls on deaf ears. The couple have been together for over twenty years. He knows what’s up. She is disappointed with him. Johnathon continues to mull over the situation, cursing under his breath. Before long, he becomes obnoxiously loud about her not being there. He is right about one thing. She had no interest in having her birthday at the pool. It was what he wanted, not her. As evening fell, tensions grew, and the liquor continued to flow. Finally, around six o’clock, Cindy and her friends show up. It was very apparent she had been drinking as well.
Her presence calms Johnathon down as all falls back into place for her special birthday dinner. Invited friends and members laid out macaroni and cheese, green beans, mashed potatoes, green salad, rolls, pork and beans, and desserts to share. Cindy’s friend placed the birthday cake on the picnic table. The moon peeked over the trees at the end of another sweltering day. The air cools, but the humidity keeps it sticky. Soon, Johnathon prompts everyone to sing Happy Birthday to Cindy more than once. Despite the initial annoyance, the evening is a smashing success as laughter and joking continue into the wee hours of the morning.
Until Johnathon and Cindy, who were past sloppy drunk, begin to argue, her loose tongue finally snaps.
He says, “Honey, I hope you had a good time tonight.”
“Hmm.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I cooked and prepared this all day for you. All I get is a …hmmm.”
“This was not for me. It was what you wanted. You never asked me what I may like to do for my birthday, so….”
“I did this for YOU. Do you have to be such an ass about it? I thought you would enjoy being around our friends.”
“Wow, it’s not every day someone calls you an ass on your birthday…thanks, hone. You’ve made it so much more special now.”
They continued with their unpleasantries as everyone listened. Finally, Ryan and Roy step between them to end the madness. “Parties over,” Roy declared. After the general cadence call, everyone pitches in with the cleanup. Then part ways for the night. Johnathon, Cindy, and their son Jonas piled into his truck and headed home. On the drive, tongues lashed out as they were at it again. By the time they make it home, Johnathon and Cindy are enraged at each other. The argument becomes louder and louder while entering their house.
Johnathon spewed, “You’re never satisfied with anything I do. I try to do nice things for you, but you never appreciate anything.”
“Huh, you have never made me feel special. It’s always about what you want and when you want it. It’s never about me.”
“What do you mean after all I did for you tonight. I wish we had plenty of money for what you want, but we don’t. I try, but it is never enough for you.”
“You don’t try. It’s never about me. It is always what is good for you. Huh, you played with your friends all day. So, stop it with your crap. We both know better.”
“That’s it. I’ve had enough of your shit. All you do is gripe about me needing to make more money. Argh, what if I weren’t here?” His bloodshot eyes stared at her. Pish, “You really don’t care, do you?”
She screams, “Get over yourself. This is all about you. Yes, I am disappointed in you. Ugh, never mind, just go to bed.”
Gritting his teeth, Johnathon moves towards her. Jonas jumps between them and pushes his dad back, causing him to stumble to the wall. “STOP IT. Both of you. Just stop.”
Cindy snorts, “You’re drunk. You can hardly stand up. Just go to bed, Johnathon. Just GO.”
He grunts, drops his head, and staggers to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Jonas watches until his dad disappears into the bedroom, then turns towards his mother.
“Mom, you know Dad tries the best he can. He’s had a tough go lately with his lawn care business going under. Now, he’s driving a truck for a lawn chemical company to make ends meet. You know he is down right now. Why can’t you –”
“He needs to wake up. We can’t keep living this way…we can’t.”
“But, on your birthday? Mom, you’ve both been drinking all night. You are as much to blame as he is. Dad tried to do what he could for your special day. Why couldn’t you at least appreciate what he did.”
“Son, he did this for himself. He drank all day with Ryan. Pulling this party together was just a way for him to enjoy his day. It had nothing to do with me.”
“Really, Mom, come on, you know better than that. If that’s true, he would have just done it and not worried about your birthday. You know I’m right.”
Sigh, “Maybe. I just wanted a nice dinner and to have time with just the three of us. That’s all. Ugh, I suppose the alcohol got to me, but still.” She snarls, “He makes me so angry sometimes.”
“I know.” Jonas pats her hand.
A slight creak, they stare into the hallway as light comes from the now-open bedroom door. Johnathon stumbles back to the kitchen. Still flushed, he looks straight at Cindy.
Then slurs, “S-since you’re dis-disappointed in me. I-I guess you have nooo need for me. You don’t want me here?” He pulls his 9mm pistol from behind his back and shoves it in his mouth.
Cindy gasps, unable to vocalize her words, choked, desperate to speak…BANG…a shot rang out. Blood splatters all over her face. Johnathon’s body crumbles to the floor…thud.
Jonas screams, “No.” Rushes to him, “DAD…no…God no.” He turns to his mother, “MOM, call 911. Mom…call 911. Hurry, hurry…Dad, Dad.”
Cindy’s throat is dry. She gulps, frozen in shock. Stunned, she sits in silence. Johnathon’s blood ran down her face. Utterly shaking, unable to move, paralyzed with fear. In her mind, it was a dream. It must be. Then, she stares stoically at her son, holding her husband on the floor. Jonas mouths something. In shock, she couldn’t hear him. Suddenly, he grabs her phone and calls emergency services.
Thirty minutes later, EMTs and police entered the residence. Fire trucks, police cars, and an ambulance parked in front of Johnathon and Cindy’s house. The commotion wakes Ryan from his drunken stupor. He staggers to the window. Turns to Andrea. “Somethings going on at Johnathon’s.” He dresses and runs across the street to see what has happened. There, Johnathon’s body lays covered on the kitchen floor, blood seeping through the sheet. Cindy still sits emotionless at the kitchen table, dry blood on her face and shirt.
The paramedics pronounced Johnathon dead at the scene. She looks over at Jonas, massive tears streaming down his face as the police question him. Paramedics then checked Cindy’s vitals and cleaned her face. Still, she remains silent as they carry Johnathon’s body to the ambulance. Stunned in disbelief, Ryan places his head into quivering hands. Shattered that his friend had committed suicide. Soon, Andrea rushes over. Aghast, she runs to Cindy and holds her hand. Once the emergency crews leave, Ryan cleans the blood-stained carpet where Johnathon’s body once lay. They stayed through the morning with Cindy and Jonas.
The following day, the sun shines bright as shockwaves reverberate through the neighborhood over the tragic news that Johnathon is dead. Numbness touched those who were there that fatal night. An unusual silence pulses around the pool as members slowly congregate for another lazy Sunday summer swim. Low murmurs swirl around by those who were at the party…the drunken stupor…the argument… and now the death. Ryan and Andrea showed up, still distraught over last night’s horror. They try to quench the spread of rumors.
A week later, things settled back to normal. Ryan and Andrea help Cindy, although she remains cold towards them. Her lack of remorse upsets Ryan. Hearing her say, “I want to sell all his stuff, everything. I don’t want any of it.” makes him sick. Through it all, Cindy remains cold and calculating. She plans to clear out before the end of the week.
Later that night, Jonas loads the last boxes into the car. “Mom, that’s it. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Cindy says. With a crooked smile, she takes one last look at the house. Then, she whispered, “Once again, it’s all about you,” she shut the passenger door, never to be heard from again.
Relaxing poolside, club members still feel the sting of loss for one of their own. Gossipers spread rumors about Cindy’s odd, disturbing behavior among the living. For many, this unfortunate grief has brought significant and deeper meaning to friendship. Depression and loneliness are serious mental conditions not to be taken lightly. The tragic death of their dear friend Johnathon has proven this truth. The experience has renewed a sense of care for one another. To acknowledge when someone needs the comfort of a true friend.
Indeed, we have only explored a stitch within the colorful patchwork of fabric that weaves these stories together—stories yet told about the quaint little community of Swirling Winds.