Story by J.J. Krause
Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. In this installment, we meet Dave, Karen, and Tamara on a weekend day as an unexpected heatwave hits Seattle. Want to skip ahead? Get the book.
A strange menagerie of half-naked, half-impaired Seattleites were suspended on a rough patch of grass sloping uneasily into the lake. They called it “the Beach.”
Madison Park Beach
Wearing pink shorts popular with gays in the mid 2000s, Dave marched to the lake, up and over another hill. With long legs and a reluctance to pay for non-essential services, he walked most places. The trek to Madison Park was one of his favorites; he loved letting the imaginary sense of security wash over him as he passed the meticulous homes. He would scrutinize the landscaping of each—is there all-season interest? Are these plants appropriately sited? How often do the gardeners come?
But the most interesting part was the bizarre contradiction where Madison Street came to an end. Beyond the commercial strip, where retired women shopped for Le Creuset mugs and hybrid-electric SUVs shuttled equity-rich young families to brunch, the scene came into view: a strange menagerie of half-naked, half-impaired Seattleites, suspended on a rough patch of grass sloping uneasily into the lake. They called it “the Beach.”
These were not neighborhood residents. From all over the city they congregated at this particular spot, an arrangement based on tradition and lack-of-police-enforcement. Some lounged on towels, some reclined in foldable chairs, and some—often in speedos—were standing, perhaps to get a better view of the mountain, or perhaps to offer a view of their own.
From the top of the knoll, Dave spotted the Matts—two former twinks sprawled on Mexican blankets. He meandered through the crowd toward them.
“She made it!” said Little Matt, jumping up, “Happy Birthday! What perfect weather! How does it feel?”
“Feels like another drought year,” deadpanned Dave.
“Oh, come on, Dave—don’t be a Debbie Downer. The others are on the way. Jimmy made jello shots, and Blake is bringing his red velvet cake.”
“Yum,” said Dave, trying not to think of the last time they had Blake’s red velvet cake—the bad oysters… the white carpet…
The other Matt, Big Matt, raised his eyebrows, seemingly reading Dave’s mind. He went by Flores, and he was indeed bigger; his speedo was struggling to contain him. He was rapidly transitioning into a “cub” on his way to bearhood, and he seemed to be enjoying it.
They’d chosen a spot next to a different species—a flock of bronzed Insta-hunks in Charlie speedos. It seemed unlikely they’d enjoyed cake in some time. Have those bodies been hidden under chunky sweaters all winter? Dave wondered.
While not opposed to pectorals, Dave wished they’d sat next to bears. Bears were easier. More cake-friendly. As he began disrobing, he felt the gaze of eyes. Given his height, this ritualistic moment—the reveal—was visible to all. He attempted a strip-tease of sorts, but as he lifted his shirt, his head got caught in the neck hole. He knocked his sunglasses off and nearly crushed them. Clumsily stepping out of his shorts, he exposed an ill-fitting speedo from Amazon. Onlookers seemed to yawn.
Luckily, he’d already applied sunscreen, eliminating that act from the show. He laid out his towel and ducked down.
“What’s new? Any scandals?” said Little Matt.
“Nothing. Trying not to think about work tomorrow.”
“This will help,” said Flores, pouring warm rosé into a Solo cup, “You go out last night?”
“No, I took it easy,” said Dave, omitting the fact that he binge watched BBC’s Gardeners’ World.
“We went to Jake and Mike’s. You should’ve come! I brought chili.”
“How was it?”
“The chili? I’m not sure anyone could taste it… we drank six bottles of wine. We had to Uber home.”
Dave smiled and tried to hide his JOMO (“joy of missing out”). He preferred Monty Don to Jake and Mike. And he was glad he was spared a hangover.
CASCADE 1: Going Downhill | A Failed Homosexual |.Crypto Karen | New Neighbors
CASCADE 2: Madison Park Beach | Home Economics | Morning in Bellevue
J.J. lives in Seattle and can frequently be found on foot trekking up and down hills, stopping only to record one-liners and half-baked ideas.
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