Chapter Fifteen

Screened In

 

WE WERE ON the porch playing with Oreo when Julie showed up.

“Hi, guys. Got your note.” She was wearing her red one piece bathing suit with a whistle around her neck and a towel over her shoulder.

I walked over to the screen where she was. Wendy followed me.

“Hi, Julie.”

“Heard you guys were in jail, had to come by and see for myself.” She was actually gloating. Seeing Julie out there with her freedom and her beauty made me ache to be like her, but I knew now that I never would be.

I envied her long-boned confidence. She was all curves and I was all angles and sharp edges. I would never have the wide-eyed innocence I had when I arrived. I had finally seen myself through the black eyes of Uncle Butch and I knew I came from a hard-boiled madness.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have left the dance early without telling my parents,” Wendy said.

“How long are you guys locked up?”

“Don’t know,” I said, looking out of the screen that separated us. I had Oreo in my hands.

 “What’s that?”

“It’s my kitten, Oreo.”

“How cute,” Julie said, moving away from the screen that served as the bars of our jail and sitting on top of the picnic table. A flash of light sparkled in my eye. Next to her was a patch of dried blood speckled with fish scales shinning like diamonds in the sunlight. It was Uncle Butch’s fishy killing ground. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Wendy asked.

“Freckles’ dad sent him to military school. He’s training to become a marine or something like that. His dad really knocked him around. He had a black eye when he left.”

“That’s too bad,” Wendy said.

With Freckles gone and us being on restriction, we didn’t have the chance to drink, or smoke, or get into any more trouble, which was fine by me. I was tired of being in trouble, tired of being grown up.

“What about the others?” I asked, trying not to show too much enthusiasm.

“You mean Reds, don’t you—you sly fox. And you want to know where Owl is. Right, Wendy?”

“Yeah,” we echoed.

“I’ll let them know where you are.”

Uncle Butch pulled up in front of the cottage. I didn’t know it was so late.

He got out of the car and walked over to Julie at the picnic table.

She stood up and stretched.

“Well, hello, Julie. It’s been a while since you’ve been over here. This is a nice surprise.”

“Hi, Mr. Morgan. How are you?”

“I’m better now. I didn’t know a pretty girl was in my front yard. I would have come home sooner.”

“Thanks, Mr. Morgan.” I hated when her voice got all sugary. She loved attention and loved flirting, but she was flirting with the wrong person and I had to let her know. I didn’t want her on my conscious too.

“I didn’t know you were a life guard.”

“Yeah.” She fiddled with the whistle hanging around her neck. “I work at the pool here at camp. It’s a good job. Plus I get to work on my tan.”

Uncle Butch couldn’t stop looking at her whistle.

God. How much longer could I watch this?

“I see you at the dances.”

“I see you too. You and Mrs. Morgan are really good dancers.”

“Thanks. Save me a dance, next time. I’ll show you some moves.”

I had to stop this. But before I could speak, Wendy spoke up first.

“That reminds me, Dad. Can we go to the dance tomorrow?” Her voice was louder than it needed to be, but it did the trick. It seemed to break the spell he seemed to be under. Had she felt the same uncomfortable feeling I had?

He hesitantly peeled his eyes from Julie’s whistle and looked over at us.

“Nope.”

“How about the Fourth of July. Can we go to that dance?” Wendy asked.

He thought about it for a moment. “I suppose so, if you promise to be good. I want to be able to see you two young ladies the entire time. Got it?”

“Yeah, we promise,” Wendy said. Although I was defeated about Friday, at least we had the Fourth of July to look forward to.

“Well, when you guys get sprung, come over to the pool. I’ll be life-guarding,” Julie said. “Bye, Mr. Morgan.”

“Bye, Julie. See you around.”

I hope not. For being such a Monster, he sure was good at blending in and acting normal.

 

FRIDAY AFTERNOON, WHILE we were scarfing down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Reds and Owl showed up outside the porch.

“Hey, Chris,” Reds said. “Good to see you. I was wondering where you’ve been. Did you hear about Freckles? He’s in military school.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“How long are you on restriction?” Reds asked. “Do you think you’ll be at the dance tomorrow?”

I thought I missed Reds, but now as I looked at him, I was kind of afraid to be around him. I was glad for the company of Wendy, because I didn’t know how I would feel if it was just the two of us.

“I doubt it. My uncle is still mad at us for disappearing at the last dance.”

“The bicentennial celebration is coming up soon. Do you think you guys will be off restriction by then?” He put his hand up to the screen and I put mine up on top of it.

“I hope so,” I said.

Then he put his lips to the screen. He looked funny, but innocent, too, so I kissed him back.

I tasted dust. The pressure of his lips on mine felt good. Safe. But ever since Mount Adams, I wasn’t sure how to feel about Reds.