CHAPTER 16

The next morning, Sean remembered that Chrissy Stillman was supposed to come over on Saturday, and he got a little ticked off about being shanghaied into the camping trip. Now he’d have to cancel with her because he’d be 150 miles away at the highest point in Connecticut. Which was sort of like saying he was blowing her off to visit the coldest place in Florida.

Okay, yes, they could reschedule. But she was obviously a busy person—maybe her interest in training George was more of a whim, Sean ruminated, and now that it was postponed she’d get committed to other projects, other dogs.

He called her, but only got voice mail. He left a message, but had a feeling it would be a while before she got back to him. She’d always been like that—sort of . . . capricious was the word that came to him.

This, of course, reminded him of Hugh, and how they had howled with hilarity over Auntie Vivvy’s “secret capriciousness.” It served to dial back his self-pity. Kevin, who for all intents and ­purposes was a friendless orphan, was more important than a stupid dog-training session. Even if it was with the woman of Sean’s teenage—and possibly adult—dreams.

It would have helped to talk to Cormac about it. Cormac was a guy you could count on to commiserate and then tell you not to be an idiot. But he was no doubt at the Confectionary, up to his elbows in cruller dough or butter cream frosting, and not available for a pep talk.

Sean found himself dialing Tree of Life Spa. His back wasn’t killing him, but it did ache, accelerating to a solid throb now and then. A massage would help him settle down, find his balance. Chrissy Stillman had always had a way of throwing him off kilter, which was both intoxicating and exhausting at the same time.

“Rebecca’s booked until next Thursday,” Cleopatra told him with utter apathy.

“She’s got no openings for a week?”

“Um, when you call on a Thursday, that’s generally what ‘booked until next Thursday’ means.”

Sean was about a nanosecond away from telling her to go—

“It’s him,” Cleopatra murmured, her voice aimed away from the mouthpiece. “Psycho high school stalker guy.”

A distant voice groaned, “Jesus, Brittany!”

“Fine, talk to him yourself, then,” she said.

Sean heard someone take a very deep breath and let it out. “Hello?” said the voice.

“Becky?”

“Hi, Sean.”

“Hey, I was thinking of coming in, but your wacko receptionist says you’re booked solid.”

“I am. I’m just waiting for my next client.”

“Really? You don’t have anything for a whole week?”

“Yep,” she said. “I have to go now, I’ll talk to you later.” And she clicked off.

Sean put the phone down. Becky had hung up on him. He didn’t even know what to think about that.

A moment later the phone rang and he picked it up.

“Hey, sorry, I had to switch to my cell phone,” Becky murmured furtively. “I wanted to tell you . . . I don’t have to treat you here. You could come to my house.”

“Really? That’d be great, because I—”

“The spa is closed Sundays and Mondays,” she murmured. “That’s when I see private pay clients.”

“Not till Sunday?” Disappointment nibbled at him. He really wanted to see her today.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he hoped she was ­reconsidering. “Sundays and Mondays,” she confirmed. “Here’s my cell number. Call and let me know what time works for you.” And she was gone again.

Sean called back immediately, hoping to convince her to let him come to her house that night, or even Friday night. He and Kevin would be leaving early Saturday morning for the camping trip and wouldn’t be home until late Sunday afternoon. Her voice mail picked up. “This is Rebecca Feingold,” said her calm, melodious voice. “Please leave a message, and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.” It still seemed strange to hear her refer to herself as Rebecca.

“Hey, Becky,” he said. “If there’s any way you could squeeze me in before the weekend . . . But if not, how about Sunday night—maybe around seven?” He hung up and chuckled to himself. It had almost sounded like he was begging her for a date.

* * *

The Belham Scout House was a nondescript little brown cabin tucked into the woods near the Town Beach. There was a gray Suburban SUV parked in front, and a bald guy with a slight paunch standing by the open rear gate. He wasn’t actually doing anything himself but seemed simply to be watching the boys do the work of loading gear into the back of the vehicle.

Sean looked at Kevin. “Ready?” he said.

Kevin’s face had that squinched-up look he got when he was anxious. “I only know one of those kids,” he muttered, “and he’s a jerk.”

“I bet the others are really good guys.”

“Doubt it,” said Kevin.

“Hey,” said Sean. “You wanted to come, remember? Highest peak in Connecticut and all that. Don’t start off with a bad attitude.”

Kevin lowered his chin and bit at the inside of his cheek.

Sean softened. “Besides, if they really are all jerks, you’ll hang with me, we’ll make the best of it, and the whole thing will be over tomorrow afternoon. You never have to come back.”

Kevin cut his eyes toward Sean.

“Piece of cake,” said Sean.

They took their stuff out of the Caprice and walked toward the group.

Sean went over and introduced himself. “Glad to have you with us,” said Frank, though he didn’t actually look all that glad. He had one of those faces that barely moved when he spoke. Sean wondered if he might have a mild case of Bell’s palsy. Frank called to a boy of about fourteen who was heaving a cooler into the back of the Suburban.

“This is Jonathan,” he told Kevin. “He’s your senior patrol leader for the trip. That means he’s in charge of all the boys.”

“Hey,” mumbled Kevin.

“Hey,” said Jonathan. “That your stuff? Let’s toss it in back.” The two boys loaded the packs, and Jonathan took Kevin up to the scout house to get more supplies.

Once they had finished packing up, all six boys climbed into the back of the Suburban. Jonathan sat in the middle behind Frank and Sean, and Kevin sat to his left behind Frank. Sean could just see him out of the corner of his eye, staring out the window as they left the familiar confines of Belham behind.

“We’ve got a lot more kids in the troop than this,” said Frank, apropos of nothing, as they pulled onto the Massachusetts Turnpike heading west.

“Oh?” said Sean.

“Yeah, but in the summer a lot of them are in camps or on vacation. Trips during the school year are bigger.”

“That’s good to know,” said Sean, though he didn’t really think Kevin would be around to experience these more populated expeditions. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to make conversation or just let Frank drive in peace. The boys wiggled and laughed in the back. Kevin continued to stare out the window.

“You like to camp?” Jonathan asked him.

“Um, yeah,” muttered Kevin.

“Where’ve you gone?”

Kevin said something, but Jonathan couldn’t hear him. “Where?” he asked again.

“Nowhere.”

“This your first trip?”

Sean could see Kevin deflate even further into the seat back. “Yeah.”

“Excellent!” said Jonathan. “It’s an honor to go with a guy on his first campout, you know. Hey!” he yelled to the others. “It’s Kevin’s first trip. Tell him what’s good about camping.”

“Food!” one of the guys yelled. “Yeah!” the others concurred. “Meatballs!” screamed another. Then there was a cacophonous chorus of all the foods the scouts liked. Pancakes with tons of syrup. Stew cooked in aluminum foil over the fire. Reflector-oven brownies.

“All right, settle down,” said Jonathan. “He’s gonna think we’re a bunch of pigs.”

“We are!” yelled a thin little voice.

“You need to work on that one, Ivan,” another guy teased.

“Knives!”

“Yeah, whittling! Cutting stuff!”

“You got a knife?” Jonathan asked. Kevin shook his head.

“Good. You can’t use a knife until you get your Totin’ Chip. It’s a badge that says you know all the safety rules and stuff. But you can get that pretty soon if you want.”

Kevin’s green eyes went round. “I can?”

“Yeah, you can use an axe, too.”

Sean saw Kevin smile, and for a moment he looked just like Hugh.

The boys continued to call out the things they liked. Fires, fishing, magic cards. They laughed and teased and poked one another. Jonathan did a good job of keeping Kevin in the mix.

“It’s important not to help too much,” Frank said out of the blue.

If he thinks I’m the type to hover, thought Sean, he’s got another think coming. Sean had never been fully responsible for another person his whole life. He’d never even babysat, other than for Deirdre and Hugh.

“Jonathan knows what to do,” Frank went on. “They’re supposed to go to him with problems or questions.”

“Pretty big job for a kid his age.”

“That’s the point. Boy-led troop. If there’s something they truly can’t handle, they come to us. Or if something’s getting out of hand. Otherwise we hang back.” Frank nodded, and a hint of a smile emerged on his granite face. “Best management training program on the planet.”

* * *

They pulled into Bash Bish Falls State Park around ten in the morning and began to unpack the gear into two side-by-side campsites. Frank’s and Sean’s stuff went to one site, the boys’ to the other. Jonathan and a stocky round-faced boy named Bodie, who was Frank’s son, coordinated the setup of the three tents on their site. Kevin’s tentmate was Ivan.

“He’s the jerk,” Kevin whispered to Sean, when they happened to head to the latrine at the same time. “He was in my class last year.”

“Tell them you want to sleep with someone else.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” Kevin said with disgust. “I’ll look like a baby!”

“Well, can you handle Ivan for one night?”

“Guess I’ll have to,” he grumbled.

When the tents were pitched and gear organized, Jonathan called them all over to a clearing in the trees for opening ceremony. He had hung a flag from a tree branch. The boys straggled over, talking and bumping each other.

“Signs up,” said Jonathan. Everyone quieted and held up three fingers. Kevin looked over at Sean, mild panic on his face. Sean gave an almost imperceptible shrug, as if to say, I have no idea, either. He held up his three fingers, and Kevin followed his lead.

They said the pledge of allegiance, saluting the flag with three fingers extended toward their temples. Then they began to recite an oath. On my honor I will do my best to do my duty . . . Kevin watched the others intently, as if he could join in if he concentrated hard enough . . . To help other people at all times . . . Finally it ended. Kevin’s relief was palpable.

But then they started something new! A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, they droned, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. They said it so fast it was hard to hear individual words.

“Okay, guys,” said Jonathan. “I just want to remind you of the Leave No Trace policy, so I better not see any wrappers and stuff lying around. Bodie’ll supervise lunch prep, so pack a sandwich, two snacks, fruit, some cookies, and lots of water. Full water bottles, okay? It’s not too hot, but you’re still going to need all of it on the hike.”

Bodie had the boys line up by the picnic table to make themselves sandwiches. Ivan’s only had grape jelly in it.

“You’re gonna be really hungry if that’s all you’re bringing,” warned Bodie.

“That other stuff’s disgusting! It’s highly processed,” insisted Ivan, as he watched Bodie make himself a ham, turkey, Swiss cheese, and potato chip sandwich.

“Least I’ll make it to the top without fainting,” said Bodie. “But don’t worry—if you pass out, I’ll just fold you up and put you in my pack.” He raised a hand and another kid slapped it.

They filled their water bottles, packed up their day packs, and got back into the car. After about twenty minutes they were on a dirt road, rocks spitting out from under the tires. Sean looked back to check on Kevin. He was staring out the window again, but this time he didn’t look as if he were being hauled off to jail. His eyes glittered with the sunlight filling the car.