ZOEY SPENT THE AFTERNOON DOWN at the restaurant, helping her parents prepare for the Labor Day weekend crush. She moved beer from the storage room out to the bar coolers, unpacked several heavy boxes of new plates and sent them through the dishwasher, helped her father pull down the greasy vents from the hood over the stove, changed the oil in the deep fryer, and cleaned the entire walk-in freezer.
By the time evening rolled around, she was more than ready for escape.
She changed clothes in the restaurant bathroom and went outside into the fresh, warm air of early evening. She could see that Jake already had his father’s big boat warming up. Aisha was on the foredeck with Nina. Claire was standing on the bow looking at something Zoey couldn’t make out, with Benjamin just behind her.
Zoey crossed Dock Street and walked out onto the floating pier.
“About time, Zo,” Jake called out to her from up on the flying bridge.
“All work and no play, et cetera,” Claire said.
“Hey, some of us have to work for a living,” Zoey said, climbing aboard the big cabin cruiser. “Not all of us have rich daddies.”
Claire smiled. “But your dad is cool, as fathers go.”
“Yeah,” Nina chimed in, “your dad smokes dope and listens to The Who.”
“The who?” Aisha asked, looking blank.
“Big rock band of the sixties,” Benjamin said.
“No, he doesn’t, not anymore,” Zoey said. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck.
“Doesn’t what?” Claire asked. “Listen to The Who?”
“He doesn’t smoke pot anymore. Can we drop this topic and get going?” She told herself she was irritable because she’d been working all afternoon. But a part of her also felt guilty. She hadn’t told Nina about talking to Lucas, and that was unusual. She told Nina everything. Almost everything.
“Zoey,” Benjamin said, “you’re really not responsible for what Mom and Dad do. You don’t have to defend them.”
“Are we going for a boat ride or are we picking on Zoey?” Aisha asked, coming to Zoey’s defense.
“Can’t we do both?” Claire asked.
“Somebody cast off the stern line!” Jake yelled down from the bridge.
“Is that front or back?” Nina asked. “I can never remember.”
The boat backed out of the slip and Jake turned it around to face toward open water. They rounded the breakwater, and Zoey waved to some little kids Rollerblading along the concrete expanse.
As soon as they were out of the shelter of the harbor, the water grew choppy, with wavetops blown white by the breeze. Jake held the boat a quarter of a mile offshore. Zoey could see the well-preserved Victorian homes that lined Leeward Drive, most of which had been converted into inns or apartments.
Chatham Island was shaped like a croissant, with a big bite taken out of the middle. The bite was appropriately called Big Bite pond, a shallow, sheltered body that nearly cut the island in half. The north half of the island was inhabited, with North Harbor at the very tip. The part south of Big Bite was a wildlife sanctuary, with dirt roads and a very few scattered, isolated homes.
It took less than ten minutes to travel the distance from the breakwater to the inlet. Jake guided the boat through the narrow inlet, and suddenly they were out of the wind, on water that barely showed a ripple. The pond was only half a mile wide from its northern shore, lined with homes on widely spaced wooded lots, to its wilder, tree-lined southern shore.
Jake anchored the boat within a hundred feet of the south shore and they set about lowering the small dinghy into the water. Nina and Aisha climbed down into the dinghy, and Zoey and Claire passed down the cooler filled with cold soda, the bag of charcoal, and the Tupperware containers of meat and vegetables.
Benjamin joined them in the dinghy, climbing down with a hand from Nina, and the three of them rowed for shore.
“You want to do it the easy way or the hard way?” Claire asked Zoey.
Zoey looked toward shore, mentally calculating the distance. “I’ll race you. Loser hunts firewood.” She shucked off her shorts and blouse, revealing the pale blue maillot underneath. Claire did the same.
“Hey, Jake!” Zoey called. “Bring our clothes when you come ashore, all right?”
Jake nodded and waved from the bridge. He was waiting to be certain the anchor was holding.
Claire grinned and, without warning, dived like a knife toward the water. Zoey cursed under her breath and dove in after her. The water was cold, but after a day spent in the restaurant kitchen, sweating and covering herself with cleaning solutions, it felt heavenly. She surfaced and saw Claire, already two lengths ahead.
Zoey stretched out her arms and went after her. She was the better swimmer but, as usual, Claire had found a way to get an edge. The distance to shore wouldn’t be enough for Zoey to make up for Claire’s early start.
Claire stood just as Zoey’s feet found the gravel bottom.
“Don’t you ever get tired of cheating, Claire?” Zoey asked, squeezing the water from her hair.
“Don’t you ever get tired of losing?” Claire replied, grinning.
Aisha rowed the dinghy back out to the boat to retrieve Jake. Claire went back into the water, waist deep, meeting the dinghy just as Jake and Aisha neared shore. She leaned over the side and retrieved her dry clothing. Zoey saw the way Jake’s eyes homed in on Claire’s cleavage, so ostentatiously displayed in her bright red bathing suit.
If I were the suspicious type, I’d think she did that deliberately, Zoey thought. Jake sent her an innocent smile that proclaimed his guilt. She smiled back with her mouth, letting her eyes tell him that she had indeed noticed.
“Who’s coming with me to scrape up firewood?” Zoey asked, looking pleadingly at Nina and Aisha. Both of her friends volunteered half-heartedly. Zoey put dry clothing on over her wet bathing suit and tied her shoes.
“Dry wood this time,” Jake said as they tramped into the woods.
“Just tend to your little barbecue, Jake,” Aisha said. “I’ll be hungry when I get back.”
“I don’t know if I should leave Jake with Claire, undefended,” Zoey grumbled as they shuffled noisily over the carpet of pine needles.
“Which one is undefended?” Nina asked.
“You know, guys are going to look,” Aisha said. “They always do, even when they say they don’t.”
“I don’t blame him,” Zoey said. “It’s Claire, always parading those big buffers of hers around.”
“You know Jake’s faithful to you,” Aisha said, stooping to pick up a fallen tree limb.
“Yeah, he lacks the imagination for anything else,” Nina said dryly. “He thinks life comes with a rule book and a set of instructions. He wants to grow up to be exactly like his dad, only with more hair.”
Zoey flashed on what her mother had insinuated about Mr. McRoyan at breakfast that morning. She wasn’t sure whether she should bring it up or not. Maybe with Nina alone, another time. Somehow telling two people seemed like gossip, whereas just telling Nina would be all right. That made two things she was hiding from Nina.
Zoey pointed ahead. “There. Dead tree. We can break off the branches.”
“You know what I don’t get?” Aisha said. “I don’t get Claire and Benjamin.”
“No one gets that,” Nina said. “Claire’s been getting by on her looks since she was twelve. Now she’s going out with the one guy who can’t be totally sure she isn’t a gorgon. Go figure. Not to mention the second part of the equation—what’s a nice guy like Benjamin doing with my sister?”
“I don’t know about Benjamin being such a nice guy,” Aisha said. “No offense, Zoey. I don’t mean he’s not nice, just that he’s . . . he’s got an edge to him.”
“Of course he does,” Nina said before Zoey could answer. “I mean, cut the guy some slack. He’s dealing with being blind, which makes you feel weak and vulnerable. So naturally he reacts by keeping his distance from people.”
“I think it’s all you island people,” Aisha said. “You all grew up here together, you’re stuck together, so you all get kind of protective of your space.”
“We do not,” Nina said. “Hey!” she yelled at Aisha. “Don’t touch that stick. That’s my stick. It’s much closer to me.”
“Very funny,” Aisha said with a smile.
“Keep an eye out for ticks,” Zoey said.
“Oh, Zoey!” Nina whined. “Did you have to say the word ticks?” She began examining her bare legs.
“Ticks,” Zoey repeated.
“Bats,” Nina countered.
“Too early for bats,” Zoey said confidently.
“It will be dark soon,” Nina said. “That’s when the bats come out with their leathery wings and their sharp little teeth.”
“Well, at least we haven’t seen any snakes yet,” Zoey said gleefully, enjoying the crestfallen look on Aisha’s face.
“Yeah, they’re worse than bats and ticks put together,” Nina agreed solemnly.
“Don’t start with me,” Aisha warned.
“Psssss!”
Aisha jumped, looking down at the ground where Nina was pointing. Then she shook her head. “Oh, you’re very funny, Nina.”
“I think we have enough wood,” Zoey said.
“Snakes and ticks and bats, oh my!” Nina said.
“Let’s just get our wood and follow the yellow brick road back to the beach,” Aisha said to Zoey. “See if we can get your boyfriend off her sister.”
“It’s a dangerous world,” Nina said in a low, trembling voice. “Bats and snakes and ticks . . . and Claire!”
The bonfire burned noisily, sending up Fourth of July fireworks in showers of sparks, cooling as they fell to earth before they could reach the dark, overhanging trees.
Clouds had moved in, concealing the stars but letting through the bright diffuse glow of the full moon. Away from the circle of the fire the air had grown brisk, but sitting with her back against Jake’s chest, his thick, muscular arms wrapped around her, Zoey was warm. Her toes were close to the fire, and from time to time she had to pull them away to cool off.
Claire and Benjamin were on the opposite side of the fire, visible only in flashes between the flames, sometimes kissing, other times just holding hands. It was odd, always had been, for Zoey to see her brother being romantic. Benjamin, of course, could not see her, or even know that she could see him. It was one of the compensating advantages of being blind, she supposed—you could pretend to have a level of privacy, even when there wasn’t any.
Nina and Aisha were down by the water, outlined as shadows against the glittering surface of the pond, having a deep philosophical discussion of some sort as they studiously avoided looking at the two couples.
“Nina needs a boyfriend,” Zoey said to Jake.
“Nina needs a personality first,” Jake said.
“A guy would be very, very lucky to get her.”
“Aisha’s the one who needs a boyfriend,” Jake said. “I can’t believe that new guy Christopher hasn’t asked her out yet.”
“Maybe he isn’t attracted to her.”
Jake made a dismissive noise. “She’s got a nice bod, pretty face.”
Zoey twisted around to look at him. “She can read and write, too.”
“You know what I meant,” Jake said. “The first thing a guy looks at is . . . is looks. Later he gets into whether a girl is smart or has a good sense of humor.”
“How much later?”
“Zoey, is it just my imagination, or have you been busting me a lot lately?”
Zoey tilted her head straight back and closed her eyes. Jake kissed her lips and tightened his grip around her, letting his hand slip upward from her waist to just beneath her breasts.
“We’ve never kissed that way before,” Jake observed. “I mean, upside down like that.”
“Do I taste like barbecue sauce?”
“We both taste like barbecue sauce,” Jake said with a laugh. “Can I have some more?”
“Upside down?”
“Too strange,” Jake said. He guided her into turning around. They sat face to face, Zoey’s legs over Jake’s. She kissed him again, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers.
“That was nice,” she said, pausing to breathe.
“Mmmm,” Jake agreed.
His eyes reflected the yellow flames, two separate bonfires burning in dark pools. He undid the top button of her blouse and let his fingers slide beneath the fabric.
“Jake, my brother is like ten feet away,” Zoey said in a whisper. Worse yet, Nina wasn’t far away, and if she saw Jake in action, she’d be bound to start another round of discussion on groping.
“Your brother is always like ten feet away,” Jake said. He let his fingers caress the slope of her breast. “It’s not as if he can see what we’re doing.”
Zoey took his hand and moved it away. She kissed him again, but his response was less than enthusiastic. “Claire isn’t blind.”
“She’s not watching us,” Jake said. He reached for her again.
Zoey stood up. “I’m going to talk to Nina and Aisha.”
Jake stood up and grabbed her arm. “Just tell me one thing, Zoey,” he said. “Is this the way it’s going to stay? I mean, I’m supposed to stay on first base until we get married?”
Zoey spun around and faced him. The fire no longer reflected in his eyes. They were just shadows within shadows now. “Excuse me? Did I just hear that?”
“I was just asking whether we’re ever going to do it, Zo.”
“You said until we get married, Jake. I don’t remember ever even discussing anything like that.” Zoey put up her hand, palm outward, to keep him at a distance. “We’re not even seniors yet.”
Jake shrugged. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Good.”
“You know I love you, Zoey,” he said softly.
Zoey held her breath. It was not the first time he had said those words. She had even said them to him, once or twice. Maybe she had even meant them, who could be sure? Maybe Jake meant them, too, in his own way. She let Jake draw her close again.
“Don’t you ever think about the future, Zo?” he asked in a low voice. “I mean, you know, after high school and all. You ever think about what it would be like to get married and have kids and a house? Maybe a dog.”
“Sometimes,” Zoey said, feeling uncomfortable.
“I do,” Jake said solemnly. “I know we’re young, but I think about having a family of my own. Some kids. Maybe a boy.”
“Don’t you think we should enjoy being wild, irresponsible teenagers?” Zoey asked, hoping to jog Jake out of his serious mood.
Jake smiled crookedly. “I’m not very good at being a wild and irresponsible teenager, am I?”
There was something in his tone that was deeply melancholy. He was right, Zoey knew. Jake was seventeen and already acting like he was thirty.
“You’re good at being a horny teenager,” Zoey said, leaning her forehead against his.
Jake laughed softly, then grew silent again. “You know what today is?”
“Saturday?” Zoey said.
“Yeah, that too.” He nodded his head slowly. Then he turned to look over the placid waters toward the far shore, where house lights shone bright amid the trees. “Wade’s birthday.”
Zoey felt her heart sink. How could she have forgotten? What perfect timing on her part. This day of all days, she’d stood around chatting with Lucas. She hugged Jake from behind. He took her hands in his and sighed heavily.
“Two years,” he said. “I figured I’d be over it after two years. He’d be twenty now, did you know that? Probably a sophomore in college.”
“Of course you still miss him,” Zoey said.
“Yeah,” Jake said. “Someday I’m going to have a son and name him Wade.”
Zoey looked away. Benjamin was resting his head in Claire’s lap now, sunglasses in place, eyes staring sightlessly up at the gray-black blanket of clouds. Claire stroked his hair in a distracted way and watched Zoey.
No, Zoey realized as Claire’s eyes were lit by a spurt of flame from a falling log. It was Jake she was watching.
I used to live in Boston, which is a great city, although school there was a drag. I was one of the black kids who got bussed into south Boston so that the previously all-white junior high schools there could be integrated. What fun. One day some of the white kids, cheered on by their parents and with the assistance of their older brothers and sisters, decided to turn our bus over. With us still inside.
My folks freaked and decided that was enough of Boston, which was too bad, because really, setting aside that one incident, Boston was a very cool city. Great shopping.
Naturally my parents, being the people they are, managed to come to the conclusion that the perfect place for us was Chatham Island, a place where people aren’t even tan, let alone black. They’ve never been able to explain their logic. Mostly I think my mom just lost it when she saw this inn for sale and started hallucinating about quilts and valences and canopied beds.
At first I thought people here were even worse than in south Boston. They treated me like I was invisible. They treated my parents and my brother the same way. Always polite, but sort of like we weren’t entirely real.
I finally got pissed off and yelled at Zoey. I knew her from school by this point. I said, What is the deal here? You seem too nice and normal to be racist. She was shocked. Racist? I don’t care that you’re black!
Then what’s the damn problem? I said. I’m not invisible.
Of course not, she said. You’re just from away.
Away. That’s Maine-speak for the entire rest of the planet.
Eventually I stopped being from away. Now I’m not so sure I trust people from away. I mean, I’m polite and all, but still, you don’t want to pay too much attention to them for the first year or so.