A Million Miles From Boston (7 page)

“Hello, you two. How are the clams? How is the Point?”

“Everything’s great,” I said. “But it’ll be weird without you up here.”

That was true, although it might be more relaxing. Grandma had the energy of five people, Dad always said.

“We’ll miss you, too, sweetie. Oh! My
goodness
!”

“What?”

“Granddad and I are at a restaurant,” she whispered. “And this man just walked by. Strangest thing. One of his eyes didn’t move or blink. It must be a glass eye.”

“How do you get a glass eye?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t know. Think of the fun! You could take it out and play marbles with it.”

Bucky laughed. “You could play catch with it.”

This had to be one of Grandma’s crazy stories. We knew she made them up, but I went along. “At night you could leave it on your nightstand and it could watch you sleep.” We laughed, even Dad.

“How’s Uncle Bud?” Dad asked.

“The surgery went fine but the recovery’s been tough.”

Dad shook his head. “He was always so strong.”

“It’s just life, Ben,” Grandma said. “He’s going to be okay for now, so no sad business, okay?”

Dad glanced at me.

“Well, I need to go,” Grandma said. “Big kisses to you all.”

We said good-bye and finished our lunch. Then we were back in the car. When Dad turned onto the dirt road to the Point, I opened the window. The smell of pine and cool sea air filled the car.

No sad business
. Grandma was talking about how sad we’d
been, especially Dad, after Mom had died. He kept crying and barely left his room. It scared me so much that I tried not to think about it.

I twisted my earrings and looked out the window.

The mist had turned to light rain and the wipers squeaked across the windshield. Patches of fog hung in the trees between the Averys’ and Pollards’ cottages.

Superior waited for us at the porch door. Later she lay across my feet while I sat in front of the puzzle on the table.

I liked puzzles because even if they seemed impossible, eventually you’d put them together. Every summer I did one, and this was the hardest yet, two thousand tiny pieces of an ocean scene.

Dad sat next to me and picked up a blue piece. He hummed, studying it. Dad wasn’t sad very often. I wasn’t, either, although sometimes when I thought about Mom—not the fun stuff we usually talked about—I felt something heavy start to fill up this big space inside me. Was it sadness? Maybe it was just that I missed her.

I went back to the puzzle. I had a system. I separated the pieces with edges and tried to make the border. Then I separated the other pieces into colors. After that I just went for it.

Dad still held the same blue piece. He stared at the edges, then the puzzle, then back. But he was studying so hard that he missed the obvious.

“Dad.”
I took his piece and fit it into the ocean. “It was right in front of you!”

“I’m no good at this. I didn’t see it.” We laughed. “Let’s go down to the dock.”

We walked across the yard and down the stairs. The dock was cool and damp under my bare feet. We got onto our stomachs and looked through the slats. On sunny days it was easy to see, but that day the water was murky and dark.

“I see … well, not much,” Dad said.

We’d played this game ever since I could remember, trying to see who could find the most unusual thing. One time Dad found a wallet with fifty dollars on the sand.

“I see minnows, starboard side,” I said.

“What? Are you making that up?”

“Sore loser!” I laughed, then rolled over and sat. Fog drifted over the water, hiding the buoys and boats in a soft white haze.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Dad said. “Ian and his dad came by while you were babysitting. He seems like a nice kid. Polite.”

“Ian’s not polite.”

“He was today. And quiet. His dad talks a lot. Big guy. Said he’s taking the summer off to work on the house. Landscaped, put in a new dock.”

“Did his dad say anything about the rope swing?” I asked.

“No. But he thought the Big House might have some water damage.”

“What do you mean?”

“He pulled back some shingles and found rotten wood. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“Maybe just repairs, although he said we should think about tearing it down. He’d help with something new, bigger. He had lots of ideas.” Dad grinned.

“Tear it down!” I said. “Really?”

“Whoa, nobody wants anything to happen to the Big House. Let’s just wait and see what he finds when he takes a closer look.”

I sank. The Big House had been here for almost a hundred years. Everyone on the Point had some kind of memory about it. Mom had loved the Big House. We couldn’t tear it down.

took my shoe box from under my bed and counted my money: one hundred dollars in twenties, tens and singles. I’d have had a lot more if I hadn’t spent so much on snacks and craft supplies.

From under the money I pulled out the boat magazine and opened to the kayak I’d circled. Durable polyethylene hull, adjustable padded backrest, lightweight at only forty pounds. It came with a storage cover and a carbon fiber paddle and I’d need every dollar from camp and babysitting to pay for it.

“Lucy, time to go,” Dad called.

I glanced at the other kayaks, cheaper but not as nice. Then I put back the magazine, shoved the box under my bed and ran down the stairs.

Dad and Bucky were outside next to my wagon, which was filled with supplies for the night. We were on our way to the July Fourth clambake at the beach. I stood inside on the porch with Superior. “If we could trust you, you’d be invited.”

Three years earlier she’d stolen a hot dog out of Mrs. Pollard’s hand, and ever since, she’d been banned whenever food was served. She pulled back her ears. I hugged her.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I promise to be back before the fireworks.”

At the beach I spread our blanket next to the Steeles’. Then I set our plates and silverware on the blanket. I breathed in the thick smell of burning charcoal and wood.

“Lucy!” Becca ran up. “We need you! For chase!”

“After dinner,” I said. Then Henry called her and she took off.

The older girls sat on the rocks. I walked down to the water, closer to them. Kiki, wearing a Bates sweatshirt, said something that made everyone laugh but I was too far away to hear. I should just walk up to them and say hi.

But I’d tried that at a party the summer before. They’d stared at me as I’d walked up and stood there and then Kiki had asked, “Do you want something, Lucy?”

She asked nicely. But I felt like an idiot, because suddenly I didn’t know
what
I wanted. And so I said the first thing that came to mind. “The blues aren’t biting yet.”

Kiki bunched up her eyebrows, confused. “The bluefish? What?”

Tonya giggled. My face burned as I ran off.

Maybe if someone went with me, I’d feel braver. Too bad Mei hadn’t come to visit yet.

Allison, sitting next to Kiki, smiled at me. But as I started toward them, she turned away.

I looked around. Mrs. Richards stood alone at the water, barely blinking her rain-cloud eyes as she looked out into the bay.

“Lucy!” Lauren ran up. I pretended to run away in slow motion. She grabbed my legs and we fell, giggling.

Mrs. Richards stood over us, smiling. “You goofballs.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Graham yelled.

“Lucy.” Henry ran up to me. “We wanna play chase.”

“After dinner,” I said.

Henry groaned. “It’s gonna get dark!”

“Want to see what I found?” Lauren pulled on my hand.

“Goodness.” Mrs. Richards laughed. “It must feel good to be needed so much.”

I blushed. “Well, I made up this game and everyone wants me to play because they get confused about the rules.”

“Could you ask Ian to join?” Mrs. Richards asked.

I squeezed my hand into a fist. Ian wouldn’t want to play with the younger kids.

Mrs. Richards sighed. “He’s having a hard time.”

“Oh.”
Ian?

A man walked up and Mrs. Richards said, “This is my husband, John.”

“Hello!” Mr. Richards had dark eyes, like Allison and Ian, and a deep, booming voice. With his white hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, he seemed a lot older than Mrs. Richards. We shook, his huge hand practically swallowing mine.

“This is Lucy, Ian’s friend from home,” Mrs. Richards said.

Mr. Richards nodded. “Oh, sure, sure, met your dad and brother.”

I pulled my hand away and stood taller. “Hi.”

“I hear this clambake has been a tradition for years,” he said. “Wonderful idea.”

I nodded. “We have
lots
of traditions. The talent show. The fishing contest. The regatta. See Mr. and Mrs. Steele over there? They’ve been coming to the Point since, like, the 1950s. Everybody pretty much likes things to stay just the way they are.”

Mr. Richards’s eyes flitted to something over my shoulder. Had he heard me?

“You can tell us about these traditions when you stop by.” Mrs. Richards smiled.

“I will!”

“Oh, there’s Brad Avery,” Mr. Richards said.

He nudged Mrs. Richards and she winked as they walked off. I joined Dad and Bucky in the food line; then we sat on our blanket. I watched Mr. Richards talking to everyone. He seemed okay.

Mrs. Richards and Ian sat on their blanket, eating. I couldn’t ask him to play chase, because I didn’t trust him.

Lauren yelled, “Lucy! Time to play!”

What to do about Ian? I didn’t want Mrs. Richards to be mad at me.

“Lucy!” Becca called.

“I’m coming.” I jumped up and started walking. Ian would probably break something else. Tease me. Scare the kids. I kept going until I stood in front of him. “Wanna go to the field to play a game?”

Mrs. Richards lit up. “You should go.”

Ian poked the sand with a stick. Was he even listening? But when I started to walk away, he followed.

The sun had gone down behind the trees but the sky was still light. The air smelled like smoke, clams and salt water, then like dirt and pine as we went down the path. It was quiet, the voices from the beach fading, our steps cushioned by pine needles.

I glanced back at him. He’d been quiet like this when we were alone, working on our water project. He finally looked at me before dropping his eyes.

At the field the kids crowded around the tree, where a new swing hung from the branch.

“Look, Lucy, it’s even better than before!” Becca jumped onto the swing.

“Wow,” I said. Two thick chains were bolted to the branch with big silver screws. A long metal bench hung at the end of the chains.

“It’s easier,” Becca said. “You don’t have to squeeze your thighs around the rope.”

I turned to Ian. “Did your dad do this?”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “It’s so sturdy that three people can be on it and it won’t break.”

“Can I have a turn?” Bucky asked. Ian lifted him onto the bench next to Becca. Bucky and Becca swung back and forth. “Higher, higher!”

There were so many things you couldn’t do with the new swing. Twist until you were dizzy. Swing in a big circle. But it did look safer, and learning to hold on wouldn’t be as hard.

The other kids giggled as they watched. How long would it be until they forgot about the old swing?

“Let’s play chase,” Becca said.

“Are you playing?” Peter stood next to Ian.

“Someone has to tell me how.” Ian grinned.

“It’s like hide-and-seek,” Peter said, “only the person finding you has to protect home base. When you get found, you have to stay on base until someone frees you.”

“Why not play kick the can?” Ian asked. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“Because,” I said. “We want to use the whole field.”

“You can play kick the can in a bigger place,” he said.

The kids looked at me, wide-eyed. I frowned and put my hands on my hips.

“Oh, you made it up, so you’re the boss, huh?” He saluted me. Peter giggled.

“Don’t play if you don’t want to,” I said.

“No, no, I’m in.” He saluted again and everyone laughed.

He made me so angry!

“You can be my partner,” Bucky said to Ian.