A Million Miles From Boston (8 page)

“No, he’s mine,” Peter said.

I glared at Bucky and Peter. Ian was a hero because his dad had put up a fancy swing?

Becca started counting and everyone bolted. I ran to the back of the Big House. Ian stood behind my favorite hiding tree.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Becca shouted.

I didn’t want to hide near Ian, but I had no time to go anywhere else. He crouched behind the tree and I stood over him. He smelled fresh, like the wind. Becca ran past and then it was quiet.

“You run that way,” I whispered, pointing left. “I’ll go the other way.”

“No, I want to go to the right.”

“Fine!” I took off. For the next half hour, I found great hiding places. Then I ran to my tree again. I grabbed a low branch, swung my leg over it and climbed until I reached my safe spot. The leaves were good cover and no one had ever found me there.

The spotlight on the back of the Big House crackled and turned on, lighting the dirt below. I watched Peter run past. Then Henry ran by and crouched in the corner where the storage shed connected to the Big House.

After a while I glanced at my watch but it was too dark to see. Superior was terrified of fireworks. I needed to go home. I had just started to climb down when Ian ran up and hid behind the tree. If I jumped down now, he’d know my hiding place.

Minutes ticked by.
Run away, Ian
, I screamed in my head. When a huge sparkling white light exploded over the trees, I jumped down.

“What the … !” Ian stumbled backward.

“Sorry.” I sprinted past him and met up with Bucky in the field.

“Where were you?” Bucky asked as we ran. “She’s gonna be so scared!”

“I know.” We raced home. We were in front of our cottage when a second firework lit the sky, white streaks reaching over the bay, then a third. I threw open the door, then ran through the porch and kitchen and up the stairs.

Usually we sat on my rug, Superior trembling between us. I looked in my closet and saw her curled in the corner. Fireworks filled the sky as Bucky and I squished in next to her. I left the door open just a crack.

“I’m so sorry we’re late.” I stroked her head. She trembled, panting.

The closet was hot and smelled like mildew and wet dog hair. Guilt twisted my stomach. The year before, I’d stayed in bed with the flu for three days and Superior had never left me. Jenny had to put on the leash to get her outside.

Now her body shook; her tongue hung out. Sweat dripped down my back as I fingered the hairs between her toes. We kept talking to her.

“It’s hurting her sensitive ears,” Bucky said. That was how Dad explained it.

If it hadn’t been for Ian, I’d have been here on time. I felt each explosion, deep and painful in my chest. Did Superior feel it there? Maybe we both had big spaces inside us and the explosions filled them up and took over our bodies.

Now the fireworks came quickly.
Boom. Boom!
Finally everything was quiet. But fifteen minutes passed before Superior stopped trembling and we got her downstairs. Outside, the air was cool, the moon bright.

Superior stretched out, rolled onto her back and began wiggling, legs and paws up. I got on my back, too. The grass was wet and cool and tickled my neck. Bucky joined us. Superior started snorting and sneezing, her tail wagging, and we giggled.

We heard the wagon squeak and then Dad came into the backyard. “What’s this?”

“Lucy’s closet was so hot!” Bucky said.

Dad squatted and rubbed Superior’s stomach. “You’re the best girl, aren’t you?”

“Dad, guess what?” Bucky said. “Ian’s dad put up a new swing. It’s awesome!”

“I heard,” Dad said.

“It’s not that great, Buck,” I said. “You can’t even go in big circles anymore.”

“Yeah, but Ian said you could put a bunch of people on it and it won’t break. And that it won’t ever wear out. And Ian said—”

“So you believe everything Ian says?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I kinda like him now.”

Great.

I followed Superior as she walked around the yard. When she stopped, I stroked her back. Her coat was as dark as the night and soft and warm.

I looked up. Millions of stars were little white pinpricks in the dark sky, as far as I could see. Below me the dock creaked and the water lapped against the shore and the moored boats.

Back in Boston, when I couldn’t sleep, I thought about nights like this up here. Quiet. Beautiful. Peaceful. I took a deep breath, the warm salt air filling my lungs.

I wasn’t going to let Ian ruin it.

livia and Lauren wanted to play rescue princess.

“Rescue princess?” I glanced at Peter and his sister, Becca, who were arguing about kickball teams.

“We’re princesses, but our evil stepmother put us in an orphanage when our father died.” Olivia pointed to the play structure. “You have to rescue us.”

“Give me the ball!” Becca yelled. Peter threw it, hitting her in the head. She charged at him, knocking him into the grass.

I ran over and pulled them apart. “Stop!”

“It’s her fault,” Peter yelled. “She keeps grabbing the ball.”

“No, I don’t!” Becca said.

“Stop or we won’t play at all!” I said. Peter and Becca scowled at each other.

I put home plate near the play structure and split up teams—Bucky, Henry and me versus Becca and Peter. I told the little girls, “Stay on the play structure. I’ll rescue you when it’s our team’s turn to kick.”

But the girls kept shouting from the play structure, “Help! Rescue us!” And Peter and Becca argued over who should pitch, who should run for me, who was up first.

Finally I gave up. “Snack time!”

I handed out granola bars, then dropped to the ground, exhausted. Superior was tired, too, from running back and forth with me.

I glanced at my camp schedule. Nothing went as planned.

A truck pulled up. Mr. Richards and Ian got out and examined the porch. Mr. Richards wedged a shovel under a loose shingle on the Big House and pulled, breaking it into a dozen pieces.

I handed out juice boxes, watching until I had to investigate.

Mr. Richards smiled as I walked up. “Ian, it’s your friend. What’s your name?”

“Lucy,” I said. Ian didn’t look at me. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for water damage, termites. I saw some activity in the crawl space.”

“Aren’t termites bad?” I asked. Lauren ran up, giggling, and grabbed me.

“Sure. Water damage is, too. If either gets into the supporting beams, we’re in big trouble. Might have to replace the beams. Maybe the whole structure.”

“But you can’t tear it down! The Big House has been here since 1922.”

Mr. Richards laughed so loudly that Superior jerked her head to look at him. “You’re one of those people, know the
dates of everything? My daughter’s like you. Knows everything, too. We’re just checking things out. No need to jump to conclusions.”

I glanced down at a huge bucket at their feet, filled with hammers, a saw and other tools.

Mr. Richards’s cell phone rang. “Hang on, it’s in my truck. Ian, I’ll be right back.” He walked off.

Peter ran up with the others. “What are you doing?”

“They’re going to tear down the Big House!” Lauren said. Everyone gasped.

“That’s not what he said.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t know anything yet.”

“But why?” Becca asked.

“Big water damage,” Ian said. Everyone looked at him.

“What’s that?” Henry pointed to a long, thin metal pole poking out of the bucket.

“This?” Ian grabbed the pole, jumped up and thrust it in front of him. “My sword, and I’m a pirate. I’ll cut your heart out and sell it to the first person who pays me!”

He talked in this weird accent as he sliced the air with the pole. “Take that!”

The kids giggled and Peter kept saying, “Do it again!” I put my arms around Olivia and Lauren and pulled them close. He
was
kind of funny, but he could hurt someone if he let go of the pole.

Ian stabbed the air again and again. The kids kept laughing.

“Ian!” Mr. Richards charged over to us. “For God’s sake,
can’t I leave for five minutes without you screwing up? I told you not to touch anything.”

Ian’s cheeks reddened. I was so surprised that I looked away.

I led the kids back to the field and said, “The Big House is fine. Don’t worry!”

I showed them how Superior could catch a tennis ball and they forgot about the Big House. But I kept watching Ian and his dad.

The next couple of days were cold and rainy. On Wednesday we held camp inside the Big House, playing duck, duck, goose and making papier-mâché masks. Peter was bored, but we ended camp with a game of Twister, which he won.

After everyone left, I cleaned up and listened to the rain pound the roof. A cold wind shook the windows and sneaked through the space under the doors. Raindrops fell through the chimney and into the fireplace.

It was hard to imagine that water could cause so many problems.

But after studying it the year before, I knew it did. Water gave life to everything—plants, animals, people—and it could take life away. Countries went to war, people died, over water rights. The ocean could be peaceful one day, violent and destructive the next.

The wind rattled the windows. Dad had lots of memories
of the Big House. Fun times when he was a boy. Most important, asking Mom to marry him after a party.

I had a lot of memories of the Big House, too. Two years earlier Bucky had thrown up on Mrs. Steele during the Welcome Back barbecue. Yow! And I remembered sitting on Mom’s lap, watching the talent show.

The talent show was a big tradition. Anyone could perform. The talents varied: singing, juggling and—our favorite, performed by Mr. Ramsey—sucking water from a straw through the nose. Mom had loved the show, too. I would lean into her as we watched and she laughed loud and deep.

I smiled and closed the front door behind me. Rain bounced in the puddles and off the new swing seat.

Superior pricked her ears and we walked to the far side of the porch. Below us Mr. Richards stood in the mud in front of the holes he’d made.

“Hey, just the person I want to see.” Water dripped from the bill of his cap.

“Hi.”

“My tools are getting wet under the porch. Is there anywhere else I can store them? I don’t want to haul them back and forth from home.”

“Sure.” I pulled up my sweatshirt hood and ran down the steps. I grabbed the small bucket, Mr. Richards took everything else and I led him around the back to the shed, which held old paint cans, a few rakes and garbage cans.

“Perfect.” He set everything on the floor. “You’ll keep the kids out of here?”

I nodded. “They know the shed is off limits.”

He chuckled. “I asked Allison and her new friends what you were doing with all those kids. They said you have a camp, that you’re good at being in charge. I like a kid who knows how to work!”

What? The older girls were
talking
about me?

We were soaked, but I didn’t care. “Who said I was good at being in charge?”

He started for his truck. “Kiki did, I think. Can’t remember exactly. Sorry I can’t give you a ride. I’m late for a meeting in town.”

“That’s okay.” I waved as he got into his truck and drove away.

Superior and I headed home. My mind was racing. What else had they said? I floated the entire way back, not minding the rain or the puddles.

Our cottage was quiet and damp. Dad had left me a note.
Bucky is at Henry’s and I went into town. Be back at 1
. I dried Superior, put my camp money into my box and sat at Dad’s computer.

Mei had emailed me with the best news. Her parents were dropping her off here for a night the next week while they took her older sister to look at colleges in Maine. Hurray! I wrote back, telling her all that we’d do.
Somehow we’ll have to avoid Ian (haven’t seen him in 2 days). And remember the older girls I told U about? Kiki was telling Mr. Richards about me. So cool. Maybe U could meet her!
I typed.

The house phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi. Bucky?”

I frowned. The PT. “No, Lucy.”

“Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry. It’s Julia. I can’t hear you. Wait.” I heard music and voices in the background but then everything was quiet. “That’s better. I’m in a closet now.”