Outside In (29 page)

The Boat House team had obviously learned from years past as well. Not only do they have Hawaiian music, but a fog machine
blows a white stream of smoke from the middle of the stage, and tiki torches outline the bar. The female bartenders wear grass skirts and drape leis around the judges’ necks. The bartender doing the mixing is dressed as a witch doctor, but he refers to himself as a mix doctor. Their drink is called the Island Volcano.

Puffs of smoke from the fog machine collect and dance around the torches. The mix doctor pours vodka, black raspberry liqueur, rum, and banana liqueur into a large hollowed-out coconut. He puts the top on, shakes it, then strains it into six martini glasses garnished with pineapple wedges.

Two of the girls in grass skirts finish the drink by pouring shots of 151 rum on top. The mix doctor lights a smaller torch and ignites the alcohol floating on top of each of the drinks. After he lights the last drink, he tips his head back, lets the girls fill his mouth with 151, raises the flame to his lips, and spits the alcohol into the air, shooting a six-foot flame.

Cinch and I slink into the back room. There’s no way we beat that performance. Haley knows it, too. “Looks like we have to settle for second place this year,” she says.

Now I really feel like shit. I say, “Sorry I let the team down.”

Haley glares at me. “Just because you finished second you think you let the team down? This is for fun, remember? Come on, let’s do a shot, and then we’ll go down to the Boat House and let them rub it in.” As usual, one shot turns into three. She says, “In a way I’m glad we lost because hosting the party afterward is a pain in the ass. Not to mention that the amount of alcohol consumed is staggering. I’m going to enjoy being a guest tonight.”

At the Boat House, people whisk Haley away to do shots. Cinch suggests we get Astrid and go to the monument because he has something to tell us. We locate her by the bar with the rest of the Boat House crew and absorb the jeers as they remind us about who won and who lost.

Astrid leans over. “Feeling up to settling our bet?”

“Cinch and I want to leave now,” I say, “Come with us to the monument, and then you and I can have the rest of the night to ourselves.”

“Okay, but Cinch isn’t part of the bet.”

It takes another twenty minutes and three more drinks before we make it to the door. People are at the emotional stage of their buzz, which means we’re escaping at the perfect time. Fifteen minutes more and we wouldn’t be able to get away.

The three of us climb up to our usual pod in the southwest corner of the monument plaza. Cinch opens a bottle of Pink Catawba. “I got a call from my dad today. A school district on the mainland wants me to come in for an interview.”

I say, “And you’re going?”

“This summer can’t last forever.”

I take the wine from him. “I’m not ready for it to end yet.”

“Sure you are. Think about the past few weeks. You’ve already grown tired of partying and going out. It’s only a matter of time before the Round House and red barn are on that list.”

“Come to OSU with me and get an apartment,” Astrid says. “Take some classes, substitute, find a job, whatever.”

Cinch says, “I’m done with campus life.”

“My plan is Key West,” I say. “But that could easily change. That’s why I love it here. I don’t have to think about tomorrow—only today.”

Astrid says, “That’s unrealistic. You have to have some picture of the future.”

“Why?” I ask her. “My future isn’t connected to any decision I make. Things are always just out of reach. You know why? Because I’ve been stupid enough to think I can control my future and make it happen. I thought coming here would change that,
but now that the end of the season is almost here, I’m in the same situation again. Why not just go with it?”

Astrid says, “Maybe you’re just trying too hard. I’ve had a blast this summer, and I know more about myself now than I did at the beginning of the season. That’s enough for me.”

“That’s what makes it tough to leave,” I say. “You do learn about yourself here. In the real world, other forces determine your life.”

“I need distractions,” Cinch says, seeming not to recognize that he is a major one. “The only things for me here are friends and partying, and the friends leave at the end of the season.”

Astrid takes my hand. Her touch sends a jolt through me. “Brad, maybe you should just stay here. If you can’t think of a reason to leave, then don’t. You might be home.”

Cinch drains the rest of the bottle of wine and drops it into the bottom of the stone urn, where it clinks against another bottle someone else has left here. He laughs, looking down at it. “We’re not the first to come here, and—”

“We won’t be the last,” I finish. “What do you think the people who drank that bottle were talking about?”

Cinch says, “Who cares? Let’s go home. I’m tired of thinking.”

We climb down and walk along the seawall. Astrid pauses when we get to the intersection. “You still up for hanging out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “A bet is a bet.”

The smell of beer mixed with marijuana conveys that we’ve just missed Griffin and the others. I count thirteen cups, all filled with varying degrees of beer.

Astrid draws from the keg. “There’s a note on the table:
2:45 a.m. Went to the cove
.”

Cinch says, “Fuck it. No reason for me to stay here … unless the three of us aren’t done for the evening.”

“Nice try, Cinch, but Brad has his hands full with me. I’m not sure he could handle both of us.”

Cinch does a healthy blast right from his bag. “I was talking about partying, but maybe I should stay to help.”

I motion toward the door. “Maybe I should go to the cove while you two finish abusing me.”

“Relax. Astrid’s not my type,” Cinch says. “I like the cerebral ones.”

Astrid tilts her head to the side. “That’s so disappointing because I love fat, balding men.”

“Are you really sure you should go?” I say. “It’s been a long day. Maybe bed is the best place for you.”

Cinch downs his beer. “Who cares? I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead.”

I light a candle on my dresser and sit on the bed. “We can just go to sleep if you want.”

Astrid kicks off her shoes, sending them in opposite directions like scurrying mice. Her dress falls to the floor. She drifts across the room toward me. I can’t believe this is finally happening. The candlelight blankets her curves, a hypnotic flickering light against her angelic frame.

She pushes me back on the bed. “I don’t want you to say or think about anything. Just relax.”

“But I lost—”

“Shhhhh. Winner gets what the winner wants. I want you to lie there and be quiet.”

I rub her chest and back, creating a mental snapshot. How I’ve longed for this moment. Her skin feels as creamy as I imagined. The same curves I watched swallow the candlelight, I now trace with my fingers. She eases down on top of me, placing both hands on my chest and extending her arms. She rocks back and
forth, slowly increasing the length and the force of each stroke until our bodies tense, and she collapses on my chest in silence.

Astrid shakes me. “Hey, I think somebody’s here.”

“It’s probably just Cinch.”

“No, I think something’s wrong.”

We both listen. Someone rushes into Cinch’s room, calling his name. It’s Stein.

I put my shorts on and open the door. “What’s up? What happened?”

“Cinch is missing,” Stein says in a panic. “A bunch of us went to the cove to jump. Afterward we built a fire on the beach. Cinch came late all fucked up and wanted to jump. I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. He kept talking about doing a flip. I don’t know if he did the flip or not, but there was a huge splash and then nothing. It was so fucking quiet. At first we thought he was screwing around. You know how he is, always playing jokes. After a few minutes we went into the water. We looked everywhere but couldn’t find him. We hoped he’d just come back here, laughing about how he fooled us. He did, right? He’s probably fucking around, right?”

THE SUN CLIMBS ABOVE THE HORIZON ON THE EAST SIDE OF THE ISLAND
. It’ll still be another thirty minutes before light reaches the west.

Griffin is wading through the water twenty-five feet from shore when we arrive. The fire the others had built on the beach smolders, giving off puffs of smoke that rise up to the cliff. I stand on the edge as a spotter.

For the next hour we search the coast for a quarter mile in each direction. The sun, now fully visible above the tree line, warms the morning air but does nothing for the cold, aching realization hanging over us. I motion them in. “He’s not here. He has to be playing with us.”

Griffin says, “Let’s go check the barn. If he’s not there—” He hesitates, inhaling a deep breath. “If he’s not there, we should go to the police.”

Stein and I follow Griffin up the steps of the red barn. I’ve climbed these steps countless times this summer, often at this very hour after a long night, but never this slowly. I hear Griffin ask Astrid if Cinch has come back. I know her answer by his response. “Fuck! That fucking asshole.”

Stein urges me forward. Inside, Griffin paces frantically. Astrid is sitting on the couch, cocooned in a blanket. No one speaks; we all just watch Griffin. Minutes of silence build like drops on the end of an icicle. Each one combines with the ones before, collecting … building … increasing the discomfort and anticipation as we wait for this bubble of awkwardness to burst. We can’t just sit here. We need to do something.

“Griffin, try to relax,” I say. “Nothing is definite right now.”

“Easy for you to say. My brother’s dead, and you’re telling me to relax.”

“That’s not fair. He’s a brother to all of us. Getting yourself upset isn’t doing any good.” The words don’t feel any better coming out of my mouth than they probably sound, but surprisingly Griffin listens and sits down next to Astrid. She puts her arm around him. He drops his head and buries his face in his hands.

I turn to Stein. “Did Cinch have any drugs on him?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He gave me what he had before he jumped.”