A Million Miles From Boston (16 page)

Then Dad tossed them an inner tube and rope and we dragged them to shore on Pear Island. We anchored, left the cooler and blankets on the beach and started up the path. The air was cool and sweet and the bushes left dew on our shorts and legs.

Dad told Ian about the eagle nest and now Ian had a million questions. How big did nests get? How big were the eagles? Could we see the nest on our way back?

“It’s tough to navigate the waters there,” Dad said. “Too many rocks.”

I brought up the rear. As we neared the top, the PT turned and whispered, “He sure talks a lot.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

We reached the grassy opening. The sun was hot, the wind warm. The PT walked to the edge and looked out. Superior trotted next to her and started digging. Bucky chased a toad back down the path. Dad and Ian were finally quiet.

I walked to the PT and pointed across the bay. “That’s Pierson Point.”

“It’s so beautiful.” She took a deep breath. “I like this island, too.”

“Those are wild blueberry bushes down there,” I said.

She started down the slope and I followed. The bushes were full of tiny dark blue berries. She pulled a branch toward her face. “Can you eat them?”

“They’re a little sour still.”

She popped one into her mouth and sucked in her cheeks. “Sour, yes!”

I glanced up the hill toward Ian, who talked with Dad.

“He’s a character.” She laughed quietly. “Impulsive yet endearing. But I wonder if he’s overcompensating. Covering up for something.”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s always the other side of you, right?”

“Let’s go!” Bucky yelled. “I’m starving!”

We hiked down to the shore and ate. Then we headed back across the bay. The water was choppier, and the wind strong, so Dad drove slowly. I sat in my seat, holding on. Ian leaned over the side, dragging his arm in the water.

The other side of you
. I loved the water but I was also afraid of it. Mei was shy but not with me. Was this what the PT meant?

At our dock, I jumped out and tied up the boat. Then Bucky ran to Henry’s and Dad and the PT went for a walk.

“Well, I’ll see you,” Ian said. “Thanks.”

“Bye.”

He walked to the Steeles’ cottage and knocked. Mrs. Steele answered, waved to me, then stepped aside as Ian walked in.

What?

I imagined him at their table, Mr. Steele reading the paper and Mrs. Steele taking muffins out of the oven. I knew they loved me. But what if they liked Ian better than me?

I was being ridiculous. The Steeles had known me since I was born.

Finally Ian went into their shed, got a rake and cleaned up leaves and dead grass.

Superior and I walked over. “What are you doing?”

He kept raking. “In exchange for using the kayak, I’m doing stuff.”

I grabbed a rake. It didn’t take long to dump everything in the woods. As we put the rakes back in the shed, Ian said,
“You helped, so now you gotta go out in the kayak with me tomorrow.”

I hesitated. “Okay.”

“You’ll like it.” He grinned and walked away.

I reached for Superior. What had I done?

he next day Ian and I stood on the Steeles’ dock, wearing life jackets. We flipped the kayak and set it on the water. Ian lowered himself onto it and squinted up at me as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“We’ll be able to go faster with two people,” he said. “It’s not that hard. You just have to balance.”

“I’ll watch.” I took off my life jacket and dropped it but in my head I screamed at myself,
Go!

“You
are
afraid of the water. I knew it!” He laughed and threw back his head, then pushed away from the dock and paddled toward the marina.

He’ll have to figure out how to get the kayak onto the dock by himself! I thought. I stomped up the stairs, Superior close behind.

“Hello!” Mrs. Steele called from her porch. “I thought you’d be out with Ian.”

“No. Need anything done around the yard?”

“Between you and Ian we’ll have the cleanest yard on the Point. No, we’re fine today. Thanks for asking. Come in!”

I walked in and sat facing the yard. We talked about how quickly the wild blueberries were ripening and how Superior’s white hair made her look “distinguished.” The whole time I was bouncing my knee, irritated.

Then the PT drove up to our cottage. The night before, she’d left here at midnight to go to her friend’s house in Portland. Dad walked out and hugged her.

“What do you think of Julia?” Mrs. Steele asked. I glanced at my watch. Ian had left a half hour earlier. Did he stop at the marina?

“She’s okay.” They stared at me, waiting. “She’s tall.”

“She has a lot of teeth.” Mr. Steele smiled at me.

“Walter!” Mrs. Steele said. We laughed.

Mrs. Steele brought out a plate of blueberry scones and I ate two, slipping half of the second to Superior. Then I thanked them and left. At the edge of the yard, I looked down. Ian, just a speck in the water, paddled toward me.

Superior and I took the path to the Big House. A Dumpster sat off to the side, empty. I ran back to the cottage. Dad and the PT were on the porch.

“There’s a Dumpster at the Big House,” I said through the screen.

“Really?” Dad asked.

“Does this mean they’re going to tear it down?” I asked.

“That’s a pretty big leap. Everyone would have to agree. I’ll talk to Joel tonight.”

We were going to the Ramseys’ for a cookout. I walked past Bucky and Henry, who were playing with army men in the yard, and looked down at the Steeles’ dock. The kayak was in the water, tied to a post. That wasn’t very responsible of Ian.

“I need your help,” I said to Bucky and Henry. Down on the dock we lifted the kayak and flipped it, then slid the paddles and life jackets underneath.

I knew from my magazine that sit-on-top kayaks were pretty safe. If you tipped, you couldn’t get trapped inside, as in a regular kayak, so you didn’t have to practice rolls or sliding out of the kayak underwater.

I pulled the tarp over the kayak.

Later I sat at the edge of the Ramseys’ lawn, near the stairs that led to their dock. It was nearly dusk and the water below was still and gray. Jake Ramsey and two of his friends did cannonballs off the dock. Earlier Dad had asked me to watch Bucky after dinner so the adults could talk. Bucky and Henry walked on the rocks under the dock.

I glanced at the adults. Mr. Ramsey had said that he didn’t know why the Dumpster was at the Big House and that nothing had been decided. Then he and Dad started talking about the Red Sox.

The PT walked toward me. I pulled Superior close.

“I haven’t really talked to you since Pear Island.” She sat, her back to the water. “You and Ian had fun?”

I nodded. I wanted to talk about him but I didn’t know what to say. I watched Bucky and Henry climb onto the Ramseys’ dock.

The PT took her palm back and forth over the top of the grass. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her white skin was red with sunburn. Maybe she’d realize that the sun wasn’t good for her. Maybe she wouldn’t want to spend summers up here.

Superior sniffed her sandal.

“Has she always been your dog?” the PT asked. I nodded. “That’s nice, huh?”

Was she going to start asking a million questions again?

“How is camp?”

“Fine.”
My voice was sharp. She sat back. Superior pricked her ears, then trotted over to a flower bed.

The PT leaned in. “Listen, Lucy, I want you to know—”

“Superior!” I ran to her. She’d started digging, dirt and flowers flying. When I pulled on her collar, she sat, her nose caked with dirt. I picked up a flower, its stem broken. “Oh, no.”

The PT walked over. “We might be able to save a few of these. I’ll go find a trowel and be right back.” She walked up to the Ramseys’ cottage.

I stood there, staring at the flowers. What did the PT want to tell me? I turned and ran for our cottage.

I gave Superior water and brushed her. Then I sat at my puzzle.

But after fifteen minutes I started feeling guilty about the flower bed and leaving the PT and not thanking the Ramseys
for dinner, so I walked back. The PT was on the porch with the others. The flower bed had been raked, only a few flowers replanted.

I walked to the top of the Ramseys’ stairs and looked down. Henry stood at the end of the dock, watching the older boys swim to the buoy. Where was Bucky?

Then I saw him in the water, halfway to the buoy. I ran down the stairs.

“Bucky, come back!” I screamed. The older boys were nearly at the buoy, way out in the bay. Bucky kept stopping and treading water before swimming again. His strokes were quick and jerky. He was tiring. It was too far for him.

I kicked off my flip-flops and dove into the water. The cold slapped me in the face, then shot down my body. Seaweed skimmed my hands and legs, but I just kept putting one arm over the other. Bucky waited, head bobbing against the open water.

“Are you okay?”

“I thought I could do it.” He cried, gulping breaths.

I treaded water. “Just go on your side. I’ll swim back next to you.”

We faced each other, swimming sidestroke. Superior barked at us from the dock. Bucky whimpered, “It’s too far. I’m too tired.” But I kept telling him, “Breathe. Swim.”

Dad, the PT and the Ramseys were waiting on the dock. I climbed out, followed by Bucky. Dad handed me a towel, then wrapped another around Bucky, who shivered, staring at his feet. Goose bumps broke out all over my body.

“You know you’re not supposed to swim out there on your own,
ever
,” Dad said.

“But I thought I could make it.” Bucky dropped his eyes and sniffled with tears.

“Jake should’ve known Bucky was coming after him,” Mrs. Ramsey said.

“This isn’t Jake’s fault.” Dad turned to me. “Where were
you
? I asked you to watch him.”

I frowned. This was Bucky’s fault. “I just went back to the cottage for a minute.”

“And that’s what you call watching him?”

“Well, Bucky never listens to me, anyway!”

“I don’t?” Bucky said.

I glared at him. Then my shoulders sank, because Dad was right. I
had
been responsible for Bucky. I shivered—the night air was cool—and licked the salt off my lips.

Dad sighed. “Okay, Lucy, you and Buck head back. We’ll be along soon.”

“Thanks for dinner,” I said to Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. “Sorry about the flowers.”

“No harm done,” Mrs. Ramsey said. I started for the cottage, Bucky trailing me.

“Will you turn on the shower?” he asked.

“Sure.” I walked around the cottage to the outdoor shower.

Bucky jumped into the hot stream of water. “Thanks. And I
do
listen to you!”

“Whatever.”

Inside, I took a shower while Superior waited on the
bathroom rug. She knew something was wrong—she kept bumping into me—and finally I bent over and hugged her. “It’s okay, Superior. It’s not your fault.”

I didn’t look at Bucky as we passed each other in the hallway.

Dad waited at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sorry I was so angry, Goose. You always watch Bucky. I know you take a lot of responsibility for him.”

I nodded.

“I got scared,” he said. “Buck’s an okay swimmer, but it was a long way out there. Listen, if you watch him and want to do something else, tell me. And you were brave to go after him. I know you don’t like the water.”

I felt myself soften. “Okay. And I’m sorry I left.”

Dad nodded, then climbed the stairs. I walked onto the porch. The PT was reading on the couch and didn’t look up when I sat at my puzzle. I picked up a blue ocean piece. Or was it the sky? I turned it over in my hand.

The ocean was cold. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d swum that far. But I was fine. I glanced at the PT. If she hadn’t been here, then Dad wouldn’t have asked me to watch Bucky and I wouldn’t have left the Ramseys’. It was her fault.

June bugs bounced off the screens. A cool breeze blew onto the porch and I heard the faint clanging of the buoys in the bay. Then I saw a fit in my puzzle. How easy! Why hadn’t I seen that before?