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Authors: Tara McTiernan

Barefoot Girls (15 page)

BOOK: Barefoot Girls
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Right in front of Zooey stood Keeley O’Brien, one of the prettiest girls on Captain’s. Blond and angelic looking with her perfect little face, you’d never guess how much trouble she caused on the island. Well, the trouble was caused by both her and her friend, Pam, who was standing right next to her in line for the contest. The little Monroe boy being locked in the island’s only telephone booth? Pam and Keeley. The fire that started in the small wooded area in the center of the island? Pam and Keeley. That snooty older girl’s pink training bra hanging from the firehouse’s flagpole? Probably Pam and Keeley.

Now it was Pam’s turn, and she walked proudly out to the end of the diving board. Muscular and tanned a warm biscuit-brown, her red hair was a shock on top of her head. Redheads were pale and freckled, thin and sickly looking – at least that’s what Zooey always thought until she met Pam. Pam raised her arms above her head quickly and dove into the water, trying to do a flip, but her legs didn’t straighten out in time before she hit the water. It was a dive for a high board, not a shallow dock’s diving board, but Pam popped out of the water grinning, hands above her head in triumph.

Keeley cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone and shouted, “That’s the way, Pammy! That’s the way it’s done!”

“Woo hoo!” Pam shouted back and started swimming away toward the ladder. Zooey liked Pam. She was never mean to Zooey, never made fun of her. Both Pam and Keeley called her Zooey, not Zork. Plus they were from down-island, where all the friendly people lived. Zooey had asked her parents if they could move and get a new house down-island and they had laughed, as if she was joking.

Keeley walked out on the dock in her pink and white striped bathing suit that perfectly flattered her tawny skin. Some of the kids started clapping for her. Practically everyone knew she was the mastermind behind many of the practical jokes and hijinks that the two girls got up to – she was practically a celebrity among the six-to-eight year old crowd.

Keeley turned around and bowed. “Thank ya, thank ya! Thank ya very much!”

She spun around, straightened, and dove – a perfect swan dive, pointed toes disappearing into the water with barely a ripple.

Now all the kids were clapping and hooting. Keeley’s head popped out of the water looking sleek like a little golden seal. She turned and smiled widely at all the kids on the dock, apparently delighted and surprised by the hubbub.

“Well, well, well!” Mr. McAllister said, his voice booming out from the lawn chair he had set up to perform his judging duties. “Looks like we might have a winner here, folks! But, we have a few more in the seven year old category. Can you top her?”

All eyes turned to Zooey and there was a low ripple of laughter. One of the boys, Stephen Crane, who always made a point of making fun of Zooey whenever he saw her, couldn’t resist. “It’s the Stork! Show us how you flap your wings, Zork!”

The other kids laughed openly now. It was okay to laugh at Zooey because she was a klutz, which was the ultimate sin on Captain’s. To be a real islander, you had to be strong and athletic, golden and proud under the summer sun. Skinny tall pale klutz-girls need not apply. Being from up-island was her final seal of doom.

“Hey! Shut up, you guys!”

Zooey, who had tightened up so much her shoulders were around her ears, jerked in surprise. She looked around for the source of the voice. A girl’s voice. From below. In the water.

“Shut up!” Keeley said, treading water and furrowing her brow at the kids who were laughing. “Stop being jerks! Be quiet!”

The laughter died, mostly due to shock. Keeley had just defended Zork.

Zooey was frozen. She couldn’t believe it.

“Well, c’mon!” Mr. McAllister shouted from his lawn chair. “We don’t have all day! Move it along!”

Zooey, feeling numb with wonder, stepped onto the gritty diving board. She still couldn’t dive, even if a miracle had just happened, if she tried she knew she’d fail. But, no, she would try. For Keeley.

Zooey walked out to the end of the board and tried to remember all the patient lessons with her gentle and grandfather-like father. His soft scratchy voice repeating the same instructions again and again as he stood beside her on their dock. Arms overhead, curl toes over edge, bend at the waist, push off with your toes.

Zooey curled her toes over the edge of the diving board, and closed her eyes. She raised her hands over her head and put her hands together as if in prayer. Bend and push!

Her legs slapped down on the surface entering the water, but it wasn’t a belly flop for once. Not a perfect dive, but not a belly flop! She had done a real dive!

Zooey swam back up to the surface and wiped the hair off her face. The kids were distracted, talking to each other, not looking at her. Mr. McAllister’s voice boomed, “Nice try, kid! Okay, next?”

Zooey swam toward the ladder and climbed out, feeling high, as if she had won. At the top of the ladder Keeley and Pam were talking. When Zooey reached the dock, Keeley looked over at her. “Good dive!” she said, and smiled at her. Zooey felt a surge of something like love and smiled back at her. Keeley and Pam turned and walked away together, toward the edge of the dock where the other kids who had already dived were sitting or standing and watching the rest of the divers. Zooey followed them.

Mr. McAllister was shouting out the winners for the five, six, and seven year olds. Keeley had, of course, won for their age group. Keeley grinned, and tucked her chin under modestly as the other kids started clapping again for her. Pam planted a big dramatic kiss on Keeley’s forehead. Zooey stood as near to them as she dared, feeling higher and happier than she had ever felt on Captain’s.

The eight year olds went and then it was the nine year olds that were up. Most of the nine year olds on the island were boys, with only one skinny anemic-looking blond girl named Frances and another girl named Rose. Rose was the kind of girl that permanently had her nose up in the air. She, like Zooey, was from up-island and lived in one of the largest most opulent old homes. Also, like Zooey, she was an only child, but that was where the similarity ended.

When it was her turn, Rose tossed her hair back and walked, slim and straight in a navy-blue designer bathing suit that must have cost a fortune, to the end of the diving board. She stood there and bounced a little, flexing her muscles. Her dark hair was perfectly coiffed in a neat flip, as if a hair stylist had been brought in to prepare her for her big moment. In fact, it was possible. She looked around to make sure everyone was paying attention to her, staring hard at those kids who were having private conversations until they stopped and looked at her.

Once she had all eyes on her, she walked back up the diving board and turned to make a running dive. Gracefully, like a ballerina, she lifted her arms above her head and then took off running.

It would have been a perfect dive. Zooey had seen Rose dive over and over from their dock three doors down and had marveled at the older girl’s dedication. The problem now was that the end of the board was wet from all the divers who had stood on it before, their feet wet from practice. Rose slipped in the little puddle there.

For a moment, it was like everything was in slow motion: Rose losing her footing at the end of the board, sliding and then flying off the board, arms wheeling. Then hoity-toity all-knowing better-than-everyone Rose flopped into the water, a huge splash.

There was a moment of silent awe. Then Rose’s head popped up, and her face screwed up in an ugly way. “That board!” She shook, sputtered and then screamed, “It’s that board’s fault! Redo! I demand a second chance!”

The disparity between the usual cool snooty Rose and this red-faced shaking Rose was too much.

“Huh, huh, huh,” Pam started laughing in her low voice.

“Ha!” Keeley convulsed, her face screwed up from an effort not to laugh. “Ha!”

Rose’s head whipped around in the water and her eyes narrowed. She was looking right at them!

The other kids started laughing, too, also trying to control themselves. Rose wasn’t just a snotty bitch, she was really mean. Hearing the other kids’ laughter made Keeley and Pam convulse even more, helpless. “Ha! Ha! Oh, no!”

Rose started swimming toward the ladder. The laughter swelled even more, the kind of uncontrollable laughter that happened when you knew you weren’t supposed to laugh, church laughter or piano recital laughter. Even Zooey started laughing. Rose had looked so surprised when she slipped! How her eyes had popped out! The way her leg went out like that and her arms flew around all crazy!

Rose, having practically vaulted up the ladder, was stalking down the dock toward them and her eyes were hard and sharp and looking right at Keeley. Zooey felt a zinging feeling going up her spine and the laughter died in her throat. Pam and Keeley were bent over, hanging on each other, gasping with laughter. They didn’t see Rose’s approach.

Rose walked right up to Keeley, grabbed her by the arm and yanked Keeley toward her. Keeley made a tiny peeping yelp that probably would have been loud if there had been more air in her lungs.

Keeley turned up her face to look at Rose, face streaming with tears and lips quivering still with hilarity. Rose released Keeley’s arm, raised her hand in the air and brought it down on Keeley’s face. The smack was so loud it practically echoed. There were gasps and squeals from all the kids on the dock.

All humor drained out of Keeley’s face and her normally rosy face turned white with the exception of the red skin on the cheek where she’d been hit. Then Zooey saw something even more shocking: fear in Keeley’s eyes. Actual fear on that beautiful always-brave face.

Zooey couldn’t stand it. Without thinking, she grabbed at Rose’s arm. Rose spun around and looked at Zooey. Seeing who it was, she sneered and said, “What Zork? What do you want?”

Zooey would wipe that sneer off her face. She raised her arm and brought her hand down on Rose’s face, hard. Being exactly the same height despite their age difference, Zooey was able to give her a solid slap, making Rose’s head snap back in a satisfying way.

Another gasp went up in the crowd, this one even louder.

A little sweet-looking curly-headed blonde girl standing on the other side of Pam said, “Yay! Slap that bitch!” Zooey glanced over at the little girl and then back at Rose, preparing for the worst. Who was that girl? Oh, it was Amy, the tiniest seven year old she’d ever seen.  She looked about four or five. Had she really just said "slap that bitch"?

Rose’s hand went to her quickly reddening cheek and she looked at Zooey with surprise. Pam, who had finally recovered from her laughter and had been standing still in shock all this time, walked over to Zooey and wrapped her arms around her in a big hug. “I love you, Zooey. I should have been the one to do that. You are the best.” Pam looked defiantly at Rose over her shoulder as she hugged Zooey.

Keeley joined the group hug, embracing Zooey from the other side. “Yeah!” she said, pressing her burning face against Zooey’s skinny bare arm and staring down Rose.

Rose looked at the three of them hugging and wrinkled her nose up like she smelled something bad. “Ew! Gross! Keep your lezzie loving to yourselves!”

Pam smiled and said, “You just wish you were part of this little pile up, don’t you, Miss Priss?”

Rose’s mouth turned down, her lovely face contorting into a sneering mask. “You’re just a bunch of low life scummy nobodies. That’s all you’ll ever be. Nothing.  No one.” She spat out the last words. She looked around at the crowd as if noticing everyone for the first time. “God,” she said softly, and then turned and walked away, pushing at kids who got in her way and knocking over a little red-headed boy who landed on his butt, looked up in surprise, and started crying.

Excited chatter rose up all around them. Mr. McAllister could be heard yelling, “Who was that little girl again? What was her name?” Adults, who were suddenly aware of the drama, rushed the dock seeking out their children. A fat blonde woman in an unfortunate pink bikini that squeezed her body into deeper rolls scooped up the crying little boy and shushed him while cuddling and rocking him, looking around for the source of his distress.

The girls separated and looked at each other. Amy walked over to them and slapped Zooey on the lower back, the highest she could reach. “That was so cool!” Amy said. “Thank you for smacking her. She has pinched me, like, three hundred million times, I swear. And she always gets away with it, ‘cause she’s Rose, you know? My mother actually tells me to be more like her! Like
her
!”

Zooey nodded, “Trust me, I know. We only live three houses away from her. My mother’s always like, 'You should try to be friends with Rose Griffin. She’s such a lovely girl.'” Zooey imitated her mother’s fluttering and misguided adoration of Rose, her hands pressed together as if in prayer, her eyes heavenward as if that was where girls like Rose came from.

“Wow, really?” Pam said. “I’m so glad my mother never said that. Well, I don’t think she even knows any of the kids. She never leaves our house here. Just sits on the porch and reads. Dad does everything.”

Keeley put her hand on Zooey’s arm. “Thank you so much, Zooey. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t hit her.  She freaked me out.”

Zooey remembered the naked fear in Keeley’s eyes, how horrible it was to see. And yet it had been the moment when she had actually felt a connection with another kid on Captain’s. They were all so brave and confident, so capable and at ease. Fear leveled the playing field. “Of course, what are friends for?” she said, shrugging a little.

BOOK: Barefoot Girls
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