The Big Dig

by Lisa Harrington

  Lucy looked around at the field. “Going to be a lot of work. Plus the heat’s wicked.”

  “I feel better when I dig. And it keeps me away from her. I don’t have to worry about saying something I might regret.” The blade of the shovel hit a rock and he made a face. “She needs to say sorry. Because something big like this—like moving halfway across the country—isn’t all up to her. I mean, shouldn’t I get a say?”

  She knew how he felt. But at least at the end of the summer she got to go home and back to her friends. “Yeah. Something like this, you should get a say.”

  Blasting out a giant sigh, he looked past her, up the lane. “You’re staying with Josie, huh? My mom told me about her, back in the old days, when we were speaking. She’s supposed to be a riot.”

  “Yup. A real barrel of laughs.”

  “Mom’s been threatening to drag me over to meet you,” he said.

  “I was kind of threatened too. It wasn’t my idea to…you know….” She held up the glass.

  “Yeah, you mentioned that.”

  Right.

  “It’s Lucy, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “Colin,” he said.

  She nodded again.

  He tilted his head. “Lucy. Don’t think I know a Lucy. Is it short for anything? Lucille?”

  “Ew. No.”

  “Lucy from Charlie Brown? ’Cause that’d be kind of cool.”

  “No.” At least she didn’t think so.

  “I have this thing about names, how people got theirs. Weird, huh?”

  “Not really,” she lied.

  “Like, I was named after my mom’s favourite soap opera character. I don’t spread that around, though.”

  “Oh.” General Hospital? Another World? She tried to remember which one had a Colin.

  “Maybe you’re named after a soap star too,” he said. “Bet there’s a Lucy on one of them.”

  She couldn’t think of any. “Maybe my mom just liked the name.”

  “You should ask her. Might be a story there.”

  I should have. Why didn’t I? “I can’t. She, uh, died.”

  Red crept up his neck. “Right.” He looked down and kicked at some loose rocks. “I knew that. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I guess I forgot for a sec.”

  “Really, it’s okay. Umm….” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. She wanted to ask him how he knew. Must have been his mom. “I should probably go.”

  “Well, thanks for the drink,” he said.

  “It was—”

  “Not your idea. Yeah, I know.”

  She started towards the lane.

  “I’m here pretty much every morning!” he called after her. “You could come and hang out you know, if you’re bored. I know I am.”

  “Uh, yeah, maybe,” she answered, not very loudly, and without turning around.

  “Okay! Maybe I’ll see you later then!” he shouted.

  She started walking faster.

  That did not go at all the way I planned it.

  For the first morning since she’d arrived, Lucy didn’t wake to the sound of shovelling. She woke to a completely different sound. A sound she couldn’t identify. It was mechanical, and it seemed to be right next to her head. Tossing back her covers, she thumped down the hall to the room next door. There was Josie, sitting at a sewing machine, foot pressed to the pedal, running a long length of fabric under the needle. She was totally unaware of how much noise she was making or that Lucy was standing in the doorway. The machine was against the same wall as Lucy’s bed, which explained all the racket.

  A cigarette was hanging out of Josie’s mouth, the curve of the ash bending straight downwards. Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off it, waiting for it to fall onto the material at any second. She was afraid to stomp her foot in case the vibration caused it to break off.

  Josie paused, squinting through the smoke as she cut a strand of thread. But that curve of ash was still hanging on for dear life.

  Lucy held her breath. Flick the ash! She was about to rush over and cup her hands under the cigarette when Josie finally transferred the cigarette to an ashtray.

  Lucy’s breath gushed out and she stomped her foot.

  Josie looked up. “Did I wake you?”

  “A bit.” Lucy said. “I’m going down for breakfast.”

  “Put the coffee on.”

  Lucy measured out the coffee and plugged in the percolator. After a minute, the smell filled the kitchen, and she drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter as she listened to the hissing and gurgling.

  Josie came in just as the coffee finished perking.

  The sugar bowl was empty. Lucy held it out, turning it on its side so Josie could see. “Sugar?”

  “Here.” Josie opened the cupboard and pulled out a large plastic ice cream container. Inside were hundreds of sugar packets, the kind from restaurants and coffee shops. “Anytime I’m out somewhere, I just throw a few extra in my purse.”

  A few? “Isn’t that like stealing?” Lucy asked.

  “Last word again?”

  “Stealing,” Lucy repeated carefully.

  “Pfft. That’s what I thought you said.”

  “Well, isn’t it?”

  “Do you have rocks in your head?” She flicked her hand. “They factor all that into the price. Some people use no sugar, I only put in one, and then there’s people like you, who use four or five sugars. It all evens out.”

  “I guess….” But she wasn’t so sure as she watched Josie tear the tops off a bunch of packets and pour them into the bowl.

  Lucy sipped her coffee sweetened with sugar of questionable origins and curled up on the porch swing with another of Josie’s Harlequins. She’d finished the last one in a day and a half, and it had been pretty good. More than pretty good. She hadn’t been able to put it down. This one was called A New Nanny for the King, and she could tell from the cover that it was going to be even better. A girl in a green velvet ball gown was dancing with a gorgeous, shirtless guy. Who goes to a ball with no shirt? And the King—he was wearing a crown—was in the background, arms folded, glaring at them. Oooh. There was definitely going to be a love triangle. Perfect!

  She glanced towards the lane. It bordered one end of Colin’s field. He wasn’t there this morning. It was weird. It was also weird that Josie hadn’t asked how their meeting went. She’d just looked very pleased with herself when Lucy brought back the empty glass. How did she know Lucy had even gone through with it? How did she know Lucy hadn’t pretended to go and then just poured out the glass? Because that had crossed her mind. Probably another one of her reverse-psychology tricks—she didn’t want to make a fuss about it.

  Opening her book, she tried to concentrate on the first page, but her eyes kept drifting back to the lane. She strained her ears. Still no shovelling. Hmm…he’d told her he was there every morning. Maybe this was his way of letting her know he’d changed his mind, that he didn’t want any company.

  Fine by me. I wasn’t planning on going over anyway.

  Chapter 8

  Lucy lay in bed, one arm thrown across her eyes to block the sun. The shovelling—it was back. She got up and checked out her window. Yup, there he is.

  He looked up and waved, that same giant sweep of a wave. Maybe he hadn’t been sending a message that he’d changed his mind after all. He could have just been sick or something.

  She supposed it wouldn’t kill her to go talk to him for a few minutes. She could take pity on him, do him a huge favour. He had mentioned how bored he was. And he’d sure appreciated the drink. It’s not like she had anything better to do, which was quickly becoming the theme of her summer.

  Josie was sitting on the sewing machine stool, winding thread onto a bobbin. Lucy stomped her foot and wai
ted for Josie to look up. “Do you have any more Kool-Aid?” She held an imaginary glass to her mouth and tilted her head back.

  “There should be some packets on the freezer door.”

  “Thanks.” Lucy wasn’t surprised. Josie froze everything. In the kitchen, she swung open the freezer door. The first thing she saw was two jars of Miracle Whip. The mixture had separated, white on the bottom, yellowy oil on the top. Lucy shuddered and moved a package of Kraft cheese singles to get to the Kool-Aid packets underneath.

  After she’d finished her breakfast, Lucy mixed some cherry Kool-Aid. It took a lot of stirring because the powder had turned a bit chunky from being frozen, but it tasted fine.

  “Did you ask him what he was doing out there?” Josie asked, coming into the kitchen.

  Lucy shrugged. “It’s like a protest or something.”

  Josie pulled a cigarette from behind her ear, stuck it in her mouth.

  “He’s trying to make a point,” Lucy added, pouring a glass of Kool-Aid.

  Josie frowned. “Say it again.”

  Lucy looked up. “A protest.” She shook her fists in the air. “He’s trying to make a point.”

  Smoke filled the air. Josie still looked confused.

  “Something to do with having to move here. He didn’t want to,” Lucy explained. “But his mom didn’t care. The hole is supposed to represent his”—she began running on the spot—“escape.”

  Josie raised her eyebrows. “Escape from what?”

  “I dunno.” Lucy shrugged again. “His parents’ control? I’m not sure. I only talked to him for like, five minutes.”

  “That’s the trouble with you kids today,” Josie said, taking a drag off her cigarette. “You think the whole world revolves around you. What you really need is a good kick in the arse.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and picked up the glass. Josie thought everyone needed a good kick in the arse.

  “Tell Colin to let his mom know we’ll bring over a basket of homemade goodies once she’s had a bit of time to settle in.”

  Don’t you mean warn him? Josie had made cookies the other day. When Lucy took a bite, her tooth had hit something—she still didn’t know what—and she had had to take an aspirin for the pain, as well as a Tums for her upset stomach.

  “Um, yeah, okay.”

  At least she would get the introduction to Esther she wanted.

  Hopefully no one would break a tooth or be struck down with food poisoning as a result.

  Lucy kept her eyes on the rim of the glass, trying to keep the juice from sloshing as she walked down the lane. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. And all on her own. Guess boredom can make you desperate.

  Colin looked up when he saw her. “Hey.” He jammed his shovel into a mound of dirt.

  “Hey.” She passed him the Kool-Aid and crawled up to sit on a flat rock. He still had on the same grody T-shirt and shorts. Guess the moving truck hasn’t shown up yet.

  The girls in the Harlequins got all swoony whenever they saw a sweaty guy.

  Lucy sat perfectly still for a second, checking to see if she felt any different. Nope. Must only work in romance novels.

  “Did Josie make you come?”

  “No. Didn’t have anything better to do.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he said, then he downed his drink all at once, just like before, and passed it back to her. “But I hear ya.”

  Lucy set the glass down on the grass and tried to think of something to say. “You weren’t here yesterday.”

  “No. Thursday’s Mom’s grocery day. I had to babysit my brother and sister.”

  “Oh, you have a brother and sister?”

  “Yup. They’re five. Twins.”

  Colin had to be about…fifteen or sixteen? Lucy did some mental math. That’s a big age difference.

  “Yeah, we’re almost eleven years apart,” he said as if reading her mind. “I keep telling them they were an accident.”

  “No.” Lucy looked horrified. “You do not tell them that.”

  “I do when they tick me off. It’s okay. They don’t even know what it means.” He smiled mischievously. “But they keep going to Mom and asking, so….”

  Lucy laughed out loud.

  He picked up his shovel. “I’m going to start over there and see how long it takes me to make it back over to the big hole.”

  “Okay.” Lucy frowned. “Want me to time you or something?”

  His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Time me.”

  Holding up a finger, she looked at her watch. “And…go!”

  As she watched him dig, she couldn’t help thinking he reminded her of someone. Who? She thought for moment while she kept track of the time. Jean Pierre! From clarinet class. Jean Pierre, who she wanted to punch on a regular basis. They were both tall and thin, with the same stringy hair. Please don’t let Colin have the same personality.

  He was almost to the hole’s edge when she remembered Josie’s message. “I’m supposed to tell you to tell your mom that we’re bringing over some homemade treats later, after you guys are settled, I guess.”

  Colin immediately stopped and straightened. “Really?”

  So much for the timing. “Yeah.”

  “Should I be scared?”

  Lucy was about to ask why when it dawned on her. “Oh. You’re aware of Josie’s—”

  “Cooking skills? Yeah. Mom’s got loads of stories.”

  Lucy nodded. “She’s legendary.”

  “How are you even surviving, anyway?”

  “It’s not so bad. She doesn’t make me eat anything I don’t want or can’t recognize. And thankfully—I’m not saying she’s lazy or anything—but she doesn’t cook that much. I don’t think she likes it. So…I eat a lot of frozen waffles. And bread. She makes amazing bread.” Lucy paused and scratched her forehead. “You’d think if you could master bread, you could master other things. But nope.”

  “Keep crackers and a jar of peanut butter under your bed, that’s what I do. And cereal’s a good backup too.”

  “Your mom can’t cook either?”

  “No, she can. I’m just always hungry.” He started digging again. “It’s all the fresh air and exercise I’m getting.”

  Lucy smiled. “Actually, I already thought of cereal. But it’s the milk. Josie has powdered milk. I can’t even explain how gross it looks. The lumps.” She cringed. “I can’t bring myself to even try it.”

  “Man. I’m sorry,” Colin said, flinging a load of dirt to his side.

  “I’ll be okay. I forgot to say she loves bananas, so they’re always around. And marshmallows. She always has marshmallows.”

  Colin drove his shovel under a big rock and tried to pry it up. “Well, when it comes to our welcome basket, maybe you could get her to stick to bread. Like, tell her it’s our favourite thing.”

  “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

  That night Lucy’s dad called, and she was surprised how good it felt to hear his voice. He talked about the Bennets next door having their sprinkler on all day even though they were supposed to be conserving water because there’d been no rain. He told her he’d run into Sadie and her mom at the IGA and they said to say hi and that they missed her. It made Lucy sad to think of her dad going to the grocery store by himself, then going home and cooking his dinner alone. She had planned on giving him the silent treatment for the first half of the conversation and then causing a stink over how Josie was still making her do stuff she didn’t want to do, but the moment passed. It just didn’t seem that important anymore.

  It was official. Lucy was actually getting sick of waffles. She’d be willing to trade almost anything for a bowl of Rice Krispies with real milk. She hung on the freezer door and scanned the contents. Sighing, she pushed aside a giant bone wrapped in plastic wrap—Please don’t be human—then pulled out a new b
ox of waffles and tossed two in the toaster.

  With zero enthusiasm, she plunked herself down at the table and carefully filled the waffle holes with syrup. Some habits were hard to break.

  “The tide’s finally starting to switch around,” Josie announced, sitting down across from her. “Should have enough water for a swim today.”

  For almost a week the tide had been low during the daytime. Lucy had tried to go for a swim a couple times but she would wade straight out for what seemed like a mile and the water never got past her knees.

  Josie leaned back in her chair. “What do you got going on today, missy?”

  Lucy shrugged and poked at her waffles. She didn’t feel much like eating them.

  “You’ve got a pout on about something,” Josie said, snapping back the lid on her lighter.

  Here it was, her moment. Say something. “Your milk. It’s not like my milk at home.”

  Josie looked confused.

  “Milk,” Lucy repeated, doing her holding-a-glass-and-drinking move. “Yours is different. I like store milk. In a carton. And I have money,” she added quickly, rubbing her fingers together. “I’ll pay, next time at the grocery store.”

  “You’re off your rocker,” Josie said.

  She got up, took the jug from the fridge, shook it, poured a glass, and set it in front of Lucy. “Drink that and tell me it’s not the best milk you’ve ever tasted.”

  Lucy rolled her lips inward over her teeth and shook her head.

  Josie sighed loudly. “Just try it.”

  Lucy stared at the glass. Okay, she could do this. If she drank it and still didn’t like it, what could Josie say? At least she could say she tried, right? She lowered her head, eye level with the glass. It was so…beige. And there they were. Tiny, chunky, yellow floaties. Like boogers. Even if she did manage to swallow a mouthful, there’s no way it would stay down. She shook her head again and, using one finger, she pushed the glass back across the table, away from her, as if it was an unexploded grenade.

  There was complete silence as their eyes locked.