Frisbee

by Eric Bergreen

ELEVEN

  “Bullshit,” Cory said, drawing the word out, challenging Steve to explain himself.

  Steve sat there looking at each of us in turn, nodding. The day had become brighter and hotter. The temperature had changed considerably in our small conference room. We were sweating.

  “It’s true.”

  “But how?” Jason asked.

  “She was your friend?” I added.

  Steve looked at me, maybe turning the question over in his mind. And then began his explanation of how he had come to know the dead girl.

  “No. She wasn’t a friend really. But I met her a couple of times. You probably don’t remember, Ricky, but Cory and Jason might.”

  I hated when people made such statements as, ‘You probably don’t remember,’ or ‘you were too young, so you wouldn’t remember…’ True, I was only eight, but I’ve always prided myself on my memory.. I can remember things that happened when I was still in diapers. My memory was great. And I did have a small recollection of what Steve was about to tell us, although I wouldn’t have recalled every detail.

  “About two years ago,” Steve began, “my mom had gotten my sister Jackie into a Girl Scout group. Or maybe it was Brownies. Anyway I think she had come across an ad in the Parks and Rec magazine the city sends out every month. So my mom decided it would be a good idea to get Jackie into some sort of activity once a week. You guys know my sister doesn’t really have any friends. I guess she thought this would be a good way to make some.”

  Steve’s sister Jackie tagged along with us every once in a while when we’d go out exploring or play hide n’ seek. She was a nice girl, but like he said she didn’t seem to have very many friends. None of us ever seemed to mind her coming along to the store or The Plunge or any of the other secret places we had found in our part of Corona. And to tell the truth, I had somewhat of a crush on her.

  Steve went on. “Well, for the first couple of meetings, mom had to take Jackie to the other troop member’s houses. They switched off meeting places every week. And by the third week it was mom’s turn to have all the girls over to our house. I remember mom had kicked Jacob out of the house for the evening, just because she was afraid he’d act like an asshole in front of everyone. She asked me to help her out with the meeting, and don’t you guys go and start calling me a Girl Scout or else I’ll pound you. I only did it because… well, shit, she’s my mom. I always try to do what she asks.

  “Anyway, I helped out with little things, like passing out badges a couple of the girls had earned. And they did some project where they glued stuff to a clothespin to make a picture holder or something. And towards the end, just before they were supposed to start cleaning up, I remember Amy came up to me. She couldn’t get the magnet to stick to the back of her clothespin. She looked like she wanted to cry. I guess she wanted to surprise her mom with it, but she was afraid it wasn’t going to turn out right. So I helped her out.

  “I went and got some super glue and we got the magnet to stick just fine. It was actually a pretty cool looking picture holder, and after she let it dry she came up and gave me a hug. You know, like to say thanks. I told her she was welcome and asked her, her name. I can still see her perfectly; her blonde hair, and blue eyes, and brown vest. She said, ‘Amy Garret.’ And the reason why the name stuck in my head is because around that same time I had watched a movie about Billy the Kid. One of his outlaw buddies was named Pat Garret. So the name just stuck I guess.”

  He stopped for a few moments, staring, eyebrows tense, thinking. Then he went on, “She had come over one time after that to play with Jackie, but I didn’t talk to her then. And I think a couple weeks later, mom took Jackie out of Girl Scouts because she had to get a second job and didn’t have enough time to take her to meetings.”

  We all sat there in silence, sweat dotting our lips like salty mustaches. A fat fly buzzed lazily into the playhouse, made a u-turn and headed back out into the sunlight. At last Jason said, “Does Jackie know?”

  Steve snapped out of his reverie and answered him. “No. And I want it to stay that way. Don’t any of you guys tell her about it, okay? Amy was one of the only friends Jackie ever had and I don’t want her finding out what happened.”

  “Alright,” Cory said. “Sorry I didn’t believe you. Man, that sucks.”

  Jason and I bobbed our heads in an agreement not to say anything to Steve’s sister.

  “What about your mom? Does she know?” Jason asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders, his long hair bounced with the motion. “She didn’t say anything about it this morning before she left for work. Then again I don’t think she’d even remember who Amy was. It has been two years.”

  “You remembered,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but my mom’s had a lot going on in her life lately; working two jobs and all. I know she hasn’t stayed in touch with any of the Girl Scout parents.”

  Cory said, “Man, that is crazy.”

  “Yeah,” Steve said. “But hey, enough of this crap. It’s too hot in here. Let’s go back to my house and play Star Trek or something.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. I loved playing Star Trek. We would climb up into the rafters of Steve’s garage where it would be cooler.