Silver Meadows Summer

by Emma Otheguy

Daniel gave Carolina a puzzled look. “Um, yeah there is. He gave me ten whole dollars, remember?”

  * * *

  —

  At dinner, everyone was talking at once. Uncle Porter toasted to Mami, and Daniel clinked his spoon against his glass until Gabriela told him to knock it off. But she said it in a way that made Daniel laugh, and Carolina wished she were like that, wished she were more buddy-buddy when she told Daniel to stop.

  Tía Cuca called for music, and the next thing Caro knew, Chiquifancy’s music blasted from the speakers and her family was a blur, everyone dancing the Fancy: Mami with Papi, Uncle Porter with Gabriela, Tía Cuca with Daniel.

  “Come on, Caro!” Tía Cuca stepped to the left, clapped, and sang to the music, “Cha-cha conmigo,” motioning for Caro to join her.

  Carolina sat up straight. The kitchen reminded her of family parties in San Juan. There weren’t quite as many people, not the crowds that used to appear at Abuela Carmen’s on holidays, but they were celebrating just as merrily. Mami pulled Caro to her feet, and Carolina wished she wouldn’t. Now they were all sliding to the right and shimmying, and Caro felt ridiculous. She wanted to sit and listen again, to let the music carry her away into memory.

  Then the song shifted, and where Chiqui’s bright rhythms had been, there was now Cuban music: the flute, sweet and high. Mami and Papi swayed together, and they were like a breeze on the terraza, damp from the sea. Carolina could almost feel it on her skin.

  “Let’s go see a movie this weekend to celebrate,” Tía Cuca said when the song ended.

  Everyone launched into what was playing and what they wanted to see, but Carolina noticed Papi’s silence when he and Mami parted. He sat in a kitchen chair, staring into space while the others looked up movie times on their phones and loudly recounted previews. Carolina scooted closer to him. “You’re next,” she said quietly, so no one else could hear. “You’re going to find something soon.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  His smile was a little sad, but it was real. “I’ll figure something out.” He placed his hand over Carolina’s, his ring shining under the high spotlights of Tía Cuca’s kitchen. “Acuérdate—”

  “Caminante, no hay camino.”

  Carolina thought back to those blurry days of packing, when there had been no time for drawing, no time for dreaming, only days of helping Mami, rushing to get things into suitcases or to relatives or into storage. She wondered what would happen to that storage unit. She’d labeled the cardboard boxes so carefully, writing out their contents in her neatest handwriting on each side.

  Papi had played his music, setting his phone down on whatever surface he could find, and taking it with him when he moved to another room. It had annoyed Mami, the way she kept finding the music in unexpected places. But it was something Carolina loved about Papi. She hadn’t heard that music for weeks now, and with a sharp inhale she realized that she wanted her family to find their own place, a place where Papi could leave his music on in every room. Carolina realized that Papi, too, had been playing perfect in Tía Cuca’s house.

  Papi smelled like hair gel and violets, and he pushed away the scentless sterility of the house, pulling Caro close to him. Carolina hummed, then, in the absence of the music that had been there a moment ago, she sang softly, sang the Caminante song.

  “What are you singing?” Gabriela asked curiously.

  Before Papi could answer, Carolina explained. “It’s a song my dad likes. It comes from a poem by Antonio Machado.” And Carolina set about teaching Gabriela.

  Caminante, no hay camino,

  Traveler, there is no path,

  se hace camino al andar….

  you make your path by walking….

  Caminante, no hay camino,

  Traveler, there is no path,

  sino estelas en la mar.

  only your wake upon the sea.

  Fairly pleased with her translation, Carolina let Gabriela think about the words. Then, with a flip of her hair, Gabriela announced, “I want to learn it in Spanish.”

  “Are you two talking about poetry?” Mami called from the sink, where she was loading the dishwasher. “I tell you, Gonzalo and Caro,” she said to Tía Cuca, “you’d think they were the English teachers, not me.”

  Tía Cuca cleared Papi’s and Carolina’s plates and brought them over to Mami. “We’re lucky to have such smart kids, Ana.”

  “Caro is bright, isn’t she?” Mami said.

  Carolina stopped to watch them for a while. She saw Mami smile as she ran the plates under the water, and she knew that as casual as Mami kept her tone, she was bragging about Carolina and Papi. Mami was proud, and Carolina basked in it before turning back to Gabriela and repeating again, “Ca-mi-nan-te.”

  So they were staying, Carolina thought as Papi told her more about Machado, the Spanish poet who himself had moved somewhere new, written his poems about a land that wasn’t his own. They were staying, and somehow, Carolina would find her path.

  That night, there was a storm, a huge downpour of rain so loud it could be heard in the house, and thunderclaps whose booms shook Carolina’s chest. Daniel ran into Caro’s room at the first sign of the storm, and they stayed awake for a long time, huddling close when the lightning illuminated the windows with its electric blue.

  * * *

  —

  The next day was perfect, which made Gabriela’s job at camp all the easier. As soon as lunch was over, she sauntered up to Lydia. “Do we have a lot of activities lined up, Lydia? Because this is the sort of day you just want to soak in, isn’t it?” She motioned to the windows, where the sky was clear cerulean.

  Lydia glanced at her clipboard. “Your group was supposed to have barn cleaning, and the little kids were going to do some gardening—but I do have Brian all day today—”

  Alyssa inadvertently helped them out. “Have Brian do it, then! It’s his job. The rest of us are supposed to be having fun, aren’t we?”

  Lydia wrinkled her nose and looked like she wanted to argue with Alyssa, but then she shook her head. “You kids are just angling for more free time, aren’t you? Well, all right.” She clapped her hands, and everyone turned toward her. “By special request,” she announced to the camp, “I’m giving you the whole afternoon off from activities. It’s a gorgeous day and you can all go enjoy yourselves around the farm. But”—she whistled for attention—“if I hear anything from the counselors about you giving them trouble, then we go right back to our scheduled activities, okay?”

  Everyone cheered, and Lydia ushered them toward the door. “See you all at three o’clock for dismissal!”

  The sky was so clear that Carolina wished she could stop and paint it, an enormous canvas of blue, all blue. She didn’t want to look down, even as she followed Jennifer past the tetherball and swing sets to the far gate, sensing Gabriela close behind them.

  Suddenly, Jamie sidled up next to Gabriela. “What do you want to do now, Gabs?”

  Carolina looked over her shoulder, prodding Jennifer to stop.

  Shockingly, Alyssa was nowhere to be seen, and it was just Jamie, in a plain T-shirt, blue like the sky, smiling innocently at them.

  “I’m not hanging out with you and Alyssa today,” Gabriela said stiffly.

  Jamie’s face clouded. “Are you still mad at Alyssa? She told me you were mad. It’s not her, though, Gabs, it’s her parents—”

  Before Jamie could finish her sentence, Alyssa came hurrying toward them. “Jams! What are you doing?”

  She stopped short when she saw Gabriela.

  “Hi,” Alyssa said tersely.

  “Hi,” Gabriela replied.

  Alyssa adjusted her barrette, pink as always. Her hair was fine and straight, not a strand ever fell out of place, and Carolina wasn’t quite sure what the barrette was supposed to be doing. For the first time, she w
ondered if maybe the barrette was someone else’s choice. Carolina hadn’t met Alyssa’s mom, but she was getting the impression that she was a pink-barrette kind of person.

  “What are you going to do today?” Alyssa asked.

  “Oh, you know, just hang out with my cousin.” Gabriela threw an arm around Carolina.

  Alyssa nodded, too quickly. “Did you talk to your dad about the Chiquifancy concert? Is he going to take you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then, with a flourish, Gabriela added, “It’s not like my family really likes Chiquifancy or anything. Why would you think that?”

  Alyssa’s eyes grew wide. “I just thought—maybe your dad would convince my dad. You know, we had said…” Alyssa thrust something into Gabriela’s hand. “I made this for you.”

  Gabriela was flabbergasted.

  Since Alyssa usually spent craft time talking, Carolina couldn’t help her curiosity. She leaned over to see.

  It was a necklace, with a pendant made of cardboard and glitter. Chiquifancy’s face was pasted on, then heavily layered with clear gloss. It looked pretty good—trendy, and something Gabriela might actually wear.

  “Since we’ve been having all the extra craft time. I thought you might like it, but if you’re not into Chiqui anymore—”

  Gabriela suddenly found her voice. “I’ll put it on right now.” She tied it around her neck and fingered the diamond-shaped pendant. “Thank you. If you wanted, you could—”

  “Come over after camp!” Carolina finished for her, taking Gabriela by the shoulders.

  “Really?” Alyssa stepped toward them.

  “Yeah,” Gabriela said, “or you could come—”

  “Help Brian!” Carolina said, in a stroke of brilliance.

  Jennifer chimed in, “You know, it’s a hot day, and it’s really not fair to Brian. Someone’s got to scrape the poop in the barn, and it might as well be us.”

  Alyssa stopped in her tracks, Jamie alongside her. “Oh,” she said. “Well, I’ll call you after camp, Gabs.”

  “Yeah,” Gabriela said, still holding the pendant.

  They made their way vaguely in the direction of the barn at first, looking over their shoulders constantly.

  “Is Alyssa going to follow us?” Jennifer asked nervously.

  Gabriela shook her head slowly. “No. She doesn’t like barns. Alyssa’s more like a city person even though she’s from Larksville.”

  As they made their way down the path and Gabriela expertly swung herself over the fence and followed Jennifer through the tall grass, Carolina realized that Gabriela, in her own way, was a country girl too.

  They crossed the creek and hiked to the cottage. Gabriela hummed Chiquifancy songs to herself, and Jennifer and Caro were silent.

  “You know, you don’t have to stay with us,” Jennifer said as they reached the burnt-orange tiles. “You’ve already gotten us the extra time.”

  “I want to. It’s just—” Gabriela stepped over the threshold of the cottage. “Maybe we could invite Alyssa and Jamie to come next time?”

  “What?”

  Carolina dropped her backpack in one of the chairs. “It’s supposed to be a secret. We agreed yesterday. You promised!”

  “Yesterday I didn’t know Alyssa wanted to hang out.”

  “But—Jennifer and I come here to work.”

  “You’re eleven. You don’t work.”

  “Just because you’re thirteen,” Jennifer said defensively, “doesn’t mean you can tell us what to do.”

  “I’m not telling you what to do,” Gabriela burst out. “I just want to invite my friends, and you aren’t letting me!” She turned to Carolina, her hair whipping around as she did. “When you moved here I had to invite you everywhere. My parents wouldn’t let me do anything without asking you to come. And now— Oh, forget about it.” Gabriela stormed toward the door. “I’m going to go get Alyssa. See you in a while.”

  “Gabriela!” Carolina screamed, but Gabriela had taken off into the woods.

  They ran after her, but Gabriela had a lead on them. Her long legs carried her farther and faster, and she was out of sight in a flash. They sprinted in the direction she’d gone, but it was impossible to keep it up, and they fell into a panting and exhausted heap.

  They were totally off the trail now, and beneath the trees, this crystal-clear day was actually a little chilly. The dry breeze on her sweaty skin surprised Carolina.

  “Hey!” Carolina stooped and picked up a dirty white ribbon off the ground, still breathing heavily. “Isn’t this one of our trail markers?”

  Jennifer took it and held it up. “It is,” she said slowly. “But we’re not anywhere near there; we’ve been walking across the hill, not down it.”

  Carolina scanned the trees around them, trying to orient herself. “The storm must have carried it away last night.” Tentatively, she called, “Gabriela?”

  There was no answer.

  “Here.” Jennifer took the ribbon and tied it to the nearest pine tree. “At least we know this spot.”

  They wandered on, looking for anything they recognized, calling for Gabriela. Caro remembered the first time she’d been in the woods alone with Jennifer, how Jennifer had told her to walk more quietly. Carolina hadn’t understood at first, but now she hated to be shouting, to be so loud amidst the trees. It violated something; she thought it was like skipping stones on a pristine lake. It ruptured.

  After a while, they stopped and sat down on a tree stump. The moss was wet, and she knew it would leave a brown, damp mark on her jeans, but Carolina was so tired she barely cared. “What time is it, Jenn?”

  Jennifer checked her wristwatch. “Three-forty-five.”

  “What!” Carolina leapt to her feet. “Camp ended forty-five minutes ago! We missed dismissal?”

  Jennifer nodded, and Carolina noticed that there was nothing stuck in her braid that day, that it was all Jennifer’s hair.

  “I guess we should just start walking downhill. We’ll find the farm eventually, right?” Caro asked nervously.

  But the hill leveled flat after only a few feet. They kept walking a long time, but before they caught any sight of the creek or the farm they found themselves at the top of a small ledge, and below them was a clearing, with a pond at its center, framed by cattails almost as tall as they were.

  “Do you know where we are?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “Silver Meadows is a big place,” she said softly.

  A cow mooed in the distance, and Carolina followed the sound with her gaze, past the pond and back into the trees. “Let’s go that way.”

  “But we have to get back to the camp center.”

  “What time is it?”

  Jennifer checked her watch. “Four-fifteen.”

  Carolina’s heart sank. “Come on.” Carolina took off toward the sound of the cows. “We have no way of knowing which way is the camp center, but we can find the cows, and they have to come get the cows soon. Otherwise we could be stuck here forever.”

  Jennifer swallowed hard, then steeled herself. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  —

  The reeds were so tall that they could see only a few feet in front of them. They heard Gabriela before they saw her, crying softly beside the pond.

  “Gabriela?” Carolina knelt beside her. “Are you lost too?”

  Gabriela wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes. And now we’re all in huge trouble.” Wet with tears, Gabriela’s eyelashes were incredibly long and black. Carolina wondered if she would ever look like Gabriela, if being cousins meant that in two years she, too, would be tall, with long hair and eyelashes that went on and on.

  “I can’t believe you got us into this mess.” Jennifer’s arms were crossed, and she hovered over them without sitting.


  Gabriela wailed, “I just wanted to show Alyssa the clubhouse—”

  “Artists’ house,” Carolina corrected her automatically.

  “I thought she’d think it was cool!” Gabriela sobbed, burying her head in her knees.

  “Why do you have to do everything Alyssa’s way all the time?” Jennifer fumed.

  “She’s her friend, Jenn.” Carolina looked up at Jennifer, who was scowling. “You’d want to show me too. Wouldn’t you?”

  Jennifer’s face softened slightly, and she loosed her arms, letting them swing at her sides. “Still…”

  “Look,” Carolina said, “we’re all in this together now. If we don’t make it to the cow field, we’re going to be camping here tonight.” She reached under Gabriela’s arm and lifted. “Come on. Up.”

  There was a tender spot in Caro’s heart now, when she thought about the cottage, about the questions she knew were coming. But it was late. The air was cool and the light was soft, dismissal had come and gone. If they could only get back to the farm…

  They were slow and quiet, listening for the sound of the cows and adjusting their course each time they heard another moo or the jingle of a bell. They reached the far end of the clearing and entered the woods once more. Gabriela was still sniffling as she walked.

  “Ga-aabs! Jenn-ifer!”

  “They’re calling us!” Carolina said excitedly. “Over here!” she shouted. “Come on!”

  “That was Alyssa’s voice,” Gabriela said uncertainly.

  “Jenn!”

  A grin broke over Jennifer’s face. “But that was my dad! They must have sent out a whole search party!” She waved her hands wildly, and through the trees there appeared Alyssa, Gavin, and Lydia. George was behind them.

  Everyone in the camp center was talking at once. Alyssa was with her dad, Lance, who, for someone who controlled so much, was smaller than Carolina had expected. Lance was barely taller than Alyssa, with thinning brown hair and thick glasses. Alyssa was carrying on about how worried she’d been while George loudly complained that kids today had no discipline. Gavin rested a hand on Jenn’s shoulder while Lydia boiled water for tea and scolded herself about giving the kids so much free time. In the corner, Mami and Tía Cuca looked small, clutching their purses and sitting at the far table. For once, they were silent.