Watermelon Summer

by Anna Hess

  "How about a compromise," I interjected, as Kat's face twisted up into a snarl and her mouth opened to say something I really didn't want to hear. "We three are clearly the founders, but we need some sort of procedure for deciding who can and can't join us. We can't just take anyone who walks in off the street," I said, making it up as I went along. "So, I think if someone vouches for a new member, that person should get a trial period, and at the end of the trial, we'll vote him or her in or out by majority rule."

  And that's how Drew got permission to stay until after the Greensun meeting. And how I averted a Kat-Jacob war and saved my birthday from total annihilation.

  Yes, I did say "my birthday." I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't realized what day it was, but I hadn't told anyone about the personal holiday either. I was used to having all the people in my life who cared about my birthday already well-aware of the date, and it felt a bit like something my little brother would do to announce to all and sundry that today I was one year older. So I'd kept my mouth shut, despite a childish wish that Kat and Jacob would bake me a cake and sing "Happy Birthday."

  My silence had another facet as well—I'd been waiting and waiting and waiting for Jacob to carry through and ask me out. Arvil had clued him in about my birthday last week, and it felt like a real test of Jacob's affections whether or not he remembered the date. If Jacob really liked me, and hadn't just been put on the spot by my thespian neighbor, he'd take Arvil's advice. Right?

  But as my birthday got closer, I had started figuring I'd misunderstood what I heard, or had misread Jacob's words. And now the cold war currently being waged in the pumpkin patch was making me think I should have set my birthday wishes a little lower—like getting to hare off to my campsite and celebrate my majority with a book and some Lucy time rather than being bombarded by bad feelings from my community-mates. Both Jacob and Kat seemed to feel they'd gotten the short end of the stick with my Drew compromise, and neither was in the mood to talk to me or to each other. I'd tried breaking the ice a few times, finally settling on working quietly, my stomach knotted up from the tension hovering over us all.

  "I'm tuckered out," Kat said at last, after nearly an hour of muteness. Usually, she would have asked if we wanted to come back to the house with her, but I could tell my sister's nose was still out of joint when she walked off in haughty silence.

  That seemed to be a cue to head off to my own pity party. I was pretty sure Mom would have sent me a birthday care package, and I could go check the mailbox in a couple of hours to get a little jolt that way. Maybe I'd even hike up to the top of Cell Phone Ridge and start researching political parties—after all, I could vote now, right?, so I should stay informed. Turning eighteen had never seemed so pointless.

  But as soon as Kat was out of sight, the sparkle came back into Jacob's eyes, and he leaned his hoe against a tree. "I think you need an ice cream," he told me, giving my stomach something else entirely to think about...but this time something good. "My treat," he added, and the trip did indeed sound like a treat.

  A sudden thunderstorm blew in as Jacob and I picked out our 50-cent ice creams at the gas station. We sat on the curb under the protective awning and watched the water pour down around us, the rain so loud it was nearly impossible to talk. And I was purely, 100% happy. Whether this was a date or not, it was certainly a birthday to remember, sitting so close to a cute guy that our legs nearly touched, pointing at robins fleeing the storm, and sharing bites of each others' dessert.

  And then it got even better. "I'm going to hold your hand for just a minute," Jacob told me during a lull in the storm, the action of his fingers backing up his words. "If you don't like it, we can stop."

  But I liked it. I liked it very much.

  "Okay, here's the game plan," Kat told me and Jacob nine days later. "The Exes will be here any minute, and we need to put our best foot forward so we can get some of them on board. A bunch of these people are in the business world now, and they're our best bet for raising the $30,000 Glen wants for Greensun, and for getting an income coming in within eleven months. Thia, please stop looking at Jacob and start paying attention."

  Oops. I think my IQ dropped by about 50 points when I turned 18...or maybe I was just having a hard time focusing on anything other than Jacob now that he'd made his intentions clear. We hadn't done anything except hold hands, but I missed him when he was gone, and when Jacob was present, I had a hard time thinking about anything else.

  But this was important—the big Greensun meeting, and our chance to try to dig up some more-experienced help. If we were lucky, one or two of the Exes (Kat's catchy term for Ex-Greensun residents) might even decide to join us—after all, they wouldn't have to live at Greensun to be part of the community. And if we had at least one more community member, we wouldn't feel so obligated to keep Drew around. Even Kat seemed to be getting sick of him, or maybe I was just hoping that's why my sister hadn't woken her late-rising boyfriend for our pre-meeting meeting.

  "I'll introduce our idea, but I think you two should be the ones to go over our business plan," Kat continued, shattering my hopes that I could be a silent participant in the upcoming meeting. Just the idea of being around a dozen people I didn't know had kept me from sleeping well the previous night—I really didn't want to do any public speaking.

  Unfortunately, Jacob seemed to be on Kat's side. "That sounds good," he agreed. "I've got some paperwork on how many visitors have come to our website, and Thia knows our CSA stats inside and out. You've got those sample by-laws all drawn up too, right, Thia?"

  Well, yes and no. I'd read everything Carol dropped off, and after three painful afternoons at a public computer in the library, I'd drafted what I thought might be legal paperwork. But most of the text was just copied and pasted from books and websites, and I had no clue if Carol would laugh when she saw my attempt. The idea that I was responsible for writing something that would hold up in court was terrifying.

  But I could hear the first strange footsteps on the porch outside, so it was too late to make changes now. "Here goes nothing," I muttered, and put on my friendliest fake smile.

  "Forsythia!" Arvil called as I walked in the back door of the old farmhouse, the screen slapping shut behind me. I'd been doing my best to hide behind the scenes for the last hour as Exes arrived in ones and twos. It was easy to keep myself busy putting food away in the fridge and (when worst came to worst) hiding in the back yard, but Arvil's greeting pulled every eye our way, putting an end to my anonymity.

  All month, I'd thought of Arvil as an eccentric hermit, but he was clearly right in the thick of the gathered Greensun Exes, and (I soon realized) was the life of the party. He introduced me to the other adults gathering around the spread laid out on the chipped formica counter, but I didn't really pick up the names (and identities) of the Exes until later. Some I missed entirely.

  "You look just like your mother!" I must have heard this five times, in between being enfolded in deep hugs by people I'd never even heard of before. But I was willing to put up with a lot to get my hands on one of the chocolate-frosted donuts someone had brought as their food contribution, and I knew I needed to make a good impression if I wanted to hook more community members. This time, the speaker was Kitty, a wispy woman who oozed New-Age flakiness as she told me all about how she and my mother were best friends two decades ago. I suspected the relationship might have been all in Kitty's head since I'd never heard her name before, but I smiled and nodded, then moved on down the line to spend a minute talking to Carol and Susan, then to Bill, who owned a business in Asheville focusing on permaculture and edible landscaping. Thanks to Kat's permablitz, I even knew what Bill was talking about half the time, kinda sorta.

  "Do you remember me?" asked a diminutive woman on my left, filling my bubble of silence soon after Bill wandered off. I was getting ready to reiterate that no, I remembered nobody here, when I noticed the twinkle in her eye. "I delivered you," she said. "I'm Felicia." A midwife, it turned out, and a gentle p
resence in a room overflowing with egos.

  There were also a few men whose names I never quite caught, mostly because they were too busy talking about sports to engage much with the rest of us. And a clique of middle-aged women who were more interested in catching up with each other than in speaking to anyone else. Storm was the last new-to-me member of the gathering...well, along with her kindergarten-aged son Wolf who was completely engrossed in a hand-held video game.

  I finally got a second alone after meeting Storm, and I looked across the room to see Kat in the thick of the party, just as I'd expected. But I was more surprised to find Jacob blending in as well, schmoozing the guests with alacrity. He had met my eyes and smiled when Arvil helped me make my big entrance, but Jacob had then let me get swept up by the mass of Exes busily reminiscing about good times before I was born. I would have called him a traitor if his actions weren't for such a good cause, and if he didn't seem to be charming the Exes just as easily as he had the neighbors.

  "Who wants to make a bonfire?" Arvil called after the donut box was reduced to crumbs. After the unanimous "yes" rang out, Arvil took over what had previously been Kat's job—dividing up the forces. At Arvil's urging, the men became engrossed in assembling a flammable work of art in the middle of the lawn, while the women wrapped potatoes in tinfoil to go in the coals. I could see what Mom meant about the division of labor, but I couldn't really find it in myself to care since Arvil sent me and Jacob off together in search of pine cones to add a sparkle to the flames. Together at last.

  "Glen's not here, is he?" Jacob asked as we walked up toward the pine grove together, traveling slowly enough that we could go hand in hand and relish the relative silence.

  I let out a deep breath, realizing that my bio-dad was one of the reasons I'd been so on-edge about this meeting. I'd been positive Glen would come to greet his old friends, letting me finally get to know him in the flesh, and I was both scared and excited to finally see what my bio-dad looked like. Just yesterday, I'd come across a note in the back of The Fannie Farmer Cookbook listing food allergies of each previous community member. If Glen cared enough to make sure Bill didn't accidentally eat peanuts, surely he cared enough to show up and say hello?

  But Jacob was right, Glen wasn't present. And try as I might, I couldn't help taking his absence as a personal slight. "He doesn't want to meet me," I replied, my words pained. "I've been here a month, and my father hasn't shown up once."

  "His loss," Jacob said, giving my hand a squeeze, then letting me go to start putting pine cones in a plastic grocery bag. "Did I ever tell you about the man I call Dad?"

  No he hadn't. Jacob had let drop that Davey's father was in prison, but his own father hadn't even been mentioned. "You must think I'm totally self-absorbed to be complaining about Glen when I don't even know about your father!" I exclaimed, ashamed of myself for not having asked earlier. In all the time we'd spent together, Jacob had told me little about himself. We always seemed to get sidetracked into planning Greensun's future or worrying over freeloaders like Drew, but now I regretted not pinning Jacob down earlier.

  "Well, my real father is who-knows-where, and good riddance from all I've heard," Jacob told me, his hand grazing mine as we accidentally reached for the same pine cone. Despite all of the day's drama, a brush of Jacob's skin on mine was enough to send a tingle through my stomach, but I tried to focus on what he was telling me instead of on what I was feeling. "But the guy I call Dad is still around, and he takes me hunting every year, which is pretty much what it takes to be a father around here." Jacob laughed quietly, clearly remembering our gun conversation the first time I'd been over to his house. "He was married to my mom a few years ago, and he could have dropped me at the same time he realized Mom was bad news, but he didn't. That's when I made a choice. I could worry over where my real father is, or I could decide to feel lucky that I had another solid father figure in my life despite my deadbeat dad. I chose the latter."

  Jacob was right—I should have felt rich beyond words. Glen's behavior aside, my own step-dad was always there to back me up with unconditional love, and I was starting to think of Arvil as a bonus uncle to go along with the bonus siblings I'd yet to meet. There was so much potential in the world, why should I focus on the few negatives? I took a deep breath and decided to forget Glen and pay attention to all of the bounty around me right now.

  "Look up," Jacob said after we'd filled our bags with pine cones and were standing in silence, regaining our composure before braving the Greensun Exes once again. The pine trees soared over our heads, nearly blocking out the little bit of sunlight still remaining in the quickly-disappearing day. "My step-dad showed me how to tell the age of pines like this," Jacob continued, reaching up with our clasped hands to point at the lowest branches. "All you have to do is count the rings of limbs, one for every year of the tree's life. You'll need to guess a bit at the bottom," he added. "But you can usually see where old branches have broken off."

  For a minute, we peered up and counted in silence, the angle of my head making me slightly dizzy. "They're not much older than me," I said at last, surprised by the youth of such stately trees. Then I tilted my head back to human-level and realized that Jacob's face was suddenly awfully close to mine.

  Jacob had warned me when he went to hold my hand for the first time, but now body language was all the hint I needed to know I was about to be kissed. I would like to say I closed my eyes and reveled in the moment, but the truth is that when I'm excited or flustered, words flow out of my mouth before I can shut the faucet between lips and brain. This day was no exception.

  "I've never kissed anyone before!" I blurted out, but Jacob only smiled and shrugged. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, I tipped my mouth forward to meet his...and the ensuing sensation left me weak at the knees.

  "I never would have known it," Jacob said at last, and it took me a minute to realize he was referring to my lack of kissing experience.

  I think we both would have liked to stay in the the pine grove and give kissing another whirl, but we could hear a whoop from the farmhouse that sounded anything but distant. I wouldn't have put it past Arvil to show up if we took too much longer with our task, so I just clasped Jacob's hand in mine and headed back to the Exes.

  As we walked, I realized I knew one thing for sure—I couldn't let this feeling go. We had to find a way to save Greensun.

  The fire was raging when Jacob and I returned with two grocery bags full of pine cones. As we drifted back into the circle, the Exes had settled onto various buckets, logs, and a few ancient chairs, far enough away from the fire not to bake, but close enough to enjoy the flickering colors. Glen's poultry had emerged from the log barn, and the peacock treated us to a display of turquoise, indigo, and yellow feathers, while Lucy ran studiously after sticks of all sizes but didn't manage to bring any back.

  Although the pine cones were greeted with appreciation, the Exes were quick to return to their tales of time past. Their reminiscences flowed in eddies, with spurts of rapids as a common memory sucked various members into the conversation. I should have felt out of place due to the age difference between myself and most of the Exes, but instead, Arvil dragged me right into the middle of the bantering mess of stories. "...And then I yelled across the raging torrent, 'Are you Forsythia Green?'..." he was telling the crowd, and I couldn't help grinning along with everyone else at the totally-true tall tale.

  "So that's why Glen isn't here?" Bill asked when Arvil's story came to a dramatic conclusion. "Surely he's out of the hospital by now."

  "You shouldn't sound so surprised," responded a women whose name I'd missed. "It's just like him to call a meeting and not show up. Remember the big sweet potato harvest of 1994? He planted what, a hundred plants? Then went to a protest the weekend they had to be harvested."

  "Three hundred," Carol corrected. "Mom was so mad at him, she could have spit when the time came to dig all those potatoes. But what she always forgets is that the sweet potatoes were delici
ous, and as I recall, they were all we could afford to eat most of that winter, so I guess his vision paid off." Susan just smiled at her daughter's memory and didn't join either the Glen-bashing or Glen-adoring camp.

  "He's really not coming?" Kitty chimed in next, her disappointment clear. No one, not even Arvil, seemed to have a solid answer for Kitty's question, but this seemed like as good a time as any to make our case. Jacob caught my eye, I nodded at Kat, and she stood up, drawing every eye toward her.

  "In the absence of Glen, I thought we should talk about his letter," my sister said theatrically, whipping a sheet of paper through the air. I was pretty sure this wasn't actually Glen's letter since Kat had asked me to remind her about the terms our bio-dad's ultimatum just yesterday, and I'd had to hunt down my bedraggled copy to answer her question. But the prop looked good, and Kat's actions firmly settled the attention of the group on her shoulders.

  "Like Carol said," Kat continued, "Dad had a vision, and now it's up to us to make that vision a reality. Me and Thia and Jacob have been working hard for the last few weeks to start meeting Glen's requirements, the details of which my partners will tell you more about in a minute. But right now, I want each of you to think long and hard about whether you're willing to let Greensun be sold to strangers. If everyone here chipped in $2,000, we'd have enough to buy the land, and with a little help from each of you, we can jump through the other hoops too. Thia has already ponied up her share—are you really going to let an eighteen-year-old outdo you?"

  I thought Kat's impassioned speech was perfect, but the muttered commentary beside me lowered my expectations just as I stood up to face the crowd in turn. "Sometimes she sounds just like her father," a woman whispered to her neighbor, and the commenter's tone told me the resemblance wasn't a good thing.