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The Family Fletcher Takes Rock Island

Page 3

by Dana Alison Levy


  Janie caught up to her. “God, you are so obsessed with that video camera,” she said. “Can’t you give it a rest for ten seconds?” Before Val could answer, Janie caught sight of Sam. “Oooh! So cute that you’re playing with your little brothers! Don’t you think, Val? Isn’t it cute?”

  Sam turned his back to them, his face blazing. There was literally nothing he could imagine worse than being called cute by a girl like Janie.

  The girls dropped their gear a short ways up the beach from Sam’s swimming pool, pulled off their clothes, and set up their chairs, laying them flat for sunbathing.

  Dad looked up from his book, frowned a little, and then glanced at the music player, which was playing a Spanish pop song.

  “Hey, girls, any chance you could leave the music at home or use earphones? We kind of like the quiet.”

  At that moment Eli shrieked loud enough to be heard on the mainland as Jax poured a bucket of water over him. Frog screamed with laughter.

  “Well, not quiet, exactly. But still,” Dad said.

  Sam closed his eyes in embarrassment.

  “Oh! Sure! Sorry about that,” Val said, and though her voice was polite, Sam thought she sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

  “Do you want help with your sand castle? It’s adorable,” Janie said, wandering over. She was paler and skinnier than Val, and wore an even stupider bathing suit, complete with ruffles and no straps.

  Sam flushed. He pushed Frog’s hand away and stood up, dripping sand and salt water from shoulder to feet. Stepping over the rock wall, he headed down to the water to rinse off.

  “Hey! Those were my dribble castles. Come back!” Frog called, but Sam ignored him.

  He dove under the water, enjoying the shock of cold and the sweeping feeling of the sand washing off his sticky body. He wished he could stay under there, away from his embarrassing dad and the girls who seemed intent on ruining his summer. But of course he needed to breathe. Coming to the surface, he floated on his back, staring at the sky.

  Jax and Eli swam over. Jax dove and resurfaced a few feet away, where the water was a little shallower. “Want to throw the football?” he asked.

  Sam nodded. They might as well. The beach was taken over by twits, or so it seemed.

  They did Rock, Paper, Scissors, and Sam lost, so he swam in to get the football.

  As he passed Frog on the shore, his brother looked up. “I think I found him! See? Doesn’t he look like Gar Baby?” he asked, holding up a crab.

  Sam glanced down, then over at Janie, who was propped on her elbows, watching him. He shrugged. “Maybe. Whatever.” He kept walking and grabbed the football, pivoting and heading back to the water without looking at the girls.

  Frog, undeterred by Sam’s lack of enthusiasm, was talking quietly to the crab. “Hello, Gar Baby, my old friend. Would you like to come home and watch a movie with me?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. Hopefully the girls were far enough away that they couldn’t hear Frog. But judging by the giggles floating down behind him, it seemed unlikely.

  As Sam reached the water he looked over to where the younger kid was crouched, eyes glued to the football in Sam’s hands.

  Sam paused. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Alex,” the kid said, smiling a little.

  “I’m Sam. Those are my brothers Jax and Eli out there. Want to play football with us? Two on a side,” Sam said. He didn’t really know why he asked. The kid just looked so forlorn, sitting alone in the wet sand.

  “Sure!” Alex jumped up and followed Sam into the water.

  Within minutes they had started a two-per-side game, with Sam and Eli trying to score by getting the football to shore, while Jax and Alex aimed for a jutting outcrop of rock. So far Jax and the new kid were winning.

  “ALEX! Come ON. We’ve got to go get ready for lunch. Mami has guests coming!” Val was yelling from the shore.

  Alex looked disgusted. “Gotta go. You going to be here tomorrow?”

  Jax looked at Sam.

  Sam shrugged. “No idea. We might go to Surf Beach.” He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone related to the girls continuing to hang out with them, but Jax interrupted.

  “Sure. We’ll try to come back in the morning. Meet you here!”

  Alex nodded, and with a series of arguments over who had to carry the cooler and who was in charge of the chairs, Alex and the girls were gone.

  The Fletchers were once again alone at the cove, but it didn’t feel the same. Sam sighed and dove under the water. Somehow, it still didn’t feel quite like they had arrived.

  The first few days on the island were awesome, by Frog’s standards. They had gotten to go to the big beach, and Frog was now old enough to jump or dive in the waves with Dad or Sam or Papa, and sometimes he even tried to ride them, if they weren’t too rough. And at Cove Beach he could paddle for hours, until he got so cold that he couldn’t stop shaking.

  “I’m shivering for fun!” he’d tried protesting to Dad, who had ordered him out of the water. “I’m not really c-c-cold! It’s just a game!”

  But Dad hadn’t believed him, and Frog spent the rest of the afternoon wrapped in towels trying to warm up.

  They had even gone to the tiny Rock Island library, where Frog had his own library card. So far, except for the lighthouse, everything was perfect.

  Then, just as they were deciding whether to ride their bikes to see if the blackberries were out yet or to go to the beach, the rain clouds came.

  —

  It had been raining for only a few hours, but it felt much longer. Frog, who didn’t like loud noises, had heard Dad tell Papa that there might be thunderstorms, and he had been in a state of high alert ever since.

  “Is it going to be a thunder, Dad? Is it? IS THAT THUNDER?” Frog bellowed, climbing into Dad’s lap on the couch.

  “No, Froggie, it’s just Eli and Jax chasing each other in the loft. Boys! Knock it off! You really can’t run up there—it’s like a herd of elephants overhead!” Dad yelled, but the footsteps didn’t stop.

  “Let’s read a book, okay, buddy? I don’t think there’s going to be a thunderstorm. I think it’s going to stop raining any minute now,” Dad said, pulling Frog’s head out of the cushions and grabbing the stack of books from the floor. “Do you want to read this one about cats?”

  Frog agreed, and soon they were deep into the habits and habitats of domestic and wild felines. As though to show off the species, Zeus strutted into the room and paraded across the couch, waving his tail in their faces.

  “Dad! Did you read this part?” Frog looked up. “It says cats can actually swim really well. Do you think our cats can?”

  Dad, who had picked up a magazine when Frog started reading to himself, answered absently. “Probably, buddy.”

  “Really? You really do? Can we try?” Frog was excited. He forgot about the thunder and even his brothers stomping overhead. That would be really neat, to teach Zeus to swim. Sir Puggleton wasn’t much of a swimmer, and Frog had always wanted a pet that could swim with him, just like the big dogs swimming at the beach.

  “Hmm? Sure, Frog-o. I’m sure that’s fine,” Dad said, still not looking up.

  Frog dropped the book back on the pile and stared at Zeus, transfixed by the thought of his new swimming companion. How best to start? He considered carefully. It was probably not a good idea to bring Zeus to the beach right away. After all, he hadn’t started in the ocean! He’d started…Of course! Frog stood up.

  “Come on, Zeus. We’re going on an adventure,” Frog said, grabbing the huge beast around the middle. Zeus’s legs dangled below Frog’s skinny arms, and Frog couldn’t help lurching a little under the weight.

  “How much does Zeus weigh?” he asked, huffing.

  Sam didn’t look up from his phone. He had found that if he stood in the kitchen near the window the phone might let him send and receive texts.

  “He weighed eighteen pounds when he went to the vet this spring. They want us to put him o
n a diet.”

  Frog made it to the bathroom and, a little faster than he had meant to, dropped Zeus to the floor. Zeus meowed reproachfully.

  “Stay here,” Frog said, and dashed back to the kitchen for cat treats. When he got back to the bathroom, Zeus had leapt onto the back of the toilet and was staring at him.

  Frog gave him a treat, thinking about the sea lions at the zoo and the trainers who gave them fish. He felt very grown-up and important, training a cat like this. “Good Zeus,” he said proudly. The training was going well so far.

  Carefully, Frog turned on the water in the old stained bathtub, making sure it wasn’t too cold or too hot. Dropping the plug into the tub, he stared doubtfully at the rising water. How much was the right amount? He needed Zeus to be able to paddle, and not sink. Zeus yowled at the door, but Frog the trainer was ready. He gave the cat another treat and patted his head.

  Soon the tub was full, and Frog shut off the faucets. Without the racket of the running water he could hear his brothers shouting over who got to be the race car in Monopoly. Frog shook his head—his brothers were acting so babyish while he, Frog, was training an animal. He took a bunch of treats and placed them carefully on the floor where he could reach them.

  Then he grabbed Zeus. “I think you’re going to really like this!” he said brightly. “I know it might be a little scary at first, but don’t worry. Cats are natural swimmers.”

  He lowered Zeus toward the water. The cat tensed in his hands, but Frog, kneeling over the tub, was steady. He had just put Zeus’s paws in the water when the door swung open, banging into the wall with a loud thunk.

  “Who’s in here? What…HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Jax yelled.

  “AAAAH!” With a shout of surprise, Frog dropped Zeus.

  There was a splash, then a second of silence as Zeus disappeared under the water. But then he emerged.

  “YOOOOOWWWRRRRLLLBBRRAAAZZZZLLEEE!”

  The noise coming out of Zeus was terrifying, a combination howl, yowl, and low, deep moan that Frog had never heard before. With a mighty leap, Zeus sprang out of the tub, the strange, unearthly noise still emerging from his throat.

  “What the heck did you do?” Jax screamed, as Zeus flung himself against Jax’s legs, madly pawing at him to get past. “Hey! Get OFF!”

  Zeus, who had somehow gotten tangled in Jax’s legs, pushed off hard and raced, still caterwauling, out of the bathroom.

  Dad, Sam, and Eli ran in. The tiny bathroom, which barely fit the tub, toilet, and sink, was hot, flooded, and very, very crowded.

  “Jax? Why are you yelling? What’s going on?” Dad said.

  Papa ran in before Frog could answer. “What happened? Why is Zeus soaking wet?” He looked at Jax. “And what the heck happened to you?”

  Jax was on the floor, clutching his ankle. “That beast attacked me! Look at this! I’ve got like ten cuts! Why is it always me? WHY?”

  Everyone was babbling, describing the noises coming out of Zeus, asking Jax what he had done, interrupting each other and arguing, until Jax bellowed, “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! Why does everyone think it was me? It was Frog!”

  Everyone turned and stared at Frog. He looked down. Beneath him, the cat treats were dissolving in the puddles of water, turning to brown goop. He blinked back tears. Jax had scared him, that was all! He had been startled, and dropped Zeus, and it had all gone bad.

  Papa shoved through the rest of the boys. “Why don’t you guys clear out? Tom, you want to see if you can find a Band-Aid—or a few Band-Aids—for Jax?”

  Slowly the bathroom emptied. Frog kept staring at the mushy cat treats. Outside the room, he could hear his brothers shouting as they tried to grab Zeus and dry him off.

  “Hey, bud? What was that all about?” Papa’s voice was soft, but Frog still didn’t look up.

  He shrugged.

  “Did you mean to drop Zeus in the bathtub? Or was it…” Papa paused for a second, obviously trying to think of a scenario where Frog would have accidentally been holding the enormous cat over the tub.

  “I didn’t mean to drop him!” Frog burst out. “I was going to lower him gently.” He pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to explain to Papa what he was doing. He remembered how good it felt to be an animal trainer, and a small sob escaped. If Jax hadn’t come in and scared him, it would have all worked perfectly.

  Papa’s arms came around him until he was wrapped up in a full hug.

  “Hey! You’re not in trouble. Well, not in big trouble, certainly. Why don’t you tell me why you were gently lowering Zeus into the tub?”

  Frog’s voice was muffled in Papa’s soft shirt. “I was teaching Zeus to swim. I read about it in a library book. And I asked Dad—”

  Papa started to say something, then cut himself off. “Okay. Good. Go on,” he said, his voice encouraging.

  “Well, that’s it. I was just…I wanted him to swim because according to my book, cats are natural swimmers, and maybe he’d really like it. And maybe sometime when he got used to it he would come with us and swim in the ocean. He would be my swimming buddy.” Frog’s voice got stronger as he talked. “And we could do that, Papa, couldn’t we? I mean, I can try again! I think Zeus was just startled, is all.” He sniffled loudly.

  Before Papa could answer, Eli burst in. “The sun is out and we’re packing up for the beach. Come on!” He ran back out again without waiting for an answer.

  Frog looked up at Papa and smiled. “It didn’t thunder!” he said. “Let’s go to the beach.”

  Papa smiled back and squeezed him. “Sounds good. But hey, buddy? About Zeus…,” he started.

  Frog paused on his way out the door. “Don’t worry, Papa! I’ll tell everyone before I train him again,” he said. He felt much better. Next time Zeus would love the water. He was sure of it.

  “ICE CREEEAAAAM!” Frog yelled, and Jax dropped the wet towels he was hanging up on the clothesline.

  The truck had, after a whispered consultation between the driver and Papa, stopped coming every day, and now its arrival sent Frog into a new frenzy each time. Jax had to admit, it was pretty amazing to have an ice cream truck on their road in Rock Island. The only problem was that it always stopped halfway between their house and the old Wheelright house, which meant they would run into video-crazy Valerie and her stupid friend every time. Janie had stayed on an extra few days, apparently to stare at Sam and turn him into a grouch-zombie who refused to look at anyone.

  Still, Alex seemed pretty cool. The few times they’d been at Cove Beach together, Jax and Alex had thrown the football and once even caught a small lobster that was stuck under the rocks. Sadly, Jax was extra glad to have someone else to hang out with, as Sam seemed intent on being alone these days and Eli was still sulking over the kayak thing. Never before had the Fletcher boys needed additional friends on Rock Island, but this year, that, like so much else, was different.

  They still, after one whole week on the island, hadn’t solved the mystery of the lighthouse. Captain Jim Fish had been busy, out fishing most days, and only told Papa that the town had decided to sell the lighthouse because there was some structural damage. They had hoped a group would come along and fix it, like a preservation group or a museum or something. But a buyer was interested, and then got hurt at the site, so now the town had to address the problem right away. Jax didn’t really understand it at all. Still, they were going back into town today, and he hoped they’d finally get some answers.

  Meanwhile there was ice cream. He ran outside after his brothers, groaning a little at the thought of the girls giggling and trying to talk to Sam, who would no doubt be doing his grouch-zombie routine. He ran back into the house to grab his net: Alex had said there was a nest of tiny green snakes somewhere behind their house, and Jax was desperate to catch one.

  “Coming?” he asked Eli, who was standing, unmoving, in the yard.

  “Yeah. I’m just…” He trailed off.

  Jax didn’t bother to ask him what he was doing. Eli had been
gazing toward the lighthouse, still untouched and abandoned.

  He punched Eli’s arm, but gently. “I know. We’ll find out in town today. Who knows? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe by tomorrow we’ll be back in!” Jax tried to sound positive, but he was worried. Nobody had been at the lighthouse to paint or fix stuff or anything. It was the same as always, except for the terrible fence keeping them out. And who knows what the new owners would do. Maybe they’d keep it open. But what if they didn’t?

  As the boys walked toward the ice cream truck, Jax was surprised to see grown-ups standing with the Galindo kids and stupid Janie. He had never seen Alex’s parents—usually the three would come to Cove Beach by themselves, or occasionally they’d get driven to Surf Beach by a babysitter who stayed under an umbrella and read.

  Now Alex was standing with a tall woman in a giant straw hat and a T-shirt that read COFFEE: POWER UP, with a picture of a coffee mug plugged into an outlet. She looked a little like Valerie, and Alex too, Jax guessed, though mostly it was the long hair and the bug-eye sunglasses that made the mother and daughter look alike. A tall skinny white guy with a scruffy beard and a pair of ripped shorts was paying for the ice cream. He looked over as the Fletchers walked up to the truck window.

  “Ah! You must be the famous Fletcher boys! Nice to meet you! Now, don’t tell me…you’re Sam, right?” he said, shaking hands with Frog.

  Frog giggled. “No!”

  “Well then, you must be Jax. My kids told me Jax was really cool and liked to play football. That’s you, right?” the man said, squinting and looking confused.

  Frog laughed harder and the man clapped him on the back. “I know, I know. You’re Frog. And that tall fellow is Sam, and I think I recognize the rest of you too. What can I get you? Ice cream is on me.”

  The boys looked at one another, good manners warring with greed. Frog spoke first.

  “Well, you’re not a stranger, since you’re Alex and Valerie’s dad, right?”

  The man nodded solemnly. “Sorry. I should have introduced myself. John Galindo-Green. I met your parents yesterday, and I think they wouldn’t mind if we subsidize your ice cream habit just this once.”

 

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