Hit the Beach

by Laura Dower

  “Hey,” Madison said softly as she padded over to the sofa.

  Stephanie was surprised to see Madison. “I didn’t even hear you walk in,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  Madison frowned. “Not really. I just checked my e-mail, and I got this note from Aimee, and she is so bummed out, and I just feel so bad …”

  “What’s the matter with Aimee?” Stephanie asked.

  Dad poked his head up. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “It’s the most awful thing, but they’re closing Aim’s dance studio,” Madison said. “Can you believe it? Anyway, I wanted to ask if—I know it’s late—but I wanted to maybe call her up on the phone, to check in.”

  Dad shrugged from across the room. “There’s the phone,” he said simply, pointing to it. “It’s still just before ten o’clock. Stephanie, do you have a problem with that?”

  “Well, Aimee is probably asleep,” she said. “Won’t her parents mind?”

  “A call from Maddie?” Dad laughed. “Trust me. Aimee’s mom and dad invented the words ‘laid back’—way back. They won’t care if it’s a call from Maddie. She’s practically part of their family, too.”

  Madison knew that Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie probably wouldn’t even know she was calling, since they hardly ever picked up their phone. They always left the answering of the phone to their kids.

  So, with Dad and Stephanie’s permission, Madison grabbed the portable and dialed Far Hills. It rang four times before someone picked up.

  “Hello,” a voice grumbled. It was deep, and Madison could tell whose it was. “Is this Dean?” Madison asked.

  “Who is this?” Dean replied.

  Madison explained and then asked to speak with Aimee, who was not yet asleep, as Stephanie and Dad had suspected.

  Aimee came to the phone right away.

  “Hello?” Aimee asked politely. “Who is this?”

  “Aim?” Madison said.

  “Maddie!” Aimee squealed. “Oh, my God, did you get the telepathic signals I was sending you right now? I can’t believe this is really you on the telephone. I swear on a stack of Bibles I was just sitting here thinking about you this very minute, right now!”

  Madison giggled. Aimee always branded herself a nonbeliever in things like fortune-telling and fate. Madison knew she was just being sarcastic, but she played along with Aimee’s rush of enthusiasm.

  “I didn’t get any psycho—er, psychic—signals,” Madison joked. “But I had to call anyway.”

  “You read my blog,” Aimee said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, Aim,” Madison said sympathetically.

  “Isn’t it awful?” Aimee said.

  “Well, you told me you didn’t really like Madame Elaine,” Madison said, trying to sound supportive without sounding dismissive.

  “I didn’t—I don’t—” Aimee started to say. Her voice trembled a little bit as she spoke. She sounded as if she were still crying.

  “Aim?” Madison asked slowly. “I’m giving you a very big hug right now, so you have to stop crying. Okay?”

  There was heavy silence over the phone line.

  “I can’t stop,” Aimee admitted, sobbing more softly now.

  Madison hadn’t heard Aimee cry like that before, and she felt helpless being so far away.

  “Vacation is almost over,” Madison said, trying to sound cheery. “Soon we’ll all be back at Far Hills in the classroom, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

  “Except Madame Elaine’s,” Aimee said.

  “I wish I were there,” Madison said. “So I could help you feel better.”

  The silence over the phone line returned. Madison heard music playing softly in the background.

  “I’m tired,” Aimee admitted. “I should go.”

  “Okay,” Madison said.

  “By the way, how’s camp?” Aimee asked before hanging up. “I’m sorry I didn’t even ask. And you haven’t posted a blog in a day or more.”

  “Camp’s cool,” Madison said. “I know I need to write in the blog. I will. Promise. When we hang up.”

  “Go write something now. I’ll check in the morning,” Aimee said. Madison thought it sounded as though Aimee were smiling.

  “Good night, Aim,” Madison said.

  As they hung up the phones, a dozen questions zipped into Madison’s head. How was Blossom (Aimee’s dog)? How was her dad’s bookstore, where Aimee sometimes worked part-time? And most important: how was Hart Jones? With all the other things on her mind, Madison had almost forgotten about Hart.

  Almost.

  The truth was that Hart was never very far from her thoughts.

  Madison placed the portable phone back in its charger and headed back to her laptop. After all of the night’s blog entries, she needed to dash off a quick entry of her own.

  When she returned to TweenBlurt.com, however, she found the unread entries from her other two BFFs. First there was a long, funny one from Lindsay.

  08-17

  This has been the most GROOViESt week of my life EVER. First I get to fly overseas with Dad—and from the things he’s saying, there’s still a good chance that he and my mom will get back together. I know it’s like a tennis match the way they stay and go from each other, but I still want them to work it out. WDIK!?

  SO. That’s all irrelevant because of the amazing thing that happened yesterday. I am still shaking so let me start at the beginning—and NO laughing even though Maddie totally predicted this one. You guys are always saying that someday my prince would come. So here’s the update on all that. Instead of my prince coming to me—I came to my prince.

  I MET PRINCE HARRY.

  Seriously. Are you sitting down? I met him. In person. He actually SHOOK MY HAND!!!! Or, as the locals would say, “He shook my bloody hand!” LOL. (OF course my hand isn’t really bloody with blood but u know that, right? DUH.) So I met Prince Harry and what did I do? Almost fainted. Okay, that’s not exactly true but I did feel a little heady and dizzy for a split second. It all started when I went with Dad to see this free music concert in early evening near Hyde Park. I guess there was some charity event or something and we saw the motorcade so we were waiting with the other people. As it turns out we were standing at the EXACT spot where they got out of their limos. So there I was dressed in my fat pants (because I have been eating sooo much I don’t fit in my other clothes anymore LOL) and I basically came face to face with PRINCE HARRY. Ok, so there were like ten zillion police there too, so my view of the Prince was partially obscured. But then, as if that wasn’t good enough—he came over to greet us. He is very handsome in person. I wish it had been his brother and Kate, of course, b/c who doesn’t want to see Prince William and even little George! But Harry will do. LOL. I threw my arm out and up and then wiggled to the front of this barricade that had been set up on the spot. And there I was in the front, hand out—and his fingers touched my fingers for just a split second but our hands touched—OMG. I wanted to say hello or something—anything. I didn’t. I almost shut my eyes, actually. This has to be one of the top five days of my life. EVER.

  P.S.: I know u won’t believe this but the best day in the galaxy got EVEN BETTER when I came back fm our day. There was an e-mail in my mailbox fm DAN. Can u believe it? I’m afraid 2 read it. It’s probably nothing but … :>)

  P.P.S.: I come home tomorrow (Friday) psyched! We all get 2 c each other hooray!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Madison laughed out loud.

  The blogs didn’t end there. The cursor flashed on Fiona’s blog. She’d finally written a new entry, too. And much to Madison’s surprise, Fiona had a very different story to tell about Julio—and other topics—that day.

  08-17

  Only one thing on my mind this morning: I’m ready 2 come home. I love being back here in Los Gatos but I miss my life in Far Hills SOOOO MUCH. Isn’t that weird? I always was SUCH a California girl and now—I’m just NOT. You’ll be happy 2 know that Dad and
Mom told me that they won’t be moving back to CA anytime soon, despite previous reports to the contrary. Dad was just feeling nostalgic (he says). I guess they talked about it pretty seriously but decided our new house (in FH) is great and our new schools (in FH) are great and our new life (w/all of U!) is great. We talked at dinner last nite. Even Chet said he didn’t want to come back—and he misses his CA skater friends way more than I miss my old friends.

  P.S.: I told Maddie a little bit about seeing this old guy friend Julio when I was here. Well, it was just weird and nothing happened. NOTHING. I’ll tell u Aim & Lindsay more when I C U. I’ll be back home really late on Fri.

  Madison sighed. After nearly two weeks apart, the four BFFs had been worried about how they’d survive. But they had survived intact. They’d uncovered new summer stories and revisited old summer stories. They’d met up with old friends and shared things with new friends. They’d found a dozen ways to hit the beach and make things really happen.

  And it wasn’t even over yet for Madison. She still had hatchling night to look forward to.

  Madison hit NEW and typed into her blog, just as she’d promised Aimee she would. Her BFF would check for the new page in just a few short hours—and Madison wanted to be there, waiting.

  08-18

  I hope we never have 2 be apart again for more than a week at a time. It feels like this past wk was hard 4 everyone—including me. OMG Thanx 4 being so honest about stuff. None of u are alone!!! OK so I have this confession 2 make—I am still crushing on this Will guy so I made a list of all the things I like about both him & Hart. OK—ready??

  Will

  Hart

  Calls me Mad Dog

  Calls me Finnster

  Blond hair, messy

  Brown hair that’s messy

  No glasses

  Wears glasses sometimes

  Trendy clothes

  Nice dresser

  Smart

  Super smart!!

  From NYC

  From Far Hills

  When I read the list, I can’t even tell them apart. Which makes me more confused than ever. So again I just want u 2 know UR NOT ALONE (Fiona!!!) and u shouldn’t feel bad just because u made a mistake or liked someone else. I think everything happens 4 a reason, right?

  This has been a week of surprises (Prince Harry! No more dance studio! OMG!!!!!) and I miss u all more than words. We need 2 be 2gether soon. This whole week I thought it was all about my crushes and boys and doing the coolest thing. But now I wonder if that’s what it’s all about. What do u think??? What is it all about?????

  OK. I have 2 go now and get ready to watch turtles lay eggs in the dark and I wonder if maybe THAT is what it’s all about. Yours till the heart breaks … or NOT! No, definitely NOT—no heartbreak here, pleez!!!

  p.s.: Thanks 2 everyone for being the VERY BEST BLOGGERHEADS in the whole universe. U made this week go by sooooooo much faster.

  LYLAS—FAE! FAE! FAE!!! :>)

  Chapter 18

  BECAUSE HATCHLING NIGHT BEGAN with the last moments of sundown and continued into the very late nighttime hours, Thursday’s camp session didn’t officially begin until seven o’clock in the evening. That gave Madison more time to check blogs and write e-mails. It also gave her time to surf the Internet and look up random information about loggerhead turtles.

  She had plenty to keep herself busy, which is exactly what she did.

  Madison skimmed some of the last-minute notes she’d scribbled on a notepad. She needed to remember that stuff.

  Loggerheads roamed the oceans by millions, but no longer

  ? can drown in shrimp trawls (what??) and other fishing gear

  ? can die from pollutants or swallowing trash they think is food (plastic on soda 6-packs

  hatchlings who get disoriented by lights near beach wander away from the ocean and get crushed by cars

  nesting season runs a long time fm May 1-October 31

  She took a lot of notes, but of all the facts Madison had learned at Camp Sunshine, what she’d learned most of all was that she still had a lot left to learn! Hatchling night was some kind of symbolic beginning, wasn’t it?

  Madison was learning to see the world around her in a new way. Not only was she seeing new animals and meeting new people, but she was finding ways to see in the dark. Or at least she hoped so. Madison needed to have good night vision in order to watch the loggerheads digging in the sand under a white, glowing moon.

  As the time to head to the ELC grew closer, Madison began to feel butterflies in her stomach. She assumed at first that this was because of Will. But as time went on, she wondered if it had more to do with someone—or something—else. Maybe all this feeling was just about the turtles, plain and simple.

  Could it be that simple?

  Dad drove Madison to the ELC as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The air had cooled off some, thankfully. The last week had been hotter than the week before it. But now there was actually a bit of a breeze.

  Madison spotted Ann and Suchita standing together near the side of the building. She hustled over to them. “Hey,” she said. “It’s so weird to be starting camp when it’s getting dark, isn’t it?”

  It was nearly eight o’clock. There was still a lot of light left in the sky, but night was coming, and (Madison hoped) so were the turtles.

  “Yes,” Suchita said. “My mother didn’t want me to come. She’s worried.”

  Ann held up a mini tape-recording device. She planned to record a blow-by-blow account of hatchling night—and maybe write an article on it for her school paper—or even her local newspaper back in Cleveland. Just like Madison, Ann had made a scratch-pad list of notes about loggerheads. Madison admired Ann’s motivation.

  On the edge of the beach, Leonard and the camp staffers made sure all of the groups were present and accounted for.

  “Look up at the sky,” Leonard advised. “We have an almost-full moon. We have a sea ahead of us and a sea above us. Just look at that sea of stars, boys and girls. Even though the moon is bright, I can still see the Little Dipper. Can you?”

  Madison liked the fact that Leonard was talking all poetically about the sea and stars. It inspired her, and she wondered if maybe she should write a poem of her own about this night, about this entire camp experience. Maybe she could send it to Bigwheels.

  Will, Teeny, and Logan were standing off to the side. When Leonard stopped talking for a moment, the boys trudged over to where the girls from the Egrets stood. Madison could sense Will’s approach; even though it was dark and she couldn’t see well, Madison was fairly sure he had a determined look in his eyes.

  “Maddie!” Will called out before he’d even gotten to her.

  Madison stepped aside so Ann was the first person Will ran into—literally. As luck would have it, Will tripped on the sand near the edge of the berm and nearly plowed into Ann.

  Suchita laughed. Logan came over, also laughing. Meanwhile, Ann reached out and helped Will get up from the sand.

  Madison took a deep breath of the sea air. It smelled like salt and dampness, and she wished she could go for a swim. The moon was hitting the water beautifully. She scanned the sand for some sign of turtle life, but there was nothing yet.

  “Maddie, where are your night goggles?” Teeny asked.

  Madison laughed. “I left them at home,” she said.

  Just then, Leonard approached the cluster of Egrets.

  “I will be making announcements on the beach during hatchling night,” Leonard said. “Does everyone have insect repellent on?”

  He had a walkie-talkie in his hand, as did most of the counselors, to be able to communicate across the span of beach.

  Leonard’s voice echoed in the night air. “I just wanted to remind all of you that there is no flash photography and there are no flashlights allowed. Lights disrupt the nesting turtles and can disorient them. Okay?”

  Madison nodded. All the talk about the turtles had her really excited, and
although she’d just reviewed her notes, she had nearly forgotten the importance of keeping the baby and mother turtles out of the light.

  From where they stood on the side of the beach, Madison and the rest of the Egrets could see the area where some of the nests had already been built, where the hatchlings were expected to hit the beach. The night was very still. Everyone kept their eyes on the sand. If all went as planned, the silver moon would provide all the light needed for a pathway from ocean to sand. Once the first turtles climbed out of the sea, the campers would move on to the beach for full observation.

  Ann steadied her tape recorder as she whispered into it. “Waiting for the turtles,” she said.

  Patiently, everyone waited for a change in the horizon, a break in the surface of the water. The buzz of Leonard’s walkie-talkie and the others was a foreign sound compared to the easy gush of waves breaking onshore—and the low, consistent chirp of crickets. The tide was rising.

  Madison heard Leonard’s voice cut across the night air.

  “Loggerheads. Due north.”

  The campers spun around. Then, led by counselors holding little red lights (because red light was not off limits), they moved toward the north. Everyone wanted a look at a turtle as it made its move on to the beach.

  But the group got more than it bargained for. As one turtle slowly dragged its body up on to the sand, the cluster of campers hung back, waiting and watching. Then, all at once, at least a dozen more turtles appeared at the waterline, and, just like that, the beach seemed covered with turtles. More specifically, turtles on a mission.

  The moonlight was the best light for watching the turtles. It was enough for observation yet it let the campers remain relatively undetected. Of course, with that many campers on the sand, it was tricky to keep a low profile. The group worked very hard to do so.