A Million Miles from Boston

by Karen Day

  We’d played this game ever since I could remember, trying to see who could find the most unusual thing. One time Dad found a wallet with fifty dollars on the sand.

  “I see minnows, starboard side,” I said.

  “What? Are you making that up?”

  “Sore loser!” I laughed, then rolled over and sat. Fog drifted over the water, hiding the buoys and boats in a soft white haze.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Dad said. “Ian and his dad came by while you were babysitting. He seems like a nice kid. Polite.”

  “Ian’s not polite.”

  “He was today. And quiet. His dad talks a lot. Big guy. Said he’s taking the summer off to work on the house. Landscaped, put in a new dock.”

  “Did his dad say anything about the rope swing?” I asked.

  “No. But he thought the Big House might have some water damage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He pulled back some shingles and found rotten wood. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “Maybe just repairs, although he said we should think about tearing it down. He’d help with something new, bigger. He had lots of ideas.” Dad grinned.

  “Tear it down!” I said. “Really?”

  “Whoa, nobody wants anything to happen to the Big House. Let’s just wait and see what he finds when he takes a closer look.”

  I sank. The Big House had been here for almost a hundred years. Everyone on the Point had some kind of memory about it. Mom had loved the Big House. We couldn’t tear it down.

  took my shoe box from under my bed and counted my money: one hundred dollars in twenties, tens and singles. I’d have had a lot more if I hadn’t spent so much on snacks and craft supplies.

  From under the money I pulled out the boat magazine and opened to the kayak I’d circled. Durable polyethylene hull, adjustable padded backrest, lightweight at only forty pounds. It came with a storage cover and a carbon fiber paddle and I’d need every dollar from camp and babysitting to pay for it.

  “Lucy, time to go,” Dad called.

  I glanced at the other kayaks, cheaper but not as nice. Then I put back the magazine, shoved the box under my bed and ran down the stairs.

  Dad and Bucky were outside next to my wagon, which was filled with supplies for the night. We were on our way to the July Fourth clambake at the beach. I stood inside on the porch with Superior. “If we could trust you, you’d be invited.”

  Three years earlier she’d stolen a hot dog out of Mrs. Pollard’s hand, and ever since, she’d been banned whenever food was served. She pulled back her ears. I hugged her.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I promise to be back before the fireworks.”

  At the beach I spread our blanket next to the Steeles’. Then I set our plates and silverware on the blanket. I breathed in the thick smell of burning charcoal and wood.

  “Lucy!” Becca ran up. “We need you! For chase!”

  “After dinner,” I said. Then Henry called her and she took off.

  The older girls sat on the rocks. I walked down to the water, closer to them. Kiki, wearing a Bates sweatshirt, said something that made everyone laugh but I was too far away to hear. I should just walk up to them and say hi.

  But I’d tried that at a party the summer before. They’d stared at me as I’d walked up and stood there and then Kiki had asked, “Do you want something, Lucy?”

  She asked nicely. But I felt like an idiot, because suddenly I didn’t know what I wanted. And so I said the first thing that came to mind. “The blues aren’t biting yet.”

  Kiki bunched up her eyebrows, confused. “The bluefish? What?”

  Tonya giggled. My face burned as I ran off.

  Maybe if someone went with me, I’d feel braver. Too bad Mei hadn’t come to visit yet.

  Allison, sitting next to Kiki, smiled at me. But as I started toward them, she turned away.

  I looked around. Mrs. Richards stood alone at the water, barely blinking her rain-cloud eyes as she looked out into the bay.

  “Lucy!” Lauren ran up. I pretended to run away in slow motion. She grabbed my legs and we fell, giggling.

  Mrs. Richards stood over us, smiling. “You goofballs.”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Graham yelled.

  “Lucy.” Henry ran up to me. “We wanna play chase.”

  “After dinner,” I said.

  Henry groaned. “It’s gonna get dark!”

  “Want to see what I found?” Lauren pulled on my hand.

  “Goodness.” Mrs. Richards laughed. “It must feel good to be needed so much.”

  I blushed. “Well, I made up this game and everyone wants me to play because they get confused about the rules.”

  “Could you ask Ian to join?” Mrs. Richards asked.

  I squeezed my hand into a fist. Ian wouldn’t want to play with the younger kids.

  Mrs. Richards sighed. “He’s having a hard time.”

  “Oh.” Ian?

  A man walked up and Mrs. Richards said, “This is my husband, John.”

  “Hello!” Mr. Richards had dark eyes, like Allison and Ian, and a deep, booming voice. With his white hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, he seemed a lot older than Mrs. Richards. We shook, his huge hand practically swallowing mine.

  “This is Lucy, Ian’s friend from home,” Mrs. Richards said.

  Mr. Richards nodded. “Oh, sure, sure, met your dad and brother.”

  I pulled my hand away and stood taller. “Hi.”

  “I hear this clambake has been a tradition for years,” he said. “Wonderful idea.”

  I nodded. “We have lots of traditions. The talent show. The fishing contest. The regatta. See Mr. and Mrs. Steele over there? They’ve been coming to the Point since, like, the 1950s. Everybody pretty much likes things to stay just the way they are.”

  Mr. Richards’s eyes flitted to something over my shoulder. Had he heard me?

  “You can tell us about these traditions when you stop by.” Mrs. Richards smiled.

  “I will!”

  “Oh, there’s Brad Avery,” Mr. Richards said.

  He nudged Mrs. Richards and she winked as they walked off. I joined Dad and Bucky in the food line; then we sat on our blanket. I watched Mr. Richards talking to everyone. He seemed okay.

  Mrs. Richards and Ian sat on their blanket, eating. I couldn’t ask him to play chase, because I didn’t trust him.

  Lauren yelled, “Lucy! Time to play!”

  What to do about Ian? I didn’t want Mrs. Richards to be mad at me.

  “Lucy!” Becca called.

  “I’m coming.” I jumped up and started walking. Ian would probably break something else. Tease me. Scare the kids. I kept going until I stood in front of him. “Wanna go to the field to play a game?”

  Mrs. Richards lit up. “You should go.”

  Ian poked the sand with a stick. Was he even listening? But when I started to walk away, he followed.

  The sun had gone down behind the trees but the sky was still light. The air smelled like smoke, clams and salt water, then like dirt and pine as we went down the path. It was quiet, the voices from the beach fading, our steps cushioned by pine needles.

  I glanced back at him. He’d been quiet like this when we were alone, working on our water project. He finally looked at me before dropping his eyes.

  At the field the kids crowded around the tree, where a new swing hung from the branch.

  “Look, Lucy, it’s even better than before!” Becca jumped onto the swing.

  “Wow,” I said. Two thick chains were bolted to the branch with big silver screws. A long metal bench hung at the end of the chains.

  “It’s easier,” Becca said. “You don’t have to squeeze your thighs around the rope.”

  I turned to Ian. “Did your dad do this?”

  “Yeah,” Ian said. “It’s so sturdy that three people can be on it and it won’t break.”

  “Can I have a turn?”
Bucky asked. Ian lifted him onto the bench next to Becca. Bucky and Becca swung back and forth. “Higher, higher!”

  There were so many things you couldn’t do with the new swing. Twist until you were dizzy. Swing in a big circle. But it did look safer, and learning to hold on wouldn’t be as hard.

  The other kids giggled as they watched. How long would it be until they forgot about the old swing?

  “Let’s play chase,” Becca said.

  “Are you playing?” Peter stood next to Ian.

  “Someone has to tell me how.” Ian grinned.

  “It’s like hide-and-seek,” Peter said, “only the person finding you has to protect home base. When you get found, you have to stay on base until someone frees you.”

  “Why not play kick the can?” Ian asked. “That’s what it sounds like.”

  “Because,” I said. “We want to use the whole field.”

  “You can play kick the can in a bigger place,” he said.

  The kids looked at me, wide-eyed. I frowned and put my hands on my hips.

  “Oh, you made it up, so you’re the boss, huh?” He saluted me. Peter giggled.

  “Don’t play if you don’t want to,” I said.

  “No, no, I’m in.” He saluted again and everyone laughed.

  He made me so angry!

  “You can be my partner,” Bucky said to Ian.

  “No, he’s mine,” Peter said.

  I glared at Bucky and Peter. Ian was a hero because his dad had put up a fancy swing?

  Becca started counting and everyone bolted. I ran to the back of the Big House. Ian stood behind my favorite hiding tree.

  “Ready or not, here I come!” Becca shouted.

  I didn’t want to hide near Ian, but I had no time to go anywhere else. He crouched behind the tree and I stood over him. He smelled fresh, like the wind. Becca ran past and then it was quiet.

  “You run that way,” I whispered, pointing left. “I’ll go the other way.”

  “No, I want to go to the right.”

  “Fine!” I took off. For the next half hour, I found great hiding places. Then I ran to my tree again. I grabbed a low branch, swung my leg over it and climbed until I reached my safe spot. The leaves were good cover and no one had ever found me there.

  The spotlight on the back of the Big House crackled and turned on, lighting the dirt below. I watched Peter run past. Then Henry ran by and crouched in the corner where the storage shed connected to the Big House.

  After a while I glanced at my watch but it was too dark to see. Superior was terrified of fireworks. I needed to go home. I had just started to climb down when Ian ran up and hid behind the tree. If I jumped down now, he’d know my hiding place.

  Minutes ticked by. Run away, Ian, I screamed in my head. When a huge sparkling white light exploded over the trees, I jumped down.

  “What the … !” Ian stumbled backward.

  “Sorry.” I sprinted past him and met up with Bucky in the field.

  “Where were you?” Bucky asked as we ran. “She’s gonna be so scared!”

  “I know.” We raced home. We were in front of our cottage when a second firework lit the sky, white streaks reaching over the bay, then a third. I threw open the door, then ran through the porch and kitchen and up the stairs.

  Usually we sat on my rug, Superior trembling between us. I looked in my closet and saw her curled in the corner. Fireworks filled the sky as Bucky and I squished in next to her. I left the door open just a crack.

  “I’m so sorry we’re late.” I stroked her head. She trembled, panting.

  The closet was hot and smelled like mildew and wet dog hair. Guilt twisted my stomach. The year before, I’d stayed in bed with the flu for three days and Superior had never left me. Jenny had to put on the leash to get her outside.

  Now her body shook; her tongue hung out. Sweat dripped down my back as I fingered the hairs between her toes. We kept talking to her.

  “It’s hurting her sensitive ears,” Bucky said. That was how Dad explained it.

  If it hadn’t been for Ian, I’d have been here on time. I felt each explosion, deep and painful in my chest. Did Superior feel it there? Maybe we both had big spaces inside us and the explosions filled them up and took over our bodies.

  Now the fireworks came quickly. Boom. Boom! Finally everything was quiet. But fifteen minutes passed before Superior stopped trembling and we got her downstairs. Outside, the air was cool, the moon bright.

  Superior stretched out, rolled onto her back and began wiggling, legs and paws up. I got on my back, too. The grass was wet and cool and tickled my neck. Bucky joined us. Superior started snorting and sneezing, her tail wagging, and we giggled.

  We heard the wagon squeak and then Dad came into the backyard. “What’s this?”

  “Lucy’s closet was so hot!” Bucky said.

  Dad squatted and rubbed Superior’s stomach. “You’re the best girl, aren’t you?”

  “Dad, guess what?” Bucky said. “Ian’s dad put up a new swing. It’s awesome!”

  “I heard,” Dad said.

  “It’s not that great, Buck,” I said. “You can’t even go in big circles anymore.”

  “Yeah, but Ian said you could put a bunch of people on it and it won’t break. And that it won’t ever wear out. And Ian said—”

  “So you believe everything Ian says?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I kinda like him now.”

  Great.

  I followed Superior as she walked around the yard. When she stopped, I stroked her back. Her coat was as dark as the night and soft and warm.

  I looked up. Millions of stars were little white pinpricks in the dark sky, as far as I could see. Below me the dock creaked and the water lapped against the shore and the moored boats.

  Back in Boston, when I couldn’t sleep, I thought about nights like this up here. Quiet. Beautiful. Peaceful. I took a deep breath, the warm salt air filling my lungs.

  I wasn’t going to let Ian ruin it.

  livia and Lauren wanted to play rescue princess.

  “Rescue princess?” I glanced at Peter and his sister, Becca, who were arguing about kickball teams.

  “We’re princesses, but our evil stepmother put us in an orphanage when our father died.” Olivia pointed to the play structure. “You have to rescue us.”

  “Give me the ball!” Becca yelled. Peter threw it, hitting her in the head. She charged at him, knocking him into the grass.

  I ran over and pulled them apart. “Stop!”

  “It’s her fault,” Peter yelled. “She keeps grabbing the ball.”

  “No, I don’t!” Becca said.

  “Stop or we won’t play at all!” I said. Peter and Becca scowled at each other.

  I put home plate near the play structure and split up teams—Bucky, Henry and me versus Becca and Peter. I told the little girls, “Stay on the play structure. I’ll rescue you when it’s our team’s turn to kick.”

  But the girls kept shouting from the play structure, “Help! Rescue us!” And Peter and Becca argued over who should pitch, who should run for me, who was up first.

  Finally I gave up. “Snack time!”

  I handed out granola bars, then dropped to the ground, exhausted. Superior was tired, too, from running back and forth with me.

  I glanced at my camp schedule. Nothing went as planned.

  A truck pulled up. Mr. Richards and Ian got out and examined the porch. Mr. Richards wedged a shovel under a loose shingle on the Big House and pulled, breaking it into a dozen pieces.

  I handed out juice boxes, watching until I had to investigate.

  Mr. Richards smiled as I walked up. “Ian, it’s your friend. What’s your name?”

  “Lucy,” I said. Ian didn’t look at me. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking for water damage, termites. I saw some activity in the crawl space.”

  “Aren’t termites bad?” I asked. Lauren ran up, giggling, and grabbed me.

  “Sure. Wat
er damage is, too. If either gets into the supporting beams, we’re in big trouble. Might have to replace the beams. Maybe the whole structure.”

  “But you can’t tear it down! The Big House has been here since 1922.”

  Mr. Richards laughed so loudly that Superior jerked her head to look at him. “You’re one of those people, know the dates of everything? My daughter’s like you. Knows everything, too. We’re just checking things out. No need to jump to conclusions.”

  I glanced down at a huge bucket at their feet, filled with hammers, a saw and other tools.

  Mr. Richards’s cell phone rang. “Hang on, it’s in my truck. Ian, I’ll be right back.” He walked off.

  Peter ran up with the others. “What are you doing?”

  “They’re going to tear down the Big House!” Lauren said. Everyone gasped.

  “That’s not what he said.” I shook my head. “He doesn’t know anything yet.”

  “But why?” Becca asked.

  “Big water damage,” Ian said. Everyone looked at him.

  “What’s that?” Henry pointed to a long, thin metal pole poking out of the bucket.

  “This?” Ian grabbed the pole, jumped up and thrust it in front of him. “My sword, and I’m a pirate. I’ll cut your heart out and sell it to the first person who pays me!”

  He talked in this weird accent as he sliced the air with the pole. “Take that!”

  The kids giggled and Peter kept saying, “Do it again!” I put my arms around Olivia and Lauren and pulled them close. He was kind of funny, but he could hurt someone if he let go of the pole.

  Ian stabbed the air again and again. The kids kept laughing.

  “Ian!” Mr. Richards charged over to us. “For God’s sake, can’t I leave for five minutes without you screwing up? I told you not to touch anything.”

  Ian’s cheeks reddened. I was so surprised that I looked away.

  I led the kids back to the field and said, “The Big House is fine. Don’t worry!”

  I showed them how Superior could catch a tennis ball and they forgot about the Big House. But I kept watching Ian and his dad.

  The next couple of days were cold and rainy. On Wednesday we held camp inside the Big House, playing duck, duck, goose and making papier-mâché masks. Peter was bored, but we ended camp with a game of Twister, which he won.