Hi Camryn. I’m working on my term paper. Well, not right at this exact moment, obviously. I want your opinion on it when I get the rough draft done. Okay? I liked the story you wrote. When are you going to do your novel? Have you seen Romancing the Stone? You should. I love the part where Joan Wilder finds the hidden jewel because she had written circumstances just like it in her novel. You should write a novel like that. Kate and I didn’t have a lunch today, so Eric gave us his apple. But she didn’t eat it so Eric and I shared an apple together! How sweet! Kate and I went to ‘The Place’ last night and I talked with Eric. He kept looking at me, shaking his head, and as he walked away, he gave me this intense look and then he said, “Don’t look at me like that!” I can tell you more later. The bell’s gonna ring, so, bye. Sarah
* * *
Kate unexpectedly drove up in the early February snow, catching me on my way out. “Want to go to a movie? Friday night,” she cooed.
“I have to babysit—Coach Bowman’s kids.”
“Really. You know Victor’s house is just around the corner from there. You can probably see it from the back yard.”
My stalker mind engaged. Victor, still an item of interest, had actually asked me to dance the Friday before. “Cool.”
“Sarah’s with Crud tonight,” Kate noted. “When are you done babysitting? We could crash their little party.” Kate went on, conspiratorially, “Sarah was hoping they would go to their favorite parking spot.” She raised her eyebrows twice.
A mischievous smile lit my face. “Pick me up at ten.”
Babysitting went reasonably well; the kids weren’t too bratty. I was pretty sure I didn’t want any children of my own—single parenthood, out of the question. An unruly brat to try my temper (even though my temper was difficult to rouse) terrified me. I hadn’t considered how upbringing influenced where a kid ended up on the brat meter. I figured it was essentially a given that most kids were borderline red zone at least.
Nearly every five minutes I manned my observation post. Victor’s house was visible just over the hedge. Nothing going on. Next check, nothing going on. Feed children dinner. Next viewing, he’s gone! Victor left. The red jeep was gone and I missed it! I kicked myself. Where did he go? I pondered this, still periodically checking to see if he returned, until Coach and his wife came home.
* * *
I filled Kate in on the night’s events, had to or else explode with nervous excitement. Reese was with her, as they caught an early show without me. “You are not going to believe this!” I exaggerated, “I kept looking out the window at Victor’s house and he still managed to leave undetected!”
“Bummer,” Kate said, rightfully astonished. Reese listened.
“Maybe he’s with Crud and Sarah,” I wondered aloud.
“No. They’re on a date,” Kate said, thinking my idea impossible.
“Let’s go see.”
We drove past Crud’s place. No Victor there. He must have been at work, so we directed our attention to other victims. “Let’s check their parking spot,” I singsonged.
Reese smiled and laughed. “You’re devious.”
“I know,” I acknowledged, smiling back. We pulled up to a secluded wooded lot. Naked trees stood silent in the cold and snow. Leaves and sticks littered the ground. Crud’s truck was back in there, lights off and windows steamed. “This is great,” I whispered, “Let’s sneak up on them.” The three of us quietly exited the car and crept along the tire tracks to the truck, Kate on one path, Reese following me on the other. “Go around to Sarah’s window. We’ll go on this side.” As Reese and I strategically flanked right, leaving the snow-packed tracks, we heard a creak and a slow snapping sound.
“Damn,” Reese said.
“Shh . . . what?”
Reese reached around by his foot. “My shoelace is caught.”
“Caught?”
“On something metal.” He yanked his shoelace free, ripping it. “Let’s go,” he said, then flashed a small flashlight at Kate underneath the truck, signaling her.
We jumped up in front of the windows and yelled, “Surprise!”
Sarah and Crud froze in a massive lip lock, semi-clothed. Crud hit his fist on the steering wheel and gave us evil eyes. Sarah laughed, happily greeting us as she straightened her blouse.
“Hey, you guys get out of here,” Crud yelled.
Ignoring him, Reese turned his flashlight toward the metal object, investigating. “It looks like some sort of a trap, pretty big one.” Rust flakes colored the disturbed snow.
Crud stormed over, kicked it. “Bear trap.”
“There’s no bears here,” Kate said, thinking what an awfully dumb idea it was to set a bear trap where there were no bears. “Plus it’s illegal.”
“How’d you find this place?” Reese shone his flashlight around while he asked. Crud didn’t answer. “Looks like some sort of a bonfire over there.” He pointed the flashlight toward a circular clearing, charred wood in the center.
“Who’d have a bonfire way out here? It’s not a Boy Scout camp or anything,” Kate said.
“Will you three shut up and leave already?” Crud stared straight ahead, into the blackness.
We talked to Sarah a few minutes then left them to their extracurricular activities, laughing at the memory of their stunned faces, proud of ourselves all the way back.
“That was so great,” Reese said, clearly having a good time. “Except for almost having my leg snapped off. Do you know what that’d do to my game?”
I gave him a noogie in reply to his rhetorical question, looked at Kate. “Mission accomplished.” We high-fived all the way around, celebrating our success.
* * *
Sarah passed me a folded piece of notebook paper. On the outside it read, Try and beat this Masterpiece.
Hi Cam,
In Domestication Class (Home Economics) we have to carry around raw eggs for a week pretending they are children and make sure they don’t break. Kate is eggsitting for me and Crud. She walked over to Crud and said, “Can I babysit Edgar?” He had this huge smile on his face! I know he still has a thing for her. I wish he didn’t, but I’d rather he was happy (I’m such a martyr!) than him going out with me just because that is my desire. Kate likes him too, although she’d never say so out loud. Crud says he likes me, but I know he’d rather go out with Kate. I wish he would, then he could find out for sure who he would rather “go after.” Do you know what I mean?
—Sar
* * *
Valentine’s Day arrived. Sarah hoped for something from Crud. Kate acted as if it wasn’t even a holiday. I had no expectations. Victor tried hard to ignore me ever since he found out I was spying on his house. Kate spilled the beans to John, who told Crud, who told Victor. Nothing was sacred.
Reese and I were shooting the breeze at our lockers before class when some girl from fourth period walked up to me. “Victor wanted me to give this to you.” She handed me a box.
“Really?” Reese and I looked at the package. I opened it. There wasn’t a card or anything, just a huge heart-shaped box of chocolates. I squealed. This was so cool. I had never gotten anything from a love interest for Valentine’s before in my life! Maybe he really did like me. Reese looked on, curiously, then excused himself for class. “Wait a minute.” I stopped Reese from going. “Want one?” I opened the lid.
“Sure, thanks.” He helped himself to a mystery-centered milk chocolate and headed to Biology.
Next hour I penned a note to Sarah telling her all about the chocolate Valentine encounter. The hour after that, I traded notes with her on my way to English, where I then sat in my assigned seat next to Reginald, who was annoying and always trying to hit on me. “What’s today’s news?” he asked as I unfolded the duck-shaped note. Sarah enjoyed folding modified-origami style notes, creating anything from dogs to tampons. As I glared at him, I noticed something green stuck in his teeth. Gross. I looked away and focused on the note. It contained depression.
Cammi
e-
Happy VD! Did you get anything? I haven’t gotten anything. Boo hoo. Kate, on the other hand, got a heart-shaped sucker from Crud! I think he likes her and I think I’m going to die! Sprinkle my ashes in Crud’s face.
Sad Sarah
How awful for Sarah, I thought. Walt Whitman commanded my attention, spewing forth from the mouth of English teacher, Mrs. James. I had to contemplate this twisted development later, when Walt simmered down.
* * *
I found Sarah, overly depressed about Crud’s interest in Kate, at her kitchen table eating Rocky Road ice cream with red wine on the side, her parents conveniently absent. “Why did he do this to me?” she sobbed, feeling as though he had walked out on years of marriage. I poured the rest of the wine down the drain and hid the bottle in my backpack so she wouldn’t get caught. Not the time to discuss my own Valentine surprise; I switched gears.
“I went to the basketball game last night. They are so awesome,” I said, clearly enthused about yet another win. Sarah had missed it, grounded for letting her homework slide. “Why don’t we go to the finals?” I said, sure they were going all the way. “Get your mind off things.”
Sarah nodded agreement, still sniffling.
* * *
Kurt and Reese headed to Champaign early for practice, extremely pumped about playing in the finals.
“I’ll show my dad. I am as good as Ryan,” Reese had said to me, his sights on more than one victory.
The whole town rallied behind the team, giving them an extraordinary send-off. Signs that read “Hornets Down State” and “Good Luck Hornets” hung in every shop window. Residents tied black and gold ribbons to their trees and banisters. Even Harvard’s arch rival, Marengo, hailed the black and gold. People waved and cheered as the basketball contingent passed through on their way to the tournament. It was the biggest, most magical and surreal thing to happen to Northern Illinois high school sports in decades.
All the Harvard fans congregated together for the second half of the semi-finals, hooting and hollering, doing the wave. The sea of black and gold seemed as if the whole town had driven two hundred miles to witness the games.
“Hornets lead by four,” the announcer said excitedly.
“Dahlgren makes the shot for two.” The Harvardites roared, cheering for more.
Reese scored over half the team’s points and was poised to make another shot when he came down on an opponent’s foot. He twisted his ankle, instantly down. And out. The crowd gasped and sprang to its feet. Reese waved to the fans, hobbling to the bench. The damage was done. He could no longer play. For the rest of the game, Reese sat, hunched over, ankle throbbing. He looked up with devastated eyes only to glance at the scoreboard. The opposing team tied the score within minutes. Then Harvard fell behind.
Knowing how much basketball meant to Reese, my heart broke. He’d given it his all to follow in his older brother Ryan’s footsteps. Ryan, a senior at the University of North Carolina and basketball all-star, had pro teams scouting him, going pro in his future. Reese’s dad was all over Ryan’s ball games and pending career. He lived vicariously through Ryan and at the same time mourned his own basketball desires, thwarted and unfulfilled. He had a successful basketball stint in high school in spite of being short, and thought he was God’s gift to the sport, but when Mr. Dahlgren tried out for his college ball club, he faltered in the fierce competition, never making the cut, nor peace with the outcome. Reese’s father told Reese that high school ball was small potatoes. Basketball was the only thing his father and he remotely shared an interest in even though his dad never attended any of his games. “When you become a university basketball star like your brother, then I’ll watch you play,” he had said. I was the only one who knew. Reese casually mentioned it to me one day with a pained expression on his face that said more than his words.
“No pressure,” Reese had said to me as if it was all a big joke and no big deal. Under the surface and unbeknownst to us, his father’s monkey was an enormous cross to bear.
While the Hornets felt victory that day in making it to the final four, in the end, they lost the game.
* * *
“Stupid ankle,” Reese said, as we waited for Sunday school to begin. He shifted his weight, crutches under his arms. “It still hurts.”
Kurt clapped Reese on the shoulder. “Great game, man.”
“Yeah, awesome game, Reese.” Sarah brushed a persistent tangle from her hair as she spoke. “Ouch.” She rubbed her head, easing the pain, then waved away a fly, which had been lighting on Kurt repeatedly.
“Didn’t you shower this morning?” I asked, half teasing. “Bring him from home?”
Ordinarily, Kurt didn’t turn shades of red when I teased him, but this time Ashley Brown stood within earshot and he resembled a beet. “Very funny,” he said in a low whisper. Kurt shooed the fly again.
The gathering hum of second-service attendees prompted us to mosey down the hall toward our classroom. From the corner of my ear, I overheard a gleeful Oh hi, Eric, nice to see you. Sarah began a rousing chorus of “Shoo Fly,” which caused Reese and I to glance at each other, silently asking, Is she drunk? Before the fly settled again, I nabbed it midair.
“What’s Eric doing here?” I whispered hurriedly, “He hardly ever comes to church.” Before Reese could answer, I handed him my buzzing captive. “Hold this.”
“Wha—?” Reese looked shocked, yet intrigued that I had just given him a live fly, then answered my question. “I think his mom put him up to it.”
Sarah stopped singing, eyeballed Reese’s cupped-together hands, and said, “Caught a buzz?” She laughed hysterically at her own joke. “That’s punny!” she said, laughing some more.
“Let me see the little bugger,” I said after plucking a hair from my head. I secured the fly with a hair leash, careful not to squash it. It flew around, tethered. “Need a pet?” I offered the leash to Reese.
“You are so weird, you goofball.” He took the leash and tacked the end to a bulletin board, leaving the fly to buzz around, still restrained.
Disbelieving, Sarah and Kurt chided, “You two are weird.”
Reese and I looked at one another, shrugged. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Eric’s aunt and grandmother gushing over Eric, his mother standing proudly behind. You look so handsome! rose above the crowd’s murmur. Eric stood there, looking bored.
We continued our chat.
“Your ankle still hurts,” I repeated, worried. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“The doctors thought I might need surgery,” he said, readjusting his crutches, getting more comfortable. “But they decided I could just stay off it awhile.”
“Will you still be able to go to next weekend, the Williams Bay retreat?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good thing, since you missed the New York trip,” I teased, running my fingers over the holes in his crutch.
“About that . . . I would have gone if I’d have known you back then,” Reese blurted, then looked like he wished he hadn’t, embarrassed.
I pretended not to hear and said, “Where is William’s Bay anyway?”
Reese smiled, glad to save face. “Lake Geneva. Wisconsin.”
Eric passed by the bulletin board, fly still buzzing. With his fist, he ended the fun, then kept walking.
“What’d ya do that for?” Sarah yelled. She looked at the fresh carcass hanging from its tether. “Seems like something Victor would do.” The hair on my neck bristled. “Hanging around with him too much?” she shouted after him.
* * *
Sarah and I sat together in homeroom, supposedly listening to the teacher, but instead wrote juvenile, disjointed notes to each other on the back of an old homework assignment.
Sarah: My dad thinks he knows who killed our calf.
Camryn: Who?
Sarah: He wouldn’t tell. Just said someone had new info.
Camryn: So . . . ?
Mr. Patterson walked by. I non
chalantly slipped the note beneath my folder. Then, when the coast was clear, Sarah snuck it back out. We’ll talk later, she scribbled. I nodded, starting a new subject.
Camryn: This weekend we should get into the guys’ room and short sheet their beds. Good idea?
Sarah: Superb idea.
Camryn: Have you ever noticed a guy’s heart beats superfast when you’re real close?
Sarah: No.
Camryn: Notice next time.
* * *
Other kids, strangers, came to the retreat as well. The first day, we split up into groups for icebreaker activities, Sarah and I joining the blue team. Our group broke into pairs for a three-legged race. Nancy, a large girl from Racine, partnered with me. Sarah partnered up with a boy from Crystal Lake. “On your mark, get set, go.” The facilitator launched the pairs. Nancy and I immediately tripped and fell on top of each other. She flattened me, grass staining my white pants. Sarah and Brent cozied their arms around each other’s shoulders and fell into an easy gait. Sarah’s wavy brown hair bounced in rhythm. Nancy and I managed to right ourselves after stumbling over one another a few times. Sarah’s duo led the pack and won an excited victory. We came in next to last. The last place team crawled over the finish line. Sarah won an Ecumenical Woods refrigerator magnet, first prize . . . and a new object of her affection, Brent. Crud was history. Besides, he and Kate had been out together several times since the Valentine’s debut.
Kurt and Reese rejoined us, telling tales of their icebreaker event, a singing contest: they stole the show. Harold Faltermeyer’s “Axel F” was their tune and they were the only ones who could ‘sing’ it. I was proud and impressed by their unique vocal talents. Reese rested himself face down on a wooden bench outside. Cottony clouds filled the rich blue sky. It matched Reese’s eyes. His well over six-foot frame left no seating for companions. “Nice pants.” He noted my grass-stained knees. Sarah had been filling my ear full of Brent as I walked to the bench and sat atop Reese’s rear. “Ugh,” Reese hhmmphed.
Love, Carry My Bags Page 3