by B. R. Myers
He gave me a look. “This camp isn’t the only thing he owns,” he said. “Email is the easiest. I can reach him today. Susan lets me use her computer.”
I decided to ignore his attitude and concentrate on the running. “Good,” I said. Then I sped up our pace so he’d be too out of breath to talk.
That afternoon was perfect. Not one cloud interrupted the blue sky. I sat on the dock, watching campers sunbath on the float. My guys were in the cabin, just having returned from the showers after a sweaty game of basketball. The girl talk started at once, and some things shouldn’t be overheard by your nerdy, gay, female counsellor, so I escaped to the dock. Besides, the solace was a nice break; according to the clipboard we had an afternoon of macramé to look forward to.
I pictured Spencer somehow making a life-sized trap for me with his yarn.
“Jazzy!” Lacey sat beside me, smoothing out her lace—of course—cover-up.
I groaned inside. There goes my half hour of peace.
“Are you excited?” she asked.
“Not particularly.” I loved being ambiguous with her. I knew what she was hinting at, but I had no inclination to play along. I continued to stare at the water, wishing I had gone swimming ten seconds earlier.
“So,” she began in her fake let’s-be-best-friends voice, “are you going to the dance tomorrow night?”
“I forgot all about it,” I lied. However, running with Spencer made everything else fade in importance, including Kirk and Lacey. “I might show up for a few dances,” I said.
Lacey changed positions and fidgeted with her outfit. “My girls are so busy in the cabin, they’re being very secretive.” She looked at me expectantly.
“Okay,” I said, finally giving in. “I’ll bite. Why are they being secretive?”
“The cabin decorating contest, of course,” she said. “Is Cabin 4A participating?” she always accented the “A,” like it was a downgrade or something.
I tried to hold back a laugh. “You mean other than the usual dirty underwear and socks?”
She smiled, happy with my answer. “Girls are so much fun. Don’t you wish you had them?”
This phrase was getting as redundant as Kirk’s “Are you ready to quit?”
“Just Jesse.” Kirk walked up the dock toward us.
I was surprised he’d even seen me, considering I was being outshined by the lace production beside me.
“Are you taking Spencer for morning runs?” he asked.
His tone caught me off guard. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lacey grinning. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “He’s only had two sessions, but he’s really good,” I said, making it sound positive as possible. “Even more shocking, I can actually have a conversation without the threat of dog poop being thrown down my top.”
Lacey cringed. “I had no idea.”
“That’s just a possible example,” I said.
Kirk towered over us. “I thought you were doing water safety with him?” he asked.
“Well, no,” I said. “I started this instead.”
“I told her, Kirk,” Lacey said.
He reached for my hand. “Let’s go for a walk,” he said. He pulled me up and we made our way toward the grass.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I began.
Kirk stared straight ahead. “All right, let’s hear it.”
“That Spencer should be getting water safety instead of running, or at least I should have done water safety first. And if I’m running with Spencer, what are the other three kids doing?”
He continued to avoid eye contact.
“But it doesn’t affect the other three’s schedule,” I explained, “because we’ll be running before anyone gets up. And I already spoke with Alicia about doing his lessons next week to catch up on the ones he’s already missed.”
He stopped walking and turned to face me. His eyes trailed down to my naked throat. My heart slammed against my ribs.
“You didn’t replace the necklace,” he said.
I held up my wrist, showing him my other jewellery. He reached out and ran his fingers over the letters and the rest of the world slipped away.
“Jazzy?” he read out loud.
I was dizzy from his touch. “It’s from one of Lacey’s cupettes.”
He hit me with those eyes. “Her what?”
“Cute pets,” I said. “They’re such little cute pets…her girls.”
Kirk rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I had to ask,” he explained. “Susan heard you were letting him out of class.”
I opened my mouth, ready to complain. Of course it had been Lacey. But if I bitched I would sound just like her.
“Yeah, sure, I understand,” I said. “What are you going to tell Susan?”
“I’ll tell her the truth,” he smiled. “That you’re in control of everything, and there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I can visit that office again. She’s so pathetic every time she looks at that empty glass case.” Oops.
“About that,” he said, looking at me sideways. “I thought you said you didn’t run anymore.”
I swallowed. “Spencer is helping me get back in shape.”
“If he ever gets too tired…”
His suggestive tone made me smile. “What?”
Kirk put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I have a pair of sneakers.”
“I’d be too fast.”
He gave me a grin. “Are you saying you’re too hard to catch?” he asked.
I folded my arms in front of my chest. “More like a challenge.”
“But the reward is all the better because you have to work hard for it.”
My heart was thumping so hard I thought it would jump out of my mouth. I walked away, and made sure not to turn around. I preferred to think he was still staring as I turned the corner.
TWENTY-TWO
Spencer and I had only been running together for a few days, but we’d already slipped into a comfortable routine. He would wake first and pick up the snack from the kitchen, then after we ate, we’d take off for the trail into the woods. I always began the jog by talking about the things I knew best: running and Jesse Owens.
“You know,” I said, “his name was actually James Cleveland Owens, but everybody called him J.C. When he started a new school in grade nine, the teacher asked for his name, and he said J.C. Owens, but she misheard him and wrote down Jesse Owens, and it stuck.”
“Kind of like your name,” he panted.
“I’m named after him.”
“Yeah, I know that, I’m not a total idiot. I mean he started out with initials, and ended up with a first name. And you have his first name, but we call you by your initials.”
“Huh.”
“And,” he continued, “his nickname is the same as your initials.”
I was dumbfounded. “I’ve never noticed that before.”
Spencer snickered. “Well, maybe that’s because you’re a dork.”
I started to run faster. I could hear him struggling to keep up and that made me race even harder. Soon the wind was the only thing around me. I kept my eyes on the top of the hiking trail. My lungs burned and I knew I was pushing it, but I couldn’t let him mouth off too much. When I reached the top, I did a little victory dance.
“Beat that, dork!” I hollered.
Only my echo answered. I caught my breath then called out again, “Beat that, dork!”
A woodpecker tapped on a tree, breaking the silence. A chill ran through me as the familiarity of the scene screamed from my memory.
“Spencer!” I ran back down the trail. It was so twisted I couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of me. He’s only fallen behind, I kept telling myself. Then I saw him on the ground, unmoving, his leg at an unusual
angle.
“Spencer!” I gently shook his shoulders. “Are you okay? Wake up! Wake up!”
It wasn’t a broken bone I was worried about. My shaking fingers found his pulse. I brought my cheek to his face, hoping for breathing. I counted to five, silently praying. My plea was answered…with a loud belch in my ear.
“Beat that!” he laughed.
I pushed away and sat on the ground, pressed up against a tree, hugging my knees. I started to shake and couldn’t stop.
Spencer’s laughter quieted. “Sorry,” he said.
“It’s my fault,” I said. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t be running.”
“Are you okay? You look like you might be sick.”
Beyond Spencer, pale and covered in dirt, I saw Dad’s body lying on the trail, face down. “Oh god.”
“Should I get someone?” He sounded far away.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but that damn woodpecker kept tapping.
“J.J.?”
“I’ll be all right.” I put my head between my knees and breathed deeply, fighting the approaching blackness.
“I’ll get Kirk.”
“No.” I put my hand up. “Give me a few minutes.”
He sat beside me until I could open my eyes without screaming. The woodpecker finally moved on. Spencer’s voice was soft. “How fast did Jesse Owens run the two-hundred-metre dash in the Olympics?” he asked.
I stared at the ground. “Twenty-point-seven seconds.”
“Did he win?”
“He earned a gold medal and a new Olympic record.”
I raised my head and glanced at the trail.
Empty. No bodies.
We walked back to the Cabin 4A without saying anything. I lay down on my bed and listened to the soft whispers of the boys as they woke up. I slipped off my runners and put them back in the side pocket of my duffel bag—for good.
I was like a zombie for archery and tug-of-war. The guys stayed quiet, only whispering among themselves, sneaking glances my way. I dressed for lunch in a long-sleeved sweatshirt, my damp hair pulled loosely into a bun. I had stayed in the hot shower until the water ran cold, but I was still chilled from this morning.
Spencer, I guessed, had given the other boys the 411 on my odd behaviour. By the time the cupettes had regurgitated the story, the main hall was full of people convinced I had been attacked by a bear.
No one at my table was laughing. My seafood chowder grew cold. The truth was I really scared the hell out of Spencer and myself. The tray of food lay in front of me, untouched.
Kirk appeared with his own tray. “You’re looking pretty good for someone who wrestled a cougar,” he said.
“It was a bear,” I said.
“Move, please.” He tapped Scotty on the shoulder making him slide over. “What happened?” he asked, sitting across from me.
“Um…I went out too fast, and when I ran back for Spencer, I must have twisted my ankle and I got a little light-headed.”
Kirk kept staring at me, waiting for me to continue. “You’re all right now?”
No.
“Yup.”
Spencer piped up. “J.J., you can’t say that; it makes you sound like a loser.” He looked at Kirk. “I got mad because she wanted to prove how amazing she is, so to scare her, I pretended to be dead.”
“You arsehole,” Scotty interrupted suddenly.
“Scotty!” Kirk raised his voice.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s over.”
“Yeah.” Spencer stretched out his arms, and folded his hands behind his head. “New run tomorrow, and guess who’s going to be the big loser? And I don’t mean in the usual way, J.J.”
“I’m not running anymore,” I told him. “It’s over.”
He sat forward and leaned in closer. “What?”
I pushed a wet strand of hair back into my bun. “I can’t do it.”
“I was kidding about passing you,” he said. “God, you’re so competitive.”
I pulled the sleeve of my sweatshirt over my hands. I was so cold. “No,” I said.
Spencer put his hands out palms up. “Okay, look, you can talk the whole time. This is all I hear when we run anyway. Jesse Owens, blah blah blah…my mom is the best…Grandma can breakdance…my dad…”
“Shut up!” I said. A few of the tables around us had gone quiet. I stared down at my tray, fighting the sting of tears. “I’m not saying you can’t run.”
“That’s great, thanks. I can’t wait to go running at dawn by myself.”
Duff signed quickly.
“Oh, shut up!” Spencer answered back. “You’re good at everything.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You really suck, you know,” Spencer said.
Kirk stood up and pointed at the door. “You’re gone,” he told Spencer. “Stay in your cabin until I get you.” Kirk looked back at me, but I pushed back the bench and left the hall. No point in staying where I’m not wanted.
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing soccer with Scotty and the twins. Lacey was on my team, and I did my best to kick the ball straight to her head. The constant exercise kept my mind occupied and was proving to be the best thing for me.
Kirk had come to watch the last half of the soccer match and he brought Spencer, who laced up and took to the field. He was fast. With an unexpected surge of guilt, I noticed he was wearing new runners—the kind I had recommended. His dad must have had them shipped express delivery.
After the game, everyone began to file down through the trails to the beach. I lagged behind, hoping to talk with Kirk.
“Hey,” I said, falling in step with him.
“How are you feeling?” I watched the pathway, careful to avoid looking at the spot where I had almost passed out. Kirk slowed down his pace, staying beside me.
“Um…better. I’m sorry about lunch. I should have had that talk with Spencer privately. I didn’t realize how much he was enjoying the running.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I think he’s over it now.”
We stayed quiet for the rest of the trip down. We were among the last to leave the woods. I was glad to be back in the sunshine. “Thanks for bringing him to the game.”
“Sure,” he laughed. “You’re very apologetic this evening.”
“It’s a habit of mine, from screwing up all time.”
He wrinkled up his nose and laughed at me. “Is this going to carry over to the dance tonight?”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
Lacey called out to Kirk, “Over here!” She was sitting on one of the overturned kayaks, looking beach party perfect.
The smile on his face was automatic. “See you later, Just Jesse,” he said, already jogging toward her.
I skipped supper, prepared to keep a low profile for the rest of the evening from everyone, including Kirk and certainly from Spencer. If he put an eel in my bed after I did nothing, what’s he going to do when he’s really pissed? Forgetting about the dance seemed like a good idea for a lot of reasons.
I sat on the porch steps in what Chloe claims is my worst outfit ever: soccer shorts and a big baggy T-shirt. Without warning I was hit by a wall of spice and talcum powder.
Spencer and Scotty pushed through the screen door and stood on the porch. Plaid shorts and polo shirts were apparently the dress code for this evening. Unfortunately, I was downwind from them. “Um…guys, body spray is for after showering, not instead of.”
Scotty looked at my outfit. “Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked.
“I’m not going.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Spencer said. “You have to go.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “There’s a bucket of pig’s blood rigged with a macramé rope to fall on me tonight.”
He put a hand to his ch
est as if shocked. “That’s so unoriginal,” he said. “Although…”
“Get going.” I waved them on.
They scrambled down the stairs like a walking Ralph Lauren ad. Scotty stopped and called back, “You have to come, J.J.”
For the next half hour, I sat on my bed, staring at the bag labelled DANCE. The music trailed over from the main hall. Originally, I had planned on spending the evening safely tucked in my bed, with the lights off, hoping to forget today ever happened. But I imaged sending an email to Chloe about how I chickened out. I knew what she would say. “What would Old Jesse do?”
Looking in the mirror, I gauged the time and effort it would take to get ready. My hair had dried to its usual waves. Hopefully my outfit would make up for my lack of finesse with hair products. Feeling like Cinderella standing in her ripped dress beside the pumpkin patch, I opened the bag.
TWENTY-THREE
The main hall wasn’t so much decorated as empty. The usual row of tables and benches had been moved to the side, with baskets of chips and party mix placed every few feet. The lights were down and the music was thumping. The dance floor was mainly full of girls, with the boys looking on sheepishly from the side.
Hesitating at the doorway, I adjusted the patterned silk headband and smoothed out the pale yellow halter top dress, wishing I had worn a sweater and opted for the ballet flats. Wearing Chloe’s wedge sandals guaranteed I was the tallest girl in the room.
My own warriors of puberty were clumped in their usual corner. I had an odd sense of pride; they were probably the cutest bunch in the room. I spotted Alicia and she waved me over to her table.
“Hey!” she shouted over the music. “I heard you were attacked by bees this morning.”
“Um…yeah.”
“Every summer I worry that I’m going to miss television and movies and stuff, but having you here this year has been more entertaining than I can remember,” she laughed. “You’re a hot shit, Jesse. I’m glad you’re around.”
“Thanks.” I looked down at my Jazzy bracelet and smiled.
“Speaking of hot,” she said.
Dressed in a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of faded jeans, Kirk strolled in with his hands in his pockets, looking like he had just happened upon the event. I hated how he managed the ‘scruffy yet sexy’ look so perfectly.