Frenzy

by Robert Lettrick

  “Easy peasy?” she asked.

  Floaties nodded his head, continuing to blow bubbles.

  Heath couldn’t help but feel a little cheerier watching big Floaties making silly motorboat sounds in the middle of the Dray. Even Quilt Face seemed to relax some. She stopped growling and cocked her head to one side as she watched.

  “Okay, that was perfect.” Molly laughed when Floaties came up sporting a huge grin. “As long as you’re blowing air out, nothing gets in. Make sense?”

  “I like the way you teach,” Floaties said, then shot Will a look of contempt.

  “The next part is simple, too.” Molly placed her hand on Floaties shoulder. “We put our whole face in the water.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Great,” Molly cut him off, “you’re not supposed to think. You’re just supposed to relax and get your face wet. Watch.” She bent her head down, easing her face into the water, just past her ears. Her long red hair spread out like kelp across the surface. She blew bubbles that way for five seconds and then came up for air. “Not very different, but hold your mouth shut and blow the bubbles from your nose this time.”

  “Not your butt,” Cricket added helpfully.

  “Hush,” Molly scolded. “Ready? On the count of three?”

  “I’ll count,” Floaties insisted. “One…two………three.”

  He took a huge gulp of air and plunged his face into the water like he was bobbing for apples. A cloud of giant-sized bubbles spread out around Floaties head.

  “Whale farts.” Cricket chuckled.

  Floaties stayed under for a full twenty seconds, at least. When he came up, he took another big gasp and squeegeed his face with his hands.

  Molly clapped excitedly and the group joined in.

  “Take a picture and put in on the fridge,” Will said, his eyes rolling in their sockets.

  “Now what?” Floaties asked, encouraged by the applause and eager for more success.

  “This part may seem kinda silly, but I swear it works. Have you ever heard the song ‘Noah Had a Submarine’?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Floaties.

  “I have,” Dunbar chimed in. “They used to sing it at body image camp. It always got me thinking about sub­marine sandwiches. I really hated that place.”

  “I know the words,” Theo said.

  “You guys can help me sing it. Everyone can. It’s easy peasy.

  “Some say Noah had a boat, but I have to disagree.

  Instead it was a submarine that went beneath the sea.

  In forty days and forty nights, the problem to be solved?

  They wanted to play shuffleboard, so the animals evolved.

  The horse became the seahorse. Ney glub, glub, ney, ney.

  The chimp became a sea monkey. Ooh glub, glub, ooh, ooh.

  The snake became a sea snake. Hiss glub, glub, hiss, hiss.

  The dinosaur became extinct, because it wasn’t on the list.”

  Heath thought Molly had a tin ear for music, but she could definitely make a living doing animal voices for cartoons. Her mer-chimp was spot-on.

  “Got it? Sorta?” she asked.

  “I think so,” Floaties said. “But I feel stupid.”

  “My dad taught my little sister and me to swim by having us sing to each other underwater. It really works.”

  “That’s sweet. Your dad taught you…that’s really…” Emily breathed wistfully, then trailed off.

  Molly said, “Time to put your whole head in the water, Floaties. I’ll go first and start the song. Ready?”

  “I’m ready,” Floaties said apprehensively.

  “Down we go.” Molly sang the first verse above water and then took the second verse below. Floaties sang, too, fumbling with the words. With a pained expression on his face, he joined her, continuing their duet underwater. When it looked as if he might be starting to panic, Emily dropped down and made it a trio.

  “C’mon,” Heath said, sinking with a smile on his lips. “This looks fun.”

  Soon the whole group was under the river, holding the circle around Floaties, singing in exhalation. No one had expected Will to add his voice, but that was his style, to do the unexpected; he graced their choir with a pitchy tenor. Will did a lot of things well, but singing wasn’t one of them.

  Heath thought about what Dunbar said. About things getting back to normal. He had to admit, things felt pretty normal at that moment. Not because they were singing a stupid campfire song beneath a river. It was that they were being kids. Having fun. Making friends. If he didn’t need oxygen for his lungs, he would have stayed below, singing their silly song until Quilt Face and the rest of them died of old age.

  The next half hour saw Floaties enjoying one breakthrough after another. He was able to float with his whole body, then glide while leading with his head. Molly introduced his arms into the lesson, and Floaties propelled himself forward. When he incorporated Will’s breaststroke on his own volition, and did it with passing ability, the group celebrated by howling together at the sun. Quilt Face did not like this at all, and she and her family broke into a new bout of rapid pacing. The group didn’t care.

  Floaties hugged Molly tight, and she squeaked like a mouse.

  “Good job, Molly,” Will admitted.

  “Thanks.” She giggled shyly.

  “We need to get going,” Dunbar said. “It’s getting late.”

  “Last one to Granite Falls stays in the river!” Floaties proclaimed, taking the lead with newfound confidence.

  And that, Heath thought, is how you teach someone to swim.

  They progressed another half mile down the Dray, stopping abruptly when Emily froze midstep and gasped. She stared straight down into the water. “Oh, oh.”

  “What? What is it,” Heath quickly waded toward her.

  “Keep back,” she warned.

  “Em, what’s wrong?” Emma asked.

  Demurely, Emily replied, “I have to pee.” She looked mortified.

  “Oh,” Heath said, relieved it wasn’t anything serious. “Go ahead.”

  “What! Here?” She turned on him with the comparable fury of Onyx. “I’m not doing that! Here! Surrounded by…YOU!”

  Heath assumed you encompassed everyone, but he still didn’t appreciate the sour way in which she’d aimed the word at him.

  “The ladies room is just past the coyote, up the stairs and to the left,” Will needled. “We’ll wait here for you.”

  “Shut up!” the twins said in stereo.

  “Okay, okay.” Heath tried to calm Emily. “What would you like us to do?”

  “I don’t know!” she panicked. “What are you gonna do when you have to go?”

  Heath looked away, a sheepish expression on his face. Emily’s eyes got owlishly wide. “You’ve been peeing in the river?”

  “Yeah,” Cricket said with a casual shrug. “That’s what dudes do.”

  “No, that’s what gross animals do!” Emily flared. She was turning beet red. Heath wasn’t sure if her color change was triggered by anger or embarrassment—probably both.

  “There’s a game we always played at Lake Tupso,” Cricket shared, despite Heath’s attempt to shush him. “Whoever takes a whiz in the water has to impersonate a birdcall. You know, as a warning.”

  “That’s why you’ve been making those stupid chicken noises?” she seethed.

  “Um…actually, I was a barn swallow.” Heath felt foolish as soon as he’d said it.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize my perfect mourning dove impression,” Dunbar said with an indignant air.

  “You guys sounded like chickens to me, too.” Heath ­suspected Will was attempting to exclude himself from Emily’s wrath.

  “Don’t act so innocent,” Emily cut into Will. “I heard your chickadee.”


  “Well”—he hazarded a chuckle—“at least you could tell what my impression was.”

  “I was the only one actually trying to imitate a chicken,” Emma declared proudly.

  “Ugh! You too, Em?” Emily covered her face with her forearms to make the group disappear.

  Heath had an idea. “What if the rest of us head down the river a bit? We could give you some privacy?”

  Emily opened a crack between her arms and peeked through. “Not too far?”

  “Not too far.” Heath gave her a gentle smile. “There’s a bend up ahead. We’ll wait for you on the other side.”

  “Want me to stay?” Emma asked dutifully.

  “Go!” Emily snapped.

  “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

  “Um, shouldn’t we be headed upstream from her?” Dunbar asked the group. “Because you know, the river flows downstream and—”

  Heath prodded him forward. “Just come on.”

  The group moseyed away from Emily. When they’d gotten to the elbow of the river bend, Cricket waved to her and hollered a warning, “Be careful if any porcupines come floating by! They’re crazy for salt.”

  With the group slowed and waiting on Emily, Heath seized the opportunity to take Theo aside. He needed to talk to the boy. He wanted to confirm a suspicion. Theo didn’t like being singled out, but he followed Heath to a shaded spot not far from the shore and they talked.

  “You don’t like Floaties very much, do you?” Heath was blunt and straight to the point.

  Theo looked uncomfortable, but he answered the question. “No. I hate him.”

  “Because he made you his runner last summer, didn’t he?”

  Theo’s expression was dark and not because of the shade.

  “Did he hit you?”

  “Once. Slapped me on the side of the face pretty hard. And he shoved me a couple times. Knocked me down. Why are you asking me this stuff?”

  Heath glanced over at Floaties, who was chasing a trout through the water for Molly’s amusement. “Floaties and Thumper had my summer planned out, but Will put the brakes on that. I was lucky. I’m sorry Floaties made life hard for you, Theo. But do you think maybe you can let your anger go? Hanging on to resentment isn’t good for your health. Trust me, I know.”

  Theo pondered this advice, then replied, “I don’t hate him because he hurt me.”

  “Really? Then why?”

  “I hate him because after all he and Thumper put me through, the kid doesn’t even recognize me! It’s bad enough he ruined my summer last year, but he doesn’t even remember my face! It’s like I wasn’t even a person to him, just some robot to push around and do his bidding!” Theo was so angry he was shaking.

  “Yeah,” Heath said with a drawn-out sigh. “That would tick me off, too.”

  They watched their bully in silence. Floaties actually caught the darn fish and offered it headfirst to Molly for a kiss. She obliged, giggled, and then insisted he put it back into the water, causing Dunbar heartbreak as he watched his potential lunch swim away.

  “Look at him, Theo. Floaties isn’t a bad guy. Not at the core. He’s just had a bad life.”

  “So maybe he’s destined to have a bad death, too.” Theo had no intention of letting go of his anger. Heath could see that now. Floaties had done too much damage.

  “That won’t happen. We’ll get to Granite Falls,” Heath assured him. “We’ll be okay. But you should forgive him. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “You think, huh?” Theo was done. He waded backward toward the group and pointed to the rabid animals watching them from the bank. “You said not to blame the animals because they’re sick. It’s not their fault that they’ve become monsters, because they had no choice, right? Well, Floaties had a choice. He didn’t have to become a jerk like his dad. Maybe you can forgive him for that, but I can’t.”

  Heath watched Theo go, sad for him. Then he considered the “monsters” on the shore. Most of the animals had followed the group, except for the wolves, who stayed put across from Emily, the straggler. They must have thought the group was leaving her behind because she was sick or had been cast out. This made Heath nervous, but he knew that as long as Emily stayed in the water she’d be okay. Still, when he heard her scream his first thought was of Quilt Face sinking her teeth into Emily’s flesh.

  The group ran back toward Emily’s position, twisting wide at their waists to cut through the water faster.

  “Emily!” Heath and Emma shouted in rounds.

  “I’m okay!” she hollered back. “Hurry!”

  They found her where they’d left her. She was facing the east bank, shivering. She pointed a trembling finger at a thicket of brush. “Over there.”

  Cricket wished he’d hadn’t looked, because his immediate and reflexive reaction was to vomit in the river.

  “Oh, sick!” Dunbar choked, then dry heaved a few times himself.

  A man was lying under the bushes. His clothes were tattered and covered with blood. He was wearing a yellow helmet, shorts, and a life jacket that had been torn open in several spots. He was dead, they knew that immediately. The corpse was gruesome, too, but that wasn’t what sucked such a strong reaction from the group. A huge vulture was perched on the body, tearing away at it, swallowing whole chunks of flesh.

  “Rough luck,” Will muttered.

  “What was he doing out here?” Emma asked, ­wincing when the bird started playing tug-of-war with an extra stretchy piece of meat.

  “That’s a kayaker’s helmet,” Heath pointed out. His ­family had four well-used kayaks hanging from hooks in their garage. He knew what the gear looked like.

  Floaties glanced up and down the river. “Where’s his boat?”

  “It’s not here,” Will said. “The current must have carried it away.”

  “If we find it, we can use it,” Theo said excitedly. “Someone can kayak to Granite Falls and send help back for the rest. I’ve kayaked before.”

  “Me too,” Heath said, but when Emily glanced at him, he quickly added, “You can go, Theo. If we find the kayak, I mean.”

  The vulture extracted its bloody beak from the corpse and hopped down to the river. It flapped its huge black wings, floated a foot off the ground, and then dropped like a rock back into the weeds. It did this several times, but couldn’t take off.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Molly asked. “Do you think it got rabies from eating…?” She couldn’t finish the question.

  “No, that’s not it.” Will watched the vulture with fascination. “Birds are immune to rabies.”

  Heath fished a rock out of the water, just in case. “We don’t know if that’s true with the Flash. Maybe it affects—”

  “It’s not ill,” Will insisted, then after a pause he said, “It’s too full to fly.”

  Cricket threw up again. He looked whiter than Heath had ever seen him before, which was saying something, because the boy nearly glowed in the dark.

  “Vultures are gluttons,” Will told them. “They eat until they’re so heavy they can’t get off the ground. They’re nature’s cleanup crew, which is a good thing during an outbreak of rabies. They dispose of the infected dead carcasses before other mammals come along, eat them, and ingest the virus too. It’s a pretty efficient disposal system, if you think about it. Eating the dead.”

  “Ghoulish.” Molly shuddered. Heath wasn’t sure if she was referring to the bird or Will.

  Emma took her sister’s hand. “Did you go?” When Emily nodded slowly, Emma sympathetically mirrored the gesture. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  As the group waded away from the grisly scene, Heath noticed that Will was not among them. He looked back and saw his cabinmate fixed in place, engaged in a staring contest with the vulture. Will’s eyes were vacant and his jaw hung slack. He was slowly cocking h
is head from side to side, mimicking the bird’s movements exactly. It looked to Heath almost as if Will and the vulture were communicating, but what could Will be asking it? How’s the grub? Heath had seen a lot of creepy things today, but Will silently communing with the engorged vulture took the cake.

  “Let’s go, Stringer!” Heath called out, attempting to end Will’s morbid behavior.

  It took Will a few seconds to unlock from his trance. When he finally did, he turned and flashed Heath a wide but humorless smile. “Sure thing,” he said, then pushed through the water past him.

  Deciding it wasn’t quite full after all, the vulture returned to the corpse for a second helping. Sometimes an idea slips into your mind that you just wish hadn’t. The bird had feasted well on the dead kayaker, but as Heath took a last, disgusted look at the vile creature he wondered if there was any Sylvester in its stomach, too.

  (Sung to the tune of “There Ain’t No Bugs on Me”)

  Oh, there ain’t no squirrels on me, on me.

  There ain’t no squirrels on me.

  There may be squirrels on some of you girls,

  But there ain’t no squirrels on me.

  BY SIX O’CLOCK, the sun was lolling toward the west bank, starting its descent into the Pacific Ocean. It was still fairly bright out, but now the forest shadows were creeping across the river, crawling over the group, chilling the perspiration on their skin. The summer’s fat cicadas were chirping so loudly they could be mistaken for car alarms. Cricket felt the need to discuss them, of course. “Did you guys know that cicadas are one of the few insects that can perspire?” Nobody pretended to care. Cricket looked especially tired. He dropped the topic of bug sweat quickly.

  They’d been in the water for almost three hours and were starting to feel the effects. Heath thought it would be heaven to have a shower and put on a clean pair of socks. At Christmas his aunt Wanda always gave him socks and every year he’d smile politely and act like they’d been at the top of his wish list. What he wouldn’t give to be lounging by the fire, wearing a pair of warm, dry Aunt Wanda socks now.

  He thought about his socks back at the cabin, too. The ones wrapped around his vial of OxyContin. He wanted those socks even more.