Candace meandered around the kitchen, snapping pictures of household objects as Lenny cradled the banjo and plucked a tune—it sounded nothing like the Beverly Hillbillies. He glanced up at me and responded to my quizzical stare. “Bach, man. Classical. Cello suite in G.”
“Oh,” I nodded, more impressed with how fast his fingers moved than with the actual song, but the longer he played the more it grew on me. Sunshine hummed along at the stovetop. Candace moved to her side, photographing Sunshine from odd angles as she turned bacon and cracked open eggs. Then Candace turned the camera on me.
“For posterity,” she said as I turned away. That was all I needed—evidence. Not only was I completely out of my element, but I was inside Doc’s house.
Doc carried on as if this whole scene was nothing out of the ordinary; half-naked, non-family members hanging out, while a Northern hillbilly played classical banjo, and some lady collected evidence, clicking away with her camera. My mom would have freaked out.
Lenny set aside the banjo and tucked a cigarette between his lips. Oh crap! Mom would definitely smell that on me if she didn’t smell bacon first.
As he lit a match, Sunshine chimed in, “Not inside, Lenny.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” he chuckled, his voice as deep as Doc’s. He snuffed the flame, scratching his blond beard that matched the hair on his meaty chest. He wasn’t super tall like Doc, but he had veins that popped across his biceps and forearms when he rested them on the table.
Doc’s hand settled on my shoulder. “Well, son, I’m taking her up today. What do you say? Did you get permission yet?”
“Pretty much. I just gotta double-check,” I lied. I didn’t mean too—it just came out.
Candace set a full coffee cup in front of me. I had never drunk coffee before. I mean, I had tasted it, but Dad said it would make me hyper and wouldn’t let me drink any at home. The idea of defying him made the coffee all the more tantalizing. Besides, there was nothing illegal about a thirteen-year-old drinking coffee. Careful not to spill it, I smiled and sipped. It didn’t taste half bad. I sank back into my seat, scanning the room and sipping.
On the opposite wall, an open doorway led to another large room. It had the feel of a den or living room, with a sofa and chairs. I tried to place it, given where we were in relation to the cove. Both the kitchen and den—or great room—were part of the lake-facing wing, whereas the center piano room separated the east from the west wing.
I had gone back to sipping when a spout of strawberry blond hair yanked my attention to the great room doorway. Amelia wandered toward the table, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Her hair stuck out in all directions, and her faded pajamas hung from her shoulders, skimming her chest. Wow, what an incredible sight. When her squint landed on me, she gasped, smoothing her hair and trying to cover her boobs at the same time. “What is he doing here?”
“I invited him,” Sunshine sang out from the stove.
Amelia rolled her eyes in Doc’s direction and huffed, then stomped out of the room.
I withered and slurped another sip of coffee. My appetite left with Amelia.
Doc nudged me. “Oh, don’t worry about her, son. Fifteen-year-old girls don’t like being seen in their jammies, that’s all.”
Sunshine set a plate of eggs, bacon, and a pancake in front of me. “She just likes you. If she didn’t she wouldn’t care. Now eat up!”
Did she say Amelia liked me? At once, my appetite returned. I forked a piece of pancake and bit into unexpected texture, chewing with hesitation.
Squinting at his plate, Lenny spoke my mind. “What the hell kind of pancake is this?”
Sunshine called out, “Whole grain, stone ground wheat. Eat up. It’s good for you.”
Lenny doused his with more maple syrup and passed the pitcher to me with a grin. “Eat up, man.”
Doc gulped down the rest of his coffee. “Well, son, I’m taking off to check out my new radio, so if you want to come along, be here by ten.”
“Yes, sir.”
Amelia didn’t show up by the time I left, which was about ten minutes after I started eating. As I pedaled home, I didn’t know if I was more excited at the prospect of flying with Doc, or having seen Amelia in pajamas. I had forgotten about smelling of bacon and maple syrup, until I stepped into our kitchen and caught a whiff of burnt toast.
Mom stood at the counter, opening and slamming cabinet doors above and below the sink, rifling behind boxes of cereal and cans of Spaghetti-Os. She glanced over her shoulder at me.
“Where have you been?”
I kept a safe olfactory distance. “Out riding my bike.”
She rubbed the deepening creases across her forehead and then reached for her coffee cup, her hand trembling. Penny stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the table.
Mom dug through the contents of her pocket book. “Penny, I need to go to town. I’m leaving you in charge.”
Penny glanced at me with a sly smile. “Sure, Mom.”
“Have you seen my wallet?”
“No.”
Just then, Frankie burst out of our room. “I wanna go!”
Mom sighed, her eyes shifting all around the kitchen. “Where is that purse?”
“I saw it on the front seat of the car, Mom. Can I go, please? I never get to go.”
“Fine,” she relented with a sigh. “I’m going to put on my face. Go change into something decent and meet me in the car. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He jumped up and down. “Yippee!”
As soon as Mom and Frankie stepped out the front door, Penny returned to her room and emerged wearing beach attire.
I gave her a once-over. “So, where are you headed?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
“Not that I would ever tell.” I smiled. “Anyway, since you’re in charge, would it be okay if I went up in Doc’s plane with him this morning?”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t know, Ben. Mom wouldn’t like it.”
“Yeah, probably not any more than she’d like you hanging out at the beach with Percy.”
She glared. “You wouldn’t tell.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. No more than you’d tell if I went flying with Doc.”
Ten minutes later—and with permission—we hopped on our bikes and went our separate ways, but not until after she had left a note on the kitchen table.
Mom,
In case me and Ben aren’t here when you get back, we went for a bike ride together. Be home soon.
Penny
At exactly ten o’clock, I skidded around the hippie car to the side of the garage. Doc ducked to clear the wing as he strode to the end of the mooring. I put on my best casual posture and wiped my sweaty palms.
He bellowed, “Ben! Right on time. Good man.”
“Hello, sir.” I planted my hand in his and he gave it a firm shake.
“All set then?” he said, opening the cockpit door.
“Yes, sir.” He stepped aside and I climbed up and into tight quarters, scooting over the pilot’s seat.
“Buckle up, son,” he said as he shut the door and sank into his seat.
The instrument panel gleamed before me; gauges, knobs, dials, and needles. A control yoke in front of me and two pedals on the floor. Doc handed me a set of headphones and placed his own over his ears. “Let’s see how the radio works, shall we?”
He flipped a switch, pulled a knob, turned a dial, and then the engine revved. “Clear,” he called out at nobody on the mooring and pulled the yoke. Working the pedals on the floor, we turned toward the widest part of the lake, passed the island, and gained momentum. In less than a minute, our ride went from bumpy to smooth as we ascended. The engine vibrated through my body, like being one with the machine. My heart rose in my chest.
“Whaddaya think?” His voice came through the headset. “Can you hear me okay?”
“Yes, sir. This is great!”
He turned the yoke right
and we banked south. As the wings leveled, we circled up and around, over our camp and Whispering Narrows.
“Wow,” I said. “Your place looks even more gigantic from the sky.”
“Kind of crazy,” Doc chuckled. “Once upon a time, I thought I’d fill it with kids and grandkids. Then the wife up and died—left me with just the two.”
As enthralled as I was with the view, I glanced at him.
Without further prompting, he continued, “Sure I could have remarried. Had plenty of opportunity, but threw myself into work instead.”
“What kind of work?”
“Medical equipment. Probably should have thrown myself into being a father rather than a manufacturer. What’s the point in having a big house when your own kids won’t come to visit?”
“But your grandchildren visit.”
“Yeah, just have the two of them, though. Sunshine’s father lives in California—hasn’t stepped foot in any of my houses in ten years. And Karen, well—I’m afraid she’s a bit self-absorbed, especially these days with her wedding coming up. Demanded too much from my son and went the other way with my daughter.” He shook his head wistfully. “Don’t know what I’d do without my baby girls.” He glanced at me and laughed. “I’m just a crazy old man with too many regrets…. Never mind me.”
Even though he laughed, his mouth twitched, more like a frown than a smile. I looked away in discomfort. How could someone as rich as him have regrets? How could someone as great as him have a son that didn’t want to spend time with him? I would have given anything to have a dad like Doc.
We made another pass around the lake, this time continuing on to the east end, all the way over to the beach and circled it. I peered out the window. We flew low enough that I made out Penny by the lifeguard stand and Lenny’s rambler in the parking lot. I couldn’t pick him out of the clusters of people on the beach, but it seemed odd that he would hang out there and not on Doc’s stretch of white sand.
From there, we gained altitude and banked toward the north, up and over the mountain, following the ridge until it tapered to the west. As the hills sloped into a valley, I leaned into the window, peering at the open fields. I easily picked out Garver’s Market and the Galaxie parked out front. Mom must have still been inside. Although Doc maintained altitude, I straightened, moving away from view, in case Mom stepped out onto the porch. As if she could even see me all the way up in an airplane.
We made a loop back toward the south and east. Overall, the flight lasted less than a half hour, but it was the most exciting thing I had ever done in my nearly fourteen years. Someday, I would have a pilot’s license and fly a plane of my own.
Chapter 12
Here I am, still wallowing in this dark and depressing kitchen. It’s not just the dinge of disrepair—this cottage has always felt confined and dismal, so different from Whispering Narrows; an open amphitheater compared to this casket of a camp.
I trace the outline of painted daisies and hum a stanza of Bach. I’m not sure what it was about Doc, or if it was Whispering Narrows, but the environment over there fostered freedom of expression. Hippies crashed there. Live music played in the background. People hung out, wearing whatever they wanted. They smoked—albeit outside. I imagined they sat around in the evenings, engrossed in philosophical debates.
For years, I wished I had been part of their family. Even after I found out how screwed up they were, I still would have chosen them over my own family. With the exception of my relationship with Penny, I never felt as if I were part of my family—as if I had been switched at birth.
I read Sunshine’s note for the hundredth time. No matter how many years pass, I’m still trying to read between the lines; Sunshine was good at that. Was she born with a sixth sense, with the ability to tune into everything around her? Or did her parents—did Doc—cultivate that in her? I’ve always wondered about intuition. How does a person develop it? What role does genetics play in the way we turn out, and how much depends upon what we choose? Ah, genetics and exposure—nature versus nurture—the age-old psycho-philosophical debate.
According to the odds, I should be a miserable failure, struggling with addictions, running from the law, screwing up every life I touch. Not that I’m well adjusted, I mean, if I were, would I be sitting here in the dark, twitching away, raking up my past in hopes of some closure? Just the same, I would like to think I’ve been a contributive member of society, in spite of my upbringing.
Okay, sure, I’ve been told my “rescuer” personality is some sort of overcompensation, and yeah, I’ll admit Gretchen and Penny are a lot alike—maybe too alike. It’s not as if I was looking to fall in love with someone like my sister, but I can’t discount my need to “fix.” To rescue. And how did I acquire that characteristic? It’s not as if either of my parents were rescuers, that’s for sure.
I reread the card, I hope Penny is doing better …. and prop it against the box, knowing I’ll read it again over the course of the next few hours.
I stand and stretch. Penny’s room is next.
My sister’s door remains closed; ‘shut down’ comes to mind. With my hand on the knob, I half expect that when I open it, I’ll find Penny sprawled out on her mattress—her mouth wide open, arms flung overhead. Her latest Nancy Drew book might lie on the floor beside her bed and her clothing would be strewn across the room. I would have to be careful where I step or I’d trip over her sneakers. A gentle whiff of Heaven Scent cologne would greet me.
As I lean into the door, it squeaks open. I step into a room swept clean. Closing my eyes, I pick up the slightest scent of Penny. For the first time since arriving, my eyes and sinuses burn, and my throat constricts. I hold back tears but my vision blurs. So much for repressing emotions. I know I’m supposed to go ahead and let it all out and have a good bawl, but it seems counterproductive and anticlimactic. I would rather remember Penny and me laughing. We did a lot of that.
I close my eyes again. Tears subside as the memory of Penny’s laughter morphs from imaginary to so real I can hear it—light but crisp, like a shard of color bursting from the center of a blossoming flower and then finishing with a snort. She could get me laughing every time.
Even with the noise of fireworks shooting off from Doc’s lawn, Penny’s laugh cut through and echoed back. It was the Fourth of July and we had taken the rowboat out on the cove after dark. Mom sat on shore with Frankie.
I centered the rowboat in the cove, where blue and red burst into a million sparks overhead and mirrored on the water. A breeze rippled the surface, fracturing colors like a sparkling gem and drifting us away from shore. I flicked the oar, wetting Penny’s arm as her hand dragged in the lake.
I asked, “Are you going to say ‘Ooooo’ to every rocket?”
“No,” she laughed as green cut across the sky and exploded overhead. “Ahhhhhh!”
I smirked. “Making noise must be a girl thing.”
Penny’s foot nudged my leg. “Come on Benjie, it’s not that hard! Make a little O with your mouth and breathe out! Oooooo ….”
I rolled my eyes. The normal response would have been to express awe at the sights and sounds, but mouthing ‘Ooooo’ or ‘Ahhhh’ felt unnatural to me, as if showing excitement would leave me exposed, open to derision. But this was Penny—my safest audience—so I exaggerated the O and made my “Ooooo” sound for her entertainment.
“Okay, that’s fine, Benjie, but you’re supposed to wait for the fireworks.”
For the next few minutes, I did my best to Ooo and Ahh at the right moments, and each time, Penny laughed, which made me vocalize with all the more enthusiasm. I had always wished I were more like my sister, uninhibited, taking risks. Not that I was opposed to risk taking, but I always calculated how much pride I would have to pay. Humiliation cost a lot. I preferred favorable odds. But when I hung out with Penny, she could persuade me to do embarrassing stuff I would never risk on my own.
With my back toward the open lake, I didn’t notice that we had drifted
close to Whispering Narrows.
“Careful!” Penny pointed behind me. “You’re headed right for the dock.”
Before I had a chance to correct my course, we floated within oar’s reach of Amelia sitting at the very end of the dock. She raised her knees to her chest as though she was afraid I would ram right into her. Along the beach-facing side, Sunshine, Lenny, and Candace dangled their feet off the edge, kicking water.
Penny waved. “Hi, everyone!”
I twisted my oar to face them broadside.
“Hello, Ben,” Sunshine smiled as Candace waved.
Lenny added, “Hey, Fixer-man. How’s it going?”
“Fixer-man?” Penny said under her breath. I ignored her.
“Hi, Sunshine. Hey, Lenny. Hi, Candace.” I looked directly at Amelia. Her eyes shifted and returned to mine with a reserved smile. Sunshine had said Amelia liked me, but she didn’t seem to be sending out that vibe at the moment. It would have been weird if I didn’t say anything, and it didn’t seem as if she was going to, so I calculated the risk and put it out there. “Hi, Amelia.”
“Hi.” She offered a small wave as her gaze dropped to her lap. Loud whirring and a bang broke the awkward silence, as another round of fireworks sprayed overhead.
With a thrust of my oar, I rowed away.
“Hey, Ben,” Sunshine called out. “When are you coming back for breakfast?”
“Don’t know.”
“You know, you don’t need an invitation!”
My cheeks flamed as I nodded at the group, still visible under the quarter-moon. As I kept rowing, Penny breathed the word, “Breakfast?”
I cringed at the thought of Mom overhearing but doubted she had made out Sunshine’s words over all the commotion in the cove and across the rest of the lake. With another loud boom, multicolored light scattered overhead, reflecting on the upturned faces of all on the dock, except Amelia’s. Was she watching our boat float away in the dark?
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