Freefall Summer

by Tracy Barrett

  Oh right. No cell or internet at the camp.

  “You’ll be so busy you won’t even notice I’m gone,” he went on.

  I stared out the window at the familiar neighborhood going by. He still didn’t get it. I’d miss him—of course I would. But he had just sprung it on me, like my opinion didn’t matter, like I would automatically be okay with whatever he wanted to do. That was the real problem. That, and knowing that he would be doing something new and adventurous while I was at the DZ, where I’d spent most of my life, packing rigs, playing with Ripstop, listening to shoulda-died stories. Up till this moment I’d been fine with that, but now I felt like a hamster on a wheel. I couldn’t say this to Theo, not right before he left for weeks. I’d already come close to ruining everything.

  “It’ll be fine,” I echoed him. I was too tired of it all to argue anymore. “Sounds like a great camp.” I turned to him and made myself smile.

  “It is.” He pulled up in front of my house and turned off the engine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Coming in.” He sounded surprised.

  I got out. “Too much homework. Sorry.” I couldn’t listen to Theo tell my dad about the camp and pretend to be fine with it. I’d burst.

  “But, Clancy, I’m leaving—”

  “Sorry,” I repeated. I climbed the porch steps and let myself in.

  Inside, my dad was sitting at the sewing machine, making a custom canopy. Purple-and-green nylon swirled around him.

  “There you are!” He cut a thread and put his scissors down. “I was just about to call.”

  “We went to the park,” I said. I walked over and fingered the garish fabric. “Someone wants to be visible.” I tried to sound natural, but I must not have succeeded because he stretched and swiveled his chair around.

  He looked up at me without saying anything, an odd expression on his face. Oh right—the haircut. “Like it?” I asked, turning around so he could get the full effect.

  “A lot.” He cleared his throat and turned back to his work. “Where’s Theo? Didn’t he come in with you?”

  “He had to go.” I went into the kitchen before he could ask anything else. I didn’t want to have to tell him that Theo was leaving for the rest of the summer, and that I hadn’t known anything about it until just now. I knew I’d start crying, and I didn’t want to deal with explaining right now. And if I did explain, my dad would think I was crying because I was going to miss my boyfriend, when really it would be because I was hurt and angry.

  I didn’t even feel like calling Angie. It seemed like I was always whining to her.

  I remembered that my phone was silenced, and I glanced at it. I had a text from Denny: Monkey poop smells worse than you’d even think.

  I felt myself smile as I wrote back: How do you know how badly I think?

  Denny, after a long pause: Hey I thought you were ignoring me

  Me: Phone silenced. Sorry about the monkey poop

  Denny: It’s seriously not good. But the job looks ok. Nice people

  Me: How’s F?

  Denny: Don’t know yet. Dr said he’d be really bad for a while and then he’d either get better or not but the being bad part was going to happen either way

  As I tried to think how to answer that, Denny wrote: I just told my parents about buying the whole aff package. They think I’m nuts. Am I?

  Me: Not unless my dad and lots of other people are nuts

  Denny: See you out there?

  Before I could write See you, another text appeared. It was Theo: Need to talk

  Wait a second. Another “need to talk”? Theo wouldn’t break up with me over the phone. Would he? And anyway, he had just said he loved me.

  I texted Denny: See you Saturday. Biting my lip, I went into my room and closed the door. I took two deep breaths and then called Theo.

  “Hey.” His voice was warm and my tension relaxed just a tiny bit.

  “Hey.”

  “Something’s come up,” he said. “The camp just called.”

  I closed my eyes in relief. They didn’t need him after all. He was going to spend the summer here, being a lifeguard. But he continued, “One of the other counselors is on her way there, and her car broke down in the middle of nowhere. She’s staying in a motel, and they need me to leave tomorrow to pick her up.”

  I’d had to switch so fast from imagining Theo dumping me, to imagining Theo staying home all summer, to Theo leaving tomorrow that I couldn’t speak.

  “Clancy? You there?”

  I managed to say, “Why you? Why can’t someone else—”

  “She’s right on my way, and I’d have to leave the next day anyway. I have to get trained before the campers come on Saturday. Everyone else is already at the camp, except me and that girl.”

  Silence.

  “Clance?”

  “I’m here.”

  More silence. Then he said, “It’ll go fast, you’ll see. You’ll be so busy with your class and the DZ and everything.”

  I didn’t agree with him but didn’t want to spend our last day arguing, so we talked a little bit longer, and he said he’d swing by on his way out of town in the morning to say good-bye. Then he said he had to go pack, and that was it.

  I stared at my phone. My summer had been all planned—taking an art history class, hanging out at the pool with Theo, doing things with Julia, spending weekends at the DZ. And now there was a big hole in the “hanging out with Theo” part.

  “Clance?” My dad was outside my door. “Can I come in?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He opened the door and poked his head in. “You okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Was that Theo?”

  “Yup.”

  “You sure you’re feeling okay?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “You came home so early, so I wondered—”

  “Theo has to get up early tomorrow.”

  “First shift at the pool?”

  I might as well get it over with. I came out and sat with him in the den. He muted the TV and I told him about Theo’s job and how he had to leave first thing to drive to Idaho. Of course I didn’t tell him about the passion pit. For a second I thought it would serve him right if I did—he’d have to admit that I had made a good decision, despite all the times he tried to convince me that I never did. But the knowledge that Saint Theodore had even thought of it would be enough to make him lock me up until I was twenty-one.

  My dad listened until I stopped talking, and then he whistled. “You okay with this?”

  “It’s not like I have any choice.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that, C.C.,” he said. “This is a much better job than lifeguarding.” He sounded uncertain, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me, and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe he’d hover even more without Saint Theo around. Great. Just great.

  “I know. That’s not the point.” Of course he didn’t ask what the point was, and after a minute he turned the sound back on. We watched the newspeople wrapping things up.

  My dad switched off the TV and stood and stretched, his fingertips nearly touching the ceiling. He gave me a quick hug. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know.”

  “Out of sight, out of mind,” I countered.

  He laughed. “I don’t think Theo’s about to forget you. Sweet dreams.”

  That night I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. “It’ll be all right,” I whispered.

  But would it?

  Theo came by before my dad was even up. I was dressed and waiting for him on the porch. I acted cheery and told him to have a great time, and he kissed me so sweetly that it almost loosed the tears I was holding back. He waved out the window as he drove away. At the stop sign, he tapped the brake three times to make the lights say “I. Love. You.” Then he was gone.

  My dad dropped me off at the dentist for a checkup after breakfast. When I came out, carrying the little plastic bag with the tiny plastic floss dispenser and a toothbrus
h, he was waiting for me in the parking lot.

  “Julia could have picked me up.” I didn’t even try to hide my irritation.

  “I don’t mind coming to get you.”

  I do, I thought. “Or you could leave me the car and I could drive myself both ways,” I said without much hope, and sure enough, he shook his head. “So you’re going to drive me around the rest of my life?”

  “You’re not an experienced enough driver. It’s not like you can dirt dive a car accident to practice what to do ahead of time.”

  “So how am I supposed to get experience? Plus the state of Missouri thinks I’m competent. They gave me a driver’s license.” These were both old arguments and I thought I knew what my dad was going to say next, but he surprised me.

  “Tell you what. While we’re at the DZ, you can be the driver if I need something in Knoxton or if someone lands off and needs to be picked up. Once you’re used to driving in the country, we’ll talk about driving in the city. How would that be?”

  “Really, Dad?” I was so excited that I didn’t remind him that Hawkins, Missouri, hardly counted as a city.

  “Sure. And instead of paying you per pack job, I’ll pay you per hour so you won’t lose money if you stop packing to run an errand.”

  I leaned across the gearshift and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.” Progress!

  My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my purse. “You know you won’t be able to do that while you’re driving,” my dad said.

  “Duh! I’m not an idiot!”

  Theo had sent me a picture of a skyline with a text saying Kansas City. I replied: Call me when you stop for the night xoxoxoxo

  I leaned back, savoring my minor victory. I’d finally have some time to myself on the weekends, even if it was only when I made a run to the hardware store or picked up a stranded jumper.

  My dad made the funny little throat-clearing noise he always made when he didn’t know how to say something.

  “Fear not to speak, revered parent,” I said.

  “Do you need to go straight home?”

  I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. Why was he acting nervous? “Not really. Why?”

  “While you were inside getting tortured by the dentist, I texted Elise. Her office is just around the corner. She said to bring you by and we’d go out for coffee together.”

  “What, she wants me to go on your date?”

  “It’s not a date, Clancy. It’s just coffee. Besides, she specifically said to bring you along. She likes you.”

  We went out to a café near where Elise worked. It turned out they had excellent croissants—my favorite—and I had a pretty good time. Elise was taking a poetry-writing class online, so we talked a little about taking a class with no classroom.

  “What kind of work do you do?” I asked, eyeing a third croissant. Elise pushed it over to me and watched me smear butter on it without trying to hide her smile. I knew what she was thinking.

  “My record’s five,” I said, “but I’m out of training right now.”

  “I was the same way at her age,” my dad said. “I could eat a pizza, then go to a friend’s for dinner and eat so much I’d embarrass myself.”

  “I’m a paralegal,” Elise said, answering the question I had asked before my appetite became the topic du jour. We talked about that for a while, and then Elise said she had to go back to work. I pretended to be busy retying my shoe while my dad kissed her good-bye. It didn’t bother me to see him kiss someone, but he always acted shy about PDAs in front of me. Julia thought that was cute.

  “I like her,” I said while buckling my seat belt a little later.

  “Me too.” My dad didn’t add anything, but peeking at him from the corner of my eye, I saw that his neck was pink. Huh. I sat back. Of course he liked her if he was still seeing her, but the way he blushed meant something new. Maybe he was finally getting serious about someone. When I was little I used to wish he’d marry Angie, but after a while I realized that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Sooo…” I drew out the word because I didn’t know what I’d say after it. “Do you think you’ll—do you think the two of you will—I mean, stay together for a while?”

  “I don’t know.” He sounded so uncomfortable that he was making me uncomfortable, and I would have changed the subject if I hadn’t been so curious.

  “She’s not really like Mom,” I said cautiously. I hoped my comment wouldn’t make him stop talking.

  He gave a little snort. “No, not at all.”

  “You sound like that’s a good thing,” I said. “Like it’s good that she’s not like Mom.”

  He was silent for so long that I thought I had gone too far. Then he said, “There never was anyone else like your mother, and there never will be again.” And although what he said wasn’t an answer, this time I knew I should shut up.

  Angie was going back to New Mexico the next morning, so she came by and took me to Manuelito’s. I told her about Theo leaving suddenly but made it sound like I was okay with it. I didn’t usually fool Angie, but I was pretty sure she believed me. She had a lot on her mind, what with Leanne and Jesse and their kids, after all. If she’d really been my mother, she probably would have picked up on the fact that I was far from okay with it. Or I guessed she would. Not having had a mother since I was six, I didn’t know how good their radar was.

  Angie gave me a big hug when she dropped me off. “I’ll miss you, kiddo,” she said.

  “I’ll miss you too,” I whispered around a sudden lump in my throat.

  “Don’t be too mad at that boyfriend of yours. Call me anytime.”

  So I hadn’t fooled her, after all. After one last hug, I got out and went in the house, where my dad pretended he hadn’t been waiting up for me but had accidentally fallen asleep in front of the TV.

  Theo sent me photos from “middle of nowhere Nebraska,” some really pretty ones from Wyoming, then from Pocatello, Idaho, where he texted me: Sorry we had a fight on my last night. I love you—and I texted back that I was sorry too. That was the last I would hear from him until he went into town from camp, whenever that would be.

  For the rest of the week, I studied the lessons that were posted online and wrote a paper on ancient Chinese bronze work and hung out with Julia. I also heard from Denny a few times. He said that Frederick was still in the ICU, but things looked good. Denny was starting to get nervous about his next AFF, but he supposed getting cold feet was normal, wasn’t it? I wrote back that it was, that everyone gets nervous, that he’d be crazy not to be.

  My dad wanted to leave for the DZ on Friday right after I finished an online quiz. He said since Theo was gone, there was no reason for me to stick around at home. “I have other friends too, you know, not just Theo,” I pointed out. “I’ve been studying hard all week and I’m going to be working all weekend. Don’t I get Friday evening off? And don’t you want to see Elise?” He relented, so I went to a party at my friend Nicole’s house. Of course my dad called first to make sure her parents would be there. They were, but they might as well not have been because they always stayed in their room with the door closed when Nicole had people over. They had an amazing game room and didn’t seem to be bothered by noise.

  When I got to Nicole’s, a bunch of people were already there. Music was blaring in the den, and the TV was on with the sound turned off, tuned to a program that showed idiots getting into painful-looking accidents on skateboards. Nobody paid attention either to the music or to the idiots on the screen.

  I got some soda in a red cup and wandered through the den, greeting some people here and there. I’d known most of them since I was little. I blew a kiss to Cory, who had been my boyfriend in sixth grade, and as always, he clapped his hand to his cheek like the kiss had smacked him and pressed his other hand to his heart, pretending to swoon with love. His girlfriend, Hannah, fake-slapped him and then gestured at me to come over.

  I wove my way through the crowd, saying hi to people and tripping over feet. When
I reached them, Hannah said, “About time you got here! I thought I’d have to listen to him sing along with every song. Can you take a turn minding him while I get a drink?”

  “My tunefulness pleaseth you not?” Cory asked.

  “Nay, fair sir, your tunefulness pleaseth none,” I said. “It is sorely lacking in, er, tune.”

  After our eighth-grade field trip to see Macbeth, for a while everybody in our class had spoken Shakespearean—or what we called “Shake-speech.” Cory and I were the only ones who still did it. We could keep it going forever or until we drove everyone around us crazy, which was usually the point.

  Hannah had an even lower tolerance for Shake-speech than most of our friends. She stuck her fingers in her ears and said, “La-la-la-la-la” to drown us out.

  “Yon wench hath stopped up the access and the passage to her ears,” I told Cory, but Hannah heard, because she took out her fingers and said, “Who you calling wench, wench?” before leaving to refill her drink.

  “I see not thy paramour,” Cory said.

  “He hath departed for the wilds of Idaho, where he will instruct the youth of that kingdom in the art of climbing rocks.”

  “Seriously?” Cory asked, dropping the Shake-speech. “For how long?”

  “All summer.”

  “Good,” he said. Cory didn’t like Theo—and Theo didn’t like Cory—and neither one made a secret of it. “Now’s your chance to come to your senses. Maybe when Mr. Pretty Face is gone you’ll realize what a—”

  “Cut it out,” I said, and swigged my soda. “I’ll see you later. Hannah’s coming back.”

  I could have stayed; Hannah knew there was nothing to be jealous about. But I wanted to have fun, not listen to Cory ragging on Theo. So I went upstairs to see what was going on.

  I moved past some people playing beer pong and went to the card table, which was set up with a Scrabble game. A guy named Brian and a girl a year older than us named Maggie were concentrating on the board. A few people watched them. Scrabble seemed awfully tame, but then Maggie laid down some tiles with a flourish and said, “Double word score!” and instead of calculating points and adding them to some tally, she pointed at Brian.