Not Suitable For Family Viewing

by Vicki Grant

  “Yeah. Isn’t that just great?” I say.

  “No kidding!”

  He’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice. Does he not understand sarcasm or something? I go, “What’s with you anyway?”

  He does that “Me?” thing again. I wish he’d just drop the innocent act. It’s getting seriously boring.

  I say, “Yeah, you. What’s with telling Kay you’d take me to Port Minton? Why are you doing this?”

  He turns and looks at me.

  I say, “Keep your eyes on the road, if you don’t mind.”

  He goes, “Oops. Sorry. I find you distracting.”

  Please. I say, “Quit trying to be cute. Would you just answer my question?”

  “I’m not trying to be cute. I just am cute.” Oi jes am cute.

  I’m not going to respond to that in any way, shape or form.

  There’s a pause while he realizes that he’s not as charming as he thinks he is. He clears his throat. “Okay. Why am I doing this? Two reasons. One: Kay asked me to. She’s running that hostel all by herself since Joey died. She needs all the help she can get. So when she wants me to do something, I do it.”

  I put my hand on my chest and say, “Well, she must be absolutely delighted to have a knight in shining armour like you to look out for her!”

  I can tell I pissed him off. Good.

  He says, “That’s not what I meant.”

  I go, “Oh. Sorry. I guess it just sounded that way. And number two? What’s your other reason?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I guess I like a challenge. Least I thought I did—until you came along. I mean, what’s your problem?”

  “My problem?” I can’t believe this guy.

  “Yes, your problem. I’m this normal nineteen-year-old male and every time you see me you scream like I’m some crazed perv just desperate to”—he wriggles his neck back and forth—“have his way with you.”

  I should have known he wouldn’t be able to resist bringing that up again. Fine. I made a mistake. Score one for Levi.

  “So what’s that all about?” he says.

  My lips go tight. My chest cramps up. He must think I’m delusional, like I’m under the impression guys can’t resist me or something.

  He goes, “Tick-tick-tick. Would you like to use a lifeline?”

  Hilarious. He’s putting me on the spot. He’s making me feel bad. I don’t want to talk any more.

  “Hunh? What’s that all about?” He says, “Come onnnnn!” like I’m a baby and he’s trying to get me to toddle across the room.

  I can’t stand it any more. I blurt out, “I wouldn’t scream at you if you didn’t keep sneaking up on me all the time!”

  He gets this look of total shock on his face. He sits there shaking his head, with his mouth hanging open, his eyes bulging. He looks like he should be put in a home and just taken out on weekends.

  He says, “You’re some big on yourself, girl. You think I’m spending my days tracking you down? That what you think? Can we please just review the facts? First time, you flagged me down. Second time, I’m up on some frigging jeezly ladder with my earphones in, minding my own business, when I hear this god-awful caterwauling. I didn’t even know you were there until you started screeching! I was forty feet away! What could I possibly do to you? I can’t even spit that far! Then the last time, I’m just walking into The Dairy Treet for a cone…”

  “Oh, yeah? Really? The ice cream machine was broken!” I’m an idiot. Why did I say that?

  He laughs. “What’s that supposed to prove?”

  That you make me uncomfortable. That you make me do stupid things.

  “Nothing. I’m just saying.”

  “Fine. Mind if I go on?…So, even though, unbeknownst to me, the ice cream machine was broken, I walked into The Dairy Treet…”

  “With your girlfriend…”

  Shut up, Robin! It’s so obvious what you’re thinking. Just shut up!

  “Krystal’s not my girlfriend! And what difference would it make to you if she was?”

  He’s glaring at me. That bruise probably makes his eyes look greener than they are. (Mimi’s makeover guy always puts purple eye shadow on green-eyed people.)

  “None,” I say. “None whatsoever.” I point at the road. “Now will you please just drive.”

  He laughs like I’m pathetic and goes, “Anyway…then you start screaming at me…”

  I go, “Because you made me spill ketchup and Coke all over myself!”

  “Right. I made you spill everything…And did I make you throw your french fries at me too?”

  I should just shut up. I’m digging myself in deeper.

  “Yes! Because you deserved it! You and your not-girlfriend were laughing at me! Then you stood around making fun of me! I could hear you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” I’m not saying anything else no matter what he says.

  “You’re nuts,” he says.

  “I’m nuts? I should never have got in this van with you in the first place.”

  “No kidding! Well, finally, we’ve found something we can agree on.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Right. Absolutely. One-hundred percent.” I look out the window. I’m hopeless. Mimi did a show on “Social Ineptitude: The New Plague.” I must have seen it ten times. Did I learn nothing?

  There’s this long silence.

  He goes, “I’ll take you to the Port just so we can tell Kay we went there, then I’ll take you back. I’ll try to keep my hands off you until then.”

  Ha. Ha. “Thank you very much,” I say.

  “No problem,” he says. “Believe me. It’s no problem at all.”

  Levi turns off the highway onto the same road I went down that first night. It looks different. It’s not foggy today. I can actually see the ocean.

  We drive a while in silence.

  He says, “That over there used to be Port Minton High School.” His voice is totally flat, like he’s some lame cashier at the grocery store asking for a price check.

  I’m glad I saw the school already. I don’t have to look at it. I can act like I don’t care what he says. He just keeps up his little tourguide act.

  “Most of the houses over there are empty now. Some are used for cottages. City people, you know. They like the view, I guess.”

  I just go, “Unh,” and keep looking out at the water. It’s so smooth and blue it’s like an illustration in a picture book. I figure we’ll probably be turning around pretty soon, but the road keeps going and he keeps pointing out more stuff.

  When he says, “That used to be the rink,” I can’t help but turn and look. This must be where the hockey team played.

  He goes, “She’s alive! She’s alive!”

  I sneer at him, then twist around to get a better view of the rink out the back window. It’s made of that ripply metal stuff. It’s red and peeling and kids have tagged it all over the place. You can still see the sign that says Malachi Hiltz Memorial Arena.

  I say, “I thought his name was Enos Hiltz,” before I remember I wasn’t supposed to be talking to Levi.

  “Malachi was Enos’s father.” You can tell Levi was just waiting for an opening to start yakking again. “Enos built it—though I bet his wife made him do it. I understand the guy was pretty tight with his dollars…Hey! You want to know something funny about Mrs. Hiltz?”

  “No, not really,” I say.

  He mutters something under his breath and then says, “Fine. Suit yourself.”

  We head down a hill and a little town comes into view. The word town might be a bit of an exaggeration. It’s just a couple of streets down by the water. There’s a great big old blue mansion on the hill that looks like something right out of Beetlejuice. Most of the other houses are small, white and boarded up. A lot have these ancient “For Sale” signs fading away on the front yard. Quite a few, though—four or five, say—still have cars in front. There are even some peop
le walking around on the street. I’m kind of surprised.

  I say, “I thought this was supposed to be a ghost town.”

  He goes, “You did, did you?” and then doesn’t say anything else.

  He knows I’m asking him a question. Why doesn’t he just answer it? There’s no way I’m going to beg him. I shake my head and look out the window again.

  He does that little chuckle of his and goes, “As a special gift to Kay, I’ll tell you that a number of people still live here. In fact, my family used to live here until a couple of years ago. Most of the people left are too old to move, too stubborn to move or both. Nobody actually works here any more except maybe Albert Ingram. He’s a bit hard of hearing these days but he’s still got a little store. Pretty much only sells milk, matches and…”

  “Who?” I go because I can’t help myself.

  “Albert Ingram. You heard of him?”

  This could be important. I swallow my pride.

  I say, “Is he Rosie’s father?”

  “Rosie who?”

  I go, “Rosie Ingram.” I say the who do you think? part in my head.

  He shrugs. “Could be. I don’t know. He’s, like, eighty or something. His kids would all be grown by now…Who’s this Rosie anyway?”

  Good question. I try to work it out in my head. Rosie could be Albert’s daughter, in which case she actually lived here. But if Albert’s alive, why did Grandpa adopt her? Maybe Albert’s her uncle…

  Levi says, “Hellooo? Who’s Rosie?”

  I shake my head. “No one. Just saw her name in something I was doing.”

  He goes, “What are you doing anyway?”

  This is getting out of hand again. It’s almost civilized.

  I give him my standard answer. Research on the school. Blahblah-blah. I throw the university thing in too, just to make him feel bad.

  “You go to university?” he says. “Which one?”

  “Harvard,” I say. May as well really stick it to him.

  “Oh, so you’re a rich kid” He seems to find that funny.

  I just squint at him like it’s none of his business and let him make his own conclusions.

  He smirks. “I figured as much. Well, I guess you come by it honestly, then.”

  I pick at my ear with my baby finger and look out the window. I think he can gather from that just exactly how much I value his opinion.

  He pretends not to notice. He goes, “I’m at Dalhousie. Couldn’t afford to go farther than that, but it’s okay. I’m doing a combined major in sociology and marine sciences…”

  Oh crap. How was I supposed to know a big dolt like him could get into university? He’s going to figure out I’m lying. I hate it when that happens.

  He says, “I’m sort of interested in the impact of these dying communities myself. I guess that’s why Kay asked me to take you. She thought we’d have something in common.”

  We both go, “Ha!” at exactly the same time. He laughs. I don’t.

  He’s trying to be all pleasant again. He says, “What are you majoring in?”

  I say, “I’d prefer not to discuss it, if you don’t mind.”

  He sort of sings this little la-di-da thing under his breath. I stare straight out the window and hope that this is almost over.

  23

  Monday, 11 a.m.

  You, You and Mimi

  Today Mimi takes a good, long “Look at the Male Body.” Sure to be a hit with her eighty-seven percent female audience.

  The houses stop. The road gets smaller. We go around a corner and suddenly there, spread out in the distance, is this beautiful beach. It takes me by surprise. I say, “Wow” before I can help myself.

  I’ve seen tons of beaches. I’ve been to the Riviera, to Hawaii, to most of the islands in the Caribbean. This is as good as any of them.

  We’re up high on a hill looking out at the ocean. The water is bright turquoise except where it splashes up against these giant boulders. They’re kind of square and jagged as if they’re made out of big, grey Lego pieces. The sand is really white. The beach seems to go on and on.

  For some reason it makes me feel like crying.

  Levi grabs the lunch bag and the towels. “C’mon,” he says. “I have to take you swimming. I promised Kay that I’d immerse the Evil Screeching Troll into the magical waters of Port Minton Bay.”

  I do my best to ignore him. I get out of the van. The smell hits me. It’s not that dead-fish-seaweed-fart smell you sometimes get from the ocean. It’s the smell they must be thinking of when they name men’s aftershave “Seaspray.” It’s fresh and, I don’t know, sort of healthy or something.

  Levi’s already partway down the hill. He’s waving at me and going, “C’mon!”

  I can barely hear him over the wind. I take one last look at the view and follow him.

  We cross a stream on this little boardwalk. Levi points to the right. He goes, “Those bogs over there are full of cranberries. People still come out here and pick them. They’re not supposed to, now that this is a government park, but there’s not much Dad can do about it.”

  I go, “Dad? Your dad? What? He the boss of everyone around here or something?”

  Levi laughs. “Guess that sounded kind of dumb, didn’t it? Dad’s the park warden. I pretty much grew up here. It’s one of the reasons I like it around here so much.”

  “Seriously?” I say. “You like living here?”

  He pulls his face back and looks at me. I think he’s trying to figure out if I’m joking or not.

  “Seriously,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says. “It suits me. I like being outside. I like to kayak and fish trout. My brother and me are building a little camp up on the river—so I’m not bored…for now anyway. I’d probably go nuts if I stayed here forever. It’s too small. There are times I think I’m going to lose it if I hear Alec Evans make the same bad joke or hear Krystal complain about her hair again.”

  There’s this awkward pause when he says “Krystal” and we both sort of look away, then he just goes, “Yeah, whatever,” and heads down the path. He grabs the back of his T-shirt and pulls it off over his head.

  “Some hot,” he says.

  Not that hot, I think.

  He’s got those shoulders Debbie was talking about. I try not to look.

  We get to the beach and I want to just stand there and gawk at it, but Levi says, “No. Don’t stop here. It’s better farther along. Kay wants you to see the seals.”

  He pulls his sneakers off with his toes and leaves them on the beach. I do the same thing. The sand’s so soft my foot twists with each step. It makes me walk with this huge wiggle, like I’m some cartoon hottie or something. I think about Debbie making that crack about my va-va-va-voom figure. I must look like I actually believe it.

  We have to climb over this big boulder to get to the next part of the beach. Levi scrambles up like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I grab onto a little notch and get one leg halfway up but then just keep sliding back down. I feel like the fat kid in gym class who can’t get onto the second rung of the monkey bars.

  Levi’s standing on a ledge. He hunches down and sticks his hand out.

  “Here,” he says.

  He gives me one good yank and I’m up on the rock and standing way too close to him. I can’t move or I’ll fall back down. I can smell his aftershave or his deodorant or whatever. I go, “Um…”

  He goes, “Sorry,” and steps back.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been that close to someone else’s skin before. At least not like that.

  We climb to the top of the boulder. There are these little pools where water must have splashed up. The boulder is kind of speckly grey and silver. The water’s bright blue with rusty orange stuff around the sides. It makes me want to try painting again.

  Levi says, “On windy days, the waves come up this high. They can pull you out to sea in a second. Lots of people have died that way.”

  I go, “Gee, thanks for taking me here.
”

  “Don’t worry. I’d save you.” He winks. “Maybe.”

  I think about saying something like I can take care of myself, but that’s just asking for it. He saw me trying to climb up that boulder.

  He laughs. “We’re okay. It’s pretty calm today.” He points, “Hey, look! Seals!”

  I look. I see water. Rocks. Water splashing against rocks. And that’s about all.

  I say, “Where?”

  “Over by those islands. See?”

  I squint. I shake my head. It’s a big ocean.

  “Those black things. In the water. There! Can’t you see them?”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  He gets behind me. He crouches down so his chin’s leaning on my shoulder. I’m completely frozen. I feel like a mannequin in the plus-size department. He changes the angle of my body, then takes my right hand in his and points again.

  He moves my finger around and goes, “One, two, three, four—do you see them now?”

  “Yeah,” I say. They look like scuba divers coming up for air. At another time, I might be interested, but right now all I can think about is my heart and Levi and my weird thumbnails that he’s no doubt noticed and the scratch of his whiskers on my shoulder.

  I say, “Thank you,” then wiggle my hand out of his and step away.

  We’re both embarrassed now.

  He says, “Okay, well, yeah, good. You saw your seals.” He stands there nodding, with his hands on his hips.

  I don’t know what to do with my eyes.

  After a while, he sort of mumbles, “O-kay…” then he turns and scrambles down the other side of the boulder. He jumps the last few feet onto the sand and holds his hand up to help me too.

  I don’t take it. I jump and pretend it doesn’t hurt at all.

  “The best swimming place is at the end of this beach,” he says. “You get a warm current there.”

  I nod and keep walking. Neither of us says anything. Is this as awkward for him as it is for me?

  These tiny sandpipers scurry along the water’s edge on their little stick legs. Even in my stupor, I can see how cute they are. I can’t believe Disney hasn’t done an animated feature about sandpipers yet. I should suggest that to Mom. She knows the people at Disney.