No One's Watching

by Sandy Green

  Another swan glided into view. He arched his neck and paddled straight toward us. Maybe he’d come ashore so I could climb on his back and he could take me away. Instead, he raised his head and trumpeted. It was more like the skirling of bagpipes than a bugle. He circled upstream again and the current swept him around. Swimming on a diagonal toward the opposite bank, he disappeared under some tree limbs.

  “He’s a noisy guy.” Blake laughed.

  “Why is he swimming like that?” I shook my head. “It’s as if he doesn’t know where he’s going.”

  Ms. Jen’s arm floated toward the water. “He’s swanning, paddling around aimlessly.”

  “The swan’s swanning. Okay.” I crossed my arms and nodded my head.

  Ms. Jen slung her tote bag across her shoulder. “I feel like that sometimes. Do you? I’m working hard and not going anywhere.”

  “Do I feel like I’m swanning? I guess.” My dream of being a ballet dancer swam away with the swan. I would have to concentrate and work harder.

  Ms. Jen took a picture of Blake and me on the wall with our heads tilted together. She gave Blake the camera, and he took a picture of her by pots of red flowers around the pool.

  Nicki came over and peered at the remaining swans. “Sweet.” She wiggled onto the coarse rocks and crossed her legs. “Actually, they remind me of Amy and Shelly.”

  “Why?” I sat on the wall too.

  Nicki pinched up her mouth. “Swans are so vain. They’re nasty birds.”

  “I think they’re beautiful.”

  “Not after one chases you and nips you on your—”

  “When are you guys going to get changed?” Dira looked like a two-legged bug with her enormous sunglasses. She dropped her beach bag and joined Ms. Jen, striking crazy poses while Blake clicked pictures of them.

  “Nicki, did you know yesterday when we came back from Sweet Hearth’s, Candace and I couldn’t get in the kitchen door?”

  She frowned. “How did you get in?”

  “We sneaked into the garage and up through the lobby.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry. We took a chance and came in the front door. The security guy wasn’t even there.”

  He was probably in the kitchen removing the brick.

  Nicki hopped off the wall, snatching her tote bag as Blake walked up to me. “You guys are coming with us, aren’t you?”

  I dragged my feet as we trailed after Nicki. Who moved the brick if it wasn’t the security guy? Shelly?

  Mrs. Ricardo fluttered around her husband, settling him in a chair in the cabana and dabbing his face. She propped rolled towels on either side of his chair.

  Blake peered at me. “Cheer up. Your grandmother will be fine. It’s time to have fun. Besides, the weather’s great.” He squinted at the brilliant, yellow sun in a flawless blue sky, promising a perfect day.

  I wasn’t inhabiting a perfect day. While Mrs. Ricardo fussed with her husband, Mr. Jarenko swept leaves with his hand from a chair on the opposite side of the cabana near the stone wall and stretched out on his towel. He fitted a white cotton hat with a small brim on his head and took a hardcover book from a plastic grocery bag.

  Mom’s negative comment about Irish dance had wormed its way into my brain. It joined all the other remarks she’d ever made about it. What did she have against Irish dance? She was okay when I played an Irish song. Kind of squirmy, but still okay.

  What if I never got a ballet solo at camp? I had less than two weeks to work on changing Mrs. Ricardo’s mind. My eyes shifted from Mr. Jarenko to Mrs. Ricardo and her puny — sickly — husband. How far was I willing to go to get a solo? Blackmail?

  Chapter Forty-One

  Heaviness lodged in my shoulders, and I shivered despite the heat. What was I becoming? A blackmailer? Not going there. No way.

  After a boxed lunch eaten in the shady breeze on the flagstone patio, Blake and I stretched drowsily on lounge chairs, baking in the sun. Megan, Lindy, and the rest of the Irish munchkins stayed to themselves by the diving area. Tiffany accentuated her nose by covering it in white zinc oxide. She’d burrowed under a hat and towels. Why did she bother coming? Students who hadn’t wanted to spend the day at the park stayed with the rest of the teachers back in the dorm.

  Blake snored under his Chester Park University baseball cap, his jaw line visible beneath the white bill. Lindy had loaned me an Irish dance magazine, and I waited for him to wake up so I could share the pictures of the competitions with him. Trophies big enough you could swim in them, glittering costumes and dancers caught in gravity defying leaps. A girl in a stiff dress with swirling designs commanded the camera. Curls cascaded from the crown of her head. The title of the story was “National Irish Dance Champions to Compete in Dublin, Ireland.” What would he think of all that?

  Danilo offered a bag of chips to Candace as he sat on the end of her lounge chair. Several dancers played water polo volleyball. Shelly perched on Jupiter’s shoulders as she whacked at the ball. One of the other boy dancers walked past us, his long, sopping swim trunks wadded around his legs. He dove into the pool, sending a spray of water over us.

  Dira shifted her sunglasses down her nose. “He’s kind of cute. I wonder how old he is.”

  “I dated him last year.” Nicki opened her magazine and flipped through the pages.

  “What?” Dira removed her sunglasses and sat up.

  “Yeah. He’s nothing special.” Nicki continued to course through the magazine.

  Dira grabbed Nicki’s magazine and slapped her with it. “You’re such a liar.” She stood and threw her sunglasses and Nicki’s magazine on her chair. “I’m going in the water. I’m hot.”

  “I’m the one who’s hot.” Nicki snapped the legs of her bathing suit and jumped in before Dira had a chance.

  Candace and I raised eyebrows at each other over Blake. We shook our heads and burst out laughing.

  Blake woke and stretched. “Have you been in the water yet?”

  I sat up. “I’m working on it.”

  He tossed off his cap and stood. “Need any help?”

  I shook my head.

  “Too bad.” He scooped me up, took two long strides and heaved us both in the pool. I was still in his arms as the cool water surged over us, bubbles rushing to the surface. He pushed us out of the water and shook his head — doggy-style — while I laughed and shrieked as water showered me. He took an exaggerated gulp of air, so I did too, before going back under water.

  Then it happened. The wonderful thing I had daydreamed about since last summer. I never once figured it would be underwater.

  We sank to the bottom of the pool. He gently pulled my face close to him, and my lips dissolved into his. Blake kissed me. Was the kiss wet? Duh. We were in the pool. Did it take my breath away? I was already holding my breath, and I forgot to breathe, which was a good thing since we were still underwater.

  It was everything I thought it would be and more. BLAKE KISSED ME. When we surfaced, Nicki and Dira perched on the side. Nicki’s mouth was a thin line, but Dira’s face lit up.

  “How’s the water?” Dira leaned into the pool.

  Shelly towered over us on Jupiter’s shoulders. “Practicing your underwater breathing?” She tossed Jupiter’s double caps to the side of the pool, leaned over his head and kissed him, tumbling into the water and dragging Jupiter with her.

  Blake and I rode the tidal wave to the shallow side of the pool, where we sat on wide cement steps. We held hands underwater and leaned against the chrome handrail. I was in water heaven.

  Amy was busy lining up the water noodles beneath herself in a makeshift raft and falling through. Finally, she gave up and let them float away. I reached for the noodles bobbing close to me.

  A volleyball landed in front of Blake, shooting him in the face with water. “Come on, man, we’re getting up a game,” Jupiter called.

  I gathered several tubes. “Go on. I’m going to float away with my troubles.”

  “From your troubles.” He leaned ov
er and kissed me again.

  My first air kiss! Ahh. And I didn’t have to worry about drowning.

  “Everything’s going to work out.” He pushed off toward the center of the pool. Were we boyfriend and girlfriend?

  After I made a nest of noodles, I climbed into the middle and lay back. I ran my fingers on the rough edge of the pool, bobbing along the side. The water rimmed my face, blocking all the noise. I closed my eyes against the sunlight.

  As I lifted my arm into the air, the breeze chilled my skin. I dropped it back in the water, I couldn’t tell the difference between the water and my body. The kiss was like that. All my muscles relaxed, including my brain. Instead of butting up against the world, I was melting into the universe.

  Blake was right. Everything would work out. Somehow. Grandma, the ballet solo, Shelly, even Irish dance — I didn’t want to give that up if I could help it, no matter what Mom’s opinion was. It was too much fun. I inhaled. The air had a metallic scent.

  I didn’t know how long I drifted along, tethered to the side of the pool by my fingertips. My ears lay underwater. The water rocked away my anxieties while a spray of water tickled my face. I must have drifted nearer to the volleyball game.

  The sprinkling became a splatter, pinging me. When I opened my eyes, the computer-screen blue sky had dimmed to gray. Clouds tightened in swirls, and rain whacked my forehead. Rain? What happened to the flawless day?

  I raised my head in time for the screams to penetrate my ears. Everyone was dashing up the stairs to the stone house. Lightning scribbled the sky like a crazy fluorescent pen. My arms and legs hardened to lead, and I couldn’t move. I was alone in a pool in a lightning storm.

  My deadliest fear.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Blake called to me as he sprinted from our chairs, backpacks beating his shoulders. He slipped as I reached for him. Lightning ripped the sky. I sank. Blake yanked me out of the water, and I flew to my feet, landing in first position on the pool deck. We sprinted up the steps past Mrs. Ricardo, gingerly leading her husband out of his chair under the cabana. Blake pushed me to safety in the stone house and threw off the backpacks.

  “Help me get that man up the steps.” Blake tugged at Danilo, who had pulled Candace inside the building.

  I stood by the door under the small canopy as Blake and Danilo dashed outside again. When they reached the cabana, they grasped their hands and wrists together, forming a fourhanded seat, like we did in relay races in school. Mrs. Ricardo helped her husband sit on the seat they’d made. She steadied him as they climbed the steps. Rain lashed at them, and thunder cracked in the distance.

  Candace yanked me back inside.

  “Get away from the windows,” Mrs. Sykes called as we pressed against the glass to watch their progress. She fretted and paced, shooing dancers into the middle of the room.

  “They’re back,” Jupiter called.

  Mrs. Sykes hurried to the door and opened it for them. A torrent of rain poured into the room.

  “Take him to a chair.” Mrs. Ricardo gestured to a seating area. “I have to go back out. My husband’s medicine is in my bag.”

  After Blake and Danilo carefully sat the man down, Blake rushed for the door. “I’ll get it.”

  “No. Stay here.” Mrs. Ricardo reached for Blake, but he was already out the door.

  I clutched Candace’s arm. Lightning stabbed at the sky, followed by the pounding of thunder.

  “The lightning is close.” Amy shuddered and rubbed her arms. “I can tell. The hair on my arm is standing up.” She pressed her nose against the glass. “Blake’s not going to make it.”

  I pulled her away. “Stop talking.”

  The rain dropped like the closing of a gray curtain on some awful stage. It was impossible to see Blake. Was he having trouble finding Mrs. Ricardo’s bag in the cabana?

  Amy went back to the window. “It’s not safe under that tent thing. It’s made of metal poles. It’s like standing under a bunch of lightning rods. Only a dummy would do that.”

  “Blake’s stupid.” Shelly shook her head.

  My head was about to pop off. “Shut up. Will you two just shut up?” I slapped my wet feet on the stone floor and stood behind Candace, watching over her head.

  “Where is he?” Candace strained to see out the window.

  Mrs. Sykes stood at the open door yelling Blake’s name. I screamed to him in my head and clutched my hands.

  Lightning sparked, like the flash of a thousand cameras. Suddenly, the lights in the room popped and went out. Everyone gasped. The dark room only made the jagged strikes brighter.

  Fire and smoke seared the trunk of a pine near the cabana. It cracked and toppled onto the tent-like roof. The striped fabric collapsed and pulled the support poles out of the ground and onto itself.

  “A tree’s been hit,” Jupiter called. “We can’t leave him out there.” He motioned to Ryan and Danilo. “Let’s go.”

  I burst out of the building before they had a chance.

  “Come back here,” Mrs. Sykes called.

  Sparks peppered the space above the cabana and singed its tent covering. “Blake, Blake,” I called. The rain poured down the steps like a waterfall. I skidded to the deflated cabana desperate to figure out which lump was Blake. As I yanked up the heavy edge of the canvas, Blake’s hand lay lifelessly on the pavement. “Help me get him out.”

  Jupiter pulled back the thick canvas like a sheet. Blake sprawled on his side, moaning.

  I grasped his hand. “We’ll help you.”

  Mrs. Sykes appeared next to us. “Be careful moving him.”

  Wind whipped across the pool deck, stripping towels off chairs and upturning them. I wiped my face and shielded Blake from the stinging rain. Jupiter moved around me and lifted Blake under his arms, while Ryan and Danilo each took one of Blake’s legs. They carried his limp body to the steps. Lightning blinded me, and I crumpled to my feet. Here I was in the middle of a thunderstorm, my greatest fear, and I couldn’t stand to run to safety. I crouched, hiding my face.

  “Let’s go,” Mrs. Sykes demanded, cowering next to me.

  My body shrunk into a tiny seed as I shook, clinging to the pavement. Thunder boomed and crashed around me. The top of another tree cracked and smashed into a line of umbrellas. Mrs. Sykes pulled on my shoulder. “It’s dangerous out here. Come on. We’re going to be killed.”

  Killed? But I had my first kiss with Blake not an hour ago. I couldn’t die now. Besides, what about my ballet career? Plus I hadn’t finished with Irish dance yet. Or Blake.

  Mrs. Sykes yanked me to my feet and my legs unfolded. “Pull yourself together.”

  Thunder roared around me, but my inner voice was louder. This wasn’t the last act for me. There were things I had to do. Energy surged into my body. “I’m okay.”

  We clutched each other and bolted up the steps.

  Candace flung open the door for us. “We need to call nine-one-one. Blake needs an ambulance.”

  Mrs. Sykes left me by Candace while she checked her cell phone from her pocket. She rushed to Mrs. Ricardo. “My phone won’t turn on. Where’s yours?”

  “Outside in my bag. The one Blake went to get.” Mrs. Ricardo patted Blake’s face with a towel. A cut scored his forehead.

  Mrs. Sykes searched the room as the lightning flashed like a strobe light. “Where’s the park ranger?”

  “Somewhere by the river. He told me he feeds the swans everyday at two o’clock.”

  “Ridiculous.” Mrs. Sykes cut through the clumps of dancers about the room. “Mr. Jarenko. Ms. Jen. Has anyone seen them? We need a cell phone.”

  Blake moaned and reached for his leg. I knelt by him and clutched his hand to my throat, while the air continued to rumble and light exploded around the building. My stare shifted from Blake’s pale face, his hair plastered on his forehead, to Shelly’s.

  “He needs to go to the hospital. We have to call an ambulance.” My voice shook. “We need a phone.”

  S
helly lifted her head to the windows at the other side of the lobby and backed deeper into the shadows.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Blake moaned as he squinted at me.

  “You’re going to be okay.” I had no idea what I was saying, but my positive tone of voice surprised even me. I bit my lip to keep from blubbering all over him.

  When he squeezed my hand and groaned, a lump lodged in my throat.

  Mr. Jarenko and Ms. Jen stumbled in the room from an entrance on the parking lot side of the building.

  “Is everyone okay?” Ms. Jen wrung her hands as she ran up to Mrs. Ricardo. “I’ve never seen such an awful storm.” She wiped her brow.

  Mrs. Ricardo drew herself to her feet. “We need a cell phone. One of our dancers is injured.”

  Mr. Jarenko patted his pockets and shook his head. “Sorry.” He pointed outside. “Maybe I can find someone in the parking lot?”

  “Just a minute, Mr. Jarenko.” Ms. Jen fumbled with the zipper on her camera case. “My bag is waterproof.” She handed her cell phone to Mrs. Sykes. “Here.”

  “Wonderful.” Mrs. Sykes stabbed her finger on the number pad and held it to her ear.

  Electricity sizzled in the air, and it wasn’t only between Blake and me. Mr. Jarenko joined Mrs. Ricardo. My face warmed as I avoided either of them.

  He squeezed his hat, and water dribbled on the floor. “Darling, it was terrible. I went for a health walk and a dreadful storm came upon me so suddenly. I found Ms. Jen who had gotten lost taking pictures of the swans.”

  Mrs. Sykes rushed back to us. “An ambulance will be here in a few minutes. How are you doing?”

  Blake nodded and licked his lips.

  I leaned over him. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Yeah,” he rasped and reached his free hand to rub his head.

  Mrs. Sykes held up her hand to block me. “We can’t give him anything until the ambulance comes, in case of internal injury.”

  Blake blanched. Way to go, Mrs. Sykes.