<\/p>\n
HOOKY<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The secretary called me to the front office on the intercom during Free Draw, told me to bring my things. Ms. Thomas said I could choose a friend to walk me there. I looked at Ben, who sat at a different table\u2014our seats were assigned\u2014but he was too absorbed to meet my gaze. He was at work on a portrait of a snake licking a mushroom with crosshatching in the shadows. Ben was by far the best artist in the fourth grade and perhaps the best in the whole elementary school. A few girls I didn\u2019t feel either way about raised their hands. I ignored them and told Ms. Thomas, \u201cNo thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n In the hallway, I got to thinking maybe Mom had died. Heart attack, or offed herself by swallowing pills and taping a plastic bag over her head. I was an orphan now, on my way to the orphanage, where the meals would be bland, but at least they\u2019d be served on time\u2014<\/p>\n <\/p>\n But when I got to the office, there she stood waiting for me. She said I had a dentist appointment.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWhy do I need my backpack?\u201d I asked. \u201cCan\u2019t I come back after?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThey might need to pull that tooth,\u201d she said. \u201cYou won\u2019t feel so good.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWhat tooth?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The secretary watched us.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYou know what tooth,\u201d she said, but I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n It was late October. The trees were mostly bare. It should have been cold, but we were having a last-ditch heatwave. The blue sky was too bright to look at, so I closed my eyes, held her hand, and pretended I was blind as we walked to the truck.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s such a perfect day,\u201d she said. \u201cLet\u2019s go fishing.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cAfter the dentist?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She squeezed my fingers. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to go to the dentist, Bug. I just couldn\u2019t wait till three to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u25ca<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n SCUP<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n We stopped at Dick\u2019s Tackle for bait. She got a quick lesson from Dick on how to tie the hook and sinker while I played ball with his oily border collie in the parking lot. When she understood the basics, we got back in the truck and drove past the hospital and along the causeway to Eastville, where we parked and walked to the end of the jetty that stretched into the harbor. We only had one rod, a kid\u2019s rod I\u2019d won in a school raffle, so we took turns casting and helping each other unhook the scup we reeled in. By the time school let out, we had four of them dead or faintly gasping in a drywall bucket, each the size of an adult\u2019s foot. \u201cThat should be enough for dinner,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Mom peered into the bucket. \u201cI hope I remember how to fillet,\u201d she said. Though we lived on an island, we didn\u2019t eat much seafood.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019ll come back to you,\u201d I said. \u201cIt\u2019s like riding a bike, I bet.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n We sat beside each other on the jetty with the bucket between us and shared a bag of sunflower seeds while the cold water lapped at the rocks. There was a doe in the beach grass on shore, twitching her ears in our direction. I\u2019d never seen a deer at the beach before, but Mom said they liked to swim. They\u2019d swum across the sound from off island once, she said. Three miles. I thought she was teasing. \u201cHow\u2019d you think they got here?\u201d she said. \u201cOn the ferry?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I\u2019d never thought about how anybody got to the island. It felt like everybody and everything that was here had always been here, though I knew that wasn\u2019t right. Mom had escaped here from her foster home in Hartford, Connecticut the summer before she was supposed to begin her last year of high school. She\u2019d camped in the state forest at first, she\u2019d told me, subsisting on beach plums, huckleberries, and buckwheat gruel.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I believed that story, but deer swimming<\/em>? Off island looked far away. And the doe looked so delicate, her long limbs tapering into her delicate black hooves. When I stood to get a better look at her, she bolted into the thicket of rose hips between the parking lot and the beach.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u25ca<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n RECESS<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I was crouched behind a holly bush, pretending to be an orphan again, when Ms. Thomas sat on the bench and asked if everything was okay at home.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI had to get three fillings yesterday,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cPoor you!\u201d she said. \u201cIs your mouth sore?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Was it a trick question? I was a diligent brusher. I\u2019d never had a cavity. I shook my head.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYour mom works at the nursery, right?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI think she helped me with my window boxes last spring. And after school, before she gets off work, it\u2019s just you at home?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I picked my lip. The boys were playing two-hand touch in the dirt field where, try as he might, Gary the hippie groundskeeper couldn\u2019t keep the grass alive, even if he reseeded over summer break. Ben threw the ball with a high arc and a perfect spiral to Ryan, who should have caught it, but the ball slipped through his hands. \u201cButterfingers!\u201d Ben yelled. Ryan flipped him off, and Ms. Thomas pretended not to see.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHey, I\u2019m talking to you,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cAbout what exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She smiled. \u201cThere\u2019s nothing wrong with being home alone at your age,\u201d she said. \u201cBut if you ever want to stay after with me, you\u2019d be welcome. It could be fun. Maybe you could help me with Mr. Rogers. You\u2019re so good with him. I could show you how I change his shavings.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Mr. Rogers was a ball python, our only class pet. The other girls were afraid of him, but not me. I looked forward to feeding him a squirming mouse, dropping it into his terrarium by the tail, watching his jaw unhinge wide, wider, to swallow the vermin whole. I was an animal lover but only some species. Extra time with the snake was tempting, sure, but why would I stay after with Ms. Thomas when I could do whatever I wanted at my house? I could make a butter and jelly sandwich, climb a tree and spy on the neighbors. I could dress the cat up in Mom\u2019s best underwear and force-feed him mayonnaise, or ride my Schwinn up and down Norris Ave, past Ben\u2019s house. I\u2019d made my lip bleed. Ms. Thomas touched my wrist so I\u2019d leave it alone.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re so quiet,\u201d she said, \u201cbut I can\u2019t tell if you\u2019re lonely.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u25ca<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n PARTY<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Friday night there was a full moon and an impromptu drumming circle on the north shore because the weather was still so warm. Before we left, I made Mom promise we\u2019d come back that night. Parties often turned into sleepovers for us, when she drank too much to drive. This was fine when we were at someone\u2019s house\u2014it usually meant watching cable before bed and somebody cooking us eggs in the morning\u2014but I didn\u2019t want to sleep at the beach. \u201cHome by ten,\u201d she said, \u201cI promise.\u201d Then she packed the wool blankets in the back of the truck.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n It was dusk when we arrived. The usual spread: fire, chanting, hot dogs, marijuana smell. Ben\u2019s dad, Richard Herman, shucked oysters at a folding table with Duke, all wet, at his feet. Little kids danced with other little kids. Mom danced with everybody. I spotted Ben on the other side of the fire, digging a giant hole with a boy I didn\u2019t recognize. I sat by myself near Richard\u2019s table and buried my shins in the sand.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben kept whipping his head around to get his shaggy hair out of his face as he dug, and one time he made eye contact with me through the smoke and sparks. When I waved, he made a face. His cheeks and mouth went slack, and he sort of slow-rolled his eyes up into his head. I couldn\u2019t tell if he was making fun of me or trying to tell me something important, like maybe he wished the two of us could go somewhere else together.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I rubbed sand into my legs until it burned, jumped up, ate a hot dog, and took a sip of beer from a can I found balanced on a rock. Nobody\u2019d thought to bring soda for the kids. I was afraid to dance, so when Mom beckoned with her arms outstretched, I turned and made my way to Richard. He\u2019d finished shucking, but there were still a few oysters fanned on the table. \u201cHungry?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I didn\u2019t like oysters, but I nodded. He squeezed lemon on one and handed it to me. I tried to swallow it whole like you\u2019re supposed to, but it felt like an enormous glob of snot in my mouth. My throat closed up. I spat everything out in the sand. \u201cI like them better in the oven,\u201d I said. \u201cWith cheese and breadcrumbs.\u201d I\u2019d had this dish at last year\u2019s holiday party for nursery staff and their plus-ones.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Richard tried not to laugh. \u201cI like them better that way myself,\u201d he said. His words came out slowly, as if he had to clear a space around each of them. I thought maybe he\u2019d been drinking, but he didn\u2019t seem very animated.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cAnd you don\u2019t like dancing, do you?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cNot really.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHow come?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n He shrugged. He didn\u2019t seem to like talking very much either. Richard was challenging to talk to in a way that made me curious. Like how Ms. Thomas felt about me, I guess.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m in Ben\u2019s class at school,\u201d I said, \u201cbut we don\u2019t sit at the same table.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Lorna, Ben\u2019s mom, was dancing with a toddler with a skeptical look on his face. Richard wouldn\u2019t look at his wife. He massaged the ruff of Duke\u2019s neck with his boot, and the dog\u2019s otter-like tail thumped the sand. I bent and stroked Duke\u2019s side. His thick fur was damp, and he smelled like low tide, but his body was warm and consoling.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cBen says you two are the best at drawing,\u201d Richard said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben talked about me at home? \u201cHe\u2019s way better than I am,\u201d I said. \u201cIt\u2019s just, most people don\u2019t even try. Or they just do the same thing over and over.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Richard spread his fingers on the table. \u201cBen\u2019s talented,\u201d he said. \u201cLight hands. Not like these fuckers. Sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t the word that scared me. It was the hands. Not the black crescents beneath the nails or the scabs on the thick knuckles, but the way they seemed separate from the rest of him, like two wild animals, tensed and ready to spring. It was the hands and the intensity with which he stared at them. I couldn\u2019t help but stare at them too until I noticed Mom moving toward us, weaving her way through the crowd. \u201cDance with me, Bug!\u201d she screamed.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I thanked Richard for the oyster and ran to the water, where I rinsed the fur off my fingers and got busy writing names in the sand with a piece of driftwood. Ben. Richard. Lorna. Duke. <\/em>My own name and my mother\u2019s. \u201cFuckers,\u201d I whispered, over and over again.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben found me down there a while later, when the moon was up and the tide had risen to erase what I\u2019d written. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d he asked. \u201cHiding?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cSkipping rocks.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cLemme see.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n A loon swam past. I threw a rock at it, and the bird dove under. Ben threw one too. \u201cI think I got him,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I took a step closer and considered touching his hand, but he said, \u201cYour mom\u2019s pretty hammered. She bit my dad\u2019s ear when he wouldn\u2019t dance with her, made him bleed.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n “She\u2019s just playing around.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cMaybe. He\u2019s not mad, and my mom thought it was funny, but he wants to go home now, and he told me to ask if you want to come. He said you can stay with us tonight if you behave yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Behave myself how?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The drumming was over, and most people had left. Mom was dancing on a rock with Lorna now. Richard waved to me and Ben. He said something, but the wind carried his voice in the wrong direction. Lorna\u2019s silhouette and Mom\u2019s were slender, but Mom was the inspired dancer. Lorna put her hands on Mom\u2019s hips and swished her long hair from side to side. Mom arched her spine, dropped her head back, and reached her fingers toward the sky. Duke was on his hind legs, pawing at them. They were bothering him. These crazy women. These fuckers. He wanted to bark at them, wanted to tell them to knock it off, to sober up, but he was too polite.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Of course I wanted to go with Ben, but the thought of it\u2014Richard\u2019s hands squeezing the steering wheel, Ben and me sleeping or not sleeping under the same roof\u2014also terrified me. If I wasn\u2019t safer in Mom\u2019s care, I at least knew what was coming. Or I never knew what was coming, but nothing she did surprised me. My lip was bleeding again. The blood tasted like the ocean. \u201cI\u2019ll stay here,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben watched our moms. \u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m having fun.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d he said, \u201cthey\u2019re having fun.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u25ca<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n SWIMMERS<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n We made a bed in the dunes. One blanket underneath, two on top. Mom\u2019s breath was unpleasant, but her body next to mine calmed me. She fell asleep quickly, though she shivered for a long time. I pressed myself to her. I felt jittery, wide awake.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Across the sound, I saw the shape of the mainland, black against the sky. The port cities glowed orange\u2014New Bedford, Fall River, Providence. I didn\u2019t know which was which. Raccoons crept down the path in a line and nosed through the remains of the party. The moon was so powerful I could make out the gray and black rings on their bushy tails. I watched a particularly fat one sit on its hind legs to nibble a hot dog bun.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Did it count as sleeping at the beach if you never fell asleep?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n As the horizon faded from gray to pink, two deer tiptoed past us to the water\u2019s edge, touched their muzzles to the sea, and studied each other before wading in. I shook Mom awake and pointed, and we watched them swim toward the sandbar, side by side, their white tails bobbing behind them. She pulled me tight against her and whispered, \u201cI told you, Bug.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Alida Dean HOOKY The secretary called me to the front office on the intercom during Free Draw, told me to bring my things. Ms. Thomas said I could choose a friend to walk me there. I looked at Ben, who sat at a different table\u2014our seats were assigned\u2014but he was too absorbed to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":9609,"template":"","categories":[9,48,49],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9608","article","type-article","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aquifer","category-fiction","category-literary-features"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n