Hope & a Canoe

by Michele M. Reynolds

Tember returned to her grandparents’ Cougar RV just before lunch and prepared her grandmother’s lunch. She looked at the week’s lunch schedule, which was created by her grandparents a week in advance. Today’s meal was a roast beef sandwich.

  Just as she finished the sandwich and poured iced tea into a chilled glass, a voice called from the bedroom, “Jenny, is that you?”

  What Tember wanted to say was, “No, it’s a burglar making you a sandwich before I rob you.” Instead, Tember answered, “Yes, Grandmother.” Her grandparents refused to call her by the name her parents gave her and instead called her Jenny.

  “Roast beef today! Matt’s still in the next county at some big poker tournament. Bring it back to me. I’m doing something important,” her grandmother called.

  Tember rolled her eyes. Her grandfather, Matt, had the knack of claiming that he had a lead on a good bet or a sure-thing poker tournament. Her grandmother, Betty, always feigned to be doing something important. Betty’s idea of something important was watching television or smoking a cigarette.

  Tember brought the plate and drink to the back of the RV. The bedroom was still dark except for the light cast by a small television fitted into the wall at the end of the bed. Betty was propped up against a plethora of pillows with a cigarette in her hand. She wore a short nightgown patterned with male exotic dancers on the front. They were wearing only Speedos and bow ties.

  Tember held out the plate and drink.

  “Put it there.” Betty looked beyond Tember at the screen and pointed at the bedside table. Tember put down the meal and glanced at the screen. Two families battled for $20,000 on a game show.

  “Okay, if that’s all, I’m going to go,” Tember said.

  “Oh, I got the meds, but where’s my change? I already have a line on who I can sell them to. I was talking to some kid driving one of those golf cart things,” Betty said as she flicked ashes into a nearby glass.

  Tember stared at the glass and sighed, knowing she would have to clean that glass later. “I thought you said you weren’t going to sell them anymore?”

  “No, I said I wasn’t going to have you sell them no more. You. I’m selling them,” she said as spit formed and was projected from her mouth onto her own bare legs. Tember did her best to train her eyes away from her grandmother’s legs, full of varicose veins and wrinkles.

  “Oh, okay if that’s all,” Tember said as she turned to leave.

  “Oh and I don’t need dinner tomorrow. I’m going into town, well, a few towns away, and then a few friends and I are going to hang out for a while,” Betty said.

  “You mean you’ll be gone all day tomorrow?” Tember asked.

  “Yes,” Betty said as she impatiently stared at the screen.

  “Tomorrow, July third?” Tember asked.

  “If that’s what the date is, yes. You’re not my keeper. Oh and I might be gone July fourth come to think of it. I’ll message you. They have Wi-Fi here, right?”

  Tember nodded. Then she turned and walked out of the room. Betty would be away tomorrow for Tember’s birthday, and her grandmother obviously didn’t even realize it.

  “Oh wait, Jenny,” Betty called from the bedroom.

  Tember hurried back and said, “I knew you wouldn’t forget.”

  “Damn right, I didn’t. Where’s my change?” Betty said as she finally pulled her gaze from the television to put out her hand toward Tember.

  Tember dug into her pocket and pulled out the two dollars. “Oh, I forgot.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’re on a tight budget. Can’t go wasting it on frivolous things,” her grandmother warned.

  “Yes, Grandmother,” Tember said.

  Tember walked into the living room, which held a newly purchased 50-inch television, a bookcase of DVDs, and two stacks of unscratched lottery tickets. Her grandparents were on disability, living off of her parents’ life insurance, and they received funds through their disability for Tember. They were only on a tight budget when it came to buying anything for Tember.

  Her grandmother yelled from the bedroom, “I’m leaving in a couple hours. No parties or boys in the RV!”

  “Yes, okay,” Tember answered.

  Her grandparents often had left her alone since she was ten years old, and she had never had parties or boys in the RV. Tember opened the fridge that held beer, condiments, jelly, cheese, one apple, and a half gallon of milk. “Can you please leave me some money for food?”

  “I just got done telling you about our financial situation,” Betty yelled back.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Tember respectfully answered. “I’m going for a walk. Have a nice time.”

  Tember quickly made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grabbed the last apple from the fridge, and left the RV. She walked to the back of the campsite where her two-person tent sat in the shade. She unzipped the front flap and grabbed her backpack. She hopped on a yellow Diamondback mountain bike that she bought from a tag sale for fifteen dollars. She rode back toward the pool area.

  It was 12:30, and the pool was still packed with kids, adults, and teens. There were no open chairs. Tember hopped back on her bike and rode across the street to the lake side of camp.

  The narrow road that led around the campground varied from dirt to sand. She veered onto a small path covered thickly with pine needles. She felt as if she was riding on a cloud, and every once in a while, the wheels slipped on the bed of needles.

  She kept track of the time to make sure she could get back for dinner. Then she remembered she was free for a few days. She rode until she came to a small patch of grass that offered a secluded view of the lake. A large oak offered shade and a place for Tember to lean against. She sat down her bike on the soft grass and pulled out her sandwich and apple.

  The breeze coming off the water relieved the humid weather. Tember pulled out her eReader and was content to stay there until sunset. No boys were bothering her, no screaming kids, and no annoying grandparents.

  Around the corner of the lake, Tember heard steady splashing. She guessed it was someone paddling. She looked down at the water and noticed a red canoe with a girl at its stern. She had dirty blonde hair and wore a purple T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

  Because she sat at the stern of the canoe, the bow rose out of the water. Based on the way she paddled, Tember could tell she was a seasoned canoer. Her tan arm muscles rippled with each stroke. Tember envied skin that tanned because hers burned and then seemed to turn whiter.

  The girl looked around the lake as if to see if anyone was watching. Tember crawled forward and flattened herself against the grass. The girl threw the paddle onto the bow and peeled off her shirt, throwing it to the floor of the canoe. She wore a black and purple one-piece suit underneath her discarded clothing. Without any more hesitation, she dove into the water. It was some time before she resurfaced, and Tember leaned forward, watching for her return with bated breath. She resurfaced and gracefully pulled herself into the canoe. Tember knew how difficult it was to pull one’s body into a canoe from deep water, but this girl made it look effortless.

  The girl proceeded to stand on the gunnels of the canoe. One foot was on starboard and the other on port; she then grabbed her right foot and then the left and fell into the water. Just as quickly, she pulled herself back up into the canoe. She repeated this process a dozen times.

  Tember couldn’t take her eyes off this girl. She was determined to balance on the gunnels. Tember could not imagine the amount of energy it took for her to keep pulling herself into the canoe. Before Tember knew it, she had gawked at this girl’s determination for an hour.

  The girl stood again, put a foot on the port gunnel, put another foot on the starboard, and her legs shook; her canoe then steadied for a three count. The girl raised both her fists in the air.

  “Woohoo!” Tember yelled and clapped. The girl turned her head toward Tember, lost her balance, and fell into the water. She swam under the canoe and toward Tember.
Tember moved toward the bluff where she thought the girl wouldn’t be able to see her and quickly threw on her pack, hopped on her bike, and pedaled away.

  4

  Tember sat on the picnic table in her campsite. All campsites were supplied with a similar picnic table. Tember doodled in her notebook, and her stomach growled. Her grandmother had left her ten dollars for two days of meals. She was sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and unfortunately, the rest of the fridge was filled with beer and condiments.

  She remembered she had hidden a frozen pizza in the freezer. The smell of hot dogs, barbeque, and bacon made its way to her campsite. Tember remembered Jeremy’s invitation for dinner. She thought he seemed nice and fun to be around. He had said his daughter was her age, so it wouldn’t be weird sitting there with a forty-year-old guy.

  Tember walked into her grandparents’ RV for something to offer for the invite. She grabbed a six pack of beer, put it in a bag, and headed to campsite 21.

  Campsite 21 was on the other side of the campground. Tember listened to the clinking of the beer bottles, keeping her company on the way. She passed dozens of families enjoying their time. Their camping chairs were drawn in a circle around a campfire, and kids ran around the sites. Some families played camp and lawn games like ladder ball, corn hole, or catch. When people met her eyes, she smiled back and tried not to show her misery and loneliness.

  Campsite 21 had the same setup as her grandparents’ campsite. Pine trees, a picnic table, and water and electrical hook-ups, all on the same small patch of dirt, surrounded it. Jeremy and Gracie had an RV the same size as Tember’s grandparents, but it was much older—a Trailblazer 263 and said so in worn letters across the side of the trailer. Jeremy’s truck was there, but the campsite seemed empty. A plaque hung on the tree reading The Gregorys.

  Jeremy scrambled down the RV stairs holding tongs and a plate piled high with meat in his hands.

  “Tember! You made it. Come here, kid,” Jeremy greeted her.

  “Hi, Jeremy. Does the invite still stand?” Tember timidly asked. “I brought beer.”

  “Heck, yeah!” he answered. “Throw the beer in the cooler. You’re on corn shucking duty since Gracie is MIA.” Jeremy opened the grill and threw on the two huge, marinated steaks and a slab of ribs. “The corn’s on the table.”

  Tember was instantly happy that she had come to his campsite. Jeremy somehow put her at ease. He was a like a goofy older brother or uncle. To Tember he seemed happy, like someone who never had a bad day. When Jeremy and Tember sat down to eat, Gracie still wasn’t home. She started to feel uneasy as she thought Gracie might not exist, or maybe had passed away, and Jeremy pretended she was still alive. Then she remembered she heard the redhead at the pool yell out Gracie’s name, but that could have been another Gracie.

  “She might be here and she might not,” Jeremy said. “She leaves her old man to fend for himself sometimes.”

  “Oh, sorry about that.”

  “Do you do that to your folks?” Jeremy asked.

  Tember answered, “No, I never would, but I’m sure Gracie has her reasons. I mean she is 18 and–”

  “Have my reasons for what?” a girl’s voice called from behind Tember.

  “Daughter ninja. You on stealth mode or what?” Jeremy asked.

  Tember turned to see a girl tromping through the woods behind the site. She had long dirty blonde hair that hung lazily down to her shoulders. A bag hung over her left shoulder. She leaned against a tree with her left hand and stuck a finger on her right hand into her hiking sandals, pulled out a pebble, and let it slide out of her hand to the ground. She sauntered toward Jeremy. Gracie’s blue eyes stared at Tember. She was the girl Tember had watched balancing on the canoe.

  “Gracie, we were just saying how you leave me hanging and fending for myself for dinner,” Jeremy said.

  “And who is we?” Gracie asked as she stood behind Jeremy, wrapped her tan arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss on his cheek while keeping her eyes on Tember.

  Something in Tember shifted, and she held the edge of the table to ground herself.

  “Gracie, Tember. Tember, my late-for-dinner daughter, Gracie,” he said as he introduced them.

  Tember stood and outstretched her hand, but Gracie had already picked up a cob of corn. She countered with a greeting of holding the cob in the air.

  “Nice to meet you, Tember,” Gracie said. “Looks like a good spread, Dad. I’m starved.”

  “Well good. Make yourself useful and grab some beers,” Jeremy said as he pointed to the cooler.

  “So I have a good reason for being a little late,” Gracie said as she stood and walked to the cooler.

  “A little? A little late is 15-20 minutes. You’re over an hour late.” Jeremy crossed his arms.

  “Okay, anyway as I was saying, I walked the road, hopped randomly in the woods, and navigated through the thick trees here. Pretty good, huh?”

  “Nice, chica,” he answered.

  “And...” Gracie continued as she sat next to Jeremy and took a piece of steak off his plate with her fingers and put it into her mouth.

  “Get your own!” Jeremy said as he playfully nudged her.

  “And…” Gracie continued as her blue eyes fell on Tember, “and I rented a canoe again. And spent about an hour trying to find balance, and I did it. After all last summer and now at eighteen, I’m fully balanced.”

  “Well, that’s debatable,” Jeremy said. He laughed and Gracie poked him.

  “Not funny,” Gracie continued. “The best part was that while I was up there celebrating, someone in the woods above the lake cheered and clapped for me. Well, I think it was for me. It was the same exact time I was balanced.”

  Tember’s face grew hot, and she wondered if Gracie knew it was she.

  Tember started, “I–”

  Gracie continued, “I liked to think it was lake fairies or something, or maybe Mom cheering me on.” Gracie looked up at the sky.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Is your mother deceased?” Tember asked.

  “No, Toronto!” Jeremy and Gracie answered in unison and hi-fived each other.

  “Oh,” Tember replied and looked back and forth between them. They were two peas in a pod and the cutest father-daughter pair she had ever run into. She had never witnessed any two people melding together like the two of them. She imagined that her parents were that way, but she didn’t remember them that well.

  “Long story,” Gracie said. “What were you going to say?”

  “Oh, umm, nothing,” Tember answered. She was going to confess that she was the onlooker and cheerer, but once Tember’s blue eyes gazed at Gracie, she forgot how to form words. Tember had no problems navigating or communicating with gorgeous guys like Donnie, but talking with girls did not come as easy to her. They intimidated her and were less predictable. Gracie did not intimidate her, but she made Tember feel a different kind of nervous.

  “So what’s your story?” Gracie asked as she sat on the table, hovering over Jeremy and Tember.

  “My story,” Tember said. “It’s nothing really.”

  Jeremy took a bite of his corn and said, “She’s a tough nut to crack. Good luck with her. I had a hard time getting out of her anything but that she reads and that she’s a Yankees and a Red Sox fan.”

  “Really? Interesting. I love a good challenge,” Gracie said as she climbed over the table and sat next to Tember.

  Tember had never seen someone do such a thing, and it felt predatory in a way, like the way a villain does in a cartoon. Tember felt her throat grow dry and tighten. She felt as though she was this girl’s prey, with her dad watching.

  “Hey, you never gave me a count,” Jeremy whined.

  “Five,” Gracie quickly answered and then turned her attention back to Tember. “So you read and write?”

  “No, no...no, Gracie, you’re not getting her to write your paper. Only five boys, you’re losing your touch.”

  Tember’s eyes widened, and she won
dered what they meant by five boys. Was she sleeping with them or kissing them?

  Gracie seemed to notice her confusion, “So Dad and I do this thing of keeping track of how many boys hit on me each day. When he was in high school, he was rejected by tons.”

  “Not tons,” he protested.

  “Okay, millions of girls. He likes hearing that his offspring’s a sought-after entity,” Gracie explained.

  “Wow...how Great Expectations of you,” Tember said and laughed.

  Gracie’s smile softened as she looked at Tember.

  “Didn’t read the book but saw the movie!” Jeremy informed. “It’s like that, but without the creepy wedding dress, and I’m not pimping my daughter out to guys.”

  “Just for fun, he sometimes follows me around, and if a boy looks at me, he introduces himself as my dad and tells them about his gun collection.” Gracie rolled her eyes at him.

  Jeremy chuckled and said, “I don’t even own a gun. Not that I have to worry, well, about guys anyway. You’re a sweet, pretty girl. You gay or lesbian or anything?”

  “Dad!” Gracie said as she threw her eaten cob at him. “Don’t answer that, Tember. Dad, you don’t ask people that!”

  “Okay...okay,” Jeremy said as he stood. “I’m going to put the food away.” He grabbed a few plates and balanced them on his arms as he entered the RV.

  Tember imagined what it would be like to have a parent cook for her, clean up, or care about her the way Jeremy did for Gracie. Gracie stood and went to the cooler. The ice sloshed and clanked as she shifted her hand through the ice and bottles. Gracie returned with two bottles of beer.

  “Here you go,” she said.

  Tember looked toward the RV.

  “Oh, he doesn’t care. He wants me to build a tolerance before college.”

  Tember took the beer, twisted open the top, and took a sip. It tasted bitter. She had heard beer was an acquired taste and wondered why anyone would want to acquire it.

  “So yeah, I’m gay, well, a lesbian to be exact,” Gracie said. “I don’t like boys, at least not in that way.”

  “Oh okay, congrats,” Tember said as she raised her beer to Gracie, and Gracie reluctantly clinked bottles with her.