The Family Fletcher Takes Rock Island

by Dana Alison Levy

  —

  The Appledore Inn was the only real hotel on the island, and one of its biggest buildings too. The Fletchers walked up the wide wooden steps and clomped across the giant shaded porch, where people sat in rocking chairs watching the boats bobbing in the harbor.

  Jax snorted. What kind of people would come to Rock Island and sit on a porch, rather than actually going out and doing something? A few of them were pretty old, it was true, but Mimi and Boppa still went to the beach, even if they needed big upright chairs and an umbrella.

  “I like this place,” Frog said as they walked into the dim lobby. “I like the rocking chairs. And I like the pictures.” He pointed at the walls, which were filled with enormous black-and-white photographs of Rock Island over the years.

  “There’s the lighthouse,” Eli said, pointing at one.

  “And there’s Val and Alex’s house,” Jax added, looking at the photo.

  “Where’s our house?” Frog asked, peering at it.

  Dad walked over. “See? It’s this tiny shack right there.” He pointed to a small blob on the photo. “This was before it was expanded, when it was just one room.”

  Jax stared. The Nugget looked like a doghouse next to the massive Wheelright house. But both houses were dwarfed by the lighthouse, standing tall and proud in the foreground of the photo. The boys stood for a second, looking at it. Jax figured they were all thinking the same thing.

  Sam spoke first. “We’ll get back to fund-raising tomorrow.”

  Papa gave him a quick hug. “Sounds good,” he said, starting to walk toward the dining room. “But for now, let’s get in there before we’re late.”

  There was a crowd moving slowly through the doors into the dining room. As the Fletchers shifted and shuffled in line, a loud voice boomed out in front of them.

  “What a worthy institution! I believe it was the poet T. S. Eliot who said that libraries were our best hope for the future. So glad to be able to join this event,” the voice said.

  Jax peered through the crowd and saw the blond, tan head of Chase Kark. He was waving his arms while he spoke, causing people around him to bob and weave slightly in order to avoid being whacked. As they filed into the room, Jax was relieved to see Kark going to a table near the front.

  He was even more relieved, when they finally entered the fancy dining room, with its white tablecloths and vases of roses everywhere, to see that they were at a table with the Galindo-Green family, at least according to the seating chart.

  Jax slid into his seat, glowering at Frog when he tried to sit next to him.

  “Go sit somewhere else. I’m saving this for Alex.”

  Frog huffed, but moved over to sit by Eli. “I don’t even want to sit with you. Eli said he’d help me with Zeus’s swimming lessons. You won’t even get a chance to help,” he said.

  Jax rolled his eyes. “If I am never near another soaking-wet cat in my life—especially a soaking-wet Zeus—that’s soon enough for me! I still have scabs from his last ‘swim.’ ” Jax pulled his leg up onto the chair to peer at his ankle, which was crisscrossed with scratches.

  “Here come the Galindo-Greens,” Papa said, waving an arm. “John! Over here.”

  Sam sighed a little as Val moved toward them, waving wildly, as though she hadn’t seen them in days. Val was always theatrical.

  Jax felt bad for him. Val was okay, but Alex was…

  Alex was walking toward them, behind Natalia, wearing…a dress?

  Jax stared, a grin blooming on his face. Was this a joke? How completely awesome! His parents would never let him get away with—

  “Alexandra! You look very distinguished,” Papa said, pretending to bow.

  Alexandra? Jax paused, half in and half out of his chair. Alex wasn’t wearing a baseball cap, which was weird. Jax took in the neatly combed ear-length hair, the big dark eyes that looked just like Val’s, and the leather necklace with a whale’s-tail pendant that Alex always wore. But now, with a fancy light blue T-shirt dress and sandals, it looked like an actual necklace. That a girl would wear.

  Crash.

  “Jax!” Dad cried. “Are you okay?”

  Jax had tried to sit down and missed his chair completely, crashing to the ground.

  “Huh? What? Oh. I’m, um…fine. I’m fine.” Stumbling, Jax got up, barely noticing that his butt was throbbing where it had slammed into the hard wooden floor. He sat in the chair, careful to look anywhere but at Alex, who had taken the seat next to his.

  “Why are you so weird? You turning into a freak show?” Alex sounded the same, at least.

  But Jax couldn’t bring himself to answer. All around him the grown-ups were jabbering and chatting, talking about the library and whether the low fish catch would turn around in the fall. Eli and Frog were staring at Alex, as though waiting for someone to explain what was going on. Jax knew how they felt.

  “Hand me the butter, will you?” Alex asked, picking up a roll. “I’m starving.”

  Jax grabbed the silver dish in front of him and handed it over. He couldn’t help noticing that Alex’s hands, which had been holding snakes and crabs all week, looked suddenly small and clean and…dainty.

  “What is wrong with you?” Alex asked loudly, and Jax jumped.

  “Nothing!” he squawked, and jammed his knife into the butter, figuring it would be rock hard and cold. Instead it had softened to mush, and the pressure of Jax’s hand turned his knife into a catapult, sending a wad of butter flying.

  “Oh no!” Jax yelled. He watched in horror as the butter arced up into the air, then landed with an audible splat on the cheek of the woman at the table next to them.

  “AAAAAAAH!” she shrieked, leaping up as though she’d been stung.

  Jax stared, frozen.

  Dad, who had started to rise out of his chair when the woman yelled, paused, staring from Jax’s knife to the woman’s face. He closed his eyes for a second.

  “What happened?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “It’s butter!”

  “It’s only butter!”

  “Why is she covered in butter?”

  “Where did it come from?”

  Jax slid down in the chair, wishing he could slide under the table and disappear. Dad had rushed over to the other table, where the questions, exclamations, and apologies rang out loud and fast.

  “Jackson! Why on earth…” Papa started; then he shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. There is absolutely nothing you can say that will make sense of the fact that you just flung butter…” He paused and put both hands over his face, scrubbing hard.

  “I’m sorry!” Jax squeaked. “I just…It was an accident! I…”

  Papa just waved his hand for silence, then covered his face again.

  Jax slunk lower. How had the butter even done that? He didn’t think he could do it again, even if he tried. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the other table, where the woman was wiping her face with a large napkin while everyone at her table stood around her, talking loudly. Jax quickly stared at his lap.

  Finally Papa looked up, red-faced, eyebrows rumpled. He took a deep breath.

  “Okay. How about this?” He looked at all the boys in turn, ending with Jax. “New Fletcher Family rule. From now on, no flinging butter onto strangers. All right?”

  “Or on family members or friends!” Dad added, sliding back into his chair. “Let’s go ahead and make that a universal rule. No butter flinging at all!”

  The boys nodded silently.

  “No butter flinging at all,” Frog whispered, sounding solemn.

  Jax stared at the table. The butter had been so mushy! And Alex was in a dress! And— Well, it didn’t matter. Papa was right. There was no point in trying to explain.

  Glancing around, he caught Alex’s eye. Alex had a napkin over his—her!—face.

  “Are you…,” Jax started to ask. Now what? Was Alex crying? Who knows what a girl might do?

  Alex dropped the napkin, and Jax saw
that she was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. Jax felt his own face relax; then he started to grin.

  “You…! That…! Best. Thing. Ever!” Alex gasped between pants of laughter. “Her face…” She dissolved into laughter and couldn’t finish.

  Jax glanced over to the other table. Mercifully, everyone seemed to be smiling. His grin spread wider; then he started to laugh too.

  “Next time…,” Alex tried to say, between gasps, “…and for the rest of my life…if someone says ‘Pass the butter’ ”—she hiccupped—“I’m gonna picture…” Words escaped and the laughter took over.

  Jax couldn’t help it. He laughed harder; then Eli, Frog, Sam, and Val were all laughing hysterically, miming Jax’s butter flinging. Pretty soon Natalia, John, and even Dad and Papa were laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

  Finally someone at the front of the room rang a bell, and all around them the guests fell quiet. Jax swallowed one last snort.

  “Honored guests…” The woman at the front of the room began her speech, and Jax tried to settle down.

  He glanced over at Alex. Now that he looked, really looked, at his friend, he supposed the whole girl thing was pretty obvious. But what was he supposed to think, with a name like Alex? And when she was always wearing board shorts and swim shirts on the beach, the same as Jax and his brothers? He sighed.

  Alex looked over at him. “Butter?” she whispered, holding up the silver dish and grinning.

  Sam wandered into the kitchen, then wandered back out again, empty-handed. Dad raised an eyebrow.

  “You okay, buddy? What’s going on?”

  Sam shrugged. The day before, they’d gone back into town to try the lobster races, hoping to raise more money for the lighthouse. Of course, one of the lobsters had escaped over the dock. The boys had been forced to pay for it out of their donations, so it had been kind of an epic fail. Sure, they had saved most of the lemonade money, and even with the lost lobster they had made a little more yesterday, but the grand total wasn’t exactly inspiring. They weren’t going to buy a lighthouse with sixty-eight dollars. They couldn’t even buy a brick. That morning they’d decided on a day off and headed to the big beach. It had been awesome, complete with perfect waves and some sick rides on his surfboard. But now they were home, in that dead time after the beach and before dinner, and Sam was…Sam was bored. On Rock Island. It was an unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling.

  “Where are your brothers?” Papa asked from the porch, where he had been listening.

  “Jax is over in Alex’s yard, catching snakes, and Eli and Frog are with the stupid cat again,” Sam answered.

  As though in response there was a low yowling from the bathroom. Dad shuddered a little.

  “That poor cat,” he muttered. Then he stood up. “I’m going into town to get some fish for dinner. Want to come?”

  Sam shrugged again, then nodded. His phone got a little service in town. Maybe he’d call Em, just to see how her rehearsals were going. Or maybe Tyler was back from Canada and on his phone. Sam sighed as he put on his shoes. They weren’t even halfway through their time on Rock Island, and horribly, secretly, he kind of wanted to go home.

  When they got into town, Dad headed down to the docks for fish, and Sam, left to his own devices, wandered aimlessly, unsure of what to do with himself. Town was busy, with people bustling in and out of the few stores and wandering through the farmers’ market set up by the bank. All around, tourists were clogging the sidewalks, taking photos of the old-fashioned buildings.

  Sam’s phone buzzed. It was Dad, saying he was going to visit with Captain Jim for a bit and Sam could join them when he got bored with wandering.

  Sam sighed.

  “You’re one of the Fletcher boys, aren’t you?” a man asked, as Sam stared wistfully into the window of the bakeshop.

  Sam jumped a little. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, I am.”

  Chase Kark stood in front of him with his big wooden easel under his arm. He smiled, his giant teeth gleaming in the sun.

  Sam blushed a little. “Hey there. I still have your change.” He felt through his pockets. “I think I left it at home, though. Sorry.”

  “Pshaw!” Kark said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll stop by sometime and get it. Not to worry.”

  Sam couldn’t help thinking that if he had thirty-seven dollars in change waiting for him he’d want to get his hands on it, but he guessed being an adult was different.

  “Are you enjoying the island?” Kark continued. “It’s…well, it’s a glorious place. Truly amazing. I’m so inspired here! There aren’t enough hours in the day to paint.” He gestured wildly with his arm, as though to encompass the entire island.

  Sam nodded. It was pretty, he guessed. He just wished he had more friends here. For the first time, being the oldest felt lonely.

  “Well, I need to go,” he said, starting to walk away. “Have a nice day.”

  “Where are you heading next? I’ll walk with you,” Kark said, falling into step next to him. “I’m headed down toward the docks to paint, but a walk would be nice.”

  “I’ve got to get…” Sam paused. He didn’t really know where he needed to go, but he didn’t feel like talking to Chase Kark in his bright green shorts. Before he could think of a good excuse he heard his name and looked around gratefully, hoping for a savior.

  “Sam! ¡Hola! How are things?” It was Valerie, waving her big full-arm wave as she crossed the street. It looked, Sam thought, like she was trying to guide in an airplane.

  He sighed. “Hey there. What are you doing in town?” It wasn’t quite the rescue he had had in mind. In a contest between Valerie and Green Shorts Man, Sam supposed she’d win, but not by a ton.

  “On my way to the theater improv group. I film their stuff, remember?” She adjusted her huge hat and checked her phone. “I’d better go! See you!”

  Sam gave a slightly panicked look at Kark, who was standing, waiting. “I’ll…um, I’ll go with you. Check it out.” He blushed and avoided looking at Valerie.

  Mercifully, she didn’t seem to find it the least bit odd that he’d suddenly decided to come to a theater group. She just clapped her hands and started walking. “Excellent! They’ll be glad to have someone new. But we gotta go. They’ve already started!”

  Sam fell into step quickly. “Okay. Um…bye, Mr. Kark!” he called. “We have to go!”

  Kark beamed. “Enjoy! Sounds like great fun! All the world’s a stage!” His voice trailed off behind them.

  “What is he even talking about?” Sam muttered, trying to keep up with Valerie. But she was racing ahead.

  “Just have to go to the bathroom. It’s right through there,” she said, ducking in through the side door of the old United Church. “See you in a minute!” She disappeared down a hallway.

  It was cool and dim inside the church entry, and through the doorway Sam saw polished wood and whitewashed walls. It all looked very solemn and important.

  “Can I help you?” a voice asked from behind him.

  Sam jumped. “Oh! Sorry! There’s an improv group, but I don’t—” he babbled.

  “Oh! You want the Actors’ Project. They’re this way.” The man, who was dressed in everyday clothes except for his collar, gestured behind him toward a hallway.

  Unsure of what else to do, Sam followed. The hallway at least looked normal and less fancy, with a worn-out tile floor and plain walls covered with posters and notices. The man opened a door.

  “Ta-da! The improv group,” he said, clapping Sam on the back. “Have fun. These guys are a riot!” With that, he shut the door behind Sam, leaving him trapped.

  “Oh good! We need another partner. You’re with me!” Before Sam could duck back out, a tall guy with a stubby beard and a huge grin grabbed him.

  “I’m Ted. That’s Julia. You’re with us. Have you ever done the bench game?” Ted talked fast, and moved even faster. Sam barely had time to register the curly-haired girl named Julia, who gave him a cheerful
wave, and the rest of the kids standing around the room in groups of three or four, before Ted jumped into the middle of the room.

  “The bench game! We sit on a bench, doing an invisible activity, until one of our partners comes along, sits next to us, and changes the activity up. Then you follow their lead. Nicole, why doesn’t your group go first?”

  Nicole turned out to be a tall blond girl wearing a Boston Marathon T-shirt. Like Ted and Julia, she looked like she was in high school or maybe even college. Flashing a big grin that showed her dimples, Nicole sauntered silently to the middle of the room, then sat down on the bench. Without saying a word, she mimed putting a key in the ignition, buckling a seat belt, then driving. Every once in a while she’d turn around as though saying something to people in the backseat, and once she took her hand off the (imaginary) wheel to flail and slap at whoever was back there, which made everyone laugh. Val, who had slipped in without Sam noticing, laughed louder than anyone else.

  “Okay, Grace, you go! Mix it up!” Ted called after a minute.

  Another girl walked forward and took a seat next to Nicole on the bench. Without saying anything she leaned down, pulled out an imaginary phone from an imaginary bag, and began what was clearly an angry conversation. As Grace started doing this, Nicole abandoned her driving role and stood up, pretending to read a book while holding on to a pole on what Sam assumed was a swaying subway car. Every few seconds she would glance up from her book and glare at Grace, shooting her a nasty look, and then go back to reading. Grace immediately followed her lead on the subway car, lurching and occasionally jostling Nicole as though the train were moving.

  “And, Mateo, join in!” Ted called.

  The game went on and on, and when it was Sam’s group’s turn he found that it was easy enough to fall in, to remember some of the improvisation drills they had done in the school play rehearsals. Julia went first, pretending to be sitting at what was clearly a very fancy tea party, her pinkie finger extended, her back ramrod straight, as she sipped and nibbled. When Sam joined her, he slouched onto the bench, stretching his legs as far out as he could without falling off. He scratched his head and examined what was under his fingernails, which made everyone laugh. Then he leaned across Julia as though to grab something to eat, and shoved it toward his mouth, chewing with his mouth wide open and pretending to talk at the same time. He kept going, pretending he was a glutton at a feast, grabbing and eating and occasionally offering a huge, silent belch, which got more laughs. Julia followed along, pretending to fight him for food he was grabbing, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and even raising partway off the bench as though to let out a particularly big fart. Sam almost burst out laughing at that, but he kept in character, keeping the game going, until Ted joined them and turned them into little kids waiting for their mom.