by Adam Dark
“Your mom’s stressed,” Nico said.
“You think,” I said.
“Are they still fighting?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Your parents.”
“Sometimes. My dad’s hardly around anymore,” I said.
Nico was quiet until I handed him the last plate.
“I’m sorry. My parents did the same thing before they got divorced.”
“They’re not getting divorced,” I said.
“I hope not. I’m just saying, I understand and I’m here if you need someone to talk to,” Nico said.
My hands hung in the soapy water as I turned to face him. Nico was the last person I’d think of getting advice from. I had never seen this side of him. It was weird. I was going to retaliate with some rebuttal but decided against it.
Nico was right. My parents were acting like his had right before his father just up and left. Other than the child support checks that came in once a month, he never saw or heard from his father again. He rarely saw his mother either. She worked three jobs just to get by.
Of course Nico never talked about this and no one at school knew. But I did. That was one of the many reasons why Nico and I were best friends, even though I would have said he wasn’t my favorite. Sure, the others were my buddies too, but Nico and I had been together since we were young.
We knew each other’s darkest secrets and greatest achievements. If I ever needed someone, Nico would be there to help me no matter what. So instead of a snarky remark, I said, “Thank you.”
We finished the dishes five minutes later and ran up to my room. I paused by my mother’s bedroom before running up the stairs. I thought I heard sobbing. I was about to knock on her door when Nico called me from the stairs.
“Leave it,” he said.
His face was gentle. He knew all too well what lay on the other side of that door. I swallowed the sadness in my chest and followed him to my room. Abigail had music blaring from her room. As we passed by, I heard her slam a drawer.
When we got to my room, I closed the door. It blocked out most of the noise and the tension from the rest of the house. I plopped down on the edge of my bed. Nico fell into the chair and tossed the football in the air.
“Do you really think they’ll get divorced?” I asked after a while.
“You’re probably right. You have nothing to worry about,” Nico said.
I didn’t believe him, but I also didn’t want to think of the alternative. We were both still wearing our shorts from the day prior. We were ready for the lake even before we woke.
“Want me to help you load up the car?” Nico asked.
“Sure,” I said.
He followed me back down the stairs.
7
We had just loaded the cooler in the back of the van when Abigail and my mother came out of the house. Abigail had her beach bag slung over her shoulder and her hair tied in a ponytail. Half her face was covered by large sunglasses. She strode past us and hopped in the front seat.
She crossed her arms and planted her feet on the dashboard. Why she was so mad didn’t make sense. The lake was fun. It’s not like there was anything else to do at the house.
I walked up the sidewalk. My mother handed me a bundle of freshly folded beach towels and I added these with the rest of our gear. Nico and I had floaties, flippers, sun screen, the cooler with water, snacks, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous items.
We would have brought our bikes if we could have fit them in the van. He and I exchanged a look when we passed by the empty driveway where my father’s car should have been. He wasn’t in the study after all. I couldn’t remember if it had been there the night before or not.
I hopped into the back seat and Nico climbed in after me.
“Everyone ready to have fun?” my mother asked as she got in.
My sister groaned in the front seat and Nico and I said yes.
“At least someone is excited to go to the lake,” my mother said.
She backed out of the drive and sped off. The lake was twenty minutes away. It wasn’t that it was far, but that we had to take a long, winding road around the lake to get to the docks. We passed several picnic and beach areas along the way.
“Aren’t we going to the lake?” I asked.
“We are, but I thought we’d do something different today,” my mother said.
We pulled into the parking lot at the Blue Lagoon marina five minutes later. There were a few trucks there but it was vacant for the most part. I expected to see more people at the lake than this. I guess we were early. Nico and I were the first ones out of the van.
We had the back door open and half of the supplies stacked on the pavement before a man from the boat shop came out.
“How are you folks doing this morning? Is there something I can help you with?” he asked.
He glanced our way but kept his focus on my mother. He wasn’t what I expected either. He wore khaki shorts with Sperry’s shoes, and a gray top. He had his hair combed back and wore dark sunglasses. He looked more like he belonged on the golf course or an office than at a yacht club.
“Do you work here?” my mother asked.
“I’m the manager. The name’s John,” the man said.
He removed his sunglasses and stuffed them in the slit between the top two buttons on his shirt. I couldn’t help but notice his muscled and hairy chest popping out. He extended his hand to my mother.
“Nice to meet you,” my mother said. “These are my two children, Abigail and Ben, and his friend Nico.”
The man nodded our direction.
“What brings you out here on this fine day? You looking to rent a boat?” he asked.
“Actually, yes,” my mother said.
Nico and I exchanged excited looks. I had never been on a boat other than the one summer when we went fishing with my mother’s brother, Uncle Joe, in the Ozarks. That was so long ago that I thought I had imagined it. I knew we used to drive up to see Uncle Joe at least twice a year and each time he’d take us out on his yacht, rain or shine, cold or heat.
We stopped seeing him about four years ago. Supposedly Uncle Joe had made some inappropriate comments about Abigail. When I asked my parents what he had said, they just told me Uncle Joe had a problem. Abigail never elaborated either, but we never saw Uncle Joe after that.
I missed the Ozarks. The lake here in Oakwood Valley reminded me of Ozark lakes, but it wasn’t as glamorous or big. But, a lake was a lake, and any body of water at this point was good with me. My shirt was sticking to my back when John shook my hand. I thought he was trying to break my hand when he squeezed.
“Good to meet you, son,” he said.
He shook Nico’s hand and nodded in Abigail’s direction before turning his attention back to my mother. His eyes flashed up and down my mother’s body before they settled on her eyes again. The other boys at school always said how hot she was. It always made me feel weird hearing that, but they weren’t lying. Mom was a pretty woman. She had lost a bit of her shine this last year as she and dad argued more, but she still had her youthfulness about her.
“Are you looking for kayaks to paddle around the lake or for a full-day cruiser like a pontoon?” John asked.
My mother glanced at us.
“What do you boys think?” she asked.
My mother never asked us what we preferred. We always did what she and my father decided. Nico and I glanced at each other and nodded. We both shouted, “Pontoon!”
It was a no brainer. While the kayaks would be fun, the pontoon would illicit even grander adventures on the water, not to mention, neither one of us had ever been on one before. I couldn’t wait!
“I guess we’ll take a pontoon,” my mother said with a laugh.
The man smiled.
“Right this way. I’ll show you what I got,” John said.
We followed close behind, Nico and I cheering and jumping up and down like a couple of school girls. Abigail could care less. She scooped u
p her bag and sauntered off toward the dock while we headed inside the shop.
Mom followed John to the counter to look through the pamphlet of the different boats she could rent for the day. Nico and I investigated the shop. We found a rack full of hats. Nico put a cowboy hat on and posed in front of the small mirror to the side of the display.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Your ears look bigger with that thing on,” I said.
Nico grimaced and tossed the hat back on the rack and grabbed another.
“That’s even worse,” I said.
He was wearing a fluffy hat on that looked like someone had slaughtered a flock of pink flamingos. I didn’t’ read the tag, but I imagined they weren’t real. Still, Nico’s pale skin was all but translucent in comparison. He chunked the hat my way.
He placed one in the shape of a turtle on my head. My eyes disappeared into the “shell.”
“It suits you,” Nico said. “I think we found your long-lost home.”
“It’s too big,” I said. “This thing was made for a giant.”
“Or you just have a tiny head,” Nico offered.
I replaced the turtle and went to the sunglasses. The first pair I picked up would have made even Abigail cringe. I had never seen so much pink and sparkle in one place. Of course, I put it on. The moment Nico saw me he burst out laughing.
“You look like a fairy,” he said. “Are you going to sprout wings and fly away?”
“I’ll sprout a fist right in your face,” I said.
“The only thing you’ll be sprouting is fairy dust. Do you think your tiny, little wings will hurt me?”
I threw the sunglasses at him. I wasn’t truly mad. Nico and I were just having fun. We continued our mock charade until we had all but tried on every pair of sunglasses, every type of snorkel, and any other bizarre accessories we could find. I was pretty sure John would never want us coming back again.
My mother found us near the back of the store.
“There you are! What are you boys doing?” my mother asked.
Her eyes went to the floatie Nico had wrapped around his waist and the massive flippers I had stuffed on my arms. The owner, John, came around the corner. His lips cracked into a grin.
“Looks like you boys found the toy chest,” John said.
“You boys made a mess,” my mother said.
Nico and I glanced around the floor. There were swim toys, gear, hats, shells, and any assortment of items scattered along the shelves and the floor. We both smiled as innocently as we could.
“Pick this up,” my mother said.
“It’s okay,” John said.
“No, they made the mess, they can clean it up. You shouldn’t have to pick up after them,” my mother said to John. He offered an understanding smile but did not intervene. You never stepped between a mother and her child.
“What were you two thinking?” she asked.
“We were just having some fun, Mrs. Robinson,” Nico said. “We’ll pick it all up.”
“Make sure you put everything back where you found it. And be careful!”
My mom sighed and apologized to John no less than five times by the time we had picked up our mess. Mother thanked John for his help and escorted us out of the boat shop. We weren’t even five feet from the store door when she laid into me.
“What were you thinking, Ben? You can’t just make a mess everywhere you go. I taught you better than that,” my mom said.
“I’m sorry .”
I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. It wasn’t like we broke anything or stole. I knew other kids at school who did far worse things than I had ever done, and yet, my mother seemed to always chastise me for the small things.
“You need to respect people’s property,” she said.
I kept my mouth shut and didn’t say anything else. Nico did the same. He and I knew it was a losing battle to defend ourselves. Best to apologize and leave it be. Besides, she’d forget in an hour anyway. I glanced back and saw John leaning against the side of the boat shop watching us walk off.
He didn’t go back inside until we turned down the dock.
“Where’s your sister?” my mother asked.
“I don’t know. She stormed off like a sourpuss when we got here.”d I did little to hide my frustration with always getting in trouble while Abigail could run off and pout.
“Help me find your sister,” my mother said.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long. We found her near the edge of the dock. Two guys were talking to her. As we walked up, Abigail’s face turned sour and she rolled her eyes.
“Abigail, I thought I told you to stay with your brother,” my mother said.
“He’s twelve. He doesn’t need a babysitter,” Abigail said.
“That’s not the point. If I ask you to do something, I need you to do it,” my mother said.
Abigail did not hide her annoyance. Her face flushed.
“Let’s go,” my mother said.
The two guys had to be in their twenties. They were definitely not high schoolers like Abigail.
“I’m staying here with my friends,” Abigail said. “I don’t like the water.”
My mother was lightning. She snatched Abigail by the arm and lifted her off the bench and began leading her away.
“She’s sixteen!” my mother said with venom at the older boys. They both glanced at each other and laughed.
I glared at them as I walked off.
“Don’t they know she’s just a kid?” Nico said.
He shot glares their way too as though he were Abigail’s brother.
“Funny, coming from someone who has had a crush on her since first grade,” I said.
“It’s different. I’m younger,” Nico said.
“Uh huh, whatever you say, lover boy .”
Nico punched me in the arm and we ran to catch up to my mother.
“What were you thinking? Do you know how old those boys were? What if they hurt you?” my mother was saying when we caught up.
“You ruin everything! Why don’t you want me to make friends? They were nice, and they thought I was pretty,” Abigail said.
“Of course they did! You’re a little girl and they’re predators,” my mother said.
“Not everyone is a creep like your brother,” Abigail said.
My mother slapped her on the cheek.
“You watch your mouth, young lady. You may be sixteen, but I’m your mother. I’ve been around long enough to know when a boy means well or has ulterior motives. And those boys back there…” she pointed at the two college-aged guys at the edge of the dock, still looking at them.
“They mean trouble for a girl like you.”
“You’re just jealous because you aren’t the center of the universe anymore. Just because dad doesn’t flirt with you doesn’t mean you have to ruin my life too!” Abigail said.
I thought my mother was going to slap my sister again, but she restrained herself. Instead, she released Abigail’s arm.
“Your father is a good man. You show him respect,” my mother said.
Abigail pursed her lips and crossed her arms.
“Then where is he? Why isn’t he here with us?” Abigail asked.
Nico and I stood off to the side, out of firing range. I had only seen my sister and mother go at it like this a handful of times and it was never pretty. This must have been what it was like for the soldiers in Vietnam when they were ambushed in the trees. No one came out in one piece. These battles usually ended with one or both of them crying the rest of the day in their rooms, and not talking or making eye contact for no less than a week afterward.
I just hoped Abigail’s stupidity didn’t cost me a day on the lake.
“Your father’s working hard for the family,” my mother began to recite. It was the same argument she used every time we asked where dad was.
“You’re always defending him! You want us to be honest, why can’t you be? Just admit it. You’re jus
t upset because dad doesn’t love you anymore and your marriage is failing. Just because your life sucks doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us,” Abigail said.
I could feel Nico holding his breath. The tension was palpable. There was no sign of John now nor the two older boys on the dock. They had fled before darts were thrown. My mother and sister stood there, speechless but about to explode, neither backing down.
It was my mother who made the first move. She scooped up her bag and continued to the end of the dock where the boats were tied. I wasn’t sure what to do. I looked to my sister who had tears streaming down her face, then to my mother’s departing frame. I picked up one end of the cooler, Nico grabbed the other, and we headed toward my mother.
There was no point in sitting around waiting for my sister to come to her senses. She was lucky my mother hadn’t disowned her long ago. She’d have to work through this on her own. The pontoon was tied off at the far end of the dock. There were no less than twenty other boats tethered to the dock. Some were pontoons like the one we boarded, while others were fishing boats, kayaks, and canoes.
Our pontoon was blue and silver. It had a sporty blue canopy. The words Blue Angel were etched along the brow in blue paint. The letters barely held on. The L looked like it was about to fall off completely just like our family. Nico and I carried the cooler onboard and stuffed it against the interior wall near the steering column.
We dropped the rest of our gear on the seats near the bow of the boat and journeyed to the swim platform near the stern. Nico and I had our feet in the water when Abigail walked up. She had her arms cradled around her body as she stepped over the threshold onto the deck of the pontoon. She sat in the bow cockpit next to the cooler and held her legs to her chest. She stared off into the distance.
“What do you think will happen?” Nico asked.
He was looking over his shoulder. My mother was in the cockpit readying the controls.
“They’ve fought like this before. After about a week or two, they’ll be fine,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” Nico said.
I shrugged.
“Whatever,” I said. “Let’s just have fun and not worry about them.”
