The Invincible Summer of Juniper Jones

by Daven McQueen

  The house was quiet now, with Juniper gone and Aunt Cara and Uncle Robert having retreated to their room. When Ethan went to brush his teeth, he thought they had gone to sleep. But as he opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom that separated his room from theirs, he heard soft coughing and then, louder, his name. He froze, hand on his toothbrush, and strained to listen. Inching closer to their door, he realized that what he had thought was coughing was actually quiet sobs.

  “—just want to know how we’re supposed to raise a child in a place like this,” Aunt Cara was saying between sniffles.

  “It’s not just here, Cara,” Uncle Robert said.

  “A world like this, then. I’m scared for our baby.”

  Uncle Robert laughed harshly. “Look at us. Our baby will be fine.”

  “That’s not what I’m scared of,” Aunt Cara said.

  Uncle Robert was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. Ethan pressed his ear harder against the door.

  “No child we raise will be anything like those monsters. We won’t let that happen.”

  Aunt Cara seemed calmed by this, because she didn’t say anything for a while. Then, in a stronger voice, she said, “I love that boy. Like he’s our own son. But I wish Andy had never sent him here.”

  “I know,” Uncle Robert said. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do now. We just have to make it through these last few days.”

  Ethan heard a shuffling sound, then footsteps approaching the bathroom. He stumbled back from the door and back into his room without brushing his teeth, just barely managing to close the door behind him. His heart was racing. Just a couple of months earlier, to hear his aunt and uncle speak this way would have been a shock. And while he was comforted to know that it was on their minds, there was a strange, twisted feeling in his stomach.

  Jealousy, he realized, sinking back onto his bed. Of Aunt Cara and Uncle Robert’s child, who would grow up learning about race but could just as easily not. Their child would have no moment of rude awakening, of looking around a crowd of people and not seeing a single face that looked like his own. He would never look in the mirror and feel his whiteness as a terrible shame.

  Ethan remembered what his mother said, about how black kids were never allowed to be innocent. And yet he had been, for a time. Aunt Cara said she wished her brother had never sent him to Ellison—and he knew that things would have been much easier if that had been the case. But now, at least, he could see the world for what it was. He could see himself for who he was. And maybe, in time, he’d learn to look in the mirror and see his blackness as a precious gift.

  Ethan must have fallen asleep at some point because he found himself opening his eyes sometime later to complete darkness and the gentle clicks of a finished record still spinning. His room was completely dark and no sounds came from the hall. Groaning, he rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. But after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he finally accepted that he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

  The clock on his nightstand told him it was close to midnight. Aunt Cara and Uncle Robert had to be asleep now, and Ethan knew what would calm his nerves. With a quick glance at his bedroom door, just to be sure, he reached for his sneakers underneath the bed.

  The window glided open smoothly, and Ethan dropped down onto the dust, just as he had so many times this summer. He didn’t hesitate, just took off running, guided by the moonlight and accompanied by the song of cicadas. He was in his pajamas—a ratty T-shirt and sweats—and it wasn’t long before he had sweated through both of them. Still, he continued jogging down the path, winding in the direction of the lake. He needed to see where it happened.

  When he arrived on the quiet beach and skidded to a stop, it was empty. No figures in white robes, no flames, no cross. But in the sand, a few charred scraps of fabric were a reminder of what had happened here only a few days before.

  Ethan turned in a slow circle where he was pretty sure the cross had stood, his arms out to his sides. The sand crunched beneath his feet. When he made it all the way around, he saw Juniper watching him from the edge of the woods, her face half shrouded by darkness.

  “Hey,” he said, dropping his arms.

  “Hey.” She stepped out of the shadows. “I’ve been coming here every night. I just felt like I needed to see it for myself.”

  “Me too.”

  They stood there, staring at the ashy sand, both imagining the heat of a burning cross on their faces. Ethan sighed. “Wanna sit on the dock?”

  Juniper offered a small smile. “Always.”

  They sat on the very edge, as they always did, with the bottoms of their shoes just barely skimming the surface of the lake. Juniper glanced skyward. “Have you ever been in an airplane?” she asked.

  Ethan shook his head. “I want to, someday. Sure seems cool.”

  “When I was little I used to be so scared of them.” She laughed slightly. “I thought, there’s no way anything can fly like that. It’d just explode in the air. But now, by gosh. What I wouldn’t give to be up there.” She paused then added, “I know this isn’t how it works, but if I could reach out an airplane window, I think I’d borrow a few stars and bring them back home.”

  “What would you do with them?”

  She paused for a moment, thinking. “I think I’d hang them on people’s front doors,” she decided. “So much sunshine here in the summer, but God knows this town could use a little light.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Ethan said, and meant it.

  Juniper leaned forward, trailing her hand in the water. “You leave so soon.”

  “Yeah. Three more days. I’m really gonna miss you, Juniper.”

  Juniper nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Hey, wanna bike somewhere with me real quick?”

  “I didn’t bring my bike with me.”

  “That’s okay. You can stand on my pegs, just like old times.” She smiled at him sideways. “Anyway, we’re not going far, just to the cove. I have something to show you. A piece I’ve been working on.”

  Ethan grinned despite himself. “I think that’s exactly what I need,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Go where?” a voice asked, and Ethan turned to Juniper in confusion. But she was turning too, and they both saw Noah O’Neil at the same time. Alex stood beside him, smirking.

  “Sorry,” Noah said. “Go on. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Go away, Noah.” Juniper turned back toward the lake.

  “But I haven’t heard what you thought about my uncle’s show the other night. You saw it, didn’t you?”

  “Go away, Noah,” Juniper repeated.

  Sighing, Ethan pushed himself to his feet and held a hand out to Juniper. “Come on, it’s not worth it. Let’s just go home.” He tried to push past Noah and Alex, but the boys stood tall and blocked his way. “Move it, would you?”

  “What’s the rush?” Noah asked.

  “Yeah, we’re not done yet,” Alex said.

  Ethan stared up into Noah’s eyes, his jaw tight. The thing was—for all he’d been afraid of what Noah and his friends represented, he’d never thought of Noah as a threat in and of himself. But now, standing toe to toe with him, Ethan realized that the other boy was bigger, likely stronger. And it was obvious from his easy smirk that Noah knew it too.

  Still, Ethan managed to keep his voice level as he asked, “What do you want, Noah?”

  The older boy shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. It’s just that I’ve been hearing about these adventures y’all have been taking, and I thought it’d be fun if we did one all together. Whatcha say we take a little boat ride?”

  “Yeah, I’ll pass,” Ethan said. He took Juniper’s hand and tried to push past again. This time, Noah grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “Sorry, might’ve confused you there,” he said. “That wasn
’t a question.”

  Without hesitation, Juniper dropped Ethan’s hand and tried to dodge around the boys, but Alex was faster. Though she kicked and flailed furiously, he managed to wrestle both of her arms behind her back. Ethan, who had just managed to slip past Noah, was stopped by a hand gripping his collar. The jarring halt sent him tumbling to the ground and he was breathless just long enough for Noah to get him in a headlock.

  Seeing this, Juniper shrieked—but was cut off when Alex shoved a piece of cloth into her mouth and tied it clumsily behind her head. Her eyes went wide as she struggled in vain against his grip, unable to make more than a few unintelligible, muffled sounds.

  Ethan swung his feet at Noah’s shins, but he simply laughed. Moments before Ethan, too, was gagged, he managed to let out a single, scathing syllable: “Why?”

  And then a dirty strip of fabric was blocking his speech and Noah was stepping on his heels, forcing him to walk forward. “Because,” Noah growled. “You don’t belong here.” He pulled out a length of rope from his back pocket, and Ethan saw Alex do the same. “There was only so much my uncle could do, but I didn’t think it was enough to really teach you a lesson. So I thought I’d handle things myself.”

  Noah and Alex finished their knots and shoved their captives roughly forward. It quickly became clear to Ethan that neither he nor Juniper would be able to wrestle themselves away from Noah and Alex; both boys were tall and well built, and they were fueled by a malice that swelled above them like a storm cloud. He glanced back toward Gus’s house, just visible a ways down the lake, but all the lights were out.

  “Keep it moving,” Noah barked, digging his knee into Ethan’s shin. Unable to speak, he stumbled forward, nearly collapsing onto the sand.

  All Ethan could think about was Cole Parker, hanging dead from a tree because he’d crossed a line that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Ethan had hardly done more than dare to breathe the same air as Noah O’Neil, but if he suffered the same fate, no one in Ellison would give a damn.

  Except Juniper Jones, who, at this moment, was glaring unblinkingly at Alex as he hustled her along. Her stare seemed to make him uncomfortable, and he pointedly set his jaw and averted his eyes.

  “Freak,” he muttered under his breath. They continued away from Gus’s house to where the lake curved slightly around a bend, until the beach gave way to grass and the forest closed in on the water’s edge. They were far from the docks; here, rocks rose jaggedly from the water.

  Noah and Alex stopped out of sight of the main beach, in a quiet inlet where the willows grew low on the shore. Ethan caught sight of a small wooden boat tethered to one of the trunks. He squinted at Noah, trying to determine how dire this was going to get, but the blond just leered at him. When he smiled like that, with all his teeth, he looked more shark than human.

  “Get ready, Alex,” Noah ordered, pointing to the boat. Dutifully, Alex stepped into the water in his jeans and tennis shoes, untying the boat and pushing it against the shore. Noah herded Ethan and Juniper into the craft and forced them to sit on the floor at the bow, facing each other. When their eyes met, Ethan’s heart sank to see the fear in Juniper’s eyes. He knew the same must be mirrored in his own.

  “All right, freaks,” Noah said, jumping roughly into the stern of the boat so that it shook. “Let’s go.”

  “Got the oars.” Alex climbed onto the center bench with one oar in each hand. He fitted them into the oarlocks and, with a hefty swing, began to row away from the shore.

  “Hang on tight,” he jeered.

  Ethan shifted, trying to bring the feeling back into his arms. He was sitting with his legs pulled tightly up to his chest and his left shoulder was bent behind him at a painful angle. The ropes were chafing against his wrists. His shoulder throbbed and the cloth in his mouth tasted like sweat.

  Breathing deeply through his nose, he glanced over at Juniper, who was sitting cross-legged with her head bowed. Only half of her face was illuminated by the moon, and her big blue eyes were filled with tears.

  If only they hadn’t come out to the lake, Ethan thought. He was furious with himself—he could have lived without a run, even if he never got back to sleep. If he hadn’t been here, he was sure Noah and Alex would have left Juniper alone. He looked at Juniper and tried to apologize with his eyes.

  Alex grunted with the effort of rowing as Ethan looked around, hoping for some impossible savior. The lake was empty and dark. By the time they reached the center, and Alex stopped rowing, Ethan had given up hope.

  The moon seemed suspended on a string. It should have been beautiful, but where it hung above Noah’s head, it looked ominous.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Noah said, standing again. “We’re out here in the middle of the lake. You’re gagged and bound. We could do anything we want to you right about now. But we’re gonna be nice. See, in a few, Alex and I are gonna swim to shore. And you two, well, you’re gonna stay out here in this boat until someone finds you. Maybe in the morning, but who knows where the drift will take you.”

  Noah was still talking, but Ethan had stopped listening. Over Noah and Alex’s shoulders, on the other side of the lake, was Gus’s house. And a light had just come on.

  “Pay attention!” Alex snapped. He slapped an oar against the water, splashing chilly water onto Ethan and Juniper. Juniper shivered, blinking droplets of water out of her eyes.

  “What’re you staring at, anyway?” Ethan quickly averted his eyes, but it was too late. Noah had turned, rocking the boat back and forth. “Shit,” Noah said. “We gotta go, Alex.” In Gus’s little house, all the lights had come on. Whether or not the man knew something was wrong, it was only a matter of time before he’d see the scene out his window and come to their rescue.

  “Shit,” Noah repeated, as Ethan thought, We’re saved. “Alex, go!”

  Alex scrambled to his feet, and both boys fumbled with their clothes. They managed to kick off their shirts and shoes, then Gus’s front door swung open. Alex and Noah dove over the sides of the boat and into the lake. The force of their movement sent the boat tipping onto its side and then all the way over so that Ethan and Juniper were dumped into the lake.

  Ethan let out a strangled gasp as he was hit in the face with a tongue of water, one of the benches catching him on the head. The force of it knocked the gag off his mouth. Beneath the boat, it was completely dark, and the weight of his clothes made it difficult to stay afloat, but he treaded water as best he could and tried to keep his head above the surface. Outside, he heard the sharp cuts of swimmers’ strokes growing progressively softer, and then above it—splashing. Juniper.

  “Tread!” he shouted, thrashing his arms in an attempt to get out of his bonds. He dunked his head underwater but couldn’t tell which way was which—when he surfaced again, he was still beneath the boat.

  “I’m trying!” came Juniper’s muffled voice. “The ropes—” She fell silent, but Ethan could still hear the sounds of her kicking.

  With a furious scream, Ethan strained harder against the ropes, the skin of his wrists crying out in protest. He hit his head on the side of the boat again, but finally, the sloppy knot came loose. Ethan shook his hands free, kicking furiously as he felt around for the end of the boat. Then, from outside, he heard the sound of a motor and the hiss of water being sliced by a motorboat.

  “Gus,” Ethan whispered, then louder, “I’m coming, Juniper!” He followed the sound of the motor as he dove beneath the surface again. Water flowed into his mouth and he hit his head again on the way up, then he was out at the bow of the boat, the moon above his head. At the very edge of the lake, he could see Noah and Alex just clambering to shore—but he didn’t see Juniper anywhere.

  Treading furiously, Ethan cried, “June!”

  His wrists were raw and numb, but Ethan dove forward anyway, slicing through the water as he called her name again and again. He glanced in ev
ery direction and couldn’t see her, but he called until his throat was sore and continued even then. Gus had nearly reached them now, and as Ethan searched desperately, he pointed to the other end of the boat and cried, “She’s there!”

  Ethan turned in the water, and sure enough, he saw a flash of blue in the moonlight and then, a spread of orange.

  “No,” he whispered, swimming quickly toward Juniper’s motionless form. She was sinking, but Ethan caught hold of her shirt and pulled her toward him, gathering her to his chest as he swam, one armed, to Gus’s motorboat.

  “Hold on,” he shouted at her, trying to keep her head above water. “Please, hold on!”

  “Here, here, I got her!” The older man reached over the edge to pull Juniper into the boat, and Ethan clambered in after them. His hair was flattened into his eyes and his clothes were soaked, but he didn’t notice. All he could see was Juniper, splayed out on the deck of the boat, eyes closed and lips blue. Gus knelt beside her, pushing at her chest and shouting curses and prayers to the sky.

  “Please,” Ethan breathed. “Please.” After what felt like hours, Gus leaned back from Juniper’s soaked body, turning to Ethan with haunted eyes. The whole world seemed to tilt then, as if Ethan was underwater all over again. He pushed past Gus, hearing the man’s words through a fog as he crawled toward Juniper and took her by the shoulders, shaking her.

  “Wake up!” he screamed. Gus was shouting something at him, and the boat began to move, but Ethan couldn’t understand the words. He could hardly even see. His vision was tunneling and all he could register was Juniper’s face in front of him, cold and still.

  He shook her again and still she did not move. The boat rocketed toward the shore. He let out a primal shriek. “No, Juniper. You can’t—you can’t. No. Please—” His words dissolved into sobs and his entire body shook with them. Juniper had always been a hurricane, but now Ethan felt like a natural disaster slipping across the deck of Gus’s boat. They had made it to shore. Gus leapt out to pull Juniper from the boat, but Ethan held her tight.