by Geof Johnson
“I’m not bossy.”
“Yeah, you are,” Rollie said.
“I am not bossy!”
Evelyn yelled from the back door, “Rollie, your mother called and said it’s time for you to go home.”
“Bye, guys.” Rollie hopped off and headed for home.
Jamie and Fred swung in silence for a minute or so. Finally, Fred said, “Am I bossy?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“Mm hmm.”
Fred was quiet, chewing on her lip.
“It’s okay, Fred. We’re used to it. It’s not like you’re bossy all the time.”
“Good.”
“You’re not bossy when you’re asleep.”
“That’s not funny.” Fred’s face grew troubled. “I don’t want to be bossy.”
“Maybe you can’t help it.”
She looked at Jamie forlornly. “Do you really think so?”
Jamie suddenly felt sorry for her. “I don’t know. Maybe if you really wanna change, you can.”
“Maybe you can use your magic on me.”
“I can’t change people, like, the way they are, and the way they think and feel and stuff.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but it sounded right. “I don’t think magic works that way. You have to do it yourself.”
“I don’t want people to think I’m bossy,” she said quietly.
Jamie had no idea it bothered Fred so much. “We’ll work on it,” he said cheerfully.” Then he patted her on the back. “Right now, let’s go work on Gramma’s cake. It ought to be done by now.”
Fred’s face brightened and they went inside.
Chapter 32
“We got it,” Carl said, as he set down the phone one Sunday evening in early May.
“I can’t wait to tell Lisa.” Rachel picked up the phone and walked into the other room.
“Got what?” Jamie asked.
“My dad’s cousin’s house in Florida. It’s in Ponte Vedra. Real nice vacation place. Four bedrooms, and he’s letting us have it all week for free.”
“Is Gramma coming?”
“She doesn’t like the beach. Fred’s family’s coming, though.”
“Rollie, too?”
“He can’t. He’s got vacation Bible school. It’s just us and the Callahans. But Fred’ll be there.”
“Do I get my own bedroom?”
“Oh yeah. You’re going to love it.”
* * *
It was late afternoon when they pulled into the driveway of the beach house. Jamie and Fred didn’t wait for their parents. They opened the van doors and took off to investigate.
Larry climbed out and stretched. “Nice house.”
It was a modern, two-story light brown stucco home with a Spanish tile roof, similar to the houses around it. The yard was small, but nicely landscaped, with privacy hedges all around and plenty of flowers.
Jamie ran up with Fred. “It’s right on the ocean and there are two porches in the back, one right over the other.”
“And it’s got a hammock and a patio, and wooden walkway in the back that goes right down to the beach,” Fred said.
“And it’s got an outdoor shower right there at the gate.”
“Good. Be sure to use it.” Lisa wagged a finger. “Every time you come back from the beach. We don’t want to sweep sand all week.”
“Everybody grab your bags,” Carl said, lifting his from the back of the van. Carl unlocked the front door and Jamie and Fred blew past him into the house.
“Wow.” Fred gaped.
Everyone stepped inside. Rachel said, “Wow is right.”
The upper floor was one large open area with sliding glass doors lining the back wall. Past the glass doors was a terrace with another table and chairs.
Lisa dropped her suitcase on the floor. “Look at that view.” She walked to the glass doors to see the beach beyond.
The front of the top floor was a family room, furnished with a large sectional sofa and matching recliner, modern glass shelves, and a television. The back half, set on a slightly lower level, had a long table with chairs and more glass shelves, covered with shells and other beach knick knacks.
Rachel inspected the spacious kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets. “Lisa, it looks like it’s got everything. It’s even got an electric mixer.”
“Coffee pot?” Larry asked.
“Yes. Microwave, too.” She turned slowly. “Everything. Carl, give me the van keys, please. Lisa and I are going to run to the grocery store.”
“Don’t you want to eat out?” Carl asked.
“We’ve eaten out all day,” Lisa said. “All that fast food…ugh. We want some real dinner. We’ll get something easy, like boiled shrimp.”
The kids buzzed around the house like hummingbirds. Fred bounded to Lisa. “Mom, it’s got a big bathroom and three bedrooms downstairs. They all have windows facing the beach. Jamie and I already picked ours.”
“Hold on.” Carl held up one hand. “There’s a big one down there. You didn’t pick that one, I hope.”
Fred scrunched her face.
“Lisa, you and Larry should take that one. We’ll take the upstairs room.”
“We can’t ask you to do that,” Lisa said. “It’s your relative’s house. You should have a view of the beach.”
“That’s okay,” Rachel said. “The upstairs room is a master bedroom and bath.” She smiled dreamily. “With a jacuzzi bathtub.”
Before Rachel and Lisa were out of the front door, Jamie and Fred were in their bathing suits, headed for the beach.
“Stop right there, Fred,” Lisa said. “You need sunblock.”
“This late in the day?” Rachel said.
“Oh yes. She’s got Larry’s complexion.” Lisa opened a canvas bag on the kitchen table and pulled out a tube of sunblock. “She can get sunburned just going to the mailbox.” Fred stood impatiently while Lisa covered her with lotion.
“Okay, you’re good.” Lisa patted Fred’s back. Fred and Jamie ran for the door. “One more thing, kids: there are no lifeguards, so don’t go out too far in the water.”
“How far can we go?” Fred asked. “We know how to swim.”
“Knee deep.”
“Knee deep? Mom, we’re not babies.”
“Okay, waist deep. But be careful.”
* * *
Jamie and Fred flew down the wooden walk and hit the beach running, racing to the water’s edge, startling a group of gulls into flight. They continued running in the wet sand.
Jamie pointed at the gulls. “I could catch ’em if nobody was looking. I could fly like this.” He spread his arms as they ran.
“Don’t!” Fred said.
“I’m not. I’m just saying I could.” They stopped and walked out ankle deep in the water.
“Look.” Jamie pointed at the water. “Fish.”
Small silver shapes could be seen swimming back to the deeper water in a retreating wave. He ran after one and reached into the water for it, but it escaped. Fred joined the hunt. “I want to catch one.”
“Hold still.” Jamie held his hands out, and after a moment, a few of the skittish fish began to circle Fred, gradually swimming closer.
“They tickle.” She smiled, bending her knees, dragging her fingers through the water. “I want to hold one.”
“Make a bowl out of your hands just under the surface.”
As Fred squatted in the water, the fish darted away, only to return. A brave one swam into her hands. Fred giggled like a little girl.
“Don’t pick her out of the water, just let her swim there for a minute.”
After a moment, Fred stood and shook the water off. “That was cool.” Then she bent down, cupped a handful of water and splashed Jamie.
“Hey!” he said, bending down to retaliate, but Fred had backed out of reach.
She turned her back to let a wave pass by and Jamie said, “Remember, not too far out.”
“It’s only waist deep,” she said, th
en lay back and did a few backstrokes away from Jamie.
Jamie took a few steps to follow her, but had to turn to let a wave splash against his back. When he turned around, Fred was 20 yards away in deeper water.
“Fred, you’re too far.”
“I can still touch bottom.”
“It’s way past your waist.” He could feel the strong outward tug of the current.
“It’s great. Come on, Jamie.” She leaned forward and swam parallel to the shore, but seemed to be drifting farther out.
“Fred, I don’t like it. Come back in.”
Fred stopped. “Oh, I can’t touch bottom.” She took a few strokes toward shore, right as a wave swept by, obscuring her for a moment. When it passed, she was even farther out. “Jamie!”
“Swim harder, Fred!”
Fred tried to swim toward him, but made no headway, and when the next wave went by, she was dangerously far away.
“Jamie, help!”
Fred thrashed mightily, but was steadily moving away from shore.
“Do something!” she shrieked. “Jamie, hurry!”
Jamie needed to do something fast. There was no time to get help. There were no adults in sight, and there wasn’t time to run back to the house.
Fred could drown.
Suddenly, Jamie remembered the Walter the Wizard book, where Walter made a magic rope to save the knight. But Jamie knew, unlike the book, the rope had to be made of something. Magic had no substance of its own.
What can I make it out of? Sand.
“Jamie!” Fred screamed.
Jamie used his will to pull sand from the bottom into one hand, forced it into a flexible rope shape, and stretched it out with the other. After a few seconds, he only had about two feet of rope, and it felt strange in his hands.
Why did I use sand? It’s going to be too stiff and heavy. Don’t bind it too tight or it won’t flex.
He looked up to see Fred go under a wave. He needed to work faster. He looked at the length of sand-rope and thought duplicate. The rope doubled in length, but still far too short. Duplicate, he thought again and again, looking up between thoughts to judge the distance. Fred was now at least 50 yards away.
When he thought the rope was long enough, he yelled, “Fred, grab this,” and twirled it over his head like a cowboy with a lariat. He released it in Fred’s direction and pushed it with his will until it splashed right in front of her. She grabbed it before it sank and Jamie felt it grow taut. He set his feet in the sandy bottom and pulled, hand over hand, slowly reeling Fred in like a red-headed mermaid caught on a fisherman’s line.
It was hard work. He had to use his will to maintain the shape of the rope, and pulling against the current was difficult. Fred drew closer — 45 yards, then 40. Jamie pulled, ignoring the growing pain in his shoulders. The abrasive sand hurt his hands, too. 35 yards, then 30. Even when Fred was in close enough to touch bottom, he pulled. 20 yards, 10. She was pulling hand over hand, too, and when she was within reach, he released his will and the rope, and it dissolved and sank.
Fred threw herself onto him and wrapped her arms and legs around him in a fierce bear hug, sobbing uncontrollably.
* * *
Carrying a couple of towels, Rachel stepped off the wooden walk onto the beach and scanned the shore for the kids. It was time to eat. To her right, she saw only adults and small children. To her left, about 75 yards away, she saw a solitary, large figure. As she jogged toward it, she could make out Fred’s distinctive hair.
Fred was hugging Jamie. Oh, that’s so sweet! I wish Lisa could see them.
When she was within earshot, Fred slid off Jamie and they walked toward Rachel.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Are you hungry?” Rachel said.
“Yes ma’am,” Jamie said.
“Lisa and I bought a couple of body boards for you.”
“What are those?”
“They’re like little surfboards that you lie on and ride the waves. It looks like fun.”
“Yeah, fun,” Fred said unenthusiastically.
“Don’t listen to her,” Jamie said. “She just got smashed by a big wave.”
“Fred, why are your eyes red?” Rachel asked.
“I, um, opened my eyes underwater.”
“Oh.” She handed a towel to each of them. “You can eat in your bathing suits if you want. We’re having dinner on the terrace.”
* * *
It was nearly dark when they finished eating, and Rachel and Lisa sent the kids to the showers with promises of plenty of television if they made it quick. Carl and Larry offered to clear the table and wash the dishes, but they were procrastinating for a bit, enjoying the last of the light and the nice breeze. Rachel related what she saw on the beach.
“I wish I could’ve seen them,” Lisa said. “That’s so sweet.”
“That’s what I thought,” Rachel said. “They really do love each other.”
“Hold on, now.” Carl folded his hands in his lap. “They’re only eleven years old.”
“They’re almost twelve.”
“Still, before you go making their wedding plans, maybe you should consider that there’s another explanation.”
“Carl, don’t be so unromantic.” Rachel frowned.
“I agree with Carl.” Larry nodded. “There’s Jamie now.” He pointed inside, where you could see Jamie through the glass doors, already in his pajamas. “Let’s ask him.”
Carl opened one of the doors and called Jamie out to the patio.
“Jamie,” Rachel said, “when I went down to the beach a while ago, I saw you and Fred having the sweetest hug.”
“Oh, that.” Jamie shrugged. “Fred thought she saw a shark and got all scared. She gets real emotional sometimes.”
“Oh. “I thought —”
“She didn’t really see one, in case you were wondering.”
“Okay. Well, you can go watch TV if you want.”
Carl smiled behind his hand and Larry stared at the sky, whistling tunelessly.
Jamie closed the door behind him. Lisa said, “Well, I still think it was sweet.”
“That may be so,” Larry said, “But I don’t think you should be ordering Fred’s prom dress just yet.”
* * *
The wave smashed Jamie and Fred off of their body boards, roiled and twirled them in the churning vortex near the bottom, and spit them out near the shore.
Fred screamed, “That was a good one!”
“I might’ve overdone it just a little,” Jamie said, picking up his board. The waves weren’t big that day, so Jamie helped them out with his magic. “Let’s get something to drink.”
They walked toward the beach umbrella where their parents had been lounging all morning. Fred said, “Let’s not let my dad back on a board. He looks like such a doofus.”
When they reached their parents, Larry said, “Why do the big waves always come when you two are out there?”
“I dunno.” Fred shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
* * *
The next morning, Lisa and Rachel helped Fred pick out her outfit.
“No, Fred, you can’t wear a tank top.” Lisa frowned. “Your shoulders have gotten way too much sun already.”
“We’re not going to the beach, Mom,” Fred said.
“But we’re going to be walking around in the sun in St. Augustine.”
“Here, Fred, how about this?” Rachel laid out a white tee shirt and shorts. “You can wear the white floppy hat and white sandals with it.”
“And these white-rimmed sunglasses,” Lisa said.
Fred slipped on the shorts and shirt, then the sandals. She put the hat and sunglasses on, looked in the mirror, and gave her approval.
“Hold on.” Rachel pulled her phone out of her purse. “Let’s take a picture and send it to my mom.
Fred posed and Rachel snapped the photo.
“Too cute,” Rachel said, tapping and sending the photo.
“I want to send it to Gina,” Fred
said.
Rachel handed her the phone. “You know her cell phone number?”
Fred tapped out the number. “Yes ma’am, don’t you? I call her all the time.”
“I don’t know it by heart. What do you two talk about?”
“Stuff.”
“Stuff?” Lisa asked, both mothers looking at Fred.
“Girl stuff.”
Lisa looked at Rachel and shrugged.
* * *
After touring the Castillo de San Marcos, the two families walked to St. George Street in the historic section of St. Augustine and ate lunch at a café with outdoor seating.
“I love this place,” Lisa said, leaning back in her chair at their little round table, watching the tourists stroll by. “It’s crazy, with all these people wandering around.”
“I like the street musicians.” Larry put his napkin on the remains of his lunch.
Rachel pointed down the street. “There’s something going on over there. Let’s go see.” They got closer and saw that a small crowd had gathered around a street performer.
“I think it’s a magician,” Jamie said.
They worked their way near the front of the crowd and saw a tall young man with long black hair, standing behind a table, with a hat for tips on the ground in front of him. They watched him perform for a few minutes.
Lisa scowled. “I don’t like this guy. He’s obnoxious.”
“That comment he made about women not getting it — that was uncalled for,” Rachel said.
The magician called out, “For my next trick, I will take three ordinary plastic cups….”
Fred nudged Jamie. “That’s your trick.”
“I need a volunteer from the audience.”
“He’s gonna hide the rubber ball in his hand,” Jamie said. “Go up there, Fred.”
“How will I know which hand?”
“I’ll say red if it’s right, Lucy if it’s left. Go!” He gave Fred a little push and she stepped forward.
“Ah, a lovely volunteer,” the magician said. He placed a rubber ball under one of the three cups, which were upside down on a table. “Keep your eye on the cup with the ball.” He moved the cups around quickly for a moment and stopped. “Okay, where is the ball?”
“Red,” Jamie said.
Fred pointed to the magician’s right hand.
“You’re confused, Little Missy. Which cup?”
