Death and Love at the Old Summer Camp

by Dolores Maggiore

  “Do you think girls can love each other?” Katie wore a look I couldn’t figure out.

  I said, “You mean, like love?”

  “Yeah, don’t we?” said Katie.

  I was beginning to think too much. I thought I knew what Katie meant, and my mind started to race again. Did she mean love, marriage, and touching or just best friend/family love?

  Then, like magic, there was a distraction. There, sticking out of the broken molding was a crumpled piece of paper.

  “Look!”

  “I can get it with this stick. Here, read it,” Katie said, flicking it over to me.

  “There’s crayon on it. Something like ‘pecker.’ Wait. ‘Tonight’ and that’s ‘cut it’. Holy cow! I think I got it: ‘Watch Butch lose his pecker. We’ll cut it off tonight.’”

  “Let me see,” said Katie. “It’s signed – Just a square. Oh God. The square again.”

  “I feel a little bit…”

  “Are you going to sleep?” Katie shook my arm, trying to keep me with her.

  “Maybe. Just stay with me…Billy?”

  “No, Pina, wake up. Wake up!”

  “I’m tired of being poked,” said Billy. “I’m scared.”

  “Tell someone,” said Wolfie.

  “Tell? He’ll kill me.”

  “Or they’ll kill him.”

  “I hate myself,” said Billy.

  “Hey, twerps! No need to hate yourselves, leave it to us big guys. Ha! Death by tickling!” Kevin and Peter entered the room, laughing.

  Kevin ruffled Billy’s hair. “What’s up, half pint?”

  “Yes, tell us older, wiser ones. Kind of like confession,” said Peter.

  “Now you guys are going to bug me too?” said Billy, scooting away from the older guys.

  “Who else is bugging you? Or…buggering you?” Kevin asked.

  Peter slapped Kevin on the back. “Leave him alone.”

  “Hey, you two. What are you doing hanging with the little ones?” said Ron.

  “Shush, Ron, someone’s got Billy for real,” said Wolfie.

  Ron rattled the cubicle, “Who’s in there?

  “Whoa! It’s just me, Joe Gallo, minding my business.” Joe pushed the door open. “Where is the little guy anyway?”

  A soft, crying voice warbled from inside another cubicle. “Maybe I am just a wanker like he said, a stupid willy…and I peed. I peed. I’m all warm and wet. Let me go. Let me go.”

  Katie’s voice had broken into my dream at this point.

  “Pina, you didn’t pee. It’s wet from the rain; wake up. You’re not Billy.”

  “I’m so wet,” I said.

  I had come to, wet and cold and confused as all get out. This dream was different from the rest. At least nobody got hurt. I gave Katie all the new names and the old. At least her dad seemed to be a good guy in this one, and I told her as much.

  We washed my face and dried it with parts of my shirt that was dry. We spent another fifteen minutes reading the walls to see if we could locate some of these names.

  Then, I heard Katie way over in the far corner. She just mumbled, “Holy cow!” over and over. I joined her, and now both of us gaped at the light pencil drawing of a square and above it in bold letters, “Don’t be a square” and below it “Be one (Pete) to know one (Kev) (Joe).”

  “Jeez! Katie,” I clapped my hands, “we got it!”

  “My father, Bud, Pete, Kevin, and Joe were ‘squares’!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  GOING TO THE TEMPLE

  Doc caught us trying to sneak back into the cabin, dripping wet. He exploded, “Where in the name of the good Lord have you two been?”

  “Well, you see, in the main house…Monopoly,” said Katie.

  “Don’t give me any of that malarkey. You two were told to stay put.”

  “Dad, don’t be mad. We want to ask you about some names.”

  Katie and I had decided to ask her father about some of the new names I’d overheard in my dream, like Joe Gallo, Peter, and Kevin.

  “What the dickens? This better be good.”

  “Well, you must know Joe, Peter, and Kevin?” Katie was obviously eager to clear her dad.

  “Joe, he’s Regina’s brother. The others are also from camp. Friends of mine.” Doc was still barking. “There was a little wimpy kid who kind of went crazy at the end of camp.” Doc paused a sec and then really started to bellow, “But God dammit! I told you two to leave it. Don’t bother me with this crap now!”

  We clammed up about the note. We had had enough for one day and quietly asked if we could stay put together. After dinner, we brought popcorn and comic books and Seventeen to bed. Snuggling under the old Bean’s blanket with the green, red, and black stripes felt safe, and falling asleep in Katie’s arms was a delight.

  First light sneaking in through the gauze curtains roused me long before I got up. Still wrapped up in Katie’s arms, I wanted to make that moment last as long as possible. Why couldn’t this be an endless summer?

  I knew there would be other summers, just as there had been these last nine years. But we were no longer kids, and I wasn’t positive whether Katie’s declaration of love from yesterday was only sisterly. What I was feeling was no longer best-buddy mutual admiration. Everything was different now.

  I mean we never kissed on the lips. I didn’t dare. But I wanted to, I really did. What would that mean? How could I leave her at the end of summer, and not see her again for a whole year? Too much could change while we were apart.

  She’d meet other girls at the Albert Academy, where she’d be attending school next year. Lots of girls, much smarter and cooler than me. She’d have a roommate. She’d really fall in love. Maybe even with a guy from Phillips Exeter. Crap! I had to talk to her before it was too late. Just not yet. I wasn’t brave enough yet.

  I crept out of the cabin so as not to wake her. I couldn’t face her yet. The dew wet my pants and every part of me that touched a leaf, a plant, a piece of wood, a blade of grass. Through the still-shaded woods, my nostrils filled with the fresh, crisp air. I felt clean and innocent and ran all the way from the road down through the damp pine needles, my feet slipping out from under me so that I slid the rest of the way across the damp sand on my bottom. I passed other cabins along my way, but all was quiet. Everyone was still sleeping.

  Someone had left the aluminum canoe upside down on the short wooden-plank guest dock. The canoe was bone-chillingly cold and wet, but I jumped in anyway. The canoe was unstable under my solitary weight, and I sat quickly as the boat wobbled and waggled. I really didn’t want to go for a dip in this morning-cold water. I didn’t paddle, just let the canoe drift across the water. I lay on my back, the uncomfortable seam of the canoe digging into my spine, and let my eyelids flutter open and shut. I snuck peeks at the clouds; there was a lamb, no an angel, or a unicorn.

  I just wanted everything to be pretty and light and cozy, like cotton candy holding me or down feathers from my pillow and comforter, all showering down on me. Soft and cool, gentle and soothing. I could tiptoe on clouds, dance upside down, be silly, and imagine all sorts of things that didn’t hurt anyone. No one would know, and no one would care. I just laid down on that crummy seam and pulled the tarp over me. There was no wind. I was safe to float.

  Everything turned white and feathery. There were chickens and turkeys all over. I was dressed in white, a long, white, confirmation-like gown. There was a long aisle, and then penguins. The noise was strange, like clucking or clapping, and I realized they were applauding me as I walked down the aisle, flowing and swishing towards? Towards? A rabbi? I could see his phylactery around his forearm.

  He was calling me, but I wasn’t alone. I realized Katie was also there, all in white, and she had feathers in her hair, and she smiled so sweetly at me. The rabbi was smiling too, and he said something about the hoopah and pointed to the canopy over our heads. I thought he meant a hoopoe bird because of all the fowl. He asked me about rings, and Katie had cigar ban
ds in her hands. Our nails were shaped and polished clear; we held hands. We went back down the long, dark aisle, walking towards a shaft of sunlight that entered through a doorway at the end of the room.

  Something was gritty underfoot, and outside was a big sign “Carnal’s Poultry Farm and Slaughter. Carnal’s, which one’s best? Carnal’s outdoes the rest.”

  I heard no more turkeys, but dribs and drabs of Havah Na Guila and The Hawaiian Wedding Song. I could see people asking to kiss the bride. Someone toasted with spritzy stuff, champagne-like, and we laughed and laughed. We were sopping wet with wine trickling into our eyes and mouths as we hugged, laughed, and cried. Katie asked me if we had died and this was heaven.

  I said, “No, just Greenwich Village.”

  “But,” she said, “did they sacrifice us? Like communion with wine?”

  “No,” I said again. “It’s just Greenwich Village, and we got married.”

  I was drenched. My gown clung to me, and the music had changed to a horn, a car horn or foghorn. NYPD was shaking me. They were arresting me for lewd behavior and telling me to come to my senses.

  My eyes opened on the uniform of the local game warden, shaking my very wet body. Seems the spray of a motorboat got me, and when the boater realized I was motionless at the bottom of the canoe, he got the game warden. After a great fuss, I told him I was a guest at Owl Lake and that I had just fallen asleep in the canoe. He towed me back just to make sure.

  I just wanted to be alone to get back to my dream. How much would I tell Katie? I wanted to share it with her, but I just wasn’t ready.

  Chapter Twenty

  MIND READING

  I couldn’t wait to find Katie. I bolted from the beached canoe and tore up the hill, still full of images of our wedding. There she was, sitting on her porch looking very real. She looked as if she had just stepped out of a shower, all crisp and clean in white pedal pushers and a blue striped top. A few strands of her hair blew gently by her cheek.

  “What’cha doin’?” I asked. I knew she hadn’t attended our wedding the way I did.

  “Had to babysit my mother. When Dad’s with his friends, she really latches on to me.”

  “Missed ya.”

  I felt my face turn a darker shade of fuchsia as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Pretending to be casual, I swung myself into a chair next to Katie.

  “Any more dreams?” Katie asked.

  Did she know about our wedding? A curtain of fear crept over my face. It was such a beautiful dream, but I didn’t want to tell her about it yet.

  “Come on, all of a sudden you don’t dream?” Katie paused a second and asked, “How could you make a dream happen?”

  “Do you mean do dreams come true?” I said.

  “No, I mean, could we make you dream about who killed Butch?”

  “Never tried that…”

  Jeez! I don’t want to dream about Butch.

  “Could we try? If it gets too scary, I would wake you up.”

  I was definitely nervous to force a dream about Butch and the attack, but if I could control my dreams, then I could dream about Katie, a wedding, and a honeymoon whenever I wanted.

  “Okay, let’s go to the shooting range.” Was I crazy? No. I needed to know what happened with Butch, and this might help.

  Plus, the shooting range was always a place of strength for me. Katie and I loved to collect the leftover shell casings from the hill behind the suspended targets. We treasured the shells we gathered, fascinated by the power they gave us. A kind of might makes right. They filled us with some sort of…lust? We always looked older and wiser, almost women, when leaving that strange place. Plus, Katie was my dream woman.

  “Where’d you go? Hey! What if they shot him?” said Katie, calling me out of my reverie.

  “Now you want me to get shot?” Even the thought of that kind of pain made me tense up.

  “No, I want you to see Butch’s killer.”

  “So I should lie down? Then we’ll say, ‘Dream Pina, oh dream of being killed so you can see who murdered you.’”

  “Well, how did it happen before?”

  “Dunno, just did,” I snapped back.

  “You angry?” Katie squinted at me.

  “I just liked it better when you didn’t think I was weird.”

  “I don’t think you’re weird. I…uh…think you’re special, like you know things. Maybe you even know what I’m thinking. I don’t know. That’s kind of scary too. So then you know I don’t think you’re weird, and you know you’re my best friend and all that.”

  “You think I can read your mind?”

  Both of us were thinking the same thing, fear of what the other might know. So what is she afraid I’ll know, that she likes me the way I like her?

  “I don’t know!” said Katie.

  Wow! She sounded kind of ticked off. I wrapped my arm clumsily around her shoulder as we got up from her porch to go to the shooting range.

  “Oh Katie,” I stammered, trying not to say too much, “I sort of can tell you want us to be a…team…a great team, right?”

  “Yeah…right.”

  Now, I definitely couldn’t tell what Katie was thinking. Her voice trailed off, flat and unconvincing. She squeezed my shoulder once, twisted away from my hold, and pushed the screen door open with the flat of her hand.

  Once we arrived at the steps to the shooting range at water’s edge, I climbed up into the raised gallery and lay down on the slimy, green bench. Lagging behind, Katie barely touched the rungs of the broken ladder with her fingertips, complaining of the green gunk all the way up. I looked up from my bench to see part of the sky peeking through the rafters and spiders.

  “I’m going to put my web around you.” I laughed, swiping my finger through a cobweb and brandishing it at Katie.

  “Stop!” Katie poked at my shoulder. “Let’s get started, it’s time for you to dream now.”

  I wiped my webby hand off on my shorts and rolled over so that I was face down on the bench.

  “Do I have my hands? Am I Butch or Regina?”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “No, but…I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Okay? So try to imagine, before your hands got cut off. Who is holding the knife, and do you hurt anyplace else? Here, I’ll massage your temples and dangle this locket. You’re getting sleepy…”

  Hmm. I loved her soothing hands on my face. No, I’m not in a state to see Butch, or Regina, or anybody…except Katie.

  “I think you’re sleeping.”

  Maybe I can pretend. I didn’t want her to stop touching me.

  “Pina, are you really asleep? I know you can’t resist tickling. Wake up!” Katie played coochie-coo on my side. I lay mute…for a while. Then other sensations began to trickle in.

  “My hands! Help! Gotta get the blood off. Rip the skin off!”

  I frantically rubbed and wiped my hands on my shorts. They were so sticky. I tumbled off the shooting gallery, falling and tripping the last few feet to water’s edge, rubbing my hands against the shells and rocks. They were still dirty. I couldn’t get it off. I ran towards the water. The voices…I’m here, Butch. It’s Billy. I hear you. I can see you down there. The clean water is down there. I’m coming down. I’ll just dive. How far…

  I was awake for just a second and then not. Katie’s arm was around me. I no longer knew which dream I was in. I was wet. She kept on telling me not to fight her. Fight? She had her arm around my throat. I struggled to get free. I swallowed a lot of water. She slapped me and said she could swim for both of us. I started to lie back. I thought I was drowning. I kept on hearing her voice say she would save me…save me…save me. But I was gone again.

  Leave me. I’ve gotta go back. They’re still dirty. The only clean water is down there.

  “Pina, stop!”

  Somebody hit me. It was Katie. Katie?

  Right. It was a dream. I snapped awake. Katie had dragged me out of the lake. I must have said I w
as Billy. I couldn’t remember.

  “Billy? You’re Pina, not Billy,” Katie said.

  “Yeah. Why am I wet? Was I the killer? Tell me! I remember…my hands. They were attached.”

  “You weren’t Butch. I think you were Billy, and you thought you saw Butch in the water, down deep, ‘where the clean water was.’” Katie continued. “You know, I overheard my dad say something to Bud or someone that Billy kind of went crazy at the end of camp and almost drowned. Well, you were acting really crazy, and you could have drowned.”

  “You saved me?”

  “I guess I did.” Katie’s chest started to heave, and her eyes grew wet.

  “Don’t cry,” I said. “I don’t want to die.” I tapped my chest. “Me, Pina, I don’t want to die.”

  We held each other, wet with salty tears, sopping with stinky, sea weedy water. I rested my head on Katie’s shoulder. After a while, I rubbed my face to try and clear my mind.

  “Kat…” I blew out some stinky breath, “Maybe we should let the adults take over. I’m just scaring you…and me.”

  “But Pina, we’ve got the answer! It’s Billy; it’s got to be. He’s the murderer. We can’t quit now.” Katie shook me.

  “No, no way! He’s just a wimp. He could never—”

  “Whoa! Butch bullied him, no, I mean Roger…well, Billy was bullied so long and maybe more. He hated himself. He said so in your dream. He must have snapped.” Katie was shaking. “If I were Billy, I’d want to kill…Roger…?”

  “Wait…who?” I asked.

  “Roger, right? Oh man, Pina, there are two bad guys.” Katie’s voice echoed up and down the lake’s channel as she did a victory dance.

  “Yeah. Butch and Roger, but I think we gotta go back to the latrine,” I said.

  “What happened to saying we’ve gotta let the adults finish this?” Katie imitated my earlier whiny voice.

  “This part probably isn’t dangerous. Besides, with you there to massage and hypnotize me—”

  “I didn’t.”