When Doc spoke, his voice was low but severe, “Dammit, I didn’t touch Butch.”
Katie started to run up to her father, stopped abruptly in her tracks. She had a conflicted look on her face, and I wondered if she was remembering the strange encounter we had witnessed between Doc and Joe Gallo. We were all definitely going to have that big conversation soon, get the facts out in the open.
I gave Doc the gentlest look I could muster and said, “Dr. McGuilvry, we know for sure you’re not guilty.”
I told Doc it was a long story, but that we knew he was innocent. “I dreamt about the night Butch was killed. I was Billy in the dream, and we were saying we had to keep you out of it.”
“Who? How do you know for sure they were talking about me?” Doc asked.
“They said Ron.”
“Who said?”
“The voices…Kevin and Peter. I didn’t see faces, but I’m pretty sure it was them. They said things like, ‘the others are out cold,’ and that they had used ‘Peter’s stuff’ and that it had really ‘worked.’ Then Katie and I found a paper marked ‘sleeping powder invented by Peter’ in the old science cabin.”
Katie picked up where I had left off. “And Pina saw the fire and the sheets and the masks, and we know Roger was really bullying Billy.” Katie said. “Dad, what is it?”
Katie’s dad had a thoughtful, far-off look on his face, “You mentioned Roger…what did these voices say about Roger?”
“They said something about how Billy owed Kevin and Peter and Wolfgang for keeping Roger away from him.”
“And Roger and Butch?” Doc’s voice was thunderous.
“Are you angry with us? We proved you didn’t do it,” Katie said to her father, sounding a bit put out.
“Puzzled. Just puzzled.” But Doc seemed different now that we’d told him our secrets, like gone in a way. Something else was definitely on his mind, and I knew we had put it there. I was scared, not that he might be angry with us. I was afraid we had made things worse than they already were by dragging up all this messy stuff from the past.
I started to feel sick. I was on a roller coaster today. First, I got the best news I could possibly ever get: Katie and I would be together. Magic happened! I was at the top of the world. Then, I was reminded of the hellhole my dreams had dragged everyone into, especially Doc, my benefactor.
Would any of us be in this mess if it weren’t for my dreams? Maybe they really were devilish.
Chapter Twenty-Five
TRUE CONFESSIONS
After our conversation, Dr. McGuilvry slinked away to make phone calls. Katie and I were really getting good at tailing him. We passed behind the dining hall so Doc wouldn’t see us as he walked in front. We followed him past the main house and the old carriage house, and even got down on our knees to crawl along the base of the screen porch, where Joe was lounging in an Adirondack chair.
We overheard Doc’s voice, “Joe, listen. I need to know everything you remember about Roger.”
“What is this…jealousy or protection twenty years too late?”
“No, no. It’s hard to explain, but Roger may have had something to do with Butch.”
“I don’t think Roger was exactly Butch’s type. Wrong gender to start with.”
“Just think about it and come see me later. I’ve got to get back to the girls.” Doc paused for a moment. “I am sorry.”
“What?” Joe sounded really surprised.
“I really didn’t understand.”
“Ron, let it go.”
“I did care.”
“Twenty years ago.”
“I do care, Joe.”
Katie’s face scrunched up. I wondered, too, just how much Doc cared, but we had to sneak back to the cabin before Katie’s father beat us there. We made it back in plenty of time to smooth our hair and settle in the easy chairs. Doc came into the heated sitting room, carrying our logbook as well as the breakfast we had all skipped.
Katie, Doc, and I nibbled on muffins as we paged through the log.
“Pina, what can you tell me about your dreams? It’s important that you give me every detail,” Doc said.
“Well, I already told a lot of this to Katie, but…one of my first dreams was in the boys’ latrine. I saw Roger. He was a tall guy, and he was pressing Billy up against the wall. Kind of…uh, pressing into him. Billy was crying. Saying he wouldn’t tell. Then, another big guy with a deep voice came in and yelled for Roger to stop bothering little kids.”
“Go on. I know it’s scary,” said Doc.
“It seemed real scary when I dreamt it. Like Roger and the other guy were going to fight. Roger was…real vulgar. He called the other guy ‘stud’ and said he thought he would be too busy ‘balling chickies.’” I blushed. “Sorry, those were his words. Do you think that was Butch? He was real smooth, real cocky. But he did protect Billy.” I took in a sharp breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“You’re doing great, Pina. Perhaps it was Butch,” said Doc.
“Should we make Pina dream?” Katie asked, “Dad, what would be helpful to know?” Katie seemed to be going back and forth, once angry with her father for all his secrets and then wanting to help him.
“Are you willing to try this? To let me hypnotize you?” Doc asked me.
“Well…I guess so. You’re the doctor, anyway. If anything bad happens to me, you could save me.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen,” Doc promised, “Here, lie down here and look at me. Okay. Good. Follow my finger. Okay?”
“Yup,” I said.
“Can you feel the heat of the fire?”
“Mmm. Sort of.”
“Keep your eyes closed. See the oranges and the reds, smell the pine and the smoke…”
“Yes. I hear the crackling.”
“Good. Anything else?”
Doc’s full head of white hair clouded over, no part, no strands, just a flat white surface. It moved and wrinkled. I pulled at my white shirt…no, something white. A sheet. I pulled it away from me, asking if I had to wear it. I was so hot. It stuck to me, and I couldn’t breathe very well. Sweat dripped down my face and into my eyes. I couldn’t see. It felt like my face was in a funeral mask. Then, I heard voices, low and gravelly, and sliding footsteps.
One voice said, “What’s that? I hear something over there.”
Another voice, “Who’s got the knife? And the tools? Peter?”
“Shut up! Ssh, really. There’s Butch. Get him!” said several voices.
Screams, I heard screams, and a slow scuffle. I smelled sweat, and felt pulled into the middle of a huddle. Hot bodies towered above me. I was going down between crotches and knees.
Voices said, “You, you’re gonna lose it. We’ll cut your balls off.”
One shrill voice said, “Who’s that? Give me back the knife, you mongrel. Whose balls?”
“Don’t you dare run off. You’ve got work to do, Billy Boy,” a crazed voice said.
Then blood curdling screams.
“No, no I won’t! Don’t touch me! I need to tell. Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me. Don’t, don’t.”
I knew I was coming back. I knew I had been dreaming or hypnotized this time. Still, I thrashed and clawed my way awake.
“Pina, you’re here with me, Doc McGuilvry and Katie. Wake up. That’s it, that’s it. You’re okay. I’ll hold you. Do you know where you are?”
“Yes, sort of,” I answered, my voice trembling, “That was too horrible.”
Doc and Katie eased me back into consciousness, then gave me a moment alone. I was lying on the divan in the sitting room. I was exhausted and a bit scared. This time, though, it wasn’t the mere fact that I was dreaming, that I’d had these visions, that made me feel crazed. This time, it was the knowledge I’d gained in the dream that terrified me. I was starting to piece it all together, but I wasn’t totally clear-headed. My ribs felt a bit bruised and my hands real achy, as if I’d been twisting a trowel or unscrewing a stubborn pickle jar lid.
Still, for the first time, a part of me felt strangely good. Maybe I had an important job to do. Maybe my dreaming had to happen, as if it was my responsibility, now, as I got older. It wouldn’t rule my life. I’d have to see if I could control it.
After fifteen minutes or so, Katie came back into the sitting room and sat by me. By now, I was sitting up and really craving sweets. Doc had left the cabin with the same thoughtful look on his face, promising to get us ice cream.
He came back with spoons and bowls under his sturdy arm, his hand clasping the sweating gallon container against his chest. He scrambled a bit to balance his load as he tried to open the door. I laughed at the sight of this tall and dignified man with a woman’s apron around his middle. The momentary relief from all this cloak and dagger stuff felt really good and safe.
“So here’s a couple of bowls of butter crunch,” Doc said, as he finished scooping our ice cream. The half-melted liquid was dribbled on his apron and down the sides of the bowls.
“Thanks, Dad,” Katie said.
“Doctor, I think I was Billy in this one,” I told him.
“Go slow.”
“I kept on thinking we should stop. Not my dream, but what was happening. Billy wanted to stop it.”
I was feeling much more together, much clearer after my rest and the sugar from the ice cream.
I kept recounting for Doc. “All those guys, your friends, had gathered supposedly to scare Butch. Peter held the knife to threaten Butch, when someone else, I think Roger, came on the scene. I think Butch pried the knife out of Peter’s hands and swung at Roger. Roger got cut, just a little prick really…a small gash. He was wearing a plaid shirt. Then…I think Roger and Butch struggled for the knife, and Butch fell.”
I continued to describe the dream. Roger was like a wild man, a monster. His eyes were red, and he was impossibly strong. My voice sounded like it was getting smaller and smaller. I felt tiny, like I was in an Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland scene. I was beginning to shrink into a tiny dot way back behind my eyes and somewhere deep in my chest.
I dug my nails into my palms to stop this feeling of fading to ground myself back in the real world. I was okay. I could do this.
I continued summing up the rest of my dream for Doc. Roger, the madman, stabbed Butch dead. He turned on the other guys, threatened them. Demanded they start cutting off Butch’s hands. He was going to dismember the body, cut it into tiny pieces and scatter them so they wouldn’t be found. Peter, Kevin, and Wolfie managed to break free. They tried to pull me, pull Billy, away with them, but Roger was too fast. That’s where the dream goes black. I felt like I was dead. I think Billy is dead.
“That’s it, Doc,” I said.
“No more. I’ll sit with you two for a while, but I just want you to rest. No chatting. I’m shutting the shades. Understood, girls?”
Chapter Twenty-six
MORE TRUE CONFESSIONS
Katie and I slept until after lunch. We picked at some snacks and then we were ready for some air.
We were just leaving her cabin, wanting to sit out in the sun and bake, when we saw someone approaching. It was Joe, looking really handsome in a British tennis sweater, the real kind, and white linen slacks.
We had to figure out a plan quickly. Katie’s mom was probably playing Bridge or listening to Lara Scatterwahl, an old New Englander, play the piano in the main lodge. Since Joe was coming towards the dining hall, he had probably seen Doc hitting a few balls with the machine on the tennis court in front of the hall. They would probably come back here.
We dropped down off the stoop to find our dugout under the cabin porch. It was a quiet day; there were no lawnmowers going, and no one was lining the tennis court. Sound would be perfect. We knew they wouldn’t go into the sitting room and risk not seeing Catherine, Katie’s mom, if she came along the path.
I braced myself. When was I going to find the courage to talk to Katie? What was going on between her father and Joe had obvious consequences for Katie and me. I was sweating as much with anticipation as with the closeness. There was barely enough vertical space under the floorboards to sit up.
Within a few minutes, we heard their footsteps above our heads. Two men starting speaking: Doc and Joe. They shared memories, saying it was painful, but necessary. Doc admitted that he had had his head in the sand in those days and didn’t know kids were being bullied and preyed upon, nor did he have any idea Butch was hitting on Regina, Joe’s sister. He sounded kind of pathetic, like he was hiding from himself.
Doc continued, “You and Kevin and Peter protected me. You kept the dark side of things away from me. But I guess I blamed myself. Your sister was gorgeous, and I think she loved me. She wanted me, and couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t touch her. She just thought I was too Catholic.”
“Do I want to know this? Spare me the details,” Joe said.
“Yes, you do, Joe. I was confused. I liked her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I had no appetite for…dammit, Joe, I had no sexual urge for her or any girl.”
“Some of us mature later.”
“Enough sarcasm. I had a feeling Butch was hitting on her. At least maybe someone would get her excited.”
“And you?”
“Joe, that time.”
“What time?” said Joe.
“C’mon, you know, that time we snuck out late in the canoe and went to the island. You helped me out of the canoe and touched my side. I got so excited. I joked how you were so much the gentleman, and I…hugged you.” Doc said.
“Oh, that time? Yes, I remember. I hugged you back, then I kissed you, and you were hard. I could feel it.”
“We fell over into the sand. We snuggled for hours, until almost dawn.”
“Ron, we did more than snuggle. You always denied it.”
“Okay. I touched you and let you touch me. I felt…alive. I’ve never felt that way…before or since.”
Katie sat straight up, almost hitting her head. Her cheeks were flushed, and kept on getting darker. She looked over at me in the dim light, looking as if she were holding her breath and would explode any second. I put my fingers to my lips as much to silence myself as her. I had never heard anything like that before. Two men…touching each other?
Katie’s chest started to heave up and down. I was afraid she would sob out loud. I grabbed her wrist and shook my head.
I whispered, “Wait.”
The two men upstairs continued.
“Are you sure about all that? How you felt?” Joe asked.
“Don’t make this harder,” said Doc.
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” said Joe.
“Ah, who’s backing out now?”
“I mean I hadn’t any experience.”
“But we found each other, and somehow knew what to do,” said Doc.
“Yes, that once. You never let me after that.”
Doc’s voice was gentle. “But you never stopped trying. I wanted you, but I hated myself. That was queer. I relived that scene every night, feeling you with me, your mouth on me. Jesus, Joe, I’ve never been so excited and…in love.”
“And now? Why tell me now?” Joe said.
“Don’t get me wrong. I made choices I knew I had to make. I love my wife in my own way, and my family. But I also know I loved you and wanted you, and I hated myself for it.”
“I was scared too, but I would have walked off into the sunset with you. I was convinced I had lost your friendship, that I had offended you. I thought you were having sex with my sister. So I figured I could make up for the queer offense by going after the guy who tried to molest her,” Joe said. “I felt obligated to trash Butch.”
“I knew nothing, not even that that had happened.”
“Why now?”
“Butch’s death…did you guys do it?” Doc asked.
“Ron, we were all drugged.”
“How was Roger involved?”
“No idea. I told you, Roger was too busy bullying boys.”
“But i
n Pina’s dreams, Roger and Butch had a fight, and Roger threatened Billy that he would come and get him if he told. Joe, I’ve got to know what Roger did to you.”
“Tried. Damned near succeeded. Is this some kind of vicarious thrill, or what?”
“Come here. Please let me hold you.”
“Why?” asked Joe.
“God, Joe. Let me hold you in my arms. Why wasn’t I there to protect you? Why, why, so many things.”
“Shush. Just be quiet. I love you. You excite me even now. I’d kiss you now, but I won’t play with you, your marriage, your family.”
“Just hold me a little longer,” said Ron.
“And you’ve never…”
“No, I was too busy in my life. I wouldn’t let myself go there. We could go to that island.”
“It wouldn’t be wise,” Joe said, “and it would be even harder to lose you for a second time…now that I’ve found you.”
“I don’t know what will happen in my life after this murder stuff. What I’ll do…”
“Ron, shush. I’ll tell you about Roger. I think part of you wants to know if Roger and I had something going. Absolutely not. He was repulsive. Roger threatened me once…cornered me in the dark with a knife. He said it was a warning…or a tease, whichever way I wanted it. He knew I was homosexual. Well, I got away, and I was so mortified I vomited. I didn’t understand it. I started to have dreams about Roger.”
“Joe, dreams…they’re…it didn’t mean…I am truly sorry, Joe.”
“I haven’t relived that story in ages. Spent some quality time in counseling over it. Now, why did you want me to tell you?” Joe said.
“Do you think he knew about us? My daughter, Katie, and Pina, talked about a dream where Roger called Butch ‘Romeo.’”
“So, you’re thinking Roger targeted Butch and me.”
“And why not me?”
“Jealous?”
“No, seriously, from Pina’s dream. Joe, you have to understand, these are no ordinary dreams. Experts studying this call it extraordinary knowing. They could be very, very real. To hear Pina tell it, it sounded like Roger may have killed Butch.”
Death and Love at the Old Summer Camp Page 12
