I took Doc’s call, later that day, since Katie didn’t feel like speaking to him. He gave me the update: one of his camp buddies, Kevin Coe, a World War Two hero, had been hospitalized with a mental break at the hospital where Dr. Walter Freeman performed ice pick lobotomies. Mentally, Coe was basically a child. The hospital kept him on as a grounds worker.
Katie was sulking after this call, but wanted to let her mom know that her dad was okay and due to return from Boston soon. We tiptoed in, figuring we’d leave a note. For once, Katie’s mom was actually in the cabin.
“I’m awake.” She didn’t turn to look at us from her chair near the window. She just continued blowing smoke rings at the ceiling.
“Right. You don’t usually sleep well when he’s gone.”
“Always gone. But I’ll be gone too…” Mrs. McGuilvry twirled the pink, satin ribbon on her nightgown as she continued. “Your father? Always, I let him go, and I have lived inside, deep inside.” She looked down at her breasts where the ribbon tie to her gown now lay.
“Katie, leave her be.” I tugged Katie’s sleeve, just wanting to end this painful scene.
“You girls are fine. Girls are always fine. Come visit me, won’t you? I need the Star, and the water. I see myself on the porch. You, too, you’ll see me. I have always loved that rocker. I just go back…and forth, just back…and forth, closer to the water and back away…from the water. It’s so blue, you know.”
“Let it be,” I said to Katie. “She’s talking about Star Island.”
“Yeah, a Star Island of the mind.” Katie wore a mask, now, a real angry one.
“Is the real one like a sanatorium?”
“No! It’s…a rest home or a boarding house,” Katie snapped at me. “I am bored with her. She can just drop dead! I’m the one who needs a rest.”
Katie pushed me out the door.
Chapter Thirty-seven
VILAGGI OF BURGO AND GIULIANA - WITCH/WHICH MAFIA
I continued to have dreams, although now they were all of meals. I saw steaks, and roasts, and chopped meat in my dreams. Smelled them cooking too, and saw blood, deep, red-brown, greasy blood. Something was definitely brewing. A witch’s stew perhaps.
More letters came from Fifi. The latest told us he was in the villages near my ancestral home. A contact with another seer confirmed the importance of the shirt.
This one also said, “What you are looking for is meat.”
She emphasized the word for meat in Italian, carne. According to the seer, this was the name of the person who had done very evil things to children in America, especially to the child of the boss of bosses. She said this evil person was still alive.
Katie looked at the pictures Fifi sent and expressed a bit more interest in the clues he was giving. She actually took a call from her father and choked out “I love you” at the end of the call. He promised to return the next day and take us for a seaplane ride.
The next day, Katie greeted me with something resembling a smile. She actually tore open the letter from Fifi in Giuliana. He cut to the chase from the start: the victimized child was the son of big boss Propiziano. The FBI arrested this big boss shortly after his son’s molester blew the whistle on him. The seer told Fifi that the molester who ratted on Propiziano used to be known as Roger Brown. The seer said he was still alive.
After Fifi’s letter, Katie said she needed to tell me something, and asked me just to listen. She settled down beside me on her porch, the closest she had been to me in a few days, and said she had been trying to understand about Joe
“My dad always kept their framed picture on his desk. It was the two of them, real handsome and young. They were, well, like they had their arms around each other’s shoulders, and they kind of were looking into each other’s eyes.”
“Katie, it’s…they’re like us,” I said, trying to figure out how freely I should speak.
“Oh, you think so?” She looked over the top of the sunglasses she was wearing, more for effect since we were indoors.
She put her head in her hands a second, and said, “It’s weird. My mother was always talking about how special Joe was back then. Do you think she knew?”
“I don’t know. I do know they’ve been best buddies. They’ve been hanging out since they were nine or ten, like us,” I said.
Oh, crumb. If I kept talking like this, there would be nowhere to go but all the way into the heart of the matter: the matter of our heart. I took a safe detour.
“Joe is kind of…well…he sort of lisps. My neighbor Vinny had a piano teacher, Mr. Kraus. He dyed his hair and lisped, and kids teased him.”
“Because of his hair?”
“Katie, get with it. He was a queer.”
“That sounds strange. ‘My dad is a queer.’”
“How about, ‘Pina is a queer. She’s being a queer with Katie.’” I said it like it was a joke…testing the waters.
“Stop!”
“C’mon, Katie. I’m teasing you.” Obviously, I had opened the can of worms. “It was sad. The piano teacher was really a nice man. He was kind and sad.”
“Did he have a boyfriend?”
“No. He lived all alone.”
“What do you think will happen to my dad? Will he be all alone?” Katie’s face began to soften. She smiled, barely.
“Of course not,” I said, risking a bit more excitement. “We’ll be with him.”
“We’ll be at school, and you just have a crush on Joe,” Katie said.
“I do like Joe. I hope he and your dad do work it out. I feel bad for your mom, but she’s living in her head. She keeps going further and further away.”
I wondered if I really would be at school with Katie with all this drama going on. Maybe I should just resign myself that it probably wouldn’t happen. I had just ducked the big conversation again, but I felt the pressure rising.
If I didn’t blow, Katie would.
Katie took off her sunglasses with a slow, deliberate movement. She had a far-off look on her face. She had gone someplace in her head.
She mumbled, “Uh huh.” Then she stood up and left the cabin.
After our chat, Katie seemed to feel a bit better. She found several excuses to go to the main house to see if there had been a call from her father. Nothing.
Chapter Thirty-eight
TWO GIRLS AND A FLOAT
Day four, no activity, no phone call from Doc. I longed for a distraction or a crisis.
I had to talk to Katie. We had come so far, learned so much about ourselves and the case…and now nothing. No more talk about our conversation last night.
We swam out to the float and lay on our stomachs, dripping and breathing heavily from swimming hard.
I tugged on Katie’s arm and said, “Listen. We can’t just lie around every day and go swimming. I mean, the float is warm, yeah, the pine is filling my head, loons are cooing, and I’m in…” I hesitated, on the verge of saying love.
Katie raised her head to meet my gaze.
“That’s lovely.” She choked out, rolling her eyes.
I frowned at her. “You know we’ve got to call your dad about Fifi and my dreams with the meat.”
Katie sighed. “It’s all so crazy, and the other dreams, too! Maybe we’re in one of those strange zones like in Bermuda.”
“C’mon, Katie, we’re not disappearing,” I responded.
“Maybe we should, or go to Boston to meet my father and Joe.”
“You know, a moment ago we were talking about something, and now you want to dream about Boston?” I snapped at her.
“Hold on. I just want to talk to my dad about regular stuff. Not dreams or bloody hands,” Katie whined. “I’m actually tired of these dreams.”
“What? All right,” I said. “We can dream about happy places tonight.”
As if I had a choice. I rubbed my temple, which had started to throb with annoyance.
“I just wanna swim back now and talk to my dad. You can come if you want.” She threw the wor
ds back over her shoulder as she jumped into the water and swam away.
I had no clue what was bugging Katie today, other than not hearing from her dad. Last night, she almost seemed to be coming to terms with things. I thought that maybe she and her mom had seen something coming all along. Now, I just knew I had to race back to shore with her.
Back on dry land, Katie zoomed to the phone, pushing me aside in the process. She was still dripping from the lake. What is up with her?
“Hi, Daddy, I miss you,” Katie almost whimpered in a voice I wasn’t used to hearing from her. I leaned in close so I could listen in.
“Everything okay?” inquired Doc.
“Yeah, I guess. Fifi’s has written us some letters, all about ‘carne.’ Dad, that’s meat in Italian and now Pina’s been dreaming about meat. I just want you to come home.”
“I know, honey. I’ll be home tomorrow night. Joe already called his father, so we’ve got all the same information, but thanks.” Doc sounded pressured. “We’ll talk more then.”
“Good bye and kisses to Pina,” was Doc’s parting note.
Katie hung up the phone and dashed back out the screen door. I chased after her.
“Hey Katie,” I teased, pulling her back by the belt once I caught up to her.
Katie twisted away from me, slapping at my hand.
“Stop!” She whined.
“You know,” I pushed her further, “Your dad said, ‘kisses to Pina.’ Well…?”
Katie rolled her eyes, “Huh?”
I risked asking, “What’s the matter? Your dad’s coming home; he’s taking us out for a seaplane ride. And, we’re going to plan a happy dream, together.”
Kicking up pine needles, Katie answered, “I think I just want to go to sleep early. In my father’s bed.”
“What?” I screeched, pulling her back to look at me. Her closed face said it all. Silence.
”But Katie!” It sounded like I was begging and maybe I was. “Tell me what’s going on,” I asked again, trying to touch her arm gently. She pulled away so quickly, I expected her arm to detach at the shoulder and just be left hanging in my hand.
My astonishment didn’t last for long.
Katie spun on me, shouting, “It’s all about you, Pina. Pina this, Pina that. Well, forget it! I’m sick of your dreams. My own father—all he cares about is how special you are.”
I was caught completely off guard. I kept trying to get a but in between her sobs.
Finally, I got out, “But you liked that I was special. You even said you wanted in on the dreams.”
“That was then,” Katie replied. She tore off the braided weed ring I had woven for her, “and I don’t want this stupid thing. It’s just a weed! You’re the prize rose. So that makes me a common weed. Just ordinary!”
“No! You’re my sweet violet, or even my four-leaf clover,” I said desperately, through the tears. “Don’t throw away my ring!”
“Yeah right,” she responded, “Your this and your that. Your dreams and your queerness, and I don’t want any more. No queers, no dreams. I’m losing everything to you! Everybody’s leaving me—my father, my mother, my me. Maybe I’d even rather be at Camp Maidenfern!”
I knew we had crossed a line. Camp Maidenfern! Katie hated me. She’d rather be with those snobs, all nails and boobs.
Did I dare ask her if she meant it? No. She was steaming like I’ve never seen. But give up my dreams? They’re me. Queer, that’s me too. I started really sobbing.
Katie made one final comment as we reached her cabin, “You can sleep in my bed; I’ll sleep in my mother’s room.”
The screen door snapped shut in my face.
Chapter Thirty-nine
LOST
The day after my fight with Katie, I sat in the heat of the rec hall. She still wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t even look at me. I was by myself, for once.
Well, that was a figure of speech, since most of the time even when I was by myself, I was not truly alone…or myself. I was sleeping and dreaming so frequently, it was becoming very confusing.
I thought about it. Who am I? Could I be many selves? I was tired, and the closeness of the dusty rec hall was making me even sleepier. The last thing I wanted to do was dream. Maybe dream with Katie, dream of Katie, dream Everly Brothers type of dreaming, but no special dreams. I didn’t want to be another person again.
I caught my reflection in the panes of warped glass. Or was the glass just fine, and I was warped? My reflection revealed a confused face staring back at me. The whole mess felt like a crazy tapestry, like a woven rug. I had thought Katie and I were weaving together. Were we really unraveling, thread by shredded thread? I was the warped one. I was a queer.
I was confused. Yeah, I just wanted to have fun, be with Katie, breathe in the deep, rich smells of Maine. Bury myself in pine needles and blueberries. No murders, no dreams, no seriousness. But now, no Katie. I was totally abandoned, thrown away.
I’d just call my folks, tell them the Academy thing wouldn’t work. It was just too hard. I’d be expected to be a rich girl. I’d miss them too much. What else could I do?
Once I settled on the obvious, I hurried to leave the rec hall. The heavy air was making me feel claustrophobic and queasy, like my stomach was rising up. I didn’t know if I could hold it, and everything else, in place. I ran to the main house, and luckily, I was able to have the sitting room and the phone all to myself. I asked the operator to place a call to my parents’ number in New York. She said she’d call me back as soon as she had the line.
I tried to get my voice back to normal. This had to make perfect sense to my folks, fit in with the way they think.
The truth would never fly. “Yes, hello, Mommy and Daddy…yes, I’m coming home because the person I love doesn’t want me because I’m queer and I have funny dreams.”
At best, I’d get, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
I did sound pathetic. I felt pathetic. The phone ringing startled me. The operator told me the trunk lines for New York were all busy. I should try later.
I’d have to talk to Doc, tell him I couldn’t go to Albert Academy. I tried Joe’s number in Boston. Doc answered the phone, sheepishly muttering something about missing the plane. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
I wailed, “Doc, I need your help! I don’t think I can dream anymore. The dreams are making me too twisted.”
Doc put on his physician’s voice. “Tell me why.” Then, he softened. “Honey, take a deep breath.”
His warm, soothing words just made me melt, and I continued to blubber.
“I want to be normal. I want Katie to be my friend.”
“But,” he said, “you are extraordinary. Katie loves you. We all do. Have you two been fighting?”
“No, not really,” I lied. “It’s…well, Doc, you want me to get the answers about Roger. That’s not normal. I’m not a detective. I just want to be liked for me, not for the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not stuff.”
“Oh, sweet Pina,” Doc crooned, “Honey, we do love you for you. And yes, I do believe you have answers, and those answers are important. In your future, this gift of yours will be all the more important. You know about my research, right?”
I leaned away from the mouthpiece to blow my nose.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Well,” he continued, “I’m going to write a report on you, and if you agree, we’ll talk about these dreams to doctors and students alike. What do you say?”
“So people will study my dreams?” I asked. “You mean you’re studying me?”
Doc coughed.
His answer had several false starts, “Uh…well…it’s not like…looking under a microscope. Yes, in a way, you could say I’m studying you, but the truth is, you’re showing me things, important things only you can show me.”
I didn’t want to offend Doc, but I had to know. “It almost feels like a trap. People only want me to be this special dream person, and what if I stop? Would people still want
me? So are people using me?” In a small voice, I dared to say, “Are you just using me, Doc?”
“Oh, Pina! I am sorry,” apologized Doc. “I guess it could look like that, but if you say stop, we will. I want this for you, for your future I know where you can go with this.”
I couldn’t stop the burn in my chest and the sick feeling in my stomach. I had to tell him.
“Now, I’m really scared Katie wants me to quit. She thinks I’ve taken you away from her. She won’t talk to me, doesn’t even care if I come into the cabin to sleep or not. She said flat out no more dreams! She even said, no more us!”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I told Doc the whole story of my love for Katie and our conversations about being queers. I was so desperate. I could feel myself flush. Thank God, he couldn’t see me.
When I was done, Doc said really softly, “Thank you for trusting me with that. I can’t tell you what to do, only what I wish for you. I know it is hard for you now, Pina, but I do not think you should give up your dreams. They are your heritage. I also know you will benefit a lot of people, now and in the future. But I will respect your choice.”
I broke down some more when I told him about the Academy. I really didn’t think I could go. I couldn’t be there with Katie and just be friends. That would be the killer.
He listened quietly. I thanked him, mumbled that I loved him, and had a lot more thinking to do. He promised again that he would be back tomorrow and asked me to tell Katie. I would pass along the message, if she would even listen to me.
I had to go to the beach. I needed water to wash away my tears…to feel light and clean again. It really was high time for me to go jump in the lake. I watched the slight lapping of water at the edge of the sand. The water came in crystal clear, and then mixed a little with the sand it kicked up as it rolled away and grew cloudy. Moments later, it came back again, farther up the sand. It was constantly coming.
So, I thought, me too, I’m coming…I’m becoming. I’m in the action of becoming. I can’t go all the way back to being just a run-of-the-mill Catholic girl in Queens, New York. Not in love, not a queer, not open to dreaming. I can’t go back.
Death and Love at the Old Summer Camp Page 16
