Love & Betrayal & Hold the Mayo

by Francine Pascal

  It’s so lovely out that I take off the plastic stuff I had covering the hole in the wall behind my bed. Now I sort of have my own little porthole. I’ve gotten so used to the country that I don’t even worry about animals crawling in and falling on my head. I figure if they don’t come in through the windows, they won’t come in through this little hole. That’s what I figure. If I’m wrong, I’ll probably have a heart attack.

  Which will cure my Robbie problem, anyway. Everything always comes back to that. Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. Whenever I think about him, I say in my head, “I love you, Robbie.” I say it over and over again. I’m always nervous when I’m with him because of Steffi, but if that situation didn’t exist, I would want to be with him all the time. I would want to touch him and have his arms around me. I would want to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine, his body pressed against mine. The whole length of him. But it’s not possible. None of it. I can control the outside, but not what I feel inside

  Eight

  The next morning is magnificent, just the way it’s supposed to be in summer camp. Two days of rain turned everything bright shiny green, and a million flowers bloomed. Even the shrubbery around the slum bunks looks good. Of course, if you know anything about it, you know it’s all weeds, but at least they cover the broken shutters and piles of trash.

  I don’t know why I’m feeling so good today. Maybe it’s because of that conversation I had with my father, or maybe because I didn’t drop anything big and wet at breakfast. Toast sliding off a plate or a runaway hard-boiled egg hardly count in my case. I’m getting better. I was out in under ten minutes. That’s ten minutes after everyone else. I barely had time to think about my fantastic success, because I’m due down at the dock by nine o’clock. First group is junior girls. Nina and her friends.

  There are twenty-six thirteen-year-olds. Eighteen of them claim they can’t go in the water because they have their periods. They barely have the strength to drag themselves over to the grass, throw down their towels, take out their suntan lotion, and start polishing their nails.

  Unfortunately Nina is one of the well ones, and she and seven others go through the lifesaving lessons. For the next hour she bugs me every five minutes.

  “Victoria,” she calls out from the water, “is this right?” she says, doing a backstroke. Or, “Are my legs straight?” and fifty other unnecessary questions.

  I don’t want to look like a bad sister in front of Robbie, so I answer her as sweetly as possible. She sees what’s happening and takes hideous advantage of the situation.

  I would love to push her head under the water. And hold it there for about a month. All right, two weeks.

  Then, right in earshot of Robbie, she asks me about Todd, and before I have a chance to answer informs me that her friend, Lisa, his sister, told her that he is definitely going out with Judy First.

  I know Robbie hears that because he looks up at me for a second. Then she asks me if she can borrow my pink sweater. I would like to wrap it around her throat, but I can’t seem selfish in front of Robbie, so I say yes. It nearly chokes me.

  Finally the end of first activity is announced over the PA, and they all head for their second activity.

  “I’ll stop by your bunk later for the sweater,” Nina calls as she leaves. “Okay?”

  I don’t answer.

  But it’s not that easy with Nina. “Okay?” she shouts again.

  “Yeah.”

  And she’s gone.

  The next group is Henry’s. I can see them coming in the distance. They look so cute, walking in double file holding hands.

  When they get close enough I smile and wave at them. I love them. They’re my table.

  They’re all surprised to see me and maybe a little nervous. After all, if I save lives or teach swimming anything like I serve meals, they know they’re in deep trouble.

  Of course I’m friendly, but I try to look sort of professional to build up their confidence.

  Robbie is really in charge of the lessons, but I have to keep a watch too. They’re six-to-eight-year-olds, and you have to keep a sharp eye on them because they’re always swimming away on their own or doing something crazy. In the water they’re like a lot of little porpoises leaping and playing around.

  Robbie lines them all up in the shallow part of the crib. That’s a portion of the lake enclosed with ropes where the kids all have to swim unless they’ve passed their deep-water tests. When they do, they can swim out to the raft. It gets pretty deep further out in the crib. These kids are so little that they can’t stand at the middle of the crib, so we have to be very careful that they don’t drift away out of the beginner area. Of course the counselors keep an eye on them too.

  Unfortunately Henry gets put right next to his mortal enemy, the big stupid bully, Steven. I would like to change his place, but I don’t want to do that without asking Robbie, and he’s busy with a demonstration of the crawl.

  It turns out to be okay anyway, because Henry is a better swimmer than expected, so I don’t have to worry about Steven pushing him around.

  After the lesson Robbie gives them all a free swim period. The crib turns into one big splash with lots of shouting and laughing and plenty of “watch me’s.” That’s what they all want. “Victoria, watch me!” Even Henry is having a good time. At least Steven seems to be leaving him alone.

  I’m busy showing one of the younger boys, Timmy Whelan, the dead man’s float when suddenly there’s a lot of commotion way down at the end of the crib.

  Something’s wrong! I grab Timmy, toss him up on the dock, and run down to the end of the pier to see what’s happening.

  When I get there I see a couple of kids have gone under the ropes and are way out in the deep water. And they’re shouting. It’s serious!

  I dive in and, swimming as fast as I can, head for them. It takes forever when you have to move fast in the water, but I finally get there. It turns out to be Steven and one of his little followers.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask them, trying to catch my breath. “What are you kids doing this far out?”

  “Henry. It’s Henry,” the little one gasps, sputtering with water.

  “Where is he?” I ask, looking all around. He’s nowhere in sight. “Where is he?” I shout at Steven.

  “He was over there.” He points to an empty spot a few feet away toward the raft.

  “Get back and get Robbie—fast!” I tell them, and dive under the water.

  The lake is clean and you can see far down into the tall weeds. Streaks of sunlight cut through the water, making my air bubbles glisten as they race up behind me. There’s nothing but silence and stillness and emptiness. I swing around in a full circle. No Henry. A horrendous panic shortens my breath and I have to surface to fill my lungs again. I search the top of the water. Still no Henry. Oh, please, please don’t let anything awful happen to him. He’s so sweet and so little.

  I have to find him fast. If he is underwater, even seconds can be too long.

  Down I dive again. This time I head toward the wooden raft. If he got into trouble he may have tried to make it to the raft. Then I see him, just off the edge of the raft. For an instant he looks okay, but then I see him sliding away from the raft and sinking down, his arms above his head, bubbles rushing from his mouth.

  I shoot up from the water, take a huge gulp of air, and dive down again. Pushing the water behind me with my arm, kicking furiously, I swim down toward the spot where I estimate he should be when I get to him. I have to go deeper than I thought, and I didn’t take in enough air. But I can’t go up again. It would take too long. I have to keep going. It’s just another couple of seconds and I’ll reach him.

  A hard pain fills my chest. I have to force myself to keep going down to Henry. The pain is like a steel wire tightening around me. My head feels like it’s going to explode. I reach out to try to grab him, but he’s still too far away. Please don’t let it be too late. One more inch and I won’t be able
to do it. I can’t stand the pain.

  And then I get him. I pull him to me, wrap my arm around his body, bend my knees up, and shove my feet out with all the power in my legs. We shoot up through the water together, me holding Henry with one arm while I propel myself with the other, kicking madly all the while.

  I see the top of the water … another couple of feet and I’ll break through. But then I can’t! The stopped-up air inside me explodes out and just as quickly a rush of water gushes into my mouth, choking back any air left. In that instant, with all my might, I throw Henry up as far as I can, straight up out of the water, and incredibly, hands grab him from me and then the water floods my brain and I fight for air to stop the choking. I feel myself being pushed up, my head bursts free of the water, but I can’t get the air into me. I can’t stop the coughing long enough to inhale. All the while choking and coughing, I’m being pulled along through the water. I know somebody’s saving me, but all I care about is getting some air into my lungs. I have to breathe….

  And then I do. Between the coughs I begin to grab a little air. It turns into choking when it gets to my lungs, but some air seeps in, and through the coughing and gasping, a little more, and some of the panic stops because I’m beginning to breathe again.

  I feel myself being lifted out of the water and carried in someone’s arms. My arms hang down. I’m too exhausted to even hold my head up. All I can manage is breathing.

  Gently I’m put down on the grass and for the first time I begin to breathe normally.

  I open my eyes and see his face, inches from mine.

  Some place, way back inside my brain, I knew it was Robbie saving me. Something about the feel of his arms holding me, his chest against my body: I knew it was him.

  And now I’m looking at him, caught in his eyes and too weak to turn away. And I see something in his face and I feel something between us, and it makes tears well up in my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

  I shake my head yes. “Henry? Is he all right?”

  “Yes,” he says, gently brushing the hair back from my forehead. “You got him just in time. He’s okay.”

  And now the tears come. I turn my head to the side, put my hands over my face, and cry. Part of it is relief for Henry and for myself, and another part is a terrible sadness for what I know is happening between Robbie and me. Something that neither of us can help.

  He knows it too. And he stays there, hovering over me a moment too long. And then he pulls himself up and others, people I didn’t even see before, move in and help me up.

  “Where’s Henry?” I ask them. “I want to see him.”

  “He’s over there on the bench,” one of the counselors says. “Thanks to you, he’s okay.”

  And sure enough there he is, all wrapped in a blanket and he’s just fine. I go over to him and grab him up in my arms. Boy, I was never so happy to see any kid in my life.

  “You okay?” I ask, squeezing him.

  “Yeah,” he says, “I’m okay. You saved my life. I would have drowned. Thank you, Victoria.” And with that he gives me a huge smacker on the cheek. I give him one right back and everyone laughs.

  We’re all feeling pretty good.

  “What happened?” I ask him. “What were you doing all the way out there?”

  Suddenly he gets very quiet. Something’s up. He won’t talk.

  “Hey, you know you aren’t supposed to be out of the crib until you pass your test. How come you did that?”

  Henry puts his head down, and I can see he’s going to cry if I bug him anymore.

  “It’s okay,” I hug him, “but just don’t do that anymore. Right?”

  “I won’t,” he says. “I promise.”

  “Steven made him,” Adam Gold pipes up from the back of the crowd.

  I turn to look at him. “How’d he do that?”

  But now Adam clams up. Suddenly he doesn’t know anything. And nobody else does. I might have known Steven was involved. Boy, I could kick that kid! He really is a little brat.

  I can see there’s no point in trying to get the real story now. First of all, Henry’s too upset, and besides, no one is going to spill it in front of a whole crowd like this. But I’m not finished with that little monster yet. No way.

  Naturally, after all that, swim period is called off.

  “Victoria?” It’s Robbie. “Why don’t you go back to your bunk and lie down for a while? I can manage okay for now.”

  “I’m all right, really,” I tell him, but he insists, and then the JC gets in too and says I look very pale. Maybe I should stop by the infirmary. He offers to go with me.

  “I’ll go lie down, but I don’t think I need to see the doctor. I’m really okay, just kind of wiped out.”

  I put on my robe and go up toward the bunks.

  Nobody is in the bunk when I get there. All I want to do anyway is fall down on the bed. I’m worse than I thought. And when I think about what happened and what could have happened, I start to get sick to my stomach. I think about Henry and how he could have died. And me too. That’s how those things can happen in the water. One minute everything is okay, and you’re laughing, and then the next somebody’s dead. Wow! That’s the closest I ever came to anything that serious.

  I guess I really did save Henry’s life. I remember once my parents talking about this old Chinese proverb. I don’t remember the words, but it’s about how when you save somebody’s life, they become your responsibility for always; you’re obligated to them because you gave them a new life. You’re sort of their mother. Now I really have to take care of Henry.

  Wait till I get my hands on that rotten little Steven.

  I guess I fell asleep, because the next thing I know the PA is blasting dinner call. They must have let me sleep through the set-up. I jump up, throw on my uniform, and race down to the mess hall.

  Steffi sees me coming in the door and comes right over to me and gives me a huge hug. “You’re fabulous, Torrie. Everybody’s talking about how you saved Henry’s life. You’re terrific.”

  And then a million other people are crowding around me and hugging me and congratulating me, and it’s terrific. It’s like I’m a hero. It’s great.

  Turns out all the waitresses got together and were sharing my tables so I could rest. I look at my tables, and for the first time they’re eating at the same time as everyone else.

  I thank everyone and take over my station. In a few minutes it’s like usual They’re one course behind. They all say they’re used to it and besides they like the leisurely pace.

  Just before dessert, both my tables stand up and give me a cheer, and then the whole dining room applauds. Boy, am I glad I stayed.

  Nine

  For the next week and a half I live off the big rescue, but by the end of the second week nobody’s talking about it anymore. The high is gone, and I’m back down in the dumps again. Henry too. It’s tough for both of us. He’s been trying, but he hasn’t had much success yet. He still walks around looking like he’s just lost his last friend, which isn’t possible since he never had any to start with, and he still cries at least five times a day and looks just plain unhappy the rest of the time. Plus he’s still king of the damp sheets. In fact the only success he’s had is with me. I stayed because of him. And I hate it. Some success.

  Most of the time I feel about as miserable as Henry looks. The big three problems are still big and three—Robbie, Steffi, and pain-in-the-ass Dena Joyce.

  My heart is still doing those crazy jumps when I see Robbie, and I can never carry on a decent conversation when he’s around. So mostly I just stay quiet and study him. I’m beginning to see more of the person inside.

  A couple of days ago, a whole group of us were watching the weekly tennis meets. They had three matches going on at the same time, but almost everyone was watching Robbie and this fabulous player Wally Kramer. Wally is a notorious bad sport with the most horrendous temper; he’s the kind who smashes rackets if he loses. And he
was really going bananas that day because Robbie was holding his own against him. Every time he lost a point Wally had something nasty to say.

  At one point they were neck and neck with Wally serving. He has this fantastic serve that’s like a bullet and nobody can ever return it, but this time he overshot the line. Robbie called it out and everybody saw it was, but Wally blew up, threw his racket down, and really got crazed.

  By then Robbie had had it. “Hey, Kramer, you got a problem? Say it, don’t do a whole number.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like your calls.”

  “Okay, then, let’s forget the whole thing,” Robbie said, and started to walk off. That’s when Wally called after him, something about first you cheat and then you quit, and Robbie turned around, and in two seconds he was over the net and they were rolling around on the ground. It was wild how fast it all happened.

  They stopped it before it got very far, but even Steffi was surprised. Somehow you don’t think of Robbie as the type to lose his temper like that. It’s not that he was really wrong, Wally is definitely a crud, and you can’t just go around calling people cheaters and get away with it. Still Robbie always seemed so cool and under control; it was weird to see him like that.

  Mostly I know about Robbie from Steffi, and she never says anything bad about him. I guess nobody can be that perfect, but you wouldn’t know it from Steffi’s description. She can go on forever about how great he is, and how he just started Stanford and he’s at the top of his class already, and how he’s a fabulous athlete and so unspoiled even though he comes from this ultra-rich family in Connecticut.

  Ken Irving isn’t so crazy about him, but that’s probably because he likes Steffi. He says Robbie’s a little too sure of himself. Maybe he’s just jealous. Most of the other guys like him, and the girls certainly do. If it weren’t for Steffi, there’d probably be a stampede to get at him.