Robert nodded, but I could see he wasn't clear on what Cary was explaining.
"In fore-and-aft rigged vessels--"
"Fore-and-aft?"
"You don't even know what that means?"
"I think I do. Is fore the front?"
"Great."
Robert smiled.
"In fore-and-aft rigged vessels, this maneuver is called jibing, and in square-rigged it's called wearing. If we start to lose control, I'll say we're broaching, understand?"
"Lose control?"
"It can happen," Cary said dryly.
"What happens?"
"We turn over and you fall into the sea and mess up your fancy outfit," Cary said, turned, and walked on. Robert looked at me.
"Don't worry, he won't let our boat turn over," I said. "He hasn't ever."
"That's reassuring," Robert remarked and we followed with May at our side.
May and I set the blanket out on a nice flat spot in Logan's Cove while Robert and Cary launched the Sunfish. I had brought along Daddy's binoculars so we could watch them from shore. I knew that once Cary had boarded our boat and set sail, he would be all business. He was really a very good instructor and expert at reading the wind.
They went back and forth, the Sunfish bouncing over the waves and looking as if it was running smoothly each time. When I gazed through the glasses, I saw Cary lecturing, pointing, and adjusting, directing Robert to make this turn and that, explaining as they went along. Even so, a few times, they did come close to capsizing when Robert was at the rudder and controlling the sail.
May and I played a few games of Chinese checkers, searched the beach for interesting seashells and waded out along the jetty of slippery rocks, searching for tiny crabs. The terns flew around us and followed us everywhere, especially when we returned to the blanket. They knew about picnics, anticipated crumbs, and eyed us cautiously.
Nearly two and a half hours later, Cary brought the Sunfish around and headed for Logan's Cove. They beached where we had set up our blanket. Robert's clothes were soaked, but he looked exhilarated.
"How did he do?" I asked as they made their way up to us.
"Fair to middling," Cary said without much enthusiasm.
"It takes lots of practice," I said. I looked closer at Robert's face. His cheeks and forehead were beginning to look sunburned, but the back of his neck was the reddest, deep crimson. "Oh, Robert, you should have worn some sunblock. You're going to be hurting tomorrow."
"Yeah, I'm going to regret not putting any on. I feel crisp as burnt toast," he said. He gazed at Cary. "How come you're not burnt?"
"I've been out there so long, my skin's used to the sun," he said. "Anyway, I'm starving. Let's eat," he added.
May and I took out the food and as we ate, Robert described his sailing lesson, revealing that Cary had been screaming, "You're broaching!" more than half the time, "I think I finally got the hang of it toward the end, huh, Cary?"
"You're getting there," Cary said. "Actually," he reluctantly offered, "for a landlubber, you didn't do too badly."
"Thanks," Robert said. He was practically beaming. "You're not so bad yourself for an old sea dog."
"Old sea dog, huh?"
"You are a bit bowlegged," Robert kidded.
I laughed.
"I am not." Cary stood up. "Am I, Laura?"
"Only just a little, Cary," I said hesitantly.
"Is that so? Well, I've got perfect balance on or off land," Cary bragged.
Robert laughed.
"Want to find out, big shot?" Cary challenged. Robert glanced at me.
"Cary, no," I said.
"He's the one who claims to be perfect," Cary said. "What's your challenge?" Robert asked.
"Ever hear of Indian wrestling?"
"Sure. I'm the Eastern United States champion," Robert bragged.
"Will you two stop? We still have dessert to eat. Sit, Cary," I ordered, pointing to his spot on the blanket.
"We have to earn it first," Cary taunted. "Champ?"
Cary took his stance, his hand out. The object was to pull the opponent so far off balance that he fell. I knew Cary was very good at it, probably from doing balancing acts on boats during heavy seas.
Robert jumped to his feet. May laughed and clapped her hands in anticipation.
"You're going to mess up that sailing costume even more," Cary warned.
"We'll see."
"Will you two stop?" I pleaded. My heart began to pound. Whenever egos came into question, especially masculine egos, there was always trouble.
Robert grabbed Cary's hand, took his stance, and the struggle began. Both were strong. Their forearms bulged and their shoulders strained. Robert surprised me with his balance and I could tell Cary was amazed as well. He had thought he would make short work of Robert. t th nearly toppled the other and then Robert faked a thrust forward and pulled Cary so hard, Cary lost his footing and fell face forward, unable to catch hi n self before he fell face first into the sand. When he pushed himself up, his cheeks were blistered with sand, as were his chest and legs.
"And still champion of the East Coast, Robert Royce," Robert cried, holding his hands high. May laughed. Cary's eyes met mine and I knew this was not going to end well.
"Let's have a rematch," he demanded.
"You'll have to speak to my manager," Robert said, nodding at me.
"Cary, please, stop. Let's have dessert."
"I don't need dessert. Come on. You were just lucky, Royce," Cary declared. He took his stance and held out his hand. Robert looked at me. I shook my head but he shrugged.
"I can't pass up a challenge," he said. "I have my fans to consider."
"Great." I slammed the basket cover down and sulked as they started their struggle.
It went as before, both nearly toppling the other. Cary was much more intense this time, his determination twisting his mouth and filling his eyes with fire. Once again, Robert made a good feint, only this time when he pulled back, Cary fell forward onto him and the two of them toppled to the sand.
"Tie," I cried, happy it was over, but they didn't let go of each other. The test of strength continued on the ground. Robert laughed and Cary tugged his arm, pushing him back to the sand. In response, Robert clutched Cary's ankle and pulled him to the sand. Then the two of them grappled, turning and twisting, one over the other.
"STOP IT!" I screamed. I stood up. May did, too. "If you two don't stop, I'm leaving."
They grunted, neither relinquishing his hold on the other. The struggle continued. I grabbed May's hand and she looked back over her shoulder as I pulled her away. I marched over the beach and back to our house, leaving the two muscle men grunting and groaning in the sand.
Thanks to their stupid male egos, what could have been a perfectly wonderful afternoon was ruined. Mommy and Daddy had gone to town, so I didn't have to answer any questions. Instead, I went upstairs to my room, May trailing along, wondering what had gone wrong.
"Boys!" I signed angrily. "They can be such idiots. They were getting along so well and now this. I'm tired of it. You're lucky. You still treat boys as if they had cooties."
"Not anymore, Laura. I like a boy in my class," she confessed.
"Don't tell him," I advised. I was feeling so bitter and angry. I seized my latest needlework and sat by the window jabbing the needle in and out of the cloth.
A short time later, I saw Robert and Cary, They weren't walking side by side until they reached the house. Then they stopped and spoke to each other quietly.
"Thanks for ruining the picnic," I hollered out the window. The two looked up.
"We were just fooling around, Laura," Cary claimed. "Why did you run off like that?"
"You weren't fooling around. You're both just two idiots," I declared. "I don't care if I do anything with either of you again."
"Laura," Robert pleaded. "It was just . ."
I folded my arms and sat back so neither of them could see me. I didn't hear them come into the hous
e and I didn't hear Robert drive off, but I held my curiosity on a tight leash and didn't look out the window. They're planning something, I thought, and suddenly heard the two of them singing beneath my window. To the tune of "My Darlin' Clementine," they sang, "We are sorry, we are sorry, we are sorry for what we did. We feel lost and gone forever, oh our darlin' Laura Logan." They repeated it until I stuck my head out and saw the two of them, now with their arms around each other's shoulders, gazing up at me.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Are we forgiven?" Robert asked.
"You shouldn't be, but you are," I said with a smile. "Then, can we have our dessert now?" Cary followed. "We worked up another appetite."
"Oh, now the feast makes sense, huh? Come on in," I said, delighted that they had come to a truce.
I signed to May, explaining what was
happening now. She shook her head with confusion.
"Being grown-up is going to be harder than I thought," she replied and I laughed.
After dessert, Cary went back to the beach to dock the Sunfish and I walked Robert to his car to say good-bye.
"I had a great time. I'm really sorry about our ruining it for you, Laura."
"I'm just happy you and Cary are getting along, Robert. I just hope you two will stay that way."
"We will," he promised. "You're really a good cook," he said. "I enjoyed the picnic."
"Thank you."
He paused and I saw he was thinking of something that was taking a great deal of courage to say, so I helped. "What is it, Robert?"
"I was just wondering. My parents are going to Boston next Saturday to buy some things for our place. I'm not going," he explained. "How would you like to come over to the hotel and maybe we could make dinner together? We could pretend we were the owners and we had a hotel full of guests and--"
"I don't know," I said, looking back at the house and wondering what I would say to Daddy. Robert looked very disappointed.
"Oh, well, it was just an idea," he said, opening the car door.
"I guess there's nothing wrong with my going to dinner at your house," I said. "I'll tell the truth: You invited me." "That is the truth," he said, encouraged.
"It's not lying if I don't mention that your parents are away."
"No, it's not lying."
"I'll work it out," I promised.
"Great. What should I make?"
"I'll think about it and let you know during the week," I said.
"It'll be like we're married," he said and leaned out to kiss me. "I love you, Laura," he whispered.
"I love you, too," I said and he started the engine, backed out, waved, and drove away over a road dappled with sunlight and shadows.
Perhaps some day we would be married, I daydreamed, and then I thought about Grandma Olivia. She probably wouldn't attend the wedding. She might even excommunicate me from the family as she did her own son, Chester, but like Uncle Chester, that was a chance I was willing to take and a price I was willing to pay for the one I loved.
However, I had no idea just how powerful Grandma Olivia was and how much she could raise the costs.
6
Hopelessly Devoted
.
Despite their wrestling match on the beach,
Cary and Robert remained friends, and Cary even went over to the Sea Marina in the middle of the week and helped Robert and his father with some of the refurbishing of the dock. On Thursday, we had a bad storm. The rain fell so hard the drops were bouncing on the streets, pounding the windows and roofs, making the walls of our house beat like the outside of a drum. Daddy couldn't go out on his lobster boat, so he drove us to and from school just to have something to do. It was dark and dreary and unusually cold for this time of year. It didn't begin to clear up until late Friday afternoon.
"At least we know we did a good job on the dock," Robert told me in the cafeteria, "thanks to Cary. The storm didn't have any effect on it at all."
Cary blushed at the compliment. The three of us had been inseparable over the past week. I could see we were becoming the subject of idle chatter, some of the more jealous girls dipping into their dark wells of innuendo and nastiness to bring up new vicious rumors. Someone left a note stuck in the door of my hall locker. It read, Does Grandpa sit and watch while you and Robert kiss?"
I ripped it into a dozen pieces, afraid of what Cary would do if he saw it. He didn't mention anything, but I sensed that he was getting ugly notes as well. If anyone bothered Robert, he didn't tell me either. However, on Friday morning, just before lunch, Cary got into a fight with Peter Thomas in the boys' locker room. Whatever Peter said put Cary into a wild rage. He bloodied Peter's nose and gave him a welt on his forehead.
I asked Cary what had happened, but he wouldn't talk about it. He wouldn't say anything in the principal's office, and once again, he was suspended for fighting. The school called Mommy and Daddy, and when they came to pick us up, Mommy cried in front of Cary, which was punishment enough. During the drive home, he sat with his head lowered and listened while Daddy spoke softly, almost like a man pronouncing a death sentence on a convict.
"You're not a boy anymore, Cary. You do a man's work. You've been doing it for some time now. When you're a boy, your parents are judge and jury. They're your government, your court judges, and they pass sentence on your bad deeds. But now, you have to live with yourself and what you do. You have to be responsible for your actions and answer to a higher voice than mine. You hurt all of us and you have to live with that. If they decide to throw you out of school, that will be that."
"It wasn't my fault, Dad," Cary protested. "Why wasn't it? You beat that boy good," "He had it coming to him."
"Why?" Daddy pursued, Cary just shook his
head. "He had it coming to him."
"Well, when they make you judge and jury, you
can decide that, but for now, you'll sit home instead of
being in class where you need to be the most." Daddy looked to me to see if I could add
anything to clear up the mystery. I just shook my
head.
"I'm tired," Daddy said as soon as we got home.
"I'm going up to bed early tonight."
"I'll send up some supper for you, Jacob,"
Mommy called after him.
The air was so thick with gloom, I thought we'd
have to slice our way through the sadness. May,
locked up in her world of silence, nevertheless sensed
the tension, and sat at Cary's feet, gazing up at him
with big, sad eyes from time to time, which only made him feel more miserable. He skipped supper, too, and
went up to his attic hideaway.
I heard him moving furniture and when I
looked up at my ceiling, I saw he had put something
over the hole. Then he was quiet.
I often went up to Cary's workshop to watch
him work on his models. It was a small room because
of the way the roof slanted, but he had a nice-sized
table where he worked on his model ships. The ships
he had completed were lined up on half a dozen
shelves. He was most proud of his sailing ships, and
they held center stage on each of the shelves. When he'd been silent for over half an hour, I
went up to see him. He sat with his back to me and
continued to work.
"What's that?" I asked.
"A replica of the HMS Victory, the flagship of
the British admiral Horatio Nelson," he said. "I feel
like working on war ships these days."
"Cary, what happened between you and Peter?
Please, tell me."
"What's the difference? It's over and done," he
said. "Is it over, Cary?"
He turned and I saw his eyes were bloodshot. "It won't be over until we're both out of there,
Laura," he fired back at me.
"Why?" I pu
rsued. He returned to his model
and worked. "Cary, I want to know. Why won't it be
over?"
"Because they won't stop," he mumbled. "They
enjoy doing it too much."
"Doing what?"
"Belittling me, belittling you, saying disgusting
things about us."
"What things?" I asked, anticipating the answer.
Little butterflies of panic fluttered in my stomach
when he turned toward me again.
"Things like, 'Do you and Robert take turns?
Do you pick a card to see who goes first? Or do you
go at it all at once?' You happy now, now that you
know?" He looked so strange, and I couldn't tell if it
was rage or sadness shining brightly in his eyes. "No," I said, "but you've got to ignore them,
Cary. They're just spiteful and mean."
"I won't ignore them.Ill stuff their garbage
words down their garbage mouths," he vowed. "But you don't win in the end, Cary," I said
softly. "You're the one suspended from school." "It doesn't matter. I get some satisfaction and at
least they know they'll have to pay and pay dearly for every remark," he said. Then he fixed his glare on me. "No one's said anything to you? Bothered you?" He got his answer with my silence. "You wouldn't tell me
anyway," he said.
"No, because look at what happens," I said.
"You want some supper? I'll bring something up." "I'm not hungry."
I started down the ladder.
"Laura," he called.
"What?"
"Don't let anyone make fun of you when I'm
not in school."
"They won't," I said. He went back to his model
ship.
Robert called to find out what had happened
and express his sympathy. I was afraid that if he knew
the whole truth, he, too, would get into fights and then
I would be responsible for the two of them doing
badly in school.
"You're still coming over tomorrow night,
aren't you, Laura?" Robert asked.
"Yes," I said, even though I knew I would
regret leaving Cary locked up in his own dark,
unhappy world.
"I'll be there by five, okay?"
"Okay."
That night I lay awake for the longest time with
Music in the Night Page 10
