Summer of Yesterday

by Gaby Triana

  I sit up in protest. “But it’s not even real driving. It’s a golf cart.”

  “Can you two argue about it while you help unload the rest of the car, please?” Erica’s sighs and huffs emphasize the fact that she’s unloading everything herself.

  “No problem,” I mutter. Helping them will show how responsible I am. I get up and follow my father outside. “Please, it’s the only fun thing to do here. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”

  “You barely reply to my texts, so that’s not helping your argu­ment.”

  “Okay, I’ll reply to your every text. Just don’t text every two minutes.” I smile. “You told me to have a good time, right? Well, I would have a good time driving the cart around. You know, to explore Fort Wilderness, see what there is to see and stuff.”

  “We can explore as a family.”

  What? “No!”

  He throws his hands up, then pulls me closer to the car, away from what I can only assume is Erica’s range of hearing. “Haley, what is your problem? You’re acting like this is all so terrible.”

  “It is to me.”

  “Really? I would disagree. You’re pretty damn lucky to have two families that love you. Stop saying crap like that. Erica takes everything you say very personally. I take what you say personally.”

  I twist my arm out of his hold. “Why do you always defend Erica’s feelings? What about mine?” Yes, I sound whiny, even to my ears, but this is how I feel. He needs to hear it.

  He studies my eyes. He looks up and eventually sighs. “If I lend you the golf cart . . .”

  Yes . . . ? I’ll do anything!

  “You’re just going to take off, and then we’ll never see you. Which is not what we’re trying to accomplish here. That is the antisolution.”

  “It’s just a GOLF CART!” I cry.

  But okay . . . okay . . . I need to act more mature for this to work. I lower my voice and try to sound as rational as possible. “Dad, some kids my age are meeting after the campfire tonight. I just want to go see what they’re up to. It’s probably going to be boring. But I don’t want to show up with Daddy and Stepmommy, you know?” My eyes plead with him. “You understand, right? Right, Daddy?”

  He doesn’t respond. Why is this so hard for him? I’d better start thinking of a Plan B.

  I place my hands over his folded arms. “Please? Trust my judgment. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll be fine. Don’t you trust your parenting skills enough to be comfortable with the fruits of your labor?” My eyebrows turn up for a very convincing finish.

  “It’s your mother’s parenting skills I worry about.”

  “Dad. Not funny.”

  He smiles to himself, sighs heavily, and places his hand on the car. “Okay. But you have to answer me every time I text you. Spend the afternoon with us, then after dinner you can take it for a spin.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” I throw my arms around him, and he leans in, enjoying the hug.

  “Just try to pretend that you love us, okay?”

  “What?” I take a step back and look at him hard.

  His eyes don’t meet mine. He starts grabbing the last of the bags from the trunk.

  “Dad, it’s not like that. At all. It’s just . . .” He never even asked where I wanted to go this summer or my opinion on anything. He always used to ask. When it was me, him, and Mom, he would listen to everything I said. Not anymore.

  “Don’t worry about it, Haley. Just come inside.”

  I want to say I’m sorry for acting like a brat, but a part of me really feels he deserved it. For not taking my feelings into consideration. But all I say is, “Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

  He nods. “Love you too.”

  I go back inside, feeling victorious but sad. Can’t figure out why. I just hang out, watch TV, and play with Willy and Alice as much as I can before it’s time to go. I get so caught up in reruns of The Suite Life of Zack and Cody on the closed-circuit Disney Channel that I jump when I see it’s past nine thirty p.m. “Gotta go.” I grab the map and kiss the twins, their smooth little faces pressed to my pillows, a breath away from sleepy time.

  “Where you going, Tata?” Alice pops up.

  I gently guide her back onto the pillow. “I’m going for a ride in the—”

  “She’s going to the bathroom.” Dad eyes me.

  “Right. Bathroom.” Mention a ride in the golf cart, and I’ll find myself accompanied by two midgets. “So I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

  “No, Tata, don’t go.” Alice pouts.

  “Yeah, Tata, don’t go,” Dad says weakly, but then smiles. “Alice doesn’t want you to go . . . so far . . . to the bathroom.”

  “Dad. Stop.”

  “Don’t be too long,” Erica adds from the adjacent kitchen. “We want to leave early tomorrow morning for Magic Kingdom, so you’ll need all your energy.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have fun.” Dad smiles in a sad way. “Come right back if you feel off in any way, you hear?”

  “Yes, Dad.” I take the cart key from the kitchen counter. “See you later.” When I step into the hot night and close the door gently behind me, a deep breath fills my lungs and escapes slowly. The silence of the Florida wilderness settles around me as I slide into the golf cart.

  My heart races for the first five minutes. I’m out! By myself!

  Even with headlights on and the occasional streetlight, I almost miss the street I’m supposed to turn onto, it’s so dark. Hard to believe that four theme parks light up the night just a couple of miles away. I recognize the pool I came to last time we were here and turn onto the electric cart road next to it. Driving around the curvy path, I hear movie music, and then slowly, a big outdoor screen appears to my left under the stars. Metal bleachers are full of families watching Sleeping Beauty. Nearby are two campfires surrounded by people roasting marshmallows.

  I press down on the brake and pocket the key.

  Stepping out, crunching over gravel, I scan the amphitheater area for the teens I saw earlier. What if they’re not here? Maybe they were messing with me. If that’s the case, I’ll stay until the movie ends, then drive somewhere else.

  “Haley,” someone calls from off to one side. I look around. “Over here.”

  Dark figures lounge under a tree behind the concession stand. I head over, letting my eyes adjust again to the dark. As I get closer, I recognize the three kids I saw at registration.

  “Hey,” says the only girl. She has shoulder-length light brown hair, streaked with thick blond highlights.

  “Hey. How’d you guys know my name?”

  The first guy, the one who told me to meet them, breaks a twig and tosses a tiny gravel rock into the space between us. “Everyone in the lobby knew your name.” He chuckles.

  We were arguing that loud? Man. “Right.” I put my thumbs into my jean shorts pockets. “So, what are you guys up to?”

  “Plotting,” says the girl, eyes focused on the phone lighting up her whole face.

  “Plotting what?”

  “Something to do.” There’s the deeper voice, the other guy who talked to me.

  “Are you guys all related?” Not that it matters. Just want statuses.

  “We are,” the older one says, pointing at the other boy. “He’s my brother. She’s some crazy chick we just met.” He smiles, and the girl pegs him with a piece of gravel. “Okay, she and her brother are friends of ours. We stay here for a month every summer.”

  “A month?” My eyebrows fly up. I can’t imagine any normal family affording that. “You mean in the RVs?”

  They nod. Oh, right. I forgot how many people actually live in Fort Wilderness part of the year. I guess that’s cool. If you like trees.

  “So where’s the rest of your families?” I ask, scanning around.
>
  “Different places. My parents are at the camper, sitting outside, having their nightly beers. Dina here”—he gestures to the girl on her phone—“is a year-rounder.”

  “You live here all year?” I ask her. I take a seat cross-legged across from them and start yanking at blades of grass poking through the gravel. “Why?” I laugh.

  She sits back against the tree. “Not all year. I live in Kissimmee. My dad manages Pioneer Hall, the restaurants and common area over there, so I’m around a lot, like when these guys visit during the summer.”

  “So you’re Dina,” I say. “And you two are . . .”

  “Jacob and Edward,” the older one says, and they all start laughing. “Sorry, I meant . . . I’m Luke, and he’s Han.” They stifle smiles this time.

  I’m pretty sure those are names from Star Wars. “Right, and I’m Chewbacca,” I say.

  We all laugh. Dina smacks them both on the arm. “They’re stupid and stupider is what they are. This is Rudy and Marcus.” She points out the younger, cuter one as Rudy and the older, taller one as Marcus. “They’re from Michigan or something.”

  “Minnesota,” Rudy says. He’s more my age, while Marcus looks like he might’ve just graduated high school or even be in college. Rudy has front teeth that slightly overlap each other, but it adds character to his smile. Marcus is a good six inches taller than his brother, and his hair in his face makes his expressions hard to read. Both seem like nice guys, but I can’t say I’m drawn to either one of them.

  “Minnesota? Wow. So, you’re forced on this trip every year?” I ask.

  Rudy shrugs. “I wouldn’t really say forced. It’s a family tradition, since before we were born. We come each summer in three RVs, go to the parks, come back by dinnertime, grill between the campers, then chill the rest of the night. Not a bad deal.”

  “Better than the Smokies,” Marcus adds.

  “Aw, yeah, the Smokies suck,” Rudy says, making a little gravel pile. “What about you?”

  “Me? Oh, uh, I didn’t want to come. My friends are all leaving for camp in a week. It’s my dad. He made us all come, so I won’t be seeing any of my friends again before school starts.”

  “And home is?” Marcus looks at me.

  “Jupiter.”

  “The planet?” Rudy has a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “The city in Florida.” Dork. Like I’ve never heard that one before.

  “Oh. Still cool,” he says. “Anyway, we’re planning something for tonight, and we need one more person. Dina’s brother usually plays with us, but he’s not up for it tonight.”

  “Why do you need one more person?” I ask.

  “Scavenger hunt, so the teams can be even. What about you? You up for it?”

  I’d done scavenger hunts before at Ranch Camp. My team, the Panthers, always won, because we had Sean as a secret weapon, and Sean was born to be a Navy SEAL. He could get into any building, steal anything, go anywhere without being seen. I, with a newfound penchant for passing out at unexpected moments, was probably not the best choice for this game.

  “I’m not that good at scavenger hunts,” I say. “There could be a dog barking right in front of my face, and I wouldn’t see it.”

  “Perfect, you’re with Dina then. Boys against girls,” Marcus says, getting up.

  “Hey!” Dina sneers at him. She gets up too and scoots next to me. “No offense, Haley. I know this place better than they do. But this is good. And your looks are bonus. You could get us anything we want. Go ahead, Marcus, give us the list.”

  Could get us anything we want? I register the look on Rudy’s face and the sudden interest in Marcus’s eyes. I don’t really see myself as hot or anything. And it’s not like Dina’s not pretty too, in a classic sort of way.

  I watch them interact, liking how they get along. You can tell they’ve known one another for a long time. You can also tell that Dina likes Rudy. Marcus may not be as cute as his brother, but he’s more in charge, which makes him sort of hot. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two folded sheets of paper. He hands Dina one. “Both teams have two hours, so at midnight we meet back here.”

  Whoa. What? I’m not sure I can stay out that long, but I’m not about to admit that to them. Not when they have free reign over their lives, whereas I answer to a dictator. Speaking of which, a text uncannily comes in from my dad—Hey what’s up?

  Dina looks at the list in her hand and smiles. I lean over to peer at it too as I reply to my dad with lots of exclamation marks and smiley faces, so he’ll know I’m just fine. There’s a long itemized list of things from around the campground, ranging from twenty points all the way up into the hundreds. “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “We take turns making this list every time we play. They made it this time.” She looks up at them. “I already told you guys it doesn’t exist.” She turns to me. “They actually think there’s buried treasure on Discovery Island, out on Bay Lake, but there isn’t. I’ve told you guys, there’s a fake pirate skeleton from back when it was open to the public, but that’s it. And this . . .”

  She points to the number two item, marked at three hundred points—pics from the west end of River Country? “This is guaranteed to get you kicked out of the campground forever, so don’t even think about it.”

  “What’s so great about pics from River Country?” I ask. I mean, yes, it was Disney’s first water park from when my dad was a kid, but . . . “Wait, I thought that place didn’t exist anymore.”

  All of a sudden it’s as if I’ve grown an extra two heads. Rudy laughs.

  Marcus slaps his arm. “Dude, it’s not like everyone knows. Haley, it’s been closed for years, but it’s still back there. Closed off to the public.”

  Dina points into the distance. “It’s behind Pioneer Hall, right next to the lake. You can see a little bit from a boat. But these guys want west-end pics, which is from the side you can’t see. Not gonna happen, guys.”

  “Why will it get us kicked out?” I ask.

  She tilts her head at me and my apparently stupid question. “Because it’s trespassing. Every fanatic that tries to break in and take pics gets arrested. They’re never allowed back in, trust me.” Dina’s talking straight to Rudy now. This girl does not want her summer crush banned from returning to her.

  “Whatever, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Marcus shrugs. “I just put it there for shits and giggles.”

  Dina points to another item right under it. “And we also can’t bring back the troll that lives in River Country, because there isn’t one. You guys are morons.”

  Marcus’s amused eyes reflect the campfire’s glow. “I don’t know, Dina. People say they’ve seen him lurking in the darkness, feeding on scraps from Pioneer Hall. I think you and other Disney folk are just protecting him because he watches over the place and you feel sorry for him.”

  Dina scoffs. “Yes, and the real Seven Dwarfs’ house is in your loop too. It’s the cute little RV with the seven mailboxes in the back.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. So the rest of the list is doable?” Rudy looks around for approval.

  “Let’s see. . . .” I read aloud. “A metal bucket from the Hoop-Dee-Doo Revue, a live rabbit—a live rabbit?” I look around at their amused faces. “A pool net from Guest Services, a saddle from the Tri-Circle-D Ranch, a swing seat from any kids’ playground, and an oar. You guys really go for stolen goods.” Man, my camp’s scavenger hunts were all about finding stupid things, like pinecones and shells.

  Marcus hands the list to his brother. “Midnight, we reconvene. Losing team buys the other team pizza for the rest of the week plus sexual favors. Ready?”

  “You wish.” Dina averts her eyes shyly, but I can tell she might not mind that one.

  Rudy runs a hand through his hair. I don’t think he even caught on to Dina’s expression, because he’s too busy check
ing me out. “So you guys use Dina’s cart, and we’ll use ours.”

  Dina opens a cinched tote bag and distributes four flashlights. Marcus helps his brother to his feet, then claps once. “Are we all ready?”

  “May the best team win.” Rudy smiles, then heads off toward their cart.

  “That would be us,” Dina says as she leads me away. “They are so going down.”

  “It’s cool that you guys stay friends every year,” I tell Dina, testing the waters.

  “It is.” There’s a touch of sadness in her voice, but I won’t pry.

  We walk to a row of electric carts located behind the gravel pit I parked in. “You play this game every day?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Nah. Maybe twice in a summer. It’s become a tradition the past couple of years. You’re not going to get in trouble, right? For being out late?”

  “I might have to let my dad know where I am,” I say, feeling like a baby for admitting that. “He’s more overprotective than a hundred SPF sunblock, but I think I’ll be all right.”

  “A hundred SPF sunblock!” Dina laughs out loud, and I smile.

  I omit any talk of seizures, although technically I’m supposed to let people who are alone with me know about them and what to do in case of one. But I only had one and it was months ago, with no recurrence, so it just seems stupid to bring it up.

  “Be totally sure you can stay out before we start.” She unplugs a custom-painted blue electric cart from the charging station, gets in the driver’s seat, and turns the key. I get in beside her and hold on as she pulls out. The hot night air suddenly surrounds us, and I revel in the freedom. “Because we’re starting with the River Country pics.”

  I stare at her. “I thought you said you could get kicked out for trespassing.”

  “I said they could get kicked out.” She steps on the gas and weaves through the Meadow Trading Post’s sidewalks as only a resident would. “But I know this place inside out. My dad works here, remember? They’d slap my wrist at most. And you’re with me, so I’ll just take all the blame.”

  My dad would kill me if he knew what I was doing, but then again, he might think it’s cool, since he had a blast there when he was little. It’s hard to tell. A smile spreads across my face, the first real smile since I left Jupiter. Photos of an abandoned water park would be a kick-ass thing to brag about.