Improper Fraction

by V. L. Locey

  Contented as a cat filled with warm milk, I began leafing through my camper’s forms, trying to get a feel for them and their likes. When I got to the last form, I felt myself smiling. Emily Rook. I sat up and shoved the other forms under my backside.

  “Way to go, Emily.” I murmured as I read over her academic accomplishments over the past few years. Honor roll, math club president, and one fine track star but I knew all of this already. We did live right next door to the Rooks. I was the one who first brought the camp to her attention over Christmas break. The one that Garrison couldn’t or wouldn’t come home for, of course, just like all the other holidays. Ugh. Who cares, O’Malley? Just forget about the jerk, will you?

  Right. Back to Emily. I just knew she’d be welcomed into the G.R.A.M.S. program and I had been right. I couldn’t be prouder if she were my own sister. “Way to go,” I whispered again then folded her form neatly and added it to the others under my butt. This summer was going to be one to remember. I could feel it right down to my long bare toes sticking out of my sandals.

  ***

  “…then we were all trying to play in dresses for charity.” Alex chuckled as the new red gravel on the lakeside path crunched under our sneakers.

  “I hope a few members of the tennis team had the legs for it.” I commented, my gaze on the shimmering lake and the fat round moon reflecting on its surface.

  “Not a one,” Alex dryly said, and I laughed. I liked this. I liked Alex. He was easy and comfortable like an old sweater. There was no madness or thundering passion as there had been with Garrison. Nope, none of that bullshit, not anymore. There was soft warmth every time my eyes met his. That was what I was looking for now. I was done with letting wild emotion rule me, be it love or lust. I’d spent eighteen years loving one man followed by a couple of years lusting after numerous men. Neither of those experiences had gotten me a damn thing but the feeling of an empty life and heart. Now I had other goals and Alex and his soft warmth were fitting in just fine. “You did hear me, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, none of your teammates had the legs to pull off the dresses,” I replied as we sauntered past the boat dock. Several canoes lay on the gently sloping back, ready for the kids to jump into them. A bullfrog sounded off ahead of us.

  “That was a few sentences ago,” Alex said. I stopped short to stare at him. He gave me a wobbly smile. The moon’s glow made his black hair glow deep blue. “I was asking you if you play any sports.”

  “Wow, I am so sorry.” I pushed my glasses back up sheepishly. “I was lost in thought I guess. No, I’m not a sporty kind of guy.”

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping we could maybe grab an early run or something before the kids roll in.” He nudged one of the canoes with the tip of his shoe.

  “I’m a good walker.” I chimed up and that got a smile to appear on his face. He had a lovely smile and a nice mouth. “We can walk in the morning. There’s some great wildlife trails around here.”

  “Sounds good,” he said when we stepped apart. We walked back to our cabins, discussing the Pythagorean Theorem and our favorite Netflix shows then parted ways at his door. It was such a relief to finally have my life, and feelings, all in a nice, neat, secure row. I fell asleep that night while watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding for the thousandth time on my phone, contented with the world, and the knowledge that my ducks were perfectly parallel.

  Three

  You want to know the bad thing about having those mental ducks in a tidy row? The little feathered shits never stay that way for long. Mine had been swimmingly merrily along with military precision until ten minutes after three in the afternoon the following day. That was when a big blue Chevy truck rolled into our little sheltered camp as I was directing a lanky teenager to her proper cabin. I know because I checked my watch.

  Hand shielding my eyes, I watched as the Silverado stopped in front of Professor Belshaw’s wildly decorated cabin right beside Lake Amalie. The professor had gotten all her wind chimes hung that morning. Each one was a brilliant and some would say garish color. They clattered and clanged with each touch of a breeze off the lake. She had made them all out of silver soup spoons and old silver teapots. Then she had painted them to match her whims. Professor Belshaw had incredibly colorful whims so it seems.

  When the passenger door opened, I felt a wide smile break free as I saw Emily Rook slide to the ground, her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. I wasn’t familiar with the Silverado but had to assume that Mr. Rook had gotten a new ride. Since I hadn’t spent much time at home after graduation due to a graduation gift of a vacation in Palm Beach from my father, it was quite likely that he had. That old minivan he had owned had been creeping toward the junkyard for a couple of years. Emily spun in a circle and then found me standing in the gravel path. She waved frantically while jumping up and down. I did the same. Then Garrison Rook exited that massive blue Silverado. My arm crashed numbly to my side and all happy jumping died.

  My first thought was “God above but he looks amazing!” which was quickly followed by “I think I may puke!” but I managed to hold down my lunch. Emily pointed in my direction. The sloppy joe from my midday meal rolled over in my stomach. Garrison’s dark eyes found and held me. He looked incredible. Even more handsome now that he had lost those final touches of boyhood. Garrison was all man now. Every single, athletic, heartbreaking, lying inch of him.

  “Shit.” I groaned and swallowed. I was sure my sandwich and chips were going to come back up. Someone appeared beside me. I couldn’t rip my attention from Garrison as we stared at each other.

  “Never eat the fried oysters.” Professor Belshaw barked with glee then drove a sharp elbow into my side. “Ah, I see the Rooks have arrived!” She waved them over. I felt like a hare that the hounds had just sighted. “O’Malley, if you don’t close your mouth one of these damn deer flies is going to zip right in and land on your tongue,” she said as she waved a hand at a pesky fly buzzing around our heads.

  I forced my jaw to come up. Every step Garrison and Emily took made my pulse speed up. By the time the two Rook siblings stood in front of me, I felt woozy. Were my ears ringing or was that tinny noise just one of Belshaw’s wind chimes?

  “Hello there.” Professor Belshaw grabbed one of Garrison’s large hands and pumped it. It took two of hers to cover one of his. He had strong hands. I clearly recalled how they had felt when he had run them over me that night in the treehouse. “It’s a real honor to have a Carolina Cutter in the camp!”

  I glanced at Emily. She averted her gaze as the camp owner fawned over Garrison. Emily knew there was tension between her brother and me, but I had never revealed to her what kind of upset had occurred. Why should I tarnish Garrison in her eyes? No one but my father knew of how this man had shredded me into ticker tape and then tossed me into the wind.

  “It’s a real pleasure to be here, Professor,” Garrison said. My skin prickled just hearing his voice. Was it deeper? It sounded it. His brown eyes never left me as he talked baseball with Professor Belshaw. I worked on keeping up with the conversation they were having but my mind kept drifting back. To better days, days when Garrison and I were the best of buddies riding our bikes through mud puddles, sleeping out in the treehouse during the summer, working on making a comic book that starred a baseball player who used math as his super weapon. Those memories assaulted me as I stood there staring at his hand clasped so tightly by Belshaw.

  “Isn’t it exciting, O’Malley?” Hearing my name pulled me out of childhood remembrances. My gaze flew to her then to Garrison. He now had his hand back, which was good. Would it look bad if I slugged him in the face and then stormed off? Probably.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about tomorrow’s activities.” I blatantly lied.

  “That’s our O’Malley.” Professor Belshaw laughed then draped a thin but firm arm over my shoulder. She smelled like wildflowers and paint. “Always trying to align life and keep it in numerical order.”

  “Well, I am a math te
acher.” I joked but the funny sounded lame to me.

  “Congrats on the degree, O’Malley,” Garrison said then offered me his hand. I stood there for several seconds glaring at his palm. His hand fluttered back to his thigh, which also looked to have grown since I had last seen him…or felt his leg under my fingertips. “You always did have the gift of teaching others.”

  “Thank you.” My lips were so compressed I’m not sure how I managed to push those two words past them. I needed to get away from this. I actually started to turn to leave when Professor Belshaw’s fingers dug into my shoulder.

  “Forgive our senior counselor, Garrison, he’s probably got a thousand things vying to get his attention,” Professor Belshaw said to try to cover my rudeness. Garrison nodded and tried to smile, but it failed. “Why don’t I let you all get settled into your cabins and I’ll drop by with the athletic guidelines after dinner. How does that sound, Garrison?”

  “That’ll be just fine, Professor.” Yes, his voice had gotten deeper, and it held just a tiny hint of a new accent. Canadian I assumed. It changed his pronunciation of a few small things, which made his speech stand out from the soft drawl the rest of we southerners have. It worked for him. Then again, anything worked for Garrison Rook. Wait. Did she say athletic guidelines? Since when do we have athletic guidelines?

  “Since when do we have athletic guidelines? This is a math and science camp.” I blurted out. Emily had inched back from the adults and was now slipping off to join a group of girls standing by the lake. I wished I could do the same but Belshaw had a death grip on my right shoulder. My arm was in danger of going numb soon.

  “It was brought to my attention that the girls need physical as well as mental stimulation. We don’t want to contribute to childhood obesity, do we?” my boss asked. I shook my head dully. “So, when Garrison here volunteered his services I jumped on his kind offer. Won’t the girls be thrilled to be lead through basic calisthenics and softball by a professional baseball player?”

  “I’m only in the minor leagues right now, ma’am,” Garrison quickly said. Was that humility I just heard? No, it couldn’t be. Garrison Rook was a shitty person who walked all over the people he vowed he would come back to. “I have some growing to do before I hit the pros.” He said it to her but his attention was on me. My sloppy joe reappeared as a sour belch.

  “I’ve heard. I have other things to attend to if you’ll excuse me?” I shook free of Professor Belshaw and stalked off, making sure my chin was up. I stumbled over a suitcase lying on the gravel then lowered my chin just enough to see the road. I had already made an ass of myself once over Garrison – I hated to do it a second time.

  ***

  I managed to avoid Garrison until we all gathered around a snapping campfire that night. I had seated myself with my ten girls, as had the other counselors. Since Garrison had no girls, he found himself sitting on a stump beside Professor Belshaw, who had dashes of brilliant yellow and red paint streaking her kinky gray hair. If the colorings were accidental or not it was hard to say. When Professor Belshaw stood up and raised one hand upward, all those seated around the campfire on log stumps quieted.

  “I am so happy to see all of you here,” she said. Her voice was boisterous and bounced off the cabins and trees. I kept my eyes on my girls. Emily was getting her long tresses braided by Lisa, a chubby girl from Pennsylvania. So far there had been little bickering among the campers under me, but it was only the first day. Wait a week. “You young ladies are the best of the best. The cream of the crop and the frank in the furter!”

  That always got a laugh from the campers. I glanced right to find Alex sitting amid his girls. He gave me a smile that I returned. Fuck you, Garrison Rook.

  “We are going to have a wonderful four weeks, I just know it. Your time is going to be filled with nature, math, science, and sports!” All the girls clapped. “As some of you who were here last year know we always have songs around the campfire every night. For those who are musically inclined, if you bring us a rousing song about math or science, we’ll sing your song too! Feel free to offer any songs you wish. Senior Counselor Ramsey will kick things off with one of my favorites.”

  She gestured to me, silver spoon bracelets that clinked when she waved her hand at me rattledloudly. I pushed my glasses up and got to my feet. I could feel every eye in the camp on me. Generally, that doesn’t bother me. This camp is like a second home. Knowing that Garrison was sitting twenty feet away staring at me made me edgy and uneasy. It made me mad that he still had that power over me. Just being in the same forest with the man scattered my thoughts like dandelion blows.

  “Right, so, why don’t we start with one of my favorites “The Integer Song”!”

  I made the mistake of scanning the crowd. Everyone seemed excited except Garrison, who appeared to be having some difficulty with the chosen song. His eyebrows had knotted up in the same way they always had. It made him look adorably lost. Oh man, O’Malley, you need to get a fucking grip.

  Diane strummed a few chords on a beat-up acoustic guitar and I began singing. Soon all the girls were singing along about how some signs add while different signs subtract. The song had a bouncy country beat that the kids always liked. Next, we handed the stage to Alex, who broke out a killer rap song about learning how to factor. We then had a chipper tune about the water cycle followed by the popular “Planets Song”.

  When the songfest was over, I escorted my group to their cabin. Emily lagged behind the clump of singing young women.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked after the others had filed into their cabin.

  “Sure, what’s wrong?” I sat down on the top stair leading up to their porch. Emily dropped down beside me. She exhaled dramatically then threw her long plait over her shoulder.

  “I know you’re super mad at Garrison for being here.”

  “That is absolutely not true.” I turned to the side to look at her. I was mad at Garrison for many things but not for being here. Well, okay, I might be a little mad about him being here but not super mad.

  “Then you’re mad at me for mentioning the camp to him?”

  “No, I am not. I love you more than cinnamon buns fresh from the oven on a cold day.”

  She gave me such a fabulous side eye I was nearly knocked unconscious by its magnitude and magnificence.

  “I know you and Garrison stopped talking after that night you two made out in the treehouse.” My jaw slapped my chest. “Did you guys break up because of me?”

  “First off,” I coughed once I could formulate words, “Garrison and I never made out in the treehouse.”

  “Please, O’Malley, I watched you two kissing from my bedroom window.”

  “No, you did not!” Thank God it was dark. My face was aflame. This conversation just was not happening.

  “Yeah, I did. Didn’t you know if you hang out my bedroom window and look to the right you can see right in that treehouse? I saw your dad headed to the treehouse so I ran down and cut him off. I figured you’d be less embarrassed if it was me who saw you and Garrison sucking face.”

  “I’m going to die from this.” I groaned then buried my face into my palms. My glasses smashed into my face.

  “Stop being so dramatic.” Emily sighed as only an almost-teen can. “I hope whatever happened between you two wasn’t because of me.”

  I lifted my red face from my hands. She was staring at me intently. I blew out a long breath and looked from Emily to the light beside the door. Moths of every size fluttered around the glowing yellow bulb.

  “No, what happened had nothing at all to do with you, Emily.” I wiggled closer then bumped her hip with mine. “Sometimes people change as they grow up. Most of the time it’s for the better but not always. Garrison and I changed.”

  “That makes me really sad,” she whispered softly. “I thought you and he were the closest of friends ever made.”

  “So did I.” I murmured before giving her a quick hug and pushing to my sand
als. “You need to stop worrying about your brother and your neighbor and just enjoy the heck out of the next four weeks.”

  “Are you and Garrison even talking?” she asked. It was the hope in her raspy question that did me in.

  “We haven’t yet but I’m sure we will. Now get on in there and get to bed. Lights out in five minutes.” I told her then gave her braid a playful tug. She rose from the stair looking as if she had the world’s heaviest heart. I could relate. “I mean it, Emily. Garrison and I will work it out.”

  She stopped walking and turned to face me. “Do you promise? He volunteered to help with the athletic program just so the two of you would be in the same place. He wants to be friends again, O’Malley. Will you promise me that you’ll at least try to make up?”

  “Yes, I promise I will do my best to work things out with your brother. Now skedaddle before you have to get into your jammies in the dark.” I made a scooting motion with my hand. She smiled then hustled inside, closing the door softly. Soft giggles floated out the window. I leaned on the railing and waited for the last light inside to be extinguished. Even when the cabin was dark, I could hear whispers and giggles but I didn’t tell them to quiet down. I meandered off, hands behind my back, trying to figure out if it were possible to work things out with Garrison while never seeing or talking to him. It seemed improbable to say the least. The best I could hope for was that Emily would forget the promise I had made her. On the other hand, I could just say to hell with my vow to a child. Adults did that everyday, right?