by Alex Lyttle
Sammy looked down at his shoulder inquisitively then looked over at me with eyes that asked, “What should I say?” I recalled the punch I’d given him the morning before. Had I hit him that hard? Sammy pulled down his sleeve and wiggled out from under Mom.
He shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t know where the bruise was from but Mom easily saw through it.
She glared at me.
“Cal?” she asked sternly.
I didn’t reply. I knew there was no way out of it.
“You have to stop being so rough with your brother. Look at his arm. He’s not a punching bag.”
I considered explaining that I had barely hit him but decided it was a waste of breath. “Sorry, Sammy,” I said.
We walked to the garage and grabbed our bikes under Mom’s continued stare. I could tell she was debating whether or not to continue the lecture, so I jumped on my bike and started riding away quickly.
“Hey! Wait up!” I heard Sammy yell from behind.
The sun was already above the trees and the humid Ontario heat seeped through our clothes. There wasn’t so much as a wisp of wind to dull the onslaught.
We turned out of our driveway onto County Road 11 pedalling at an ill-advised pace. Sammy’s bike was a lot smaller so he had to pedal twice as hard to keep up. Fifteen minutes later, we were verging on heat stroke as we turned down Thornton Road. My mouth felt like sandpaper and my shirt was drenched with sweat.
“Almost…there…” I heard Sammy gasp from behind as we closed in on Mr. Wilson’s old house. His bike swerved left and right as he laboured to push down the pedals.
When we neared the long driveway that led to the Wilson’s, I heard a dog barking, distant and nonthreatening at first, but closer with each successive cry. Looking down the driveway, I saw a large black dog barrelling down on us. Immediately all the exhaustion I had just felt dissipated and a wave of adrenaline surged through me. Head down, knuckles white, I pedalled hard and fast past the driveway. I didn’t think to turn around until I had gone a hundred metres down the road. Finally—out of breath and lightheaded—I turned around to a horrific sight.
Sammy lay flat on his back with his bike beside him. The dog was on top of him, pouncing at his face while Sammy kicked and flailed to push him back. My mind reeled as I thought of a way to help. Two boys were no match for an angry dog. I looked around for a rock or branch or anything to use as a weapon but there was nothing. All the while, Sammy’s screams echoed down the country road. Just before I had made up my mind to pedal back and take my chances with the dog, I heard another voice.
“Chloe, stop! Stop that right now!”
Running down the driveway was the older girl I had seen in church.
“Bad dog, Chloe!” she said, reaching where Sammy lay shrieking on the ground. She grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled it off Sammy.
I pedalled back over and dropped my bike beside Sammy’s. He wasn’t the gory mess I’d expected. A single stream of blood trickled from his knee down his shin but that was the only sign of injury I could make out on his whole body.
“Are you okay, Sammy?”
He looked shocked and a little upset but he wasn’t crying.
“That dog knocked me off my bike and slobbered on me,” he said, with a pouting face. “And you just rode away.”
He looked on the verge of tears and I felt my face flush as the girl looked at me. Great first impression, I thought.
“I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am,” the girl said as she held back the dog that was still trying to pounce at Sammy as if it were some sort of game. “She has a thing about chasing bicycles but she’s completely harmless, I promise.”
Sammy seemed satisfied by this and stuck out his hand to let the dog lick him. He giggled and pulled his hand back again, the pouting gone.
“I’m Raquel,” the girl said, turning to me, “we just moved here last week.” She stuck out her hand and I shook it.
“I’m Cal,” I said. “I think we saw you in church.”
“Oh, yeah, I thought you two looked familiar.”
Her huge smile revealed rows of perfectly straight, white teeth and she had the same green eyes I’d noticed in her sister.
“I’m Cal’s brother,” Sammy said, holding out his hand. Raquel bent down slightly so she was closer to his height and shook it.
“Yes, I can see that. You two look really alike. What’s your name?”
“Sammy,” he said, a broad smile crossing his face as he looked over at me. He loved when people said we looked alike. I hated it. We looked nothing alike! Okay, the brown hair and eyes maybe, but I was like a foot taller and not chubby.
“I made you some cookies,” Sammy said, turning back to Raquel and holding up his knapsack. He put it on the ground and unzipped the top, but when he looked inside his face showed utter disappointment. He pulled out the Tupperware container but instead of chocolate chip cookies it now appeared to contain a blob of melted, slimy dough.
Raquel picked up on this immediately.
“Oh, thank you, Sammy! I bet if we put them in the fridge they’ll be as good as new in no time. It’s boiling out here. Why don’t you guys come inside and have a drink? I have fresh lemonade.”
“Okay!” we agreed.
As we walked down the driveway toward the house, I noticed the curtains in one of the rooms upstairs close quickly—someone had been watching us.
CHAPTER 6
THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE SHOWED EVIDENCE OF A RECENT ARrival. Unpacked boxes were scattered around the kitchen while piles of wrapping paper lay in the corner. Raquel went about getting Sammy and I lemonade while we sat at the table.
“So where did you guys move from?” I asked.
“We just moved from London,” Raquel replied, rooting around in the fridge as she spoke, “Have you guys always lived out here?”
“No, we’re from London too. We moved here two years ago so my parents could have a change of scenery,” I said, with much more disdain in my voice than I’d meant.
“Yeah? I guess you could say the same about us. We needed a change of scenery.”
Raquel placed a tall glass of lemonade with ice in front of each of us, then walked toward the back hall. “Stay here a minute, okay? I’ll be right back. I want you guys to meet someone.”
I sat drinking my lemonade in silence for a minute, staring at the pulp floating aimlessly in the glass. When I looked up at Sammy I noticed he was doing the same, but not in the anxious way I was—his face had gone back to looking upset. I knew why.
“Jeez, I thought you were a goner back there,” I said, trying to force a laugh.
“Yeah…”
Sammy’s voice was quiet and he didn’t look up from his glass.
“As soon as I saw that dog coming, I didn’t even think, I just pedalled as fast as I could.”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh come on, Sammy, you can’t blame me for riding away. I thought you were right behind me.”
No reply.
I hated when Sammy was upset. He’d adopted the same guilt trip method Mom used on us when she was mad. No matter what I said or did he would continue to sulk and time was the only Band-Aid.
Raquel walked back into the kitchen. She paused momentarily before speaking, as if what she were about to say required planning. “I wanted you to meet my sister, Aleta, but she’s…not feeling too great today so she’s going to stay up in her room.”
“Maybe she’s got the flu,” Sammy suggested. “I had it and Mom said I had a feber.”
“Fever,” I mumbled under my breath.
Raquel gave a thin-lipped smile. “No, she doesn’t have the flu. She, well, she’s just not feeling herself today.”
Sammy seemed to be mulling this over in his head. While he did, Raquel turned to me.
“How old are you, Cal?” she asked.
The question caught me off guard. I felt like an idiot when I had to stop and think before I answered.
“El
even,” I said.
“So you’re going into grade six next year?”
“Yep.”
“And you go to Huxbury Elementary, right?”
“Yep.”
“Do you think you boys can keep something between just the three of us?”
“Sure,” we both answered simultaneously.
“I’m a little worried about my sister. She’s going to Huxbury Elementary at the end of the summer and she won’t know anyone. She hasn’t spoken much since…well, for a few months now, and I think it would be really good if she got to know someone before school started, especially someone in her own grade.” She looked at me. “She’s shy though, so maybe it would be easier if you’d just go up and try to talk to her. Would you mind?”
I shrugged and said I didn’t mind.
Raquel led me up a set of blue-carpeted stairs to a hall of doors. She knocked on the first and a quiet voice replied, “Who is it?”
“It’s me again. I brought someone who wants to say hi.” She gave me a nod toward the door.
There was a long, awkward pause while I stood waiting. Finally, the door creaked open and the same girl I’d seen in church stood looking at the ground in front of me.
“Hi, umm, I’m Cal, I think I might be in your class next year so I just wanted to say hello.”
“Hi,” she practically whispered back, her eyes still on the floor.
Raquel retreated back down the stairs, leaving the two of us alone.
“Umm, so I hear you are going to Huxbury next year,” I repeated. “I thought maybe it would be cool to get to know each other. I only started there last year and, man, I’d wished I’d known someone beforehand. It’s not an easy place to fit in, especially being from the city. Most of the kids grew up out here and know each other pretty good. If you wanted to, you know, hang out or whatever, we only live a few kilometres down County Road 11.”
She didn’t speak but I thought I saw her head nod slightly. At least a few hairs on her head seemed to shake a little. That was enough for me.
“Maybe we could go for a bike ride or something? Do you have a bike?”
Again, only a slight nod, this time a little more obvious.
“I could come by tomorrow morning and meet you. We could bike into town and I could show you the school. It’ll be empty and locked, but at least I can show you the playground.”
She hung her head lower so that her hair drooped over her face. The only noise in the room was her sock on the carpet as she toed at some invisible object on the ground. We stood for what seemed like an hour. If she had thought that maybe I would leave, she was wrong. I stood waiting for an answer. Had I known back then that it would never come, that Aleta’s voice had left her months before, I wouldn’t have waited so long.
“Okay, is that a yes?” I finally asked.
Sensing that I wasn’t leaving without confirmation, she looked up. Glints of the sun streaming through the window reflected off her eyes and in them I saw something I couldn’t quite place. She studied me momentarily, perhaps deciding what my intentions were. Satisfied with what she saw, she nodded and whispered, “Sure,” in a voice that was only perceptible because the house was midnight silent.
“Okay, great. I’ll come by around nine,” I said.
I tried to play it cool but a sheepish grin spread across my face. She closed the door without another word and I felt as light as a dust speck floating through the air as I walked back downstairs.
Sammy and Raquel were chatting away at the kitchen table. He looked happier and his trademark sulk wasn’t there anymore.
“How’d it go?” Raquel asked, as I walked into the room.
“Good. We’re going to hang out tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened and she stared at me, scanning my face for the hint of a joke.
“She said she’d go out tomorrow? That—that’s wonderful,” she stammered.
It was wonderful. I finally had someone my own age to hang out with. And despite the obvious problem that conversation would be difficult, I was looking forward to a day without constantly explaining things or being relied on. Besides, having someone around who was a little on the quiet side would be a nice change.
“Yep, I’ll be by tomorrow at nine for a bike ride.”
CHAPTER 7
FIRSTS OF ANYTHING ARE OFTEN EASY TO REMEMBER—LIKE THE first time I went to a movie theatre or my first day of Kindergarten. That first bike ride with Aleta will forever be a part of my memory, but I’ll write about it all the same.
I’d hoped to be the first up that morning but I found Sammy’s bunk already empty when I climbed down from my own. Teeth brushed, hair wet to flatten the cowlick where I’d slept, I headed downstairs to find Mom, Dad and Sammy sitting around the kitchen table.
“Ah, the young prince has arisen. I hear you have a date today,” Dad said, taunting me from behind his morning paper.
“It’s not a date,” I mumbled, sitting down in the empty chair.
“Harold, stop teasing the kids,” Mom scolded.
“Teasing? Who’s teasing,” Dad said with a smile. “So, what’s she like, where’s she from, are you going to take her somewhere fancy or low key?”
“It’s not a date,” I repeated. “We’re just going for a bike ride.”
“Ah, low key it is. I like your style. I remember the first time I took your mother out. Red Lobster on a Saturday night. Would have been a perfect evening if I’d remembered my wallet.”
“It was Oscar Taylor’s, and seriously, stop, or he’ll never talk to another girl as long as he lives.”
“Oscar Taylor’s? Really? Huh, Red Lobster must have been with someone else. Hard to keep track of them all.” Dad winked at Sammy and me.
Mom rolled her eyes and got up to clear the table.
Sammy had been sitting patiently watching Dad torment me with a grin on his face—he thought Dad was hilarious.
“Mom packed us some snacks for our bike ride,” Sammy said, finally having his time to talk.
The night before, as I’d lay in bed imagining my bike ride with Aleta, Sammy had not been in the picture. How could I have been so stupid? Of course Sammy would have assumed he was invited. He was like the leech that got stuck to my foot one time in the creek—impossible to get rid of. The thought crossed my mind to tell him he wasn’t allowed to come, but I knew it would only encourage Dad’s teasing so I let it go. Maybe having Sammy there for the first time I hung out with Aleta might not be such a bad thing. At least if the conversation went completely dry he’d be there with one of his usual comments about the clouds looking like animals or the cornfields looking beautiful. If anything, he might be good for comic relief.
After a short breakfast, we grabbed our bikes off the lawn where we’d left them and set out on our way. It was another hot, humid day but this time we packed water. I was anxious to get there and had to yell at Sammy more than a few times to stop dawdling. I’d turn around to find him staring off in the distance, bike zigzagging back and forth over the gravel road.
“Hurry up, Sammy! Pay attention to where you’re going!”
He’d focus for a few minutes, face determined as he’d push heavily on his pedals to catch back up, only to forget two minutes later and start dawdling again.
Sometimes he’d yell something from behind but I’d pretend not to hear.
“Dad says it will be a good harvest this year because the corn is already so high,” he said. Then, two minutes later, “Cal, what’s a harvest?”
I was glad when I heard Chloe barking in the distance. We hopped off our bikes and walked them down the driveway so she wouldn’t topple us over. The door was closed so we knocked and waited. Heavy footsteps approached after a few minutes and the door opened to reveal the same man we’d seen in church with Aleta and Raquel.
Up close I could make out grey wisps throughout his beard and he didn’t look especially happy to see us. His eyes scanned Sammy and me then he motioned us to come inside without saying a word
. We followed him into the kitchen where he pointed at the table.
“Have a seat here.” His voice had an accent sort of like Reverend Ramos and he didn’t sound very welcoming.
I looked at Sammy and was glad to see he looked every bit as nervous as I felt.
After a moment, we heard voices, low, but distinct, coming from upstairs. I strained my ears to hear but couldn’t, so I stood up and walked over to the edge of the kitchen. Sammy waved at me to come back. He looked scared. From my closer spot I could make out the voices and most of what was said.
“I don’t like Aleta going out with some boys she only met yesterday,” I heard Mr. Alvarado say.
“Aleta needs to get out of the house and do something. You’re the one who’s always saying that, so why are you suddenly so against her doing it?” The new voice was Raquel’s.
“I know, I know, but aren’t there any nice girls around here?”
“We don’t know anyone here yet and Aleta is eleven, she’s old enough to hang out with boys, and that’s something you’re just going to have to accept, Papa.”
“Well, it’s fine if you go too.”
Raquel let out an exasperated sigh.
“Papa, I’m sixteen years old, Aleta doesn’t need a babysitter anymore and besides, I don’t have a bike.”
There was a long, silent pause, then finally Mr. Alvarado spoke again.
“You come back before dinner, Aleta.”
I heard a door slam, then footsteps. They were coming back downstairs so I quickly darted back to the table. Mr. Alvarado entered, looked around, huffed and walked back out.
Man, was I glad Sammy had come. I was shaking all over I was so nervous. I would’ve felt more welcome in a woman’s washroom.
Sammy leaned in close and whispered, “Should we go?”
The idea had definitely crossed my mind. There was a big part of me that wanted to get up and run out of the house but then, there was an even bigger part of me that wanted to stay. I’m not sure exactly what it was but there was something about Aleta that made me want to get to know her—something intriguing. Maybe it was the Goosebumps book I’d seen her reading, or maybe it was the thought of having a friend a short bike ride away, or maybe it was that she was so pretty it was hard not to think about her. I dunno, but whatever it was it kept me glued to my seat until we heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
