Tremolo

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  Chapter 31

  Shadow’s baying roused us from our sad reverie. Elsbeth and I exchanged a surprised look, and then ran outside to see what had driven the little beagle to such a state. We stood on the porch, shading our eyes against the strong mid-morning sun. Shadow flashed past us, racing along the shore. He howled and dashed after a water-skier who was being towed past the docks by a speed boat.

  “Come on!” I hastened after him, beckoning the twins to follow.

  The dog was going nuts. The boat turned at the end of the cove and pulled the skier back in the direction of camp. Within seconds, Shadow appeared again, racing back along the shoreline. He yipped and ran as fast as his short legs would carry him. He didn’t stop, but ran past us, oblivious to our shouts.

  “Shadow!” I hollered.

  He continued with his frenzied chase. His tail whipped back and forth, his legs blurred in motion, and he zoomed out of sight.

  Shrugging, I beckoned the twins toward the living room porch. We settled on the glider and watched the action for half an hour. Finally, the boat slowed and the woman sank slowly into the lake, releasing her skis and handing them over the side of the boat to her husband. I recognized the couple as the newlyweds who rented the cabin the Murphys had just vacated.

  Shadow trotted toward me, tongue lolling and bits of foam flecked along his jaw. His eyes shone with pure joy. He snuffled against my ankles and leaned into me for what he probably thought were congratulatory pats. After circling around a few times, he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep at my feet.

  William rounded the corner. We squeezed together to make room. He flopped heavily onto the glider, stretched out his long legs, and released a sigh.

  “I’m sick and tired of being bossed around.” His expression was petulant, his eyes narrow.

  “What’s wrong?” Elsbeth asked in her little girl voice.

  He snorted, jumped up, and stomped over to the red and silver Coca Cola machine. Digging into his jeans pocket, he found a nickel, pushed it into the slot, and stabbed at the button. “Oh, nothin’ really. They’ve just been working me like a dog all morning. I’ve been hauling suitcases, moving kitchen supplies, cutting up firewood, and washing pots and pans. I’m pooped.”

  He inserted the bottle under the cap remover. With a practiced flick of the wrist, the metal cap flew off and he lifted the bottle to his lips, draining half of it in seconds.

  We watched him enviously. Our eyes followed his movements until he’d emptied the bottle. He tipped it up to get the last few drops, and then placed it in the rack of empties beside the machine.

  “You kids thirsty?” he asked matter-of-factly.

  “You bet,” Sig said.

  Elsbeth and I nodded eagerly, watching him pull out three more nickels.

  “It’s on me today, kids. And by the way, I have something for you to try.”

  We gathered around him, eagerly holding out our hands. I let Elsbeth and Siegfried go first, listening to the wonderful clink-clink of the coins tumbling down the chute and the resounding thunk of the bottles when they dropped into the bottom of the machine.

  After we opened our drinks, we settled back on the glider, thirstily lifting the thick green glass to our lips. I felt the worn, recycled glass against my tongue, savoring the taste of the coke bubbling down my throat.

  William reached into his pocket and took out a small yellow tin of Bayer aspirin. He looked furtively around, then squatted in front of us, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level. “You kids wanna get high?”

  “What?” I looked at him blankly.

  Elsbeth wrinkled her brow and Sig ignored him.

  He tried again. “You know, wanna feel kinda wild? Wanna fly to the moon?”

  It sounded interesting, but I was completely confused.

  “What are you talking about?” Siegfried asked.

  William popped open the tin of aspirin and moved closer to us. “Add some aspirin to your coke and you’ll go on a trip.” He fingered an aspirin. “Who’s up for it?”

  Siegfried shook his head. “No thanks.” He turned away and took a sip.

  Elsbeth looked at her twin and did the same, shaking her head. “No way. Not me.”

  “What about you, big guy?” William leaned closer to me, “It’s the latest rage. It won’t hurt you, it’ll just make you feel kinda silly.”

  I was silent, evaluating my options. If I said yes, I’d betray the twins. If I said no, I’d look chicken in front of William.

  “What’s the matter, ya scared?” he taunted.

  That pushed me over the edge. “No, I’m not scared. Go ahead. Do it.” I held out my bottle.

  He dropped the aspirin into it. It fizzed for a few moments while it dissolved.

  My grandmother came around the corner seconds after William snapped shut the container and slid it back into his pocket, looking nervous.

  “There you are, William. I’ve been looking all over for you. We have a new arrival.”

  William straightened suddenly and regarded my grandmother with a guilty smile. “Okay. Coming.”

  “Let’s go, boy. Chop, chop. It’s a big family and they need help with their bags.”

  “I’m on it.” He sprinted toward the steps. With a long-legged leap, he flew into the air and landed in the sandy dirt. Barely breaking stride, he churned in a full gallop up the hill.

  She dusted her hands together as if having finished a satisfying chore, smiled at us, and then followed William up the hill to the office.

  I gazed with interest at the contents of the bottle I still held. It didn’t look different. I lifted it in the air and swirled it around.

  “Are you gonna drink it?” Elsbeth’s brown eyes opened wide. She pushed a wayward lock of curls back over one ear. She cocked her head and pursed her ribbon-curved lips. “Gus? Aren’t you scared?” She tapped the back of my hand.

  Siegfried sat still, studying me. I wondered if he were calculating the odds of my decision. Chances of boy choosing reckless danger over safety. His vivid blue eyes bored into mine.

  I lifted the bottle to my face and sniffed. It smelled like Coke. I tilted the bottle and took a sip.

  I didn’t feel a thing. Disappointed, I took another drink, longer this time. Nothing.

  Shrugging, I chugged it. Besides a slightly gritty taste at the end of the bottle, it seemed normal.

  The twins watched me carefully.

  I downed the last few drops, trying to imagine what I was supposed to feel. I came up with nothing. Would I see swirling colors, feel dizzy? Would my vision become distorted? I sat for several minutes, waiting for it to happen. I stood up and felt a little lightheaded, and then grabbed Siegfried’s arm when I lost my balance.

  “Gus!” whispered Siegfried fiercely. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head to clear it. Probably just my imagination.

  Although I never took anything but the orange chewable aspirin, I’d seen my mother swallow two aspirin tablets with a glass of water off and on for years. They made her headaches go away, that was all.

  I straightened and felt perfectly normal. “Heck, it’s probably just a joke. I’m just fine.” I dropped my empty in the rack and walked steadily toward the sundeck. “Come on. Let’s do some sweeping.”

  Chapter 32

  I swept the pine needles from the sun porch deck and thought about the news my parents delivered the night before.

  I’m gonna have a little sister or brother.

  Siegfried and Elsbeth moved next door when I was five, and that was just about the best thing ever happened to me. I adopted them as my own siblings, and we’d been the Three Musketeers of Sullivan Hill ever since.

  On the sundeck, four ladies sunbathed with their eyes closed. Some wore shorts and tops, others bathing suits. Mrs. Herring had been holding a reflector under her chin, but she fell asleep and it lay useless on her midriff. Magazines tumbled from the loosened grips of two ladies who’d also fallen asleep.

  Is it the Maine
air that zonked them out? Are they really asleep?

  They seemed to be completely unaware of my presence. I picked up a slippery bottle of Coppertone suntan lotion and set it on the railing. Trying not to stir up dust clouds, I made an effort to sweep quietly while they dozed on the yellow webbed lounge chairs.

  I worked methodically and began to think about the baby again. Would a little brother or sister affect my relationship with Siegfried and Elsbeth? Would I have to babysit instead of boating or swimming all summer? The child would be almost twelve years younger than me. When I was in college, he or she would be in first grade. I stopped and thought about how strange it would be to have a baby in our house. Would he move in with me, or would he get the spare room? I imagined my mother would redecorate the spare room with goofy baby stuff, and shook my head fervently, wishing it had never happened. As awful as it sounds, I didn’t want to share my parents with another child.

  The twins lounged on deck chairs in the far corner. I’d indulged their sudden desire to rest and snatched the broom from Elsbeth’s limp fingers. The Maine air seemed to be affecting them as well.

  The sun burned the back of my neck as I pushed the broom along the floorboards. When I finished, I walked over to the twins and propped the broom against the railing. I blocked Siegfried’s sun, trying to will him to look at me. He lay shirtless with his cutoff jean shorts and sandals. His long brown legs stretched straight out, nearly touching the end of the lounge chair. A multitude of fine gold hairs glistened on his calves. I compared them to my own tan legs, examining the fawn colored soft hairs creeping up to my thighs. I wondered when I’d start to get black hairs all over, like William.

  After several seconds, Sig opened his eyes.

  “Ready for a swim?” I asked.

  He nodded, but closed his eyes again.

  Elsbeth unfurled and stretched her arms toward the sky. “Can I have the first turn on the rope swing?”

  She looked drowsy and innocent. I felt a pang of affection for her and decided to be magnanimous. “Okay. You can go first.” I held out my hand to her.

  She pulled herself up, smiling coyly at me. “Thank you, Gus.”

  Siegfried sat up, rubbing his eyes. He began to speak in German, but quickly corrected himself and switched back to English. “I dreamt about Candy Land. It felt so real. Lollypop trees and licorice growing out of the ground. Rock candy as big as that boulder.” He motioned toward a large granite rock under the trees. “We climbed on it and it sparkled like a diamond.” Sitting up, he ran his hand through his shaggy locks and gave us a broad grin.

  “Keen,” Elsbeth said.

  “Neat.” I imagined the slippery feel of a giant crystal boulder that tasted like sugar.

  The twins stood and we headed toward our cabins. By the time we passed the living room, we were pounding along the porch boards in an easy sprint.

  I ran in the lead and leapt from the top of the porch steps to the ground. Although I’d done it a hundred times already that summer, my foot slipped and I fell hard onto the ground. My knee scraped along a pine root, splitting the skin over my kneecap. The pain was excruciating.

  I sat on the ground and examined the wound. “Atch. Oh, man. Atch,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The slang “atch” had replaced “Ow” several years ago, becoming the cooler, more mature way to express pain. I leaned over and blew on my scraped knee. The blood pooled up along the split in my skin.

  Elsbeth covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Gus.”

  Siegfried leaned over to help me up. I slung my arms over his shoulders and he helped me hop back to the cabin. The guest in Number Fifteen drew back her curtains and watched as I hobbled along.

  I waved to her to assure her I was all right.

  She waved back.

  Once inside, I realized both of my parents were gone. Dad had left to help my grandfather prepare for the lunch crowd, and my mother was doing laundry in the icehouse. Elsbeth took a handful of Vanity Fair paper napkins from the cabinet and wet them under the faucet. She handed them to me.

  I put my foot up on a kitchen chair, dabbing the knee gently and wiping away the dirt and blood.

  Something about the incident sparked a memory from a movie I’d seen. Something about blood brothers…It was a ritual, a coming of age kind of bonding that bound friends together for life.

  I looked back and forth between the twins. “We should become blood brothers.”

  Elsbeth looked at me dubiously. “What is that?”

  Siegfried’s eyes lit up. “Ja. Blood brothers,” he said, warming to the topic.

  Elsbeth suddenly understood. She lifted her right arm, examining a particularly good scabbed-over mosquito bite. She began to pick at it until a little prick of blood bubbled up to the surface.

  Siegfried found a scrape on his forearm and followed her example.

  “Easy now,” I said.

  One at a time, they pressed their wounds gently against my sore knee.

  “Now spit on it and rub it around to mix the blood,” I suggested.

  To complete the triad, they touched their own blood together in spite of the fact that they were already genetically bound. We held hands and bowed our heads.

  Siegfried began to chant. “This ceremony binds us together as blood brothers for life. We will be lifelong friends until the day we die.”

  Elsbeth added, “Until the day we die. Amen.”

  We lowered our hands and nodded solemnly to one another. I finally sat down on the chair, and dabbed at the cut again with the wet wad of napkins. “It’s stopping now,” I said, relieved I wouldn’t need a Band-Aid. It would just fall off when we went swimming, anyway. We agreed to meet at the rope swing in five minutes.

  Chapter 33

  After changing into my swimsuit, I bolted back to the living room porch just in time to see Elsbeth wrap her hands around the rope and swing out over the water. She dropped into the lake with a splash, was submerged for several seconds, and then popped to the surface. She swam back to the ladder on the side of the dock.

  I dropped from the porch onto the boulder next to Siegfried, who caught the rope on its return swing and generously handed it to me.

  “Go ahead, Gus. Take a turn.”

  “Thanks, Sig.” I stood on the sun-warmed boulder in bare feet and looked out over the lake. The wind freshened, causing waves to ripple on the surface. The rope was thick and hemp fibers bristled between my fingers. I gripped with both hands above a big knot and pushed off, flying through the air. The sensation was stomach-twistingly delicious. Sailing through the bright sunshine, I shouted, “Geronimo!”

  I go of the rope and dropped into the lake with a big splash. It had taken me several tries last summer to perfect the move. The water rushed around me, roaring in my ears and shooting hundreds of bubbles upward in a rising flurry of yellow and green froth. My feet touched the soft sand and I pushed back up to the surface, exhilarated.

  Siegfried shouted, “Watch out below!”

  I stroked quickly away from his imminent touchdown.

  He landed three feet from me. I floated beside the boiling circle of water that was his mark.

  His head appeared and he grinned at me mischievously. “How many points if I’d landed on you, Gus?”

  I skimmed water toward his face and laughed when he returned the favor. We both decided to swim back to the boulder on shore, instead of climbing up the ladder. I reached the shore first and stepped onto a submerged rock to gain access to the sloping hillside. I shot my hand out to balance on the smooth white bark of the cluster of white birches that swayed over the lake. A taller pine supported the rope swing.

  Elsbeth sailed by over my head. I quickly climbed up the staircase of warm boulders, then reached up and grabbed the rope on its return swing, ready for my second turn.

  We swam and laughed until lunchtime, then dispersed to our cabins to rejoin our families and deal with the issues of the day. I imagined that Siegfried and Elsbeth had a more t
rying time than I did, although I suffered through discussions of baby names until I thought I’d throw up.

  Nicole, Anna, Pamela, Loretta, Sylvia.

  John, Raymond, Maxwell, Wayne, Richard.

  I chewed miserably through my tuna sandwich until my mother rose and returned from the kitchen with a hot pan filled with chocolate pudding.

  “I made this especially for you, honey.” She spooned the pudding into

  three glass dishes.

  I looked up at her in surprise. Dessert at lunch was a rare treat. “Why, Mum?”

  She smiled at me and took her place at the table, blowing across a spoonful of hot pudding. “Well, I just want you to know that you’ll always be special to me. Having this new baby won’t change that one little bit.”

  I glanced at her, hoping she hadn’t sensed my small-minded thoughts of jealously. The guilt slid down my throat along with the hot chocolate pudding. It landed in my stomach and sat there pooling as I mentally kicked myself for thinking bad tempered thoughts about the baby-to-be.

  I smiled weakly at my parents.

  I almost lifted the dish to lick it, and then thought better of it. I pushed my chair back and carried my dishes to the kitchen. To salve my guilt-ridden soul, I began to wash the dishes with water my mother had boiled in the stockpot on the stove.

  Both parents followed me into the kitchen, bringing the remaining dishes to the sink. They exchanged surprised glances.

  My father frowned slightly. “Gus? Is everything okay?”

  I swirled some soap around in my glass and finally looked up at him. “Yeah, Dad. I just thought I should get used to helping out around here, what with the

  new baby coming and all.”

  My mother seemed shocked. She returned the milk to the Frigidaire and gently closed the door. “That’s very nice of you, honey.”

  I smiled and relaxed, feeling much better about my villainous thoughts toward the baby. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

  Chapter 34

  Officer Lawson returned at four o’clock as promised. The twins and I had just finished digging a pail full of worms from the dirt pile behind the icehouse. After covering it with moss, we stowed it underneath the sundeck in the shade to keep it cool for the evening fishermen, and then joined Officer Lawson in Grandfather’s boat. Together, we all headed for the west shore of the lake.