Chapter 10
The next morning Danny and I both slept late. It was the first time since I started bringing her with me to Beth’s that she wasn’t doing her little wake-up dance around my bed. Ma tapped on my door like a woodpecker drilling into my skull.
“Jo, Jo!” she whispered. Are you awake?”
“I am now,” I groaned.
“Harold’s here. He’s waiting downstairs.”
“So. Tell him to take a hike Ma.”
“I can’t tell him that. Be nice Jo. Come talk to him.”
“Ma, there you go with that nice crap again. It’s too early to be nice.”
“Watch your tongue Jo Frances.”
“For God’s sake Ma. Can’t a person get even one decent night’s sleep around here? What do I have to do? Move out! Is that what you want Ma? ’Cause that can be arranged!”
“Don’t be so ridiculous Jo. It’s only Harold. You don’t have to get so upset. Move out. Honestly. The things you say,” she sighed. I could hear her footsteps fade as she made her way back downstairs. By this time I was wide-awake. So was Danny. We both came out of our rooms at the same time and headed downstairs where Harold was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and stuffing a cinnamon bun into his pimply face.
“Hey Jo. Hey Danny,” he said, his mouth so full of pastry I could see it when he spoke. That was all I needed first thing in the morning. I thought I was going to be sick. “Beth and I thought you guys might like to go for a swim?” “Since when do you swim?” “I swim.”
“Yeah right. That’s a joke. The last time we went to the creek you barely stuck your toe in the water.”
“That’s ’cause it’s so repulsive. This is different. Beth’s gonna take us out to Sibley in her car. It’ll be fun eh. She said you can come too Dan.”
“Yahoo. Can I Jo? Can I?”
“It’s not up to me squirt. It’s up to Ma.”
“Ma? Please, please, please?” she begged. I thought she was going to wet her pants.
My head was starting to pound. I needed a cup of coffee and some sugar real bad. I grabbed one of Ma’s gooey cinnamon buns and poured myself a mug then headed outside to the back steps to think. Although it was shaded from the sun you could already feel the heat taking hold of the day. It was going to be another scorcher. I could hear Danny squealing with delight just like she did the night before at the creek, Harold’s boisterous laughter echoing over everything, and Ma laughing and kidding around with Harold. If I hadn’t known better I could have sworn that he was actually flirting with my mother. I shuddered and took a bite of the cinnamon bun and washed it down with the sweet milky coffee. Ma packed us a lunch of salami and tomato sandwiches on Joe’s fresh Italian crusty bread, last night’s chocolate cake, a jug of cherry Kool-Aid and celery sticks filled with Cheese Whiz for Danny. I threw my bathing suit on under my shorts, grabbed a couple of towels and baby oil, our ball and gloves and followed Danny and Harold out to Sally. Beth sat behind the wheel with a kooky straw sunhat—kind of like the ones Minnie Pearl wore with the price tag dangling from the side—perched on her head and was grooving to the car radio. She had on CKCK, which played rockand-roll pretty much all day except for smatterings of news and weather. Dack Mackay’s morning talk show was over, thank God. I actually called in once when this woman got me so mad I thought I was going to spit. She was raging about the hippies in Waverly Park and how they were all drug-crazed Communists and a sight for sore eyes to boot. I wasn’t exactly a hippie yet, that would come later, but I knew a lemon-sucking hypocrite when I heard one and that alone was enough to get my Italian blood boiling. Besides there was something about the longhaired, free-spirited kids that hung out in the park and down at Boulevard Lake that captured my imagination if not my heart. Most of them appeared much older than me and were admittedly a little strange but I liked it when they flashed their peace sign and loving kindness to everybody, even nerds like me and Harold. Anyway I called Dack the Mack and told him what I thought of the old battleaxe. He said in this sarcastic manner that I “presented my case well” and that I should “consider a career in criminal law when I grow up”. I didn’t appreciate old Dack’s patronizing attitude. That was the last time I ever listened to his show. Besides, who could take anyone who called himself Dack the Mack seriously anyway?
Every day with Beth was an adventure. She was full of surprises, both good and bad. The thing was you never really knew for sure what you were getting yourself into until you were in too deep to do anything about it. So there we were out on the Nipigon Highway heading east towards Sibley Park, the wind blowing our hair around our faces and rock-and-roll screaming from the radio, Sam perched between Dan and me like a little old man. He had a red-and-white bandanna tied around his neck and every now and then he would lean over to Dan and lick her face. He tried it with me once and I bopped him on the nose, not enough to hurt him, just enough so he got the message I didn’t like smelly dog kisses. Beth’s hat blew off as soon as we hit full speed on the highway and instead of stopping to retrieve it she just let it fly away like a bird that had been released from its cage. Under her hat she had tied a red-and-white bandanna just like the one around Sam’s neck and it struck me how much people resemble their dogs or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway the thought made me smile as I pictured Beth as a Golden retriever.
An hour later we arrived at the park, with its yellow sandy beach that stretched endlessly along the cold dark green waters of Lake Superior. Although it was only ten-thirty, the beach was already beginning to fill up with groups of teenagers and mothers with small children who dotted the shore with their colorful plastic pails and shovels. The smell of Coppertone, summer’s signature scent, filled the air with lighthearted cheer and goodtime freedom. We parked our blankets as close to the water as we could. Beth brought along a big red-and-white striped beach umbrella and positioned it between her and the sun. It was only when she pulled off her long denim skirt and her hand-embroidered dashiki that I realized just how pale she really was especially next to everyone else on the beach. Danny and I looked like a couple of Indians and even Harold whose fair Scandinavian skin tended to burn and peel was deep golden brown.
Somewhere inside my head I knew there was something horribly wrong with her although I couldn’t figure out what it was. After one of our cookie binges she stayed in the bathroom for a long time and when she came out she smelled like barf but I didn’t think much of it because I was ready to do the big Technicolor spit myself. Most of the time she had so much energy it was hard to keep up with her. So the lie I told myself was, that her thinness was just genetics in an extreme way because a lot of Finns I knew were like that. But looking at her under the umbrella with her legs as thin as toothpicks, her pelvic bones protruding from her bathing suit like little wings I was frightened.
Danny was already busy tossing a stick into the water for Sam to fetch. He swam out after the stick and diligently brought it back and dropped it at Dan’s feet. His big old body shook back-andforth as water flew all over Dan but she was oblivious. “Good boy,” she said as she threw the stick back into the water. I stood watching my kid sister communicate with this old coot of a dog trying to figure out where her affinity for animals came from. She was a regular Dr. Dolittle. The fur around Sam’s nose and mouth was completely white, his milky eyes were full of cataracts and his breath was so awful it could knock over a transport truck but Danny loved him just the same. More than Beth I think. It didn’t seem to bother her that Danny spent every waking hour with her dog and that his loyalty to my sister was undeniable. Without anything formal having been said, Beth had given Sam to Danny. Harold was lying next to Beth under the umbrella. He had his shirt off and was wearing cut-off jeans that were frayed and ragged. I couldn’t help but notice how much Harold’s chest had filled out since last summer. It looked like he had been lifting weights. I had to bite my tongue to keep from making some lame comment about his muscles just to humiliate him in front of Beth. At any other time I would have but seeing him lying there next to her looking so eager and vulnerable all at the same time I was overwhelmed, and as Ma always said when she spoke of her courtship with Joe “my heart was tender” for Harold.
I took off my tee shirt, leaving my shorts on over my bathing suit because I was feeling self-conscious about my rear end and having so much flesh exposed on a beach that was full of hunks and babes. Harold’s chest wasn’t the only thing that had grown since last summer. I waded knee-deep into the water and started walking along the shore, stooping occasionally to stuff an interesting rock or shard of smoothly polished glass into the pocket of my shorts. The water was surprisingly warm for Lake Superior. Because of its size it rarely got warm enough to swim in for too long unlike the smaller inland lakes that spread out in puddles to the north and west of the city, which were like soup by July so you could stay in the water for hours without turning blue. I made my way along the shore as the rhythmic sound of the waves slapping up against the sand filtered out all the noise coming from the beach. It was as though I was caught in a dream where everything and everyone around me was suspended in time as I walked through people, and around them, but never part of them.
By the time I made my way back to our spot, Beth and Harold were playing in the water, laughing hysterically as they splashed each other. Danny and Sam were on the blanket sharing a salami sandwich. Beth called out for me to join them but I was hungry and tired from all the walking and my feet were freezing and numb. I flopped down on the other side of Sam and pulled out a sandwich. Sam gave me a full body sniff working his way from my toes ending with my sandwich.
“Get lost,” I said, nudging him with the back of my arm, pushing him towards Dan. “Will you do something about this mutt?
I’m trying to eat.”
“He ain’t doin’ nothin’.”
“Don’t say ain’t.”
“Why not? You do all the time.”
“I’m older than you. When you’re my age you can say what you want.”
“That’s stupid. Ma says you shouldn’t say it either. It ain’t even a word.”
It was spooky because Dan was starting to sound just like me. We looked at each other; our mouths stuffed with salami sandwiches and started to howl. We were laughing so hard I thought I was going to puke. Sam started barking and running circles around us, which only made us laugh harder. “Ain’t ain’t even a word,” I gasped, falling back on the blanket, tears rolling down my cheeks I was laughing so hard. Dan fell beside me, too exhausted to move. Sam settled himself next to Dan with his head on her belly. I fell asleep, for how long I don’t know. It could have been seconds or it could have been all afternoon. Time had no meaning when you were on the beach. It was their screams that woke me up. Harold held Beth on his shoulders and then without warning he would release her so she’d fall backwards into the water and then swim up through his legs to the surface. For someone who rarely went into the water Harold was doing a pretty good job of keeping up with Beth. I still hadn’t figured the two of them out but they had something between them that I didn’t understand and maybe never would. It might have had something to do with them both being Finns but I think it was more than that.
Just up the beach from us were some kids I recognized from school. They were a year or two ahead of me and Harold and part of the in-crowd, the cool kids, the ones who always wore the right clothes, drove their own hot cars and snuck booze into the school dances. They were a tight group who made fun of guys like Harold and ignored girls like me. At least I was invisible but poor Harold was often on the receiving end of their petty jokes. He never complained though, just pretended they weren’t there as he walked the hallways at school clutching his books close to his chest or as he crossed the school grounds at the end of day with his head down—their cruel taunts stung but did not kill. I caught him once reciting under his breath the rhyme our mothers taught us when we were five. Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can never hurt you. Like a mantra, over and over he repeated that phrase as he made his way home dodging their harassing torments like bullets. Our families never knew that we lived in a war zone, not one that broke your body but one that did irreparable damage just the same. Harold spotted them about the same time I did. He gave Beth one last toss and before she had a chance to swim up between his legs, he was already out of the water. He was trembling as he grabbed his towel and flung it over his shoulders.
“It’s cool,” I said. “We’re not at school. They probably won’t even recognize you.”
“Oh please. Recognize me? I have a face no one could forget no matter where I am,” he said, as he plucked a sandwich from the basket and sat cross-legged next to me on the blanket.
“No kidding? You actually think you have a face no one could forget?”
“I do.”
“You’re serious.”Then I started to laugh out loud. “You’ve got a face no one could forget,” I said and howled even louder. Soon Harold and Dan were howling too and before you knew it we were one big giggling mass on the blanket. Beth was out of the water standing over us watching as we rolled around like escapees from the loony bin. Sam was barking again and nipping at our feet. “What’s going on you guys? Partying without me?”
“Korkala’s got a face no one could forget,” I gasped through tears and laughter.
“No one,” Harold gagged. Tears were streaming down his face, which by this time looked a lot like a tomato with eyes. “Hey, I knew that. I just didn’t think it was anything to laugh about,” she said sliding her scrawny wet body between Harold and me.
“I guess you had to be there,” I said, as this really cute but arrogant guy named Miles swaggered over to our blanket. Not knowing anything about these kids and the torment they were to Harold, Beth did her flirty thing and invited him to break bread with us. It all happened so fast—one minute we were laughing hysterically and then before we knew it Miles was sitting between Beth and I eating one of my mother’s salami sandwiches and grinning at her like the village idiot. He just sat there grinning and chewing on his sandwich, nodding his head and hanging onto her every word like this was the most important conversation he ever had in his entire life. Harold and I were dumbfounded, shocked and relieved that for once he wasn’t being picked on. I, of course was still being ignored but that was okay because Miles, dreamy gorgeous Miles, was sitting on our blanket eating sandwiches made by Ma. The thought of my mother’s very own hands actually touching the same sandwich he was eating was intoxicating.
One-by-one, the rest of Miles’ group made their way over to our blanket and before we knew it we were completely surrounded by the coolest kids at school. Beth had them all eating out of her hand and she knew it. I didn’t care how she did it I was just glad she did. I was thrilled to be in their company even if it was just for one afternoon and even though none of these kids were deep enough to be superficial. They were cool and popular and I was hungry for a taste of that.
We spent the afternoon chasing Frisbees, playing ball and swimming. Harold had two of the most popular girls, Marcia and Heather—even their names were cool—all over him like he was a chick magnet. Jay carried me on his shoulders out into the water to play warrior against Harold and Marcia while Beth and Miles took off up the beach by themselves. We spent the entire afternoon in the water with Jason, David, Scott and Terry, Marcia, Heather and Jennifer. It was like a dream—only better—more like a fairytale where everyone wins a prince or a princess and Beth was the powerful sorceress who had cast a magic spell over these kids making them like us in spite of who we were. For the afternoon at least, we were popular by association.
We had promised Ma we would be back around dinnertime but we were having so much fun we all agreed to stay until dark so we could build a bonfire and tell ghost stories. Harold and I had a two-minute conversation and agreed to throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences of our irresponsible behavior when we got home. Joe Senior and Ma would be worried, but Mrs. K. would be panicked. Harold had never done anything to upset his mother in his entire life. I had, but nothing like this.
Around midnight, after hours of telling spooky stories, lame jokes and singing corny campfire songs with our own words that grew ruder as the fire grew dimmer, it was time to leave. Heather had fallen asleep on Jay’s lap with her mouth gaping and drooling on his shorts, Marcia devoured what was left of Ma’s sandwiches and Terry all of the chocolate cake. Beth and Miles had long disappeared into the darkness; Danny and Sam were curled up asleep between Harold and me. Miles and his gang were tenting overnight in the park and invited us to stay but Harold and I were in enough hot water already. Our parents probably had every cop in the city out looking for us. All night I half expected Mrs. K. to show up and drag Harold by the ear out of the park. For the rest of them this was just another day at the beach but for Harold and me, it was unforgettable.
Beth left the hood down on Sally so we could see the stars and cling to what was left of the perfect day. I covered Danny and Sam with a blanket as they slept soundly next to me in the back seat. Harold stretched out next to Beth in the front with his arms behind his head, staring up at the sky dreamily. I tried to squeeze out thoughts of what would happen when we got home by focusing on the hum of the car’s motor. I closed my eyes and was drifting away when Beth brought me back to earth with a jolt.
“I slept with him,” she said.
“What?” Harold said, bolting upright.
“I slept with H-I-M,” she said, spelling it out like that—like we were second graders. “Miles and I had sex.”
“When?” I choked.
“Where?” Harold choked.
“Tonight. On the beach. It was almost romantic,” she said yawning. “It was no big deal. It just kinda happened.”
“So you did it. Just like that you had sex. A little stroll along the beach, drop your drawers and go at it right under our noses. How could you?” For some reason her little confession angered me. It was one thing to take a swim with someone like Miles but sleep with him—your first time no less—was unthinkable. As I raged Harold grew silent, his eyes fixed on the road, his breathing quiet and steady just like when he walked the hallways at school and Miles called out “four-eyed nerd boy.”Was he reciting our childhood mantra inside his head? Sticks and stones may break my bones. “It was nothing. It meant nothing. And we didn’t do it under your nose. No one saw us.”
“Miles is a creep. And so are all his friends.”
“Oh really. You could have fooled me the way you carried on today.”
“Today wasn’t real. It was Alice in Wonderland time. Trust me. Those kids won’t remember our names after tonight.”
“Shut up you two,” Harold shouted. “Who cares anyway? Let’s just get home.”
Not a word was spoken as the car wound its way through the darkness, the stars less bright, and the air thick with the heat of anger and betrayal. Beth turned on the radio. That’s when we heard the shocking news of Brian Jones’ death from drowning, in the backyard pool of his English country home—a misadventure is what the reporter called it. That just about summed up our day.