A Million Miles from Boston Read online

  Finally Ian went into their shed, got a rake and cleaned up leaves and dead grass.

  Superior and I walked over. “What are you doing?”

  He kept raking. “In exchange for using the kayak, I’m doing stuff.”

  I grabbed a rake. It didn’t take long to dump everything in the woods. As we put the rakes back in the shed, Ian said, “You helped, so now you gotta go out in the kayak with me tomorrow.”

  I hesitated. “Okay.”

  “You’ll like it.” He grinned and walked away.

  I reached for Superior. What had I done?

  he next day Ian and I stood on the Steeles’ dock, wearing life jackets. We flipped the kayak and set it on the water. Ian lowered himself onto it and squinted up at me as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

  “We’ll be able to go faster with two people,” he said. “It’s not that hard. You just have to balance.”

  “I’ll watch.” I took off my life jacket and dropped it but in my head I screamed at myself, Go!

  “You are afraid of the water. I knew it!” He laughed and threw back his head, then pushed away from the dock and paddled toward the marina.

  He’ll have to figure out how to get the kayak onto the dock by himself! I thought. I stomped up the stairs, Superior close behind.

  “Hello!” Mrs. Steele called from her porch. “I thought you’d be out with Ian.”

  “No. Need anything done around the yard?”

  “Between you and Ian we’ll have the cleanest yard on the Point. No, we’re fine today. Thanks for asking. Come in!”

  I walked in and sat facing the yard. We talked about how quickly the wild blueberries were ripening and how Superior’s white hair made her look “distinguished.” The whole time I was bouncing my knee, irritated.

  Then the PT drove up to our cottage. The night before, she’d left here at midnight to go to her friend’s house in Portland. Dad walked out and hugged her.

  “What do you think of Julia?” Mrs. Steele asked. I glanced at my watch. Ian had left a half hour earlier. Did he stop at the marina?

  “She’s okay.” They stared at me, waiting. “She’s tall.”

  “She has a lot of teeth.” Mr. Steele smiled at me.

  “Walter!” Mrs. Steele said. We laughed.

  Mrs. Steele brought out a plate of blueberry scones and I ate two, slipping half of the second to Superior. Then I thanked them and left. At the edge of the yard, I looked down. Ian, just a speck in the water, paddled toward me.

  Superior and I took the path to the Big House. A Dumpster sat off to the side, empty. I ran back to the cottage. Dad and the PT were on the porch.

  “There’s a Dumpster at the Big House,” I said through the screen.

  “Really?” Dad asked.

  “Does this mean they’re going to tear it down?” I asked.

  “That’s a pretty big leap. Everyone would have to agree. I’ll talk to Joel tonight.”

  We were going to the Ramseys’ for a cookout. I walked past Bucky and Henry, who were playing with army men in the yard, and looked down at the Steeles’ dock. The kayak was in the water, tied to a post. That wasn’t very responsible of Ian.

  “I need your help,” I said to Bucky and Henry. Down on the dock we lifted the kayak and flipped it, then slid the paddles and life jackets underneath.

  I knew from my magazine that sit-on-top kayaks were pretty safe. If you tipped, you couldn’t get trapped inside, as in a regular kayak, so you didn’t have to practice rolls or sliding out of the kayak underwater.

  I pulled the tarp over the kayak.

  Later I sat at the edge of the Ramseys’ lawn, near the stairs that led to their dock. It was nearly dusk and the water below was still and gray. Jake Ramsey and two of his friends did cannonballs off the dock. Earlier Dad had asked me to watch Bucky after dinner so the adults could talk. Bucky and Henry walked on the rocks under the dock.

  I glanced at the adults. Mr. Ramsey had said that he didn’t know why the Dumpster was at the Big House and that nothing had been decided. Then he and Dad started talking about the Red Sox.

  The PT walked toward me. I pulled Superior close.

  “I haven’t really talked to you since Pear Island.” She sat, her back to the water. “You and Ian had fun?”

  I nodded. I wanted to talk about him but I didn’t know what to say. I watched Bucky and Henry climb onto the Ramseys’ dock.

  The PT took her palm back and forth over the top of the grass. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her white skin was red with sunburn. Maybe she’d realize that the sun wasn’t good for her. Maybe she wouldn’t want to spend summers up here.

  Superior sniffed her sandal.

  “Has she always been your dog?” the PT asked. I nodded. “That’s nice, huh?”

  Was she going to start asking a million questions again?

  “How is camp?”

  “Fine.” My voice was sharp. She sat back. Superior pricked her ears, then trotted over to a flower bed.

  The PT leaned in. “Listen, Lucy, I want you to know—”

  “Superior!” I ran to her. She’d started digging, dirt and flowers flying. When I pulled on her collar, she sat, her nose caked with dirt. I picked up a flower, its stem broken. “Oh, no.”

  The PT walked over. “We might be able to save a few of these. I’ll go find a trowel and be right back.” She walked up to the Ramseys’ cottage.

  I stood there, staring at the flowers. What did the PT want to tell me? I turned and ran for our cottage.

  I gave Superior water and brushed her. Then I sat at my puzzle.

  But after fifteen minutes I started feeling guilty about the flower bed and leaving the PT and not thanking the Ramseys for dinner, so I walked back. The PT was on the porch with the others. The flower bed had been raked, only a few flowers replanted.

  I walked to the top of the Ramseys’ stairs and looked down. Henry stood at the end of the dock, watching the older boys swim to the buoy. Where was Bucky?

  Then I saw him in the water, halfway to the buoy. I ran down the stairs.

  “Bucky, come back!” I screamed. The older boys were nearly at the buoy, way out in the bay. Bucky kept stopping and treading water before swimming again. His strokes were quick and jerky. He was tiring. It was too far for him.

  I kicked off my flip-flops and dove into the water. The cold slapped me in the face, then shot down my body. Seaweed skimmed my hands and legs, but I just kept putting one arm over the other. Bucky waited, head bobbing against the open water.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I thought I could do it.” He cried, gulping breaths.

  I treaded water. “Just go on your side. I’ll swim back next to you.”

  We faced each other, swimming sidestroke. Superior barked at us from the dock. Bucky whimpered, “It’s too far. I’m too tired.” But I kept telling him, “Breathe. Swim.”

  Dad, the PT and the Ramseys were waiting on the dock. I climbed out, followed by Bucky. Dad handed me a towel, then wrapped another around Bucky, who shivered, staring at his feet. Goose bumps broke out all over my body.

  “You know you’re not supposed to swim out there on your own, ever,” Dad said.

  “But I thought I could make it.” Bucky dropped his eyes and sniffled with tears.

  “Jake should’ve known Bucky was coming after him,” Mrs. Ramsey said.

  “This isn’t Jake’s fault.” Dad turned to me. “Where were you? I asked you to watch him.”

  I frowned. This was Bucky’s fault. “I just went back to the cottage for a minute.”

  “And that’s what you call watching him?”

  “Well, Bucky never listens to me, anyway!”

  “I don’t?” Bucky said.

  I glared at him. Then my shoulders sank, because Dad was right. I had been responsible for Bucky. I shivered—the night air was cool—and licked the salt off my lips.

  Dad sighed. “Okay, Lucy, you and Buck head back. We’ll be along soon.”


  “Thanks for dinner,” I said to Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. “Sorry about the flowers.”

  “No harm done,” Mrs. Ramsey said. I started for the cottage, Bucky trailing me.

  “Will you turn on the shower?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I walked around the cottage to the outdoor shower.

  Bucky jumped into the hot stream of water. “Thanks. And I do listen to you!”

  “Whatever.”

  Inside, I took a shower while Superior waited on the bathroom rug. She knew something was wrong—she kept bumping into me—and finally I bent over and hugged her. “It’s okay, Superior. It’s not your fault.”

  I didn’t look at Bucky as we passed each other in the hallway.

  Dad waited at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sorry I was so angry, Goose. You always watch Bucky. I know you take a lot of responsibility for him.”

  I nodded.

  “I got scared,” he said. “Buck’s an okay swimmer, but it was a long way out there. Listen, if you watch him and want to do something else, tell me. And you were brave to go after him. I know you don’t like the water.”

  I felt myself soften. “Okay. And I’m sorry I left.”

  Dad nodded, then climbed the stairs. I walked onto the porch. The PT was reading on the couch and didn’t look up when I sat at my puzzle. I picked up a blue ocean piece. Or was it the sky? I turned it over in my hand.

  The ocean was cold. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d swum that far. But I was fine. I glanced at the PT. If she hadn’t been here, then Dad wouldn’t have asked me to watch Bucky and I wouldn’t have left the Ramseys’. It was her fault.

  June bugs bounced off the screens. A cool breeze blew onto the porch and I heard the faint clanging of the buoys in the bay. Then I saw a fit in my puzzle. How easy! Why hadn’t I seen that before?

  “Yes!” I glanced at the PT again, daring her to look at me. Then I’d jerk my head away from her. She licked her finger and turned a page in her book, her head down.

  My stomach sank. People were responsible for each other, and that night I’d been responsible for Bucky. I could blame her all I wanted, but it wasn’t her fault.

  If I met her somewhere, like at a grocery store, and she had nothing to do with Dad, then I’d probably like her. I should apologize for running away and leaving her with the flowers, but then she might think it was okay to be here. Still, I should say something.

  “Did you know that the Nile River is 4,132 miles long?” I remembered how amazed Lauren and I had been when Allison had rattled off those facts about raccoons.

  She raised her eyebrows but didn’t smile. “Yes, it’s the longest river in the world.” Then she went back to her book. Okay, she was mad at me.

  “Thanks for the rubbing alcohol,” I said. My ears had started to feel better.

  Finally she glanced at me, her eyes soft, big mouth turned down. Maybe she wasn’t angry, but disappointed. Hot prickles started up my neck.

  Dad came to the doorway, smiling at her—a different smile than he gave me. Excited. So, so happy. The prickles crept up to my cheeks and now I knew what they were. Guilt. Because I was mean to her or because of something else?

  I jumped up. I couldn’t stand these feelings anymore.

  “nemy ahead, six o’clock!” Bucky, in his camouflage pajamas, ran into the yard. Henry followed, wearing an old army jacket that hung to his knees. They used sticks as guns and pinecones as grenades.

  I watched from the porch, then pulled money out of my pocket. Another week of camp ended that day. I was two hundred dollars away from my goal. I’d make it as long as I didn’t spend a cent.

  When Dad came to the doorway, I swept my money into my lap. A twenty-dollar bill fell onto Superior, who was stretched out across my feet. She sniffed it, then laid her head back down.

  “I don’t know about you”—Dad pointed to the boys, then sat next to me—“but I feel a whole lot better knowing the cottage is fully protected.”

  I smiled and shoved the bills back into my pocket. I felt lucky to have a dad who was president of our family and who hadn’t packed up Mom’s things and shipped them off to Michigan after she died. He picked up a puzzle piece.

  “Not this again.” I took the piece from him and we laughed.

  “I’d hoped we could camp on Upper Egg this weekend, but the weather might not cooperate again.” His voice was so serious that I squeezed my puzzle piece. “And Julia has to work this weekend, so she won’t be up.”

  I stared down, trying to hide a smile.

  “Can we please talk about her?”

  “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “You know, she was married once. She lost her husband.”

  I stood. Why did he want to talk about things all the time now?

  “Will someone help me?” Bucky called. “I can’t reach my gun.”

  I ran out the door and pulled Bucky’s stick from high in the hedges.

  When I heard something behind me, I turned to see Ian pushing a wheelbarrow full of compost in the Steeles’ backyard. I walked over.

  “I’m spreading this stuff in the garden, then taking out the kayak.” He tipped the wheelbarrow. “Man, how can something that smells so bad be so good?”

  He held his nose and shuddered, his arms flopping. I laughed, then picked up the rake and started spreading the compost. Ian pulled out weeds. We finished in a half hour and Mrs. Steele handed us each a blueberry muffin.

  “Wow!” Ian smiled. “Your garden is the nicest one I’ve ever seen.”

  Suck-up!

  “Thank you, Ian. And thanks, you two, for your hard work.”

  “Sure.” Ian bit into his muffin. “Good!”

  I glanced at Mrs. Steele. So far only the PT didn’t seem snowed by Ian.

  “You’re both welcome to the kayak,” she said. “Go on. Enjoy.”

  Superior and I followed Ian to the dock. He handed me a life jacket and I zipped it to my chin. The water was calm but I saw how it stirred underneath the surface. Her nose over the edge of the dock, Superior paced, smelling, watching.

  “Are you coming?” Ian said as we lowered the kayak.

  “What about Superior?”

  “She can come with us.” He sighed. “You’re afraid of drowning, aren’t you?”

  I looked at the water, then nodded.

  “You know, only, like, nine people drown in the U.S. every day,” he said.

  That made 63 per week and 252 per month. “How’d you know that?”

  “I found it on a Web site during our science project.” He smiled and I smiled back. We climbed onto the kayak and pushed off. Superior started barking at us.

  “We’re not going far,” I yelled to her. The kayak wobbled and our paddles collided in the air until we coordinated our strokes. Then we glided.

  My heart pounded and everything came at me at once. The cold water, the warm salt air, the bold blue sky. I looked straight ahead at Bucket Island, with its evergreens and birch trees. I reached over and skimmed my hand on top of the water.

  But Superior wouldn’t stop barking, so we turned back. We watched her pace, her neck stretched so far that it looked as if it could snap.

  “We’re coming!” When we were only thirty feet away, she jumped, crashing into the water, and swam toward us, her black and white snout just above the surface.

  Everything happened fast. Superior tried to climb onto the kayak, her nails scraping and sliding. I panicked and leaned toward her, and we tipped. I went headfirst into the water, the shocking cold freezing my face, my breath. But I bobbed to the surface. Ian was in the water, too. The kayak floated upside down beside us.

  “Let’s get Superior to the dock,” he said. We swam on either side of her. It had been a long time since she’d swum this far.

  “Come on, you can do it,” I said.

  In a few minutes we reached the dock. I tried coaxing Superior up the ladder but she wouldn’t go. Ian climbed up; then I did and she followed. On the dock she shook
and water flew everywhere. She sat and looked at me, panting heavily. I kissed her wet nose.

  Ian jumped back in after the kayak and paddles. Superior and I climbed onto the rocks and sand. I waded into the water and helped him flip the kayak and lift it out.

  “That was wild!” Ian collapsed onto the dock, laughing. “You go much faster with two people paddling! Next time we’ll take it around the Point.”

  I wrung out the bottom of my shirt and pulled my wet shorts away from me. I curtsied and Ian cracked up.

  Twice in one week I’d gone into the water and nothing bad had happened. If I hadn’t reached for Superior, we wouldn’t have tipped. Maybe we could go around the Point. I’d done it!

  “We went flying into the water!” Ian kept laughing. “That was so much fun.”

  I grinned. Then we sat in the sun, quiet. Ian lay on his back, his arms and legs spread, his eyes closed. The year before, Annie had put him on her list of the top five cutest boys in our class. Kendra Willet said she held hands with him at the movies.

  But I knew that at any moment, he could do something jerky. Maybe break something. People didn’t just change all of a sudden.

  I looked at his freckles and long fingers and the way his chin pushed out. He was kind of cute, I guessed, as long as he was just lying there. I could tell I was blushing. I stretched out next to him and let the sun dry me.

  After a while Dad called to us, and Ian followed me onto our porch. We told Dad about the kayak.

  “Then Superior jumped into the water and tried to get up and we tipped over.” Ian laughed. “It was so cool!”

  “Your first wet exit.” Dad grinned. “Did you like kayaking?”

  “Yes. Except I was worried about Superior.”

  “Take her with you next time,” Dad said. I nodded.

  “You should see Superior swim,” Ian said. “She’s so strong. And she follows Lucy everywhere. I wish I had a dog like her.”

  “We’re lucky,” Dad said.

  Ian smiled, then looked around the porch. Our cottage was different from his house. What did he think about the water stains on the ceiling? The mildew smell?

  What did he think about me?

  “Well, I should go,” he said. “See you!”