Serpentine (9 page)

The conversation went on like this for another twenty minutes, the two of them passing innocent and generic questions back and forth. They did nothing more than walk slow circles around the dilapidated little shack. On a few occasions, Joe looked out to the small boats along the shore and wished he had have taken her up on her offer.

Somehow, five o’ clock snuck up on them. Joe had set an alarm on his phone and when it buzzed in his pocket, he jumped a bit. He and Valerie were sitting on a relatively clear spot on the ground several yards away from where the muddy water started to lap at the ground. The old boats bobbed there lazily, as if trying to lure them in.

As Joe fished his phone out of his pocket, Valerie giggled. “Is that an alarm clock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she said.

“That’s some weak humor,” Joe replied, killing the alarm.

“Maybe,” she said. “But you’re turning red…”

He looked to the ground, ashamed and somehow aroused at the fact that she had caught him blushing at her harmless innuendo.

“It’s been fun,” Joe said. “But I’d like to see you again and if I don’t get home when I’m supposed to, I may be killed.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Valerie said as they got to their feet and started back through the woods and towards Kerr Lane. “As for seeing me again…well, that might be tough. Dad and I are heading back home tomorrow. He has some rush job he has to do.”

“When will you be back?” Joe asked, his heart suddenly sinking in his chest.

“Probably tomorrow night. But you know, we can meet here then. Like after hours, late at night. You ever chased fireflies before?”

“No.”

“No surprise there, city boy,” she said with a smile. “Can you sneak out and meet me here?”

“Yes,” he said without bothering to think through it.

Joe knew that doing so would be risky. He hadn’t really looked the place over for appropriate spots to get in and out without his parents finding out.

Of course, he hadn’t been expecting to meet Valerie, either.

“What time?” he asked.

“Midnight. Seems fitting.”

“Sure,” Joe said, having no idea how he’d manage it.

They came to the edge of the forest where Joe’s bike lay on the ground. He picked it up and watched Valerie go on ahead of him. She turned back to him to make sure he was coming and when she turned her back to him again, Joe allowed himself a sigh and a dumbfounded roll of the eyes.

What the hell is going on?
he wondered.

He had no idea. A crush for sure, and certainly not love. But whatever this was, it was fast and somewhere in between those two categories. It made his stomach feel uneasy but was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

He’d kissed one girl before…on a dare at a lame party. It had been nice. It had been warm, quick, and flat. But still, it had been a kiss. Now, trying to imagine what it would be like to kiss Valerie, the whole idea of that dared kiss was laughable. The mere thought of kissing Valerie had him leaping on his bike with energy that was almost frantic.

They made the short walk to her driveway without another word. He stopped short of the driveway so her father wouldn’t see him with her if he happened to be out in the yard or on the porch. Apparently, single dads were very protective of their daughters. Joe certainly didn’t want Valerie getting in trouble just because he was already busy setting a dreamlike sequence of events into motion that he hoped might happen tomorrow night.

Valerie gave him a slight wave and then started towards the cabin. “See you tomorrow night.”

He returned the wave and said, “Yeah. Tomorrow night.”

With that, he sped towards his cabin, suddenly happier than ever that his father had forced his family take this trip. Now if he could just hide his uncharacteristic giddiness from the rest of them, this might just be the best summer ever.

THIRTEEN

It was without a doubt the longest day in the history of Joe Evans’s life.

He’d done everything he could to stay busy, hoping to make the day fly by, but nothing seemed to work. He swam with Mac, tinkered with one of his dad’s spare keyboards and even did some fishing off of the dock with his dad. The attempt at fishing had been laughably terrible, as neither of them knew what they were doing, but he’d actually had a lot of fun. He’d stuck his finger three times in trying to properly bait a hook and wore the little scar with pride. They’d caught two fish, both very small and of a variety that Google taught them was called a crappie.

As the evening rolled on, he rode his bike up and down Kerr Lane and the adjoining Tucker Lane for what seemed like hours. He started to understand why Valerie enjoyed watching the tourists. They were extremely varied in the way they did just about everything. In one yard, Joe saw a mother hovering over her child in the yard, making sure the kid didn’t wander too far. Yet, in another yard, two young kids—neither older than seven, for sure—roamed freely while their parents sat on the porch. Some yards were quite neat while others were littered with water toys, coolers, and fishing paraphernalia. Some waved at him while he passed while others gave a distrusting look.

After a while, seeing all of the vacationing families and locals along the lanes made him feel a little less special. It made him aware that he wasn’t as isolated out here as he thought. It also made him feel as if the secret rendezvous with Valerie wasn’t as private as he’d like it to be. Having had his fill of people-watching, he headed back to the Evans cabin, ready for dinner and wishing night would hurry up and get here already.

By the time dinner was set on the table—grilled burgers, green beans, and his mom’s awesome homemade mac and cheese—Joe felt like he was going to burst with anticipation. There was some family time on the back porch that included a sing-along to his dad playing the acoustic guitar he used to sketch out the melodies to songs from time to time. Through it all, Joe found it hard to believe that he’d been such a spoiled little brat on the drive to the lake. It had been a
long
drive, sure…but he’d never even given it a chance.

He found it odd to think that kids from the city thought that other kids from the boondocks needed to get out and experience more of life. It was as if living in a city like New York made them feel like they were better or more educated. But coming out here to the middle of nowhere had shown Joe what a relationship with his parents
could
look like in just eight short days.

It had also showed him that being an annoying brat to everyone just because he wasn’t always getting his way did nothing more than make him seem like an asshole.

Sure, thoughts of Valerie had lifted his spirits and there was very little that would detour his good mood, but there was something more to it. Joe wondered if there was something ingrained in every teenager that felt it was their responsibility to be a punk to their parents. As he sat in the gathering gloom of dusk and sang a medley of 80s songs with his family, he tried to pinpoint what his parents and Mac had ever done to piss him off so badly.

The answer was
nothing.

Yet under it all was the unnamed reason his parents were fighting. He’d noticed that in the eight days they’d spent at the lake so far, his folks seemed to be gelling much better. Even as they sang on the back porch and looked out onto the lake, he saw his mother with her hand on his dad’s shoulder. They were laughing together, having fun—something they had done very little of in New York.

But still, Joe kept fixating on what might be wrong. Over half of his friends had parents that were divorced. And he had definitely heard his own parents mention the word on one of the nights he had snooped on their conversation. He had not heard how they had actually
used
the word, but he had assumed the worst and let it rule his mood. Then of course, his father had all but confirmed it on their first day here, sneaking in a man-to-man talk with him as they’d stood by the picture window in the kitchen, looking out to the lake.

Maybe it’s none of my business,
he thought later in the day. Night had finally fallen over the lake, pushing midnight closer to Kerr Lane. Mac was giving him a kiss goodnight before climbing into bed and he was finding a whole new level of appreciation for his family as he wrestled with it all.
Mom and Dad would fill us in if something bad was going on, right? They’re not the type to hide stuff.

He sat in the darkness of the bedroom, looking at the digital clock and occupying himself with these thoughts, willing the time to pass. In the bed on the other side of the room, Mac had fallen asleep, her back to him and her breathing steady. Joe had his iPod playing the not-so-soothing tunes of Devilsgut in his ears as he watched the time trickle by.

10:35…10:42…11:07.

During the course of the day, he had managed to nonchalantly make a few laps around the house in search of his best escape route for the night. As it turned out, it had been easier than he had hoped: the best way to sneak out was from his very own room. Beneath the room’s single window was a decorative wooden bench, bordered by two potted plants that sat along the back of the house. He’d have to sustain a bit of a drop and the bench looked like it might break with a strong win. Still, if he could land it right, it would be smooth sailing.

The trick of course, was to not wake up Mac. He’d played the scene out several times in his head. He could open the window and climb out without much of a problem. He’d checked the screens that sat outside of the glass and found they were simple to pop out. Getting them back in might cause a bit of a problem, but he’d worry about that when the time came.

When the clock read 11:45, he sat up and looked over to Mac’s bed. She still had her back to him and was curled up like she usually was when she slept. He had no doubt that the stuffed bear she called Mr. Scraps would be tucked under her arm.

He quietly made his way across the room and slid the window up. It creaked a bit and made a faint whooshing noise in the frame. He then pulled the small plastic catches at the bottom corners of the screen and gently pushed outward. The clicking sound they made was a little loud but Mac didn’t stir at all.

The screen came free easier than he expected. He lost his grip and the screen dropped from the frame and clattered to the ground outside.

He looked back to Mac and saw that she still hadn’t budged. With a smile, Joe climbed into the window, carefully turned himself so that he was facing back into the room, and scaled down the side of the house. When his feet were dangling in the air roughly two feet away from the bench, he let go of the window frame before he could allow himself to chicken out. He landed on the bench perfectly, grimacing at the way it creaked under his one hundred and thirty-five pounds. He quickly hopped down onto the ground before the bench had a chance to break.

He picked up the screen and, with some effort, managed to balance himself along the bench and place it mostly back within the window frame. He made sure to leave the bottom corners free so he could pop it back out when he returned.

He opted to leave his bike, feeling that it would be easier to remain stealthy on foot. He ran down the driveway towards Kerr Lane and then headed right. He gave one hard look back towards his own cabin, deathly afraid that he’d see the light on in his parents’ room. But there was nothing; the entire cabin was dark.

Joe reached Kerr Lane and kept straight, towards Valerie’s cabin and the shed they had hung out around yesterday. He was a few steps into his speedy walk when he realized that he was all alone in the woods at night. He didn’t know what sorts of animals lived out here and the thought suddenly had him scared. Were there bears? Cougars? He didn’t think so, but he had no way of being certain.

He heard an owl hooting somewhere nearby and what seemed to be an infinite chorus of crickets and tree frogs. Hearing this and knowing that Valerie was waiting for him just up ahead dashed any fears he had of being mauled by some rural woodland creature or horror-movie maniac. He headed on with confidence in his step, suddenly finding the cooled night air and the vast darkness all around him exhilarating. The stars dotted the sky like stray salt on a dark tablecloth and the tree branches reached up, some blending with the night sky and others obscuring it. He took it all in, knowing that New York had much to offer, but nothing like this.

He noticed the flickering orange light of a few fireflies moments later. He’d never seen them before and couldn’t help but smile. The way they floated and glowed in a weird orange-tinted light was almost comical, like something out of a cartoon. They glowed up ahead of him as if they were beckoning him on into the woods…which, he guessed, was more creepy than beautiful.

He didn’t realize that he was passing Valerie’s cabin until he was standing directly beside the driveway. He looked towards the cabin and saw that it was just as dark as the one he had left behind. He sped up and took his phone out of his pocket. It read 12:01.

He broke into a lazy sprint and started to look along the right edge of the road for the entrance to the thin footpath Valerie had led him down yesterday. After a few moments, he slowed a bit, fearing that he would miss it. When he sensed that he might have already gone too far, he stopped completely and peered out to the edge of the woods, sure that he had passed it.

He turned to walk back the way he had come, hoping he’d be able to see the trail if he used his phone as a makeshift nightlight. He took two steps in that direction, reaching for his phone, and then stopped cold in his tracks.

Something moved behind him. And as soon as he realized this, there was a hand around his mouth.

He tried to cry out, but the hand was tight against his lips.

“Don’t move,” a voice said from behind him. “You’re dead.”

His heart had started to gallop madly before he realized that the voice belonged to Valerie.

It started beating even faster when he realized that she was still holding him—one hand at his mouth, the other at his back—and speaking directly into his ear. He felt her breath on his neck and he was suddenly aware of an urgent stirring below his waist.

He chuckled nervously and she released his mouth. He turned to her, unsure of whether he should be glad to see her or pissed that she had almost made him scream.

“Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t help it.”

Although she was now two feet away from him, he could still feel her breath on his neck and along the lobe of his ear. His nerves seemed to soak it all up.

“It’s okay,” he said. “How long were you waiting to jump out at me like that?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“Not cool,” he said.

But it had been very cool. He could still feel her hand on his back and over his mouth. He licked his lips, thinking he might be able to taste her hand still there.

“Ready to catch some fireflies?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Then come on,” she said. She reached out and grabbed his arm, leading him further down the lane.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Honestly, he didn’t care. With her hand gently around his upper arm, he’d go wherever she took him.

“Just a bit further down this way,” she answered. “There’s a small field where they swarm. It’s hard to catch them in the trees like this.”

He didn’t question her. He just let her lead him down the road and was suddenly very grateful that it was night. Anything remotely resembling fear was gone now, replaced with the idea that something about this was incredibly romantic. And while he’d usually cringe at the mention of anything being romantic, it was suddenly very exciting to him.

They passed another few darkened cabins and then Valerie led them down a road to the right. At first it looked like every other driveway on the lane but it quickly widened out into a larger expanse of dirt. This dirt was overtaken by weeds right away, as high as his chest his some areas. Throughout the small field, there were a few broken down old speed boats that looked to have been salvaged for their parts. The lake came into view behind all of this, sparkling in the moonlight almost as if it had snuck up on the land.

As Valerie had promised, the field was alive with fireflies. There were easily a hundred of them drifting in the darkness, flickering their orange light like little spaceships that floated through the weeds.

“Okay,” Joe said, clearly impressed. “This is pretty cool.”

“Isn’t it?” Valerie said, smiling.

Joe walked slowly into the field and held his right hand out. He cupped it and brought it slowly up under two fireflies. When they were on his hand, he cupped his left hand over them and peered inside through the space between his thumb and forefinger. The flies didn’t seem panicked at all; they simply lit up the darkness inside his closed hands with their otherworldly glow. He let out a tiny giggle at the way their legs and wings tickled the insides of his hands.

He looked to see if Valerie was also catching them, but she was walking further into the weeds alongside one of the gutted speedboats. He followed after her with the two fireflies still in his hand. Up ahead, he saw where the field dipped a bit, making way for a cracked concrete slab. The slab dropped into the lake at a slight angle. Joe guessed this was an old loading ramp of some kind. If Joe had to guess, the concrete ramp was probably as old as the broken down speedboats that occupied the field.