Last Summer Boys(18)

“No one ever does!” I shout back.

“Both of you shut up and get to the pilings!” Will screams as he dives forward, army-crawling as fast as he can for the cover of those stones. Frankie and me scuttle after him, kicking up jets of river sand as we go and showing those laughing girls our backsides the whole way.

The girls on the far bank are just about falling over with laughter now. Something about their laughs sounds awfully familiar, but I don’t waste time stopping to look. It feels like a mile to the piling, and by the time I get there I ain’t got a shred of dignity left. We flatten ourselves against the mossy stones, gasping for air. Then I realize: there’s just three of us.

“We forgot Pete!”

Will cusses fiercely.

Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawl to the edge of the piling and peer around.

And there he is. Pete is still fast asleep on the bank. Flat on his back. Totally naked. He ain’t moved.

“Pete!”

He don’t hear me. He don’t hear anything. In between those awful shrieks of laughter, his gentle snores continue slow and steady.

Across the water, the girls have come out from under the trees. They stand along the bank, hugging themselves in amusement. And now I know why one of those voices sounds so familiar.

Anna May wears a blue blouse and a yellow skirt, and her golden hair is held back in a light-blue headband.

“Oh no,” I breathe.

Will tenses. “What?” he demands. “What? Who is it?”

“Nobody,” I lie.

He hauls me back from the edge and peers around it himself. He snaps back like a rubber band, a look of complete horror on his face.

Anna May calls to us. “Danger, Will Robinson! Or should I say Will Elliot? Are you just going to leave your brother out there all alone?” She is laughing herself silly, the sound skipping across the water, echoing off the stones. Will balls up a fist and bites down hard on one knuckle. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening,” he says to himself. “This is a dream. I’m still asleep.”

Across the creek her voice twinkles again. “Ooh, and you left your clothes!”

“You’re not dreaming, Will,” Frankie says bitterly. “And she’s right.”

Our clothes are on the log where we left them. Thirty feet away.

“You can’t just walk around without any clothes,” Anna May chides, her sweet voice becoming suddenly serious. “It’s not decent.”

She places her hands behind her tiny waist and leans ever so slightly out over the water as she says it. That warm breeze blows again, and it ripples her skirt. She’s lovely. And horrible.

The girls behind her break into fresh peals of laughter. Will sinks to his knees. His face is a sickly grayish green.

“I’m going to throw up.”

My mind is whirring, trying to understand it. There’s a walking trail on the far side of the creek. That must be it. They must have been out walking and come up on us while we were sleeping.

“Mind that edge if I was you, Anna May.”

I stop.

Will freezes.

Anna May goes as still as a statue.

Pete ain’t moved from his spot on the bank. He lies the same as before, hands behind his head, eyes shut. But now we all know without a doubt that he ain’t sleeping. Pete’s awake. And he’s been awake.

“It’s hard to see from where you’re standing, but your bank is crumbling,” Pete goes on, still lying there. “If it were to collapse, why, you’d fall into the creek. And then I’d have no choice but to swim over there and rescue you.”

Anna May leaps back from that bank like she’s been stung by a wasp.

Pete sits up, slow and easy like. He waves. Then, taking all the time in the world, he stands up straight and tall. Turning toward the girls, he spreads his arms wide.

The girls stare.

Frankie and me stare. Will is weeping.

“Hey, you girls care for a swim?” Pete asks, grinning. “You’re more than welcome. Except the thing is, this is a private beach. And we have only one rule: no clothes allowed.”

And there he stands, my brother Pete, naked as the day he was born, holding forth with Anna May Fenton and her friends like he’s inviting them to sit down to tea.

Anna May’s mouth opens and closes, but she don’t make any sound. Then she says in a soft voice, “No, thank you, Pete. We were only . . . taking in the sights.”

Pete’s smile widens. “That you were.” Behind Anna May, her two friends are speechless. They are all staring at my brother.

Anna May frowns and sticks out her chin. “We’re sorry to have interrupted your nap. But we will be continuing on our walk now, thank you very much.”

Pete gives a slight bow. “You are quite welcome, ladies. But consider this our standing invitation to come back anytime.”

Anna May nods her head once, then takes two steps backward until she’s joined the other girls. She nods again, and then, ever so slowly, she turns and leads them back to the trail on the far side of the creek.

It’s a long time before the girls disappear completely into the trees. They take their time going, and I wonder if they ain’t doing it on purpose.

Pete watches them go. Then, once he’s sure they’ve left, he strolls over to the log and gathers up our clothes. Walking them over to us, he tosses them in a heap. “All right, you chickens, it’s safe now.”