Barefoot Girls (30 page)

Kurt spoke for a long time. He knew everything about her, relating things only she knew. Even the Barefooters’ biggest secret was discussed, his assurances like salve on her itching fears. He told her about her divorce from Phillip, about Blake and Neil, and about how she would end up alone, but happy. He also told her that the novel she was working on, back then when she’d been convinced that writing would be her career, would be published, but fail to earn out its advance. He also told her that she should become a wedding planner, that it was the only career that would bring her satisfaction.

She had been amazed at much of what he had told her, but doubted the three-husbands prediction and utterly rejected his advice about her career. Later, as each thing came to pass, she was dumbfounded. The only part that still remained unrealized was the whole bit about being a wedding planner, which she thought ridiculous, what with all the bridezillas and the general craziness of the wedding industry. She was still searching for her career, trying things on and rejecting them, the heap of discarded ideas growing at her feet.

Was it possible that Hannah had the same gift as Kurt? Had she picked up the vibrations from Keeley somehow, subconsciously finding out the truth about Keeley’s childhood? That would explain the mother in the book. Well, except when it came to Keeley’s mother, the child hadn’t been abandoned. Instead, she’d been beaten regularly, and one night, would nearly die at her mother’s murderous hands.

The summer they were fourteen, Keeley ousted Rose as the most beautiful girl on Captain’s.  Her girlish frame had filled out over the winter, and she arrived on the island looking like a little woman with a small waist, high breasts, and rounded hips. Equally dramatic were the changes in her face, the baby-fat having melted away to reveal a to-die-for bone structure. Even Keeley’s already huge tip-tilted blue Bambi-like eyes had grown, reminding Zooey of a cartoon princess.

When they first gathered at the Barefoot House, the girls were awkward with each other. In particular, they didn’t know how to handle Keeley’s metamorphosis. Pam had been the first to develop, but along with her large chest, she’d grown beefy all over, and by regularly making fun of her own weight, she effectively blew away any anxiety surrounding her prematurely-mature appearance. Zooey had simply grown taller and skinnier every year, but otherwise, she looked the same, right down to her flat chest. Amy hadn’t changed at all; she was their little blond curly-headed doll.

But the new Keeley made them nervous. After their first hesitant greetings, they all sat on rolled up beach-towels in the intact portion of the living room of their little clubhouse, alternating between staring at Keeley and pointedly looking away at things in the room. Pam kept trying to act excited about things they’d left from the summer before, pointing at pieces of driftwood or an oar they’d found and exclaiming about the story behind it. Remember? Remember? She repeated. Everyone nodded and smiled, but didn’t take the bait. Finally, slumping, Pam gave up and picked at her toes as she sat cross-legged on her towel.

Zooey stared at Keeley. It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t Zooey “pop” like this? Where were her perky breasts and sexy hips? Why hadn’t her face changed at all?

“Hey!” Amy said, breaking the silence. “A new family is renting the Schneider’s house next door for the summer! They showed up this morning, and guess what? They have a catamaran!”

Pam popped up from her slump, eyes bright. “Cool! Do you think they’ll let us borrow it?”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t know. Probably not. Maybe?”

Keeley, who had grown quiet in response to the others obvious discomfort with her, finally spoke up. “Do they have kids?”

Zooey noticed that even Keeley’s voice was had changed, become richer somehow. God, she couldn’t stand it!

Amy shrugged and said, “Yeah, a boy.”

“Oh, good!” Pam said, “How old is he? I need to make some babysitting money this summer. Do you think they’re the type to go off-island for the night?”

“No, no, no,” Amy said to Pam. “He’s our age. You can’t babysit him.”

Zooey finally tore her eyes away from Keeley. “What? Really? What does he look like?” A boy their age! There were only older boys and younger boys on the island.

Amy made a face of disgust. “Ew! Zo! Don’t fall all in love with my neighbor, okay? It was bad enough last summer with Russ Jaworski.”

“What? I just. It wasn’t…” Zooey felt her face flushing red. But she had been madly in love with Russ. Still was. She couldn’t wait to see him this year. From afar, of course. Not like she would be so stupid as to try to talk to him or anything.

Pam rolled her eyes and smiled at Zooey. “Hey, Russ is a total babe. Zo isn’t the only one who thinks he’s cute. Every girl on this island wants him. Even the old ladies!” She laughed, reminding them of the fact that Russ was a favorite of the McIntyre sisters, two elderly women who lived in and owned the most run-down house on the island. It started when they hired him to replace their rusted cistern and build them a new outhouse. He barely charged them anything, couldn’t bring himself to considering their well-known poverty. In return for the favor, the women began baking cookies and treats for him almost every day. Even though the “treats” were inedible, make-do from what they had left in their pantry, Russ was always polite and praised their baking skills. Every time he was passing their house, they ran out onto the boardwalk, usually holding a platter of baked sweets for him and begging him to join them for coffee, twittering around him like birds. It had become an island joke that was both funny and sad.

“It’s still gross,” Amy said. “I don’t get this whole fascination with boys. I’ve got three of them at my house, and let me tell you, they stink! Well, Will isn’t so bad. But the other two are total worms.”

Pam reached over and patted Amy’s leg. “Don’t worry, you’ll like boys. You’re just a late bloomer.”

Amy elaborately stuck a finger down her throat and made a gagging sound.

Zooey’s blush, that had started to die down, rose again. Late bloomer! If Amy was a late bloomer, what was she? A never-bloomer? Amy just had her first period, but Zooey had been having hers for two years and still looked the same. What was wrong with her?

Keeley sat up straight and smiled at the other girls, looking happy for the first time since they first reunited. “I know. We should go and spy on Amy’s new neighbors. We can do a covert mission!” She rubbed her hands together and raised her eyebrows at the other girls.

“Yay, covert!” Pam pumped her fist in the air, their battle cry from last year when they had run “covert missions” all over the island, spying on people and taking notes in their Top Secret spiral notebook. 

At first they were dead-serious, looking for something criminal or mysterious, but soon it became an exercise in hilarity, catching people doing all kinds of embarrassing things. It was amazing how many of their fellow islanders talked to themselves, picked their noses and examined what they found, danced around their houses in their underwear, and practiced poses and smiles in front of a mirror when no one was looking. The girls were having so much fun they weren’t prepared when they discovered the affair going on between Mrs. Kelly and Mr. Walsh.

It was like a thunderclap on a sunny day when they peered into the Kelly’s window one Sunday afternoon and saw Mrs. Kelly and Mr. O’Brien, who had just arrived for what appeared to be a typical islander visit, come together in a passionate embrace, their mouths open wide when they kissed as if they wanted to eat each other.  Mr. Kelly had just left to go back to their home in Northport, the dust that his car had dug up in the island’s dirt and gravel parking lot probably still hanging in the air. After deliberating for weeks, the girls never decided what to do or who to tell. Zooey hoped that the affair had ended, taking away the pointing finger of guilt that had ruined their game at the end of last summer.

“Yay, covert!” Amy echoed and stood up. “Great idea, I bet they have all kinds of weird habits.”

Then they were off, heading down the boardwalk in the same pairs as always, Amy and Keeley in the lead with Pam and Zooey taking up the rear. Distracted by their mission and the hope that they might see something truly embarrassing, their early awkwardness and Keeley’s new appearance was forgotten. There was always a certain strange stiffness when they first reunited every summer, usually lasting a few minutes at most, but this time it had gone on for almost an hour.

Zooey caught herself staring covetously at Keeley’s rounded hips as they twitched in front of her and forced her gaze away. She loved Keeley. Funny, smart, kind Keeley.  Keeley couldn’t help what had happened to her, or that it wasn’t happening to Zooey. She would not let herself be jealous. She would rise above it.

As with all of their covert missions, the girls stayed on the boardwalk until they were four houses away, and then jumped off and climbed through the thick tall grasses and shrubbery that grew between and behind the houses on the southern part of the island. Finally, they were behind Amy’s neighbor’s house, a tall narrow gray-shingled house with a large back deck and a sandy clearing behind it that was usually cluttered with the Schneider’s children’s toys but was now swept clean for the renters. The girls hid in the tall grasses at the edge of the yard and spied on the house, scratching at bug bites and shushing each other, but Pam kept giggling uncontrollably.

“Shhhh!” Keeley put her finger to her lips, furrowing her brow. “Pam!”

“I can’t help it!” Pam said, her face red. Then she let out a loud squawking guffaw.

Amy balled up her fist, shook it at Pam, and whispered, “I’ll give you the worst noogie if you don’t stop.”

Pam covered her red face and her large form shook quietly.

“Better,” Amy said and turned back to peer at the house. “Damn! Nothing’s going on.”

Zooey spied some movement just inside the door that led to the porch. “Wait! There’s someone. Shhh!”

The screen door opened with a squeal and out stepped a tall boy carrying a plate with something brown on it and a can of soda. He walked over to the wooden picnic table in the center of the deck and sat down, facing the girls and the wall of tall grasses where they were hidden. He picked up what turned out to be a sandwich and bit down on it.

Zooey couldn’t believe it. It was the handsomest boy she’d ever seen. Ever. And tall! Like her! Every time she thought a boy was cute, he was too short. Well, except for Russ, but Russ was nineteen and out of her league. This boy was their age. 

He ate his sandwich quickly, inhaled it really, and then sat sipping his soda and staring out at the grasses surrounding the yard. Could he see them? Zooey hoped not. She turned her head slowly to look at the other girls. Pam had finally stopped giggling and was staring open-mouthed at the boy. Amy was grinning and looking excited, probably waiting for him to pick a booger out of his nose and eat it for dessert. Keeley was also watching the boy, but her face was flushed. If Zooey didn’t know Keeley, she would think she was embarrassed, but that wasn’t on the menu of emotions her friend entertained. Why was Keeley looking like that?

The boy put the soda can to his lips and tipped his head back to get the last drops, and as he did, the screen door to the house opened. A woman, slim and muscular with a tan that was highlighted by her blue shorts and a white polo shirt, stood in the doorway. Had to be his mother. Plain horsey-looking face, though. His looks must have come from his father.  “Michael? I need your help unloading the boat.”

He turned to look at her. “Okay, Mom. Coming.” His voice sounded nice, husky. She nodded and disappeared again into the darkness of the house, the door snapping shut after her.

He stood up, collected his plate and soda can, and walked over to the screen door. There, he balanced the can on the plate to grab the door handle and swiftly turned at the last minute to face the area of the tall grasses where the girls were hidden. He smiled, laughed a little, and gave a quick wave at them. Then he disappeared into the house.

“Oh!” Pam exclaimed.

“Damn! He saw us,” Amy said.

Keeley’s eyes were shining when she turned to look at the other girls. She grinned and said, “He did.” She didn’t look the least bit disappointed.

Zooey looked at Keeley and felt the ache begin, pulsing brightly in her throat and working down into her heart.

They met officially that night. The older kids were having a party on Kevin Lynch’s family’s dock, the longest dock on the island. Kevin, at eighteen, was the ringleader of the teenage crowd and one of the surfers on the island who crossed the channel to go to Jones Beach at dawn every morning. He was cute in a freckled boy-next-door way with long raggedy blond hair that was always in his eyes, making him toss his head a lot. Kevin was also Rose’s boyfriend. Rose had managed somehow to keep the Barefooters from being invited to any of that gang’s gatherings last summer.  Zooey wondered what Rose had said to achieve this, especially as she caught some of the older kids casting odd wondering looks at her and the other girls when they crossed paths. 

This time, though, a few of the older boys had been passing Amy’s neighbor’s house on the boardwalk and, seeing the catamaran pulled up on their beach, stopped to inspect it. Michael came out of the house then and they all fell into a conversation about the boat and what it was like to sail on a catamaran versus a single-hull sailboat. Before the boys left they invited Michael to come to the party that night at Kevin’s, and Michael shrugged and said okay.