The Lost Summer (16 page)

I
t hadn't been easy, halfway through camp, to get reassigned from the swim dock to the boat dock. Nan, in charge of scheduling as the oldest counselor, had raised a quizzical eyebrow, wondering why I wanted to give up my coveted spot on the lifeguard stand. Besides, I'd never been all that good at sailing as a camper.

It was a stretch, I knew, but I told Nan that Pookie, Caroline, and Lizbeth looked like they needed the help, and Winn and Sarah didn't mind. In fact, I'd mentioned to both of them the day before that I thought they had everything under control at the swim dock. If not, I was sure someone else would be happy to take my place. Winn had looked at me for a second longer than was natural. Her lips parted, as if she might say something, might finally own up to what had happened between us over the past week. But then she reconsidered and nodded in agreement, turning to climb up the lifeguard ladder.

Nan erased my name from the swimming block on the large whiteboard where she worked out the day's activity schedule and Sharpied me in under “boating.” “I'll pull Lila from crafts,” she said to herself.

I thanked her with a sigh of relief, wondering if she knew my real reason for wanting to switch. It didn't matter.

Hopefully, the boat dock would offer some relief from the drama. In addition (and, admittedly, not the last thing I'd considered when requesting the reassignment), it meant I'd get to see Ransome during the day. He and Buzz often brought the motorboats over from Brownstone. Just those few seconds—his smile, an inside joke, a secret wink—would keep me going until I could see him next.

I still hadn't told anyone what had happened in the hayloft, not even Katie Bell. I wasn't ready to say it out loud. Still, all I could think about lately was how Ransome and I could be together after camp ended. It consumed my thoughts through rest hour, meals, while Winn and Sarah were ignoring me on the dock.

I'd never been in love before. Maybe this was it, I thought. This crazy need just to be near him that didn't fade even when I was with him—it certainly felt like love. It sounded like love.

But there was still that teeny, tiny, dust particle–size part of me that wondered if I just
wanted
it to be love. I couldn't imagine not dating—real-world dating, not camp dating—the guy I'd lost my virginity to. When that possibility came barging into my daydreamy thoughts, I shoved it away. Because what would that mean about me? That wasn't the Helena who'd come to camp, and I didn't want it to be the Helena who left.

I didn't want to think about it, but the truth was— once the kids were gone, and the cabins were locked, and it was time to return to real life, where Ransome was in college in Knoxville and I was in Nashville—I didn't know what would happen. So I ignored the end of camp and looked at the boat dock as an opportunity, where maybe just glances between us could bring Ran-some and me closer, could build a real relationship. One that lasted beyond the daydreams of camp.

When I reported to the waterfront a few minutes late because I'd had to mop up a milk spill at my table after breakfast, Lizbeth was already standing at the end of one of the long docks that jutted out into the lake. Her hands were on her thin hips. Although I couldn't see her eyes under her green Southpoint visor, I got the impression she was counting the dozen or so Sunfish, Lasers, and Flying Scotts bobbing in the water. I wasn't sure if she had seen me, but surely she'd heard my footsteps on the wooden planks. She didn't turn.

“Hey,” I said.

Lizbeth finished counting before she looked up. “Hey,” she answered.

I wondered what Winn had told her, and wished Pookie had been the one to meet me on the dock.

“What can I do to help?” The water lapped peacefully against the sides of the boats.

“Well . . .” Lizbeth sighed, as the door of the boathouse creaked behind me and Pookie and Caroline walked up to deliver two armloads of orange life preservers. They dumped them in a pile on the dock between us.

“Hey, Hel.” Pookie smiled. At least she was happy to see me.

“We have the Catfish and Carps for first and second activities,” Lizbeth continued. “If you stay on the dock as the safety counselor, the three of us can go out with the girls who want instruction. Third period, the Minnows have tubing. The guys will come to pick them up.”

“Maybe you could get their ski vests on while we tie up the sailboats?” offered Caroline. “It's kind of hectic when we have tubing or skiing right after sailing.”

Tubing was always a favorite activity. Kind of funny, as all it really involved was holding on for dear life to an inflatable rubber disk dragged at breakneck speed behind a motorboat. Wiping out, which often included a face full of water and an atomic wedgie, was part of the fun.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said.

With the other counselors out on the water, things were quiet on the dock. Lookouts never had much to do but think. I let my mind drift listlessly.

Of course my first thought was whether Ransome would be the one to take the Minnows tubing. I carefully watched the motorboats pulling Brownstone campers behind them, but from this distance, I couldn't make out who was driving.

By the time the bugle blew for third activity period, my anticipation was killing me. Ruby and the other Minnows were skipping down the hill toward the boat dock, picking up speed.

“Slow down!” Lizbeth called, hunched over a Sunfish she was tying down. She straightened and turned to me, squinting under her visor. “Helena, will you get them checked in and into their ski vests? The boat should be here soon.”

As if on cue, the roar of an approaching engine drowned out the excited chattering of the Minnows. It slowed to a steady chug as Buzz steered the boat toward the dock. Ransome was next to him. Behind his sunglasses I couldn't see his eyes, but I could see his smile.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked as he tossed two coiled ropes onto the dock. They landed with two loud thuds, as he jumped nimbly off the boat and onto the dock to help me tie it down.

I gave him a flirtatious smile as I figure-eighted the bow line around one of the large metal cleats. “They needed more help,” I half lied.

“I got it,” Lizbeth said impatiently, coming around behind me to unwrap and retie the knot I'd just made. “Can you just get the girls in their life vests?”

I blushed. “Sure.”

Ransome winked at me as I turned, and my blush deepened.

“All right,” I called, smiling inside. The girls rushed to form a line on the dock in front of me. “Everyone grab a vest, and I'll make sure you're all strapped in correctly.”

They scurried for the blue neoprene mountain of ski vests, picking through the pile for the newest, least moldy ones.

“One at a time!” I shouted over their squeals. But outside of the flurry, I noticed Ruby hanging back.

“Ruby,” I called. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Aren't you excited to go tubing?”

She shrugged and nodded.

I commanded a squirming Minnow to hold still as I snapped the plastic clasps of her preserver. “Is this your first time on the motorboat, Ruby?”

Again she nodded slowly.

“Okay. Don't worry. It'll be so much fun you won't want to stop! I promise.” I waved Ruby to me and knelt down to help her untwist the straps of a vest.

“There.” I smiled when she was all secure. She gave me a weak smile back.

As the first girls piled on, Lizbeth and I tossed the towlines into the boat. Buzz shifted the engine into gear, and the boat chugged away from the dock, picking up speed as it got farther from the shore. Ransome looked back once, and I smiled and waved.

“Have fun!” I shouted after them.

Ruby was in the last group to go out in the boat. Like a good friend, Melanie had waited with her, cross-examining each returning group. “See?” she would say eagerly to Ruby. Still, their thrilled testimonials weren't convincing enough for Ruby. She stood tight-lipped and serious in her life vest, her arms wrapped protectively around her, and when the time finally came to climb aboard, she wouldn't give Ransome her hand to help her on.

“Have you ever been tubing before?” Ransome asked.

Ruby's curls shook side to side.

“Would you feel better if Helena came with us?” He turned his green-flecked eyes on me. I melted, watching him be so cute with Ruby.

Ruby nodded her head and looked to me eagerly.

“Is that okay?” I asked Lizbeth, beside me.

“Sure.” She shrugged and glanced at the diving watch on her wrist. “Y'all just have to be quick. The bugle's gonna blow in fifteen minutes.”

“No problem,” I said, and climbed quickly into the boat after Ruby.

A camper named Jillian from Cabin One East volunteered to tube first. She squealed when she jumped from the boat into the cold water. Ransome explained to her how to lie on her belly across the large inner tube and hold on, with elbows bent, to the tow rope at the front. She was to give a thumbs-up for more speed and a thumbs-down to go slower. Jillian nodded and doggie-paddled to the tube bobbing behind the boat.

As we coasted around the lake, Ruby and Melanie giggled in the bow, their hair whipping behind them in the wind. Ransome sat with me in the stern. I kept an eye on Jillian to make sure she was okay as we picked up speed—she bumped over the wake, grinning and squinting comically against the spray in her face—but my attention was on Ransome.

He was facing into the wind, and it tousled even his short hair. It was the golden down, though, on the tan arm lying on the seat cushion next to mine, that I couldn't stop staring at. And the large callused hands, which I still couldn't believe had wandered over my body. Suddenly I had the uncontrollable urge to touch him, just his hand even, just to make contact.

Fighting the urge, I turned my attention to Jillian. Finally her hands were tiring. She let go of the tow rope and drifted in the wake while Buzz made a careful, wide arc and circled around to pick her up. As she climbed out of the water, jubilant and shivering from cold and excitement, Melanie plunged in for her turn.

From the helm, Buzz called over the low hum of the engine, “Hel, have you ever driven one of these?”

“A Whaler? No, I've only sailed,” I yelled.

“Wanna give it a try?”

My eyebrows arched. “You mean drive the boat?”

“It's not hard,” said Buzz. “Ransome can show you.”

“Yeah,” Ransome said, moving to the wheel. “Come on.” He cocked his head with a sly smile.

Melanie had already heaved herself onto the tube and was floating expectantly behind the boat.

“Okay . . .” I said. There was no way to say no to that smile.

Buzz moved back to the stern and reclined across the seat, shouting instructions to Melanie. I stood at the wheel, and Ransome stood very close behind me. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the throttle, I figured it couldn't be so different from driving a car.

Ransome wrapped his hand over mine. He clicked the unlock button on the throttle and gently pushed the lever, and we idled forward. Slowly he continued pushing the throttle until the boat accelerated, raising the bow in front and churning a white wake behind us. I nervously glanced over his shoulder to make sure Melanie was okay. She was happily bouncing along and giving the thumbs-up. I laughed and smiled at Ransome, my hair whipping into my eyes and mouth.

“She wants to go faster,” I said, but the wind stole my words, and Ransome leaned closer for me to say it again. My lips brushed against his ear, and again I had an urge to kiss it. Not possible, not here. “She wants to go faster,” I repeated, feeling slightly dizzy from the rush of hormones and the movement of the boat.

Ransome nodded, pushed the throttle forward more, and stepped back to let me steer.

It was a powerful feeling, being both in control and a little out of it. The water blurred under us. The lake had never felt so big before. From the dock the lake seemed constant, definable, but from the speeding boat, it rushed by, expanding and contracting with every tiny rotation of the wheel. The slightest redirection and a new perspective instantly unfolded. I understood why the guys were drawn to motorboating more than the sailing the girls loved.

I drove us out to the middle of the lake, then turned back toward the dock in a wide arc, sending Melanie flying over the wake. I corrected, snaking to the other side, and she bumped back over the wake and behind the boat again.

Ruby and Buzz were yelling, but I couldn't hear them because of the wind. “What?” I mouthed to Ruby.

“She wants to do it again,” Ransome shouted into my ear. “Melanie wants to go over the wake again.”

“Okay.” I checked the horizon for other boats. There was one, another motorboat—larger and sleeker than our Boston Whaler, definitely not a camp boat, probably one of the vacationers nearby—but it had already passed safely in front of us. The wake behind it was small, just choppy enough to give Melanie a fun ride without throwing her from the tube, so I turned the wheel to drive over the end of the boat's wake.

“Helena!”

Two hands shot around me from behind and grabbed the steering wheel, yanking it to the right.

As we banked sharply away from the wake of the other boat, the Whaler practically sideways in the water from the sharpness of the turn, I saw it—the towline dragging a water skier behind the other boat. His head was barely visible above the water. We would have hit him.

People always describe accidents as if they happened in slow motion, but there was no deceleration of time for me, no neat splicing of events so that I could see it all in linear progression, like beads on a string. Instead it was as if time collapsed in on itself, like a telescope. I saw the skier at the same moment that the raised bottom of our boat scraped sickeningly against the side of another boat we hadn't seen behind us, and the same moment my head smacked against the surface of the water like a wall, and the same moment lightning seemed to split my head in two, and the same moment the water enveloped me. But the blackness seeped in slowly, like an ink bleed, until I was gone, and all that remained was water.