Chapter Four

At the end of the day, our team is on the dock, cooling our feet in the water, listening to Sarah interrogate Jesse. The Trips are up in the tree house, refusing to come down to get ready for bed. Most of the older cousins are up with the aunts and uncles, catching up, drinking, and taking in the sunset.

“So where have you been all these years?”

“Living in Colorado, where my Dad's been too busy being a hotshot lawyer to come visit his family.”

“So you came to visit them? But aren't they gone this summer, to Europe?”

“So I've realized.”

Ellie cuts in. “What? You just flew out here, on a whim, without seeing if they'd be here first?

“I drove, actually. I wanted to take a road trip before I started school. I kind of went here and there and found myself in Georgia.” I'm as impressed by his spontaneity as Ellie is befuddled by it.

“Do they even know you're here?” Sarah asks, determined to get the attention back on her.

“Yep.”

“How? I thought you just showed up.” Ellie can't let the details go.

“Well, I got here early this morning and hung around their house, waiting. After a hot while, I decided to come here. I remember him and Grampa Joe being great friends. That's when I saw you all. He had their number and told me where to find the house key. When I went home and cleaned up after the match, I got in touch with them.”

“Where are they now? I just love your grandparents and miss them so much this summer.” Sarah's trying a new angle.

“Holland. Went to the Rijksmuseum today.”

Sarah looks like she's about to profess her love of Dutch art but Ellie switches gears.

“Let's talk about that match today.”

I groan. “We won...what's the big deal?”

“Barely. Pitiful. That's what it was.”

Sarah smirks, knowing she's landed on a better topic. “Persis was pitiful, you mean.”

“Don't worry Sarah,” I sarcastically console her. “It's all part of Ellie's plan.” Ellie had filled them all in. Herc and Sarah opposed it, preferring the more straightforward smash and grab approach that's worked well for them in the past, but even they can't put off Ellie.

I'm annoyed because even though I am not great at volleyball, I was also the shortest person on the court. Sarah is an outside hitter for USC. Herc, who just signed to play tight-end for Georgia and Thomas, Jenna's husband who played a few years in the NBA, didn't even have to jump to block at the net. Jesse's almost as big as Herc and proved himself to be a natural; he was everywhere, making digs and laying down crushing spikes. Of course I was the worst, I think.

“Thomas spraining his ankle wasn't part of the plan. Now we're a man down.”

I know how seriously Ellie takes this, so I try to console her. “He might be better soon. He's up there icing it.”

“Maybe. But what about the triathlon on Friday? He was one of our cyclists.”

“We'll figure something out.”

We all fall quiet, taking in the chorus of crickets and cicadas and the bellow of the bullfrog that's taken residence somewhere down the shoreline.

“I'm a little confused about the plan as far as Persis goes.” It's Jesse. Ellie's looking at him like he's slow.

“I told you, it's okay. Persis is supposed to play bad right now.”

He pauses for a second, then. “Right. But it seems like it didn't really play out that way.”

Ellie looks at his thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

“I'm pretty good with numbers.”

“And?” She asks impatiently.

“I was kind of mentally keeping stats and Persis had the least amount of unforced errors.”

Sarah's shaking her head. “No way. She missed that easy short set to me and she went for that one that was clearly going out and...well, she sucked.” She turns to Ellie and Herc for affirmation, but they're both clearly replaying the match in their head. They eventually look at each other and then Jesse.

“You're right.”

Sarah doesn't like this. “What about her underhanded granny serve? They were so weak they were slamming them home first touch.”

Herc, who isn't the most intellectual, but has sports smarts all day is the one to respond. “What do you expect? She doesn't play college volleyball. Come to think of it, she did her part. You were the one going for the big kills and hitting them wide. I hit two easy put-aways into the net. Ellie's setting was ham-fisted. Tom was as useful as a tree after the first set.”

“Don't forget--I hit two serves into the net.” Jesse added, smiling over at me.

Sarah looks poisonously at all of us. I'm enjoying this shift of blame, but it isn't good for the team, so I speak up, trying to smooth things over. “Look, it was our first match. We have four more. Maybe we can get together and play after breakfast?” I look to Sarah. “Maybe you and I can get there early and we can work on an overhead serve?” I'm bolstered by the possibility that I might not be permanently terrible.

Sarah's ego recovers. She's self-centered but she's not totally evil and definitely wants to win. “Sure, Persis.”

“Great. Thanks. Well, I'm gonna head up to my cabin. I've got some Hawthorne to read if I'm going to be of any use to y'all at Enlightenment tomorrow night.”

“Good thinking.”

“How're you getting home, Jesse?” It's full dark now and the moon, a sliver of what it will soon be, is starting to crest over the hills. Sarah's face is full of concern.

He points to the boat that's tied up on the far end of the dock. She clearly wants to talk more, to linger, but he's already pulling the tie off the cleat and is stepping into the john boat. “See you on the volleyball court.” He looks right at me. I can't help but smile back.

Before I have to deal with Sarah, who's no doubt soured again, I start up the small path that will take me along the lake to my cabin. Roscoe, my grandparents' border collie, comes trotting down the hill to escort me. I pat his head. “Thanks boy.”

I walk slowly, enjoying the cooling breeze. When I get onto the porch and open the door, I turn to Roscoe. “You wanna come in?”

His stretches and sniffs the air. I know better. He's no inside dog. He waits until I close the door and then trots back down the trail, ready to protect the next person he comes across.

I realize then what a long day it's been. I want to climb straight in bed, but instead, I climb up into the loft. I open the window to let in the balmy night air. I sit a moment and admire the stars that have grown brighter even in the last five minutes. I switch on the reading light and turn my attentions to the collection of Hawthorne short stories I've been reading. They are strange, magical stories and before long I am somewhere else, in the dark, malevolent forest, filled with dim figures and mists, obscuring the lights that glimmer on the horizon.