Summer Ball Page 12

  THE FIRST VOICE DANNY HEARD AS HIS HEAD POPPED BACK ABOVE the surface was Will Stoddard’s. “No worries, Tess. Your hero has arrived.”

  Ty reached over and helped Danny back into the boat, saying, “You know, when Will said to jump in anytime, I don’t think this is what he had in mind.”

  Everybody in the canoe laughed then. As foolish as Danny felt in front of Tess, like he was the entertainment at SeaWorld, he had to join in. They all kept laughing until they got the canoe to the side of Tess’s dock and she tossed Ty the rope.

  “You sure know how to make an entrance, Walker,” Tess said as she reached out to give him a hand.

  “I think I might’ve held my tuck a little too long,” he said.

  Tess waved her arms above her head like a crazy person, doing this spazzy puppet dance. “Is that what they call a tuck now in diving?” she said.

  She was wearing the gray Warriors sweatshirt they’d given her as an honorary member of the team after they’d won the travel championship, jeans with holes in both knees and what looked to be new Puma sneakers. Danny could spot new sneakers even in the dark.

  And he knew it didn’t matter what she was wearing, here or anywhere, she always looked great to him.

  He thought, she’s the same old Tess.

  And I’m a mess.

  On the dock, Will told Danny he should look on the bright side, despite the way he’d been playing lately, especially for his new coach.

  “See, you can hit the water if you fall out of a boat,” Will said.

  “Not funny,” Danny said.

  “Well, we both know that’s a total lie,” Will said.

  Everybody was talking at once then, Danny introducing Zach to Tess, Will saying they called him Danny Junior, Tess saying she could see why, Tess wanting to know if she should try to find Danny some dry clothes and Danny saying, no, he was fine, which was a total lie.

  Tess said her aunt and her two cousins had gone into town for ice cream, but that her uncle was inside watching the Red Sox–Yankees game if anybody wanted to join him. She was sure he’d love the company.

  “Television,” Will said, making it sound as if he were talking about heaven.

  “Not just television,” Tess said. “He’s got Direct up here.”

  “Yessssss!” Will said, pumping his fist. “What kind of snacks we talking about?”

  Tess said that her two cousins were boys, one twelve and one fourteen, so there was more junk food in the kitchen than you could imagine. Her aunt had taken them grocery shopping the day before and let them go wild.

  Will said, “I am so there with my new best friend, Uncle…?”

  “Sam.”

  Then because he was Will, because he still had Danny’s back, he immediately shoved Ty and Zach in the direction of The House and said, “Let’s leave these two guys alone for a few minutes. Walker probably wants to show Tess his backflip next.”

  Over his shoulder, Will said, “Call us if you need us.”

  “We won’t,” Danny said. “Call you or need you.”

  When they were gone, Tess sprinted down the dock on her long legs, disappeared through the backdoor, came right back out with two huge red beach towels.

  “You must be freezing to death,” she said.

  “You see now why Will says I turn into Captain Klutz when you’re around.”

  “Nah,” Tess said. “I’m still just seeing the captain of the team.”

  “Not lately,” Danny said.

  “You want to talk about it?” she said.

  Danny said she had no idea.

  They sat on the back porch in old rickety, squeaky, wooden rocking chairs, Danny feeling like some kind of old man with the red towel over his shoulders. From the television room at the front of The House, the only voice he’d hear occasionally was Will’s, no shocker. From somewhere in the woods, they could hear an owl making hoot noises, as if saying that all these people had crashed his night.

  Danny said that before he told Tess about everything that was going on at camp, he needed to apologize for something. Tess started to say he didn’t, but Danny kept right on going, saying he had been the kind of jerk that even real jerks thought was obnoxious the last time he’d seen her.

  She smiled.

  “Oh, come on now,” she said. “You’re being much too easy on yourself.”

  “Very funny,” he said, smiling back. “I get Will the comedian all day and now you at night.”

  “You lucky dog.”

  “Only if you mean a wet, mangy-type dog.”

  They sat there rocking and squeaking.

  “I mean it,” Danny said. “About being sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “Scott bugs me, is all. But you probably know that, too.”

  “I do.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  Tess said, “He’s actually not a bad guy, if you don’t mind complete perfection.”

  Danny wanted to say it had never bothered him with her but kept that particular thought inside his head. The way he kept a lot of thoughts like that, about this girl, inside his head.

  “You also have to care a lot more about Roger Federer than I do,” Tess said.

  “So you don’t want to be the queen of Middletown tennis anymore?”

  “I guess I’ll wait until next summer to win Wimbledon,” Tess said, then quickly told him how bored she got after he and Will and Ty left, and how after about two days of her moping around the house, her mom said she needed some kind of outing. Which, Tess knew, meant some kind of road trip. That night she got on her computer, MapQuested how far away her uncle actually was from Right Way, discovered the distance was 1.8 miles and now here she was, surprise!

  For once, he wasn’t Captain Klutz.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  “I also know that,” Tess said. “Now tell me some stuff I don’t know.”

  Danny talked for a long time. Told her all about it, all the gory details. Finally admitted to her that Nick Pinto had been right when he’d called him out, that Danny had tricked up his knee injury, knowing his knee was already swollen even if it wasn’t bothering him anymore, figuring it was the easiest way for him to get the heck out of there without looking like a total wussball.

  Tess never said a word the whole time he was talking, never interrupted him once. Never looked anywhere except right at him and right through him.

  When he finished, she said, “So do you want to know what I really think?”

  “It’s why we hijacked that dopey boat,” Danny said. “Course I want to know what you think.”

  “Well, I think…” She scratched her head, paused briefly, like she was confused. “I think…that if you ever think about doing something this stupid ever again, I will personally break both your knees.”

  She went inside, came back with two bottles of Snapple and handed him one. She’d also brought him two more dry towels, even though he’d said he was okay with what he had.

  “It can’t be as bad as you say,” Tess said.

  “Really?” he said. “Well, guess what. The only time I really felt like I wanted to be at this stupid camp was tonight. And tonight what we basically did was get away from camp. And come to see you.”

  “You just have to show this guy,” she said. “This Coach Ed.”

  “What if he’s right about me?”

  “He’s not.”

  Just like that. Like she was saying, Case closed, done deal, next question.

  “You don’t know that,” Danny said.

  “I know you, Walker. I know you better than anybody. I know you better than he ever will. Or any coach ever will, outside of your dad, when you start playing for him. But you’re acting like this Coach Ed is suddenly the world’s expert on Danny Walker, that he has all these big insights into you that the rest of us don’t. Get real.”

  Danny said, “How about I just get out?” Knowing how weak that sounded.

  Air ball.

  “You ca
n’t quit,” Tess said.

  “So I beat my head against the wall for two more weeks, with a coach who acts like he only wants to put me into games as some kind of last resort,” Danny said.

  He heard a war whoop from Will inside, which meant the Red Sox had done something. Will and Zach were Red Sox fans, Ty was a huge Yankees fan. Danny didn’t know where Uncle Sam weighed in.

  Tess said, “You know what this really is? It’s Ty’s dad cutting you all over again. Another grown-up telling you you’re not good enough. I thought you always used to tell me that the championship you guys really won in travel was the championship of any kid who got told by an adult they weren’t good enough?”

  Danny knew he was smiling. He couldn’t help himself, even after the two crummiest days on record. She never forgot anything. She remembered Danny’s life better than he did sometimes.

  “It’s my dad’s line, actually.”

  “So now you have to do that again,” Tess said. “You show him, you show the whole camp, if you have to. You show this guy Rasheed who keeps knocking you down. You’re not quitting, and you’re not believing something from this coach you know isn’t true and I know isn’t true.”

  Danny wanted a ball in his hands now. Wished he’d let Zach bring his ball with him, so he could hold it, roll it around in his hands, dribble it on the back porch, flick it straight up in the air. A ball in his hands had always made him feel smarter, even smart enough to keep up with Tess. A ball in Danny’s hands had always made him feel that he could figure anything out, like it was just a simple basketball problem, finding the smartest way to get the ball from here to there and then through the hoop.

  “You didn’t hear them laughing at me in the gym,” he said quietly.

  “For one play,” Tess said. “One stupid play. Ty broke his wrist once because of one stupid play that wasn’t even your fault.” Tess shrugged, smiled. “Get over it, Walker.”

  There was a rap on the window. They both turned around. There was Will, pressing his nose against the glass, mashing it. Anything, Danny knew, to get a laugh. Anything and everything. “We gotta bounce,” Will said. “Or we’re going to get even more busted than we already are.”

  Danny nodded.

  “You make the whole thing sound simple,” he said to Tess.

  “No, sir,” she said. “From what you told me about this coach and the other players, it’s going to be even harder than when you got cut that time. It’s not Middletown now, it’s not your dad’s team, it’s not all your friends cheering you on. But you can do this.”

  “Because you say I can?”

  Tess put her hand out for a low five. When he didn’t slap skin hard enough, she kept it out there, giving him a look, so he did it again, with more feeling this time.

  “Now you’re talking,” she said, “like my Danny Walker.”

  Her Danny Walker.

  Now she pulled him up out of his rocking chair, like a player helping him up after he’d gotten knocked down on the court, leaned down and gave him a quick hug before he knew what was happening.

  “This one’s for the championship of you, big guy,” Tess said.

  15

  IT WAS TEN-THIRTY WHEN THEY STARTED BACK. WILL OFFERED TO help with the paddling this time, saying he didn’t want to get ragged on for the whole rest of camp. But Ty said no, they needed to get back before breakfast.

  Danny said, “What’s the camp version of getting grounded for life?”

  “Wait, I know that one,” Will said. “You get more time with Coach Ed.”

  For some reason the trip back seemed to take twice as long to Danny, even though he was working just as hard with his paddle, still watching the way Ty did it, using his shoulders, bringing it back through the water until it was even with his hip, then lifting it straight up and doing the whole thing again.

  Maybe, he thought, the whole thing felt like it was taking longer because he was moving away from Tess now instead of toward her.

  Right before he had gotten into the canoe, he had asked her how long she was staying in Maine.

  “I’m liking it better here already,” she said.

  “So you’re going to hang around for a while?”

  “Just to see how this all comes out.”

  Danny smiled, thinking about that part. Will must have been looking at him from where he was sitting in the middle of the canoe because he said, “Nobody should look as happy as you doing row, row, row your boat.”

  Danny told him to turn around and navigate. Will said they were doing fine on their own, but he’d keep his eyes peeled for icebergs so they didn’t turn into Leo and what’s-her-name in Titanic.

  “Speaking of girls,” Will said, “how’d it go with you and your conscience?”

  “Tess is my friend, not my conscience,” Danny said.

  “Girlfriend,” Will said. “And conscience.”

  “She basically told me to stop acting like a total idiot,” Danny said.

  From the front of the canoe Ty said, “Sounds like a plan.”

  “She tells you to stop acting whack and you listen,” Will said. “Is that basically it?”

  “Basically.”

  Zach’s head whipped back and forth as he tried to follow the conversation, like he was watching tennis. Beyond him, in the distance, Danny saw the lights from Right Way getting closer, started to wonder what the last part of their plan was going to be. It was, like, they’d busted out, now how did they bust back in without getting caught? His mom, the English teacher, always said the more books you read, the more you admired a good ending.

  “Bottom line?” Will said to Zach. “He’s always liked her better.”

  There was nobody waiting for them at the dock when they got there. Which meant that maybe nobody had come down there looking for them. Or, if they had, maybe they hadn’t counted canoes. Or didn’t know how many there were supposed to be in the first place.

  Or, Danny thought, they knew one of the boats was gone and were just waiting for them back at their bunks.

  He really didn’t know what grounded for life meant at Right Way, just knew there was some kind of honor council made up of other campers. Mr. LeBow had told them about it the first day.

  “If we do get busted—” Will said.

  “When we get busted, you mean,” Ty said, easing the canoe toward the side of the dock.

  “—what are we going to tell them?” Will said.

  “I’ll handle it,” Zach said.

  They all looked at him. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d pulled away from Tess’s dock.

  “You’ll handle it?” Danny said.

  Zach was the one who smiled now. “If you’re really staying,” he said, “I got you.”

  With that, he stood up and, instead of jumping onto the dock, jumped into the water, just deep enough to be over his head. He swam ahead of them to the dock, hoisted himself up on the ladder at the end of it, stood there waiting for them in the moonlight, soaking wet.

  “Like I told you,” Zach said to Danny. “Wet.”

  It was when they came into the clearing between the woods and Gampel that they saw Nick Pinto and the counselor from Boston Garden, Bo Stanton, walking toward them with flashlights.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Lost Boys,” Nick said.

  Bo, who was about 6-6, had long black hair and a thin mustache. He was a senior forward at Boston College. “Or maybe just boys who think they’re on Lost,” he said.

  Nick, all business, said, “I assume you guys know the rules about leaving camp, day or night, without a permission slip, right?”

  Before anybody else could say anything, Danny said, “It was my idea.”

  “And what idea was that, exactly?” Nick said. “You decide to leave by water?”

  Danny couldn’t decide whether Nick was mad about whatever he thought they’d done on the water, wherever they’d gone, or because of the whole deal with his knee the day before. “Listen, if you want to know the tr
uth—”

  “Then let me tell it,” Zach said. “They didn’t take the boat. I did.”

  They’d asked him on the dock why he’d jumped in the water. All Zach said was, “That’s for me to know and for you guys to find out.” Now here he was, taking a step forward, still soaking wet, looking like the biggest little stand-up dude at Right Way.

  “Whoa, there, Danny Junior,” Will said.

  “Shut up for once and let somebody else talk,” Zach said.

  Danny said, “Zach, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Then he told Nick and Bo that some of the older kids had been picking on him earlier, threatening to stuff him in a locker. Nick asked which older kids, and Zach said he didn’t want to squeal on them, he just wanted Nick to know how the whole thing started. “Anyway,” Zach said, like this was something he’d been rehearsing inside his head, “I managed to get away from them—I may be small, but I’m fast—and hid down by the water. When it got dark, I snuck over to the canoes and took one out so I could be by myself.”

  “You took one of these out by yourself?” Nick said.

  Zach grinned. “I’m a strong little sucker, too.”

  Tell me about it, Danny thought.

  “Danny must have been worried about me,” Zach said, “because he came down to the dock and saw me paddling away and he went and got these guys and they came after me.”

  Danny just waited now to see how Zach’s version of a fish story would come out, like this was something he was telling around a campfire.

  “How come only you and Walker are wet?” Nick said.

  “I dropped my paddle,” Zach said. “And when I dove in after it, Danny dove in after me, because he didn’t know what kind of swimmer I was.”

  Zach looked up at Nick and Bo. “You can’t punish them for trying to come after me,” he said.

  Nick said to the rest of them, “And you guys back him up on this?”

  Nobody planned it, but they all stepped forward at the same time so they were even with Zach.

  “Yeah,” Danny said. “We’ve got his back.”

  At least that, he thought, was the whole truth.

  And nothing but.