Robert looked a bit pale when he stepped off the ferry. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“A little seasick, that’s all,” he answered weakly. “It’s pretty rough out there. A lot of passengers were sick.”
I pushed his soaking wet hair back from his forehead. “Will they cancel the ferry?”
“Not unless the storm grows a lot worse.” He looked at the sky. “Which it might do.”
“I hope Kristy, Shannon, and Mary Anne can make it across. They’re due on the next ferry.”
“I hope so, too.” He took my hand. “Come on, let’s get out of this rain. I’m starting to feel waterlogged.”
We waiting in the doorway of the Harbor Store for almost all of Robert’s break time. It was sort of nice being there together in the rain. Mitch, the ferry crew member I’d met, walked by and grinned from beneath his yellow slicker hood.
“Are we going back out?” Robert asked.
“Sure we are.” Mitch laughed. “This is nothing. We’ve gone out in hurricanes.”
Robert swallowed hard. “A hurricane might be better than that constant slow rocking. I’ve never felt so sick. I didn’t even know I got seasick until today.”
Mitch laughed. “Come on, Robert. Back to work. We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.”
Looking even paler, Robert turned to wave to me before he went off with Mitch. I walked home in the rain. In the kitchen, Dad was talking on the phone to someone from the office. “Just fax that stuff to them, and that should do it,” he was saying. Claudia was still working silently on her plans.
Dad hung up and turned to Claudia. “How’s it going?” he asked her.
“Okay, but I don’t know why I’m bothering,” she replied. “If this weather keeps up there won’t be a parade.”
It was if I hadn’t even come in. Both of them were ignoring me. I noticed that Claudia had looked through her photos. The third package, which I hadn’t seen, was lying open. On the top was a picture of Claud and me, posed next to a sand castle. Claudia had mounted the camera on a beach chair, then reached out and clicked the shot. It was a good picture. Just by looking at it, anyone could tell that we were close friends.
Were close friends.
Soon it was time to head down to the dock to meet Shannon, Mary Anne, and Kristy. It was raining outside so I grabbed my poncho and headed out. I passed Claudia on my way through the kitchen. “I’m going to the dock to meet Kristy and everyone. Come if you want,” I said.
Without a word, Claudia stood up and went to her room.
I pulled a the red wagon off the porch to carry suitcases and began walking toward the dock. I was just one house away when Claudia came out of our house, pulling on her zebra-striped rain slicker. She didn’t even look at me, so I didn’t wait for her. We walked all the way to the dock that way — me about three houses ahead the whole while. Every once in awhile I would peek over my shoulder at her, and Claudia would look away sharply.
We were nearly to the dock when the sky opened up completely. It looked as though the rain was being thrown down from the sky in buckets. I started to run, and so did Claudia. Finally, I reached the dock. The ferry wasn’t there.
Splashing through puddles, I ran to the Harbor Store. “Where’s the boat?” I asked.
The young woman behind the counter looked up at me. “It’s storming, and the water is rough,” she said, as if the answer should have been obvious. “They’ll be a little delayed.”
“The ferry will be late,” I snapped at Claudia as she made her way into the store. I decided to stand in the doorway and wait.
Claudia headed away from the doorway. I peered around the corner of the store and watched her turn up toward the Beach Glass Gallery.
For about ten minutes, I waited in the doorway, watching the rain. Then I heard the ferry horn blare. In the next instant, the Kiki appeared through the gray mist and driving rain.
I waited for the boat to dock before leaving the shelter of the doorway. Claudia must have heard the ferry horn too, because she appeared on the boardwalk just then, heading down to the ferry.
I looked for Robert, but didn’t see him. Then I remembered he sometimes took a break at this time of day. He’d probably stayed on the Patchogue side. Good, I thought. If my friends hadn’t spotted him yet, I’d get to tell my side of the story before they asked Claudia a million questions.
We stood a few feet apart from each other and watched the passengers come off. Kristy was the first of our friends to appear. She wasn’t smiling. Never before had I seen a person actually look green. But I’m not kidding, her face was a sickly, grayish olive color.
“Kristy!” I yelled happily.
She nodded at me and gave a small wave. I ran to her and took the canvas bag she was dragging behind her. “I have never felt so sick in my whole life,” she muttered as a greeting.
Claudia had joined us. “Where are the others?” she asked.
“Mary Anne and Shannon are still waiting on the line to get off the boat,” said Kristy.
At that moment thunder cracked so loudly we all jumped. A jagged line of lightning split the sky, all the way down into the bay.
Shannon and Mary Anne appeared on the deck then. Both of them were ashen. They smiled weakly. “I’ve never been so happy to get off a boat in my life,” said Shannon when she reached us.
“Put your stuff in here,” I said pointing toward my wagon. I’d brought an extra poncho with me to throw over the bags. I spread it out over the bags. Then we began walking away from the boat.
The rain had let up just a little. Still, it was hard to do much more than walk, with our heads down against the rain. Shannon, Kristy, and Mary Anne were still recovering from the ride over, anyway.
We reached the house at last, and everyone peeled off their wet gear. Dad came in from the main room when he heard us. “Hi, girls,” he greeted them. “Don’t panic. This is the first bad day we’ve had. I hope it will be the only one.”
“We’re not worried,” said Shannon. “This place looks wonderful. You guys must be having the greatest time.”
“Some people are,” said Claudia meaningfully.
“Claudia, why don’t you show the girls their rooms,” Dad suggested. Kristy shot me a questioning look. She’d picked up on the fact that Dad hadn’t asked me to show the rooms.
“Someone can room with me,” Claudia said as she headed for the bedrooms. “And two of you can share a room. That way no one will have to sleep in her room.”
I stood in the kitchen, stunned at Claudia’s rudeness. Dad glanced at me. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. But maybe I just imagined it. Abruptly, he turned and left.
Thanks goodness Kristy, Shannon, and Mary Anne were finally here. At least I’d have three friends to talk to.
I went to find them. I was going to say someone could room with me, despite Claudia’s plans. At the top of the stairs, I saw the door to Claudia’s room standing open. Drawing nearer, I could see all four girls inside. Their backs were toward me.
I could also hear what Claudia was saying. “If I was drowning and it was time for the ferry, she’d probably just let me drown. She won’t be wasting time with us if she can be seeing Robert instead, that much I can tell you for sure.”
I must have made some noise, because they all turned around suddenly. Claudia looked down at the floor. Shannon, Kristy, and Mary Anne just looked at me, their eyes filled with questions.
There went my chance to tell my side of the story first.
Fourth of July had to be one of the most bizarre days of my life. It started with Claudia insisting that we all get up early to go down to the soggy beach and build a huge sand castle on an old piece of plywood she’d found.
To be honest, Claudia didn’t insist that I join them. She was still acting as thought I weren’t alive. (So was my father.) But I went along anyway. I wasn’t going to stay home alone and act like some kind of outcast.
Pulling a small convoy of
red wagons behind us, we splashed through puddles on our way down to the beach. Claudia had managed to borrow three wagons, one from Mr. Majors, one from our neighbors, and one from Samantha, and she had the one which came with our beach house, too. Each of us had a wagon, while Claudia struggled with her large sheet of plywood.
It had stopped pouring, but it was still overcast. “I don’t think they’ll even have the parade in this weather,” said Kristy. “Look at the sky.”
“It might clear up,” Mary Anne said.
Kristy gave her a small shove on the arm.
“But, um, they’ll probably cancel the parade anyway.” Mary Anne quickly changed her opinion.
“Definitely,” added Shannon. “I think we should just forget the whole thing.”
Claudia stopped. Resting her plywood on the boardwalk, she studied our friends’ faces with a frown. “Don’t you guys want to be in the parade?”
“Not really,” Kristy admitted.
“Why not?” Claudia cried.
“Well, aren’t we a bit old for costumes and parades and all?” Mary Anne said. “I feel a little foolish dressing up as a princess.”
“Being a princess isn’t so bad!” I said. “What about my costume?”
Claudia glared at me, but I didn’t care. My costume was the most ridiculous of all.
That morning, Claudia had tossed a green dragon costume onto my bed. It was made out of her green jumpsuit. She’d taped triangular green spikes to the back, leading all the way down to a spiky tail made from Claudia’s green scarf. My dragon headpiece was a green Peter Pan hat Mary Anne had borrowed from the Pikes (leftover from a Halloween past). It, too, had been adorned with spikes. Shannon had brought a pair of mittens with felt claws attached to the fingertips. (They were the remains of a school play in which she had starred as a lion.) They were part of my costume, too.
I’m sure that casting me as the evil dragon was a not-very-subtle dig from Claudia. I probably should have thrown the stupid costume right back in her face. But I didn’t want to be left out.
“You guys!” Claudia whined. “I’ve been working on this project for days. You can’t back out now.”
“Oh, all right!” Kristy gave in. “I guess we can’t say no after all the work you’ve done.”
“Plus we dragged all that costume stuff with us,” added Shannon. “We might as well use it.”
“I’m still praying for rain, though,” Kristy murmured as we continued on.
She didn’t get rain. All she got was mist, fog, grayness, and a bit of drizzle. Just enough to make the day depressing and the sand wet.
Claudia set down the board, and on top of it we tried to re-create the castle she’d sketched. At first, the wet sand looked just right. But we soon saw that it didn’t hold together. Or maybe the castle Claudia wanted was too large to be made of sand. Whatever the reason, it wouldn’t stay stuck together. No sooner had we built a tower than the base would slide out from under it, or a big crack would appear down the side.
Claudia had made a number of colorful pennants for the castle, out of sticks and bright construction paper. But every time she poked one in the sand, that part of the castle would crumble.
“This isn’t working. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing,” said Kristy hopefully.
“I’m not giving up,” Claudia insisted. She went to the water’s edge and grabbed two fistfuls of seaweed. Working quickly, she poked seaweed into all the cracks until the castle was sealed together. “Here,” she said, satisfied. “That will hold it.”
We picked up the board and loaded it onto the four wagons, which Claudia had tied together with rope. Pulling the float off the beach was nearly disastrous. For one thing, it was heavy. Nearly three feet high and three feet wide, the castle was solid, wet sand. And every time we hit a bump, some of it crumbled. By the time we reached the boardwalk, Claudia had to do some more seaweed patching. But, walking at a snail’s pace, we finally pulled and pushed our gigantic sand castle to the house in one piece.
“It’s almost time,” Claudia said as we parked our castle and went in. She meant time to put on our ridiculous costumes. Mary Anne was the princess, Shannon was the lady-in-waiting, Kristy was the prince, Claudia was the court jester, and, of course, I was the dragon. Even though I felt like an idiot, I had to admit that the others looked good. Between the parts Claudia had devised from her own clothing and the bits and pieces the other had brought, the costumes really came together.
Mary Anne and Shannon were in long gowns with veils. Kristy’s prince costume included a crown, a cape, and a sword we’d bought when we’d put on a video production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs with the kids we sit for. Claudia had on a harlequin-print shirt and bright yellow capri-length leggings. From papier-mâché, she’d constructed curly, pointed toes for her sneakers. She’d painted her sneakers, and the points, yellow so they really looked like court jester shoes. She’d used cardboard to make a matching hat.
We were all assembling in the kitchen when Dad appeared, dressed in a red, white, and blue suit with a bright red bow tie. He wore a tall top hat, and his hair was powdered white. “What do you think?” he asked (of everyone but me). “I’m Uncle Sam. My … my friend went to Patchogue and rented costumes for us. She’s going to be Lady Liberty.”
My humiliation was complete.
“We’d better get going,” said Dad. I couldn’t believe this was my father, wasting precious work time, so he could march around in front of a bunch of strangers in a stupid costume. And with his new girlfriend!
Didn’t he have a fax to send or something? In the past he always had! It suddenly seemed to me that having a father who worked all the time might not be the worst thing in the world. I was starting to miss it.
“See you down at the parade,” Dad said cheerily.
“Your father has a friend who’s a she?” Kristy questioned after Dad walked out the door.
“Don’t remind me,” I said.
“She’s very nice,” Claudia said in a huffy voice. “I spoke to her over the phone and she seemed extremely sweet. When I asked to borrow her wagon for this float she sent it over with Mr. McGill that very night.”
Right then I wanted to hit Claudia over the head with her jester stick. (Which was artistically rendered from a thin tree branch wrapped in colorful hair ribbons.)
“Let’s go,” said Claudia. By the time my tail and I made it through the door, Dad wasn’t in sight. He’d probably dashed off to meet his new love, Lady Liberty.
Claudia and Kristy took hold of the front wagon handles. Shannon and Mary Anne pushed, with the handles in the rear, and our float began rolling toward the dock with me — the dragon — trudging along behind.
All the entrants were assembling down by the dock. The parade would march along the bay side, and then back.
Surveying the crowd, I spotted Dad and Samantha. She looked completely gorgeous in a flowing white gown strapped over one shoulder. Perched on her brown waves of hair was a Statue of Liberty crown, and she held a torch. Dad gazed at her with so much admiration you’d think she really was the Statue of Liberty come to life.
I was relieved to hear the blast of the ferry horn as the Kiki pulled away from the dock. At least Robert wouldn’t see me looking so absurd in this costume.
The parade began promptly at noon. Despite the weather, a lot of people came out to see it. There was a wide array of costumes: Three guys dressed as the tattered soldiers of The Spirit of ’76. One woman showed up in a red sequinned baton-twirler’s outfit with a big headdress of shimmering gold and silver metallic streamers. A sash across her costume read: Miss Firecracker. A man on stilts was dressed as Abraham Lincoln.
Ours wasn’t the only beach theme. There was a girl dressed as The Little Mermaid, marching with her father, who was costumed as King Triton. Another couple were Popeye and Olive Oyl.
As we marched by I heard people ooh and ahh at our costumes. Claudia smiled smugly. (Any other day I would have said she s
miled proudly or happily. But today her smile looked so self-satisfied and smug I couldn’t stand it.)
“Girls!” called a voice from the crowd, “Castle float!” Kristy, Claudia, and Mary Anne stopped to see who had called. Shannon and I didn’t stop as quickly. The castle wobbled as our wagons smashed into one another. I spotted the caller, a woman with a camera slung around her neck. She ran toward us. “I’m from the paper. Can I get a picture?”
Oh, no! If this were in the paper, Robert was sure to see it.
“Get in close to your sand castle,” the woman instructed. “Now smile.”
But instead of smiling, we all gasped in horror as our sand castle chose that moment to slide onto the ground.
“Oh, well,” the woman laughed nervously as she went on to photograph some other marchers.
“That’s it!” Claudia shouted. “I’ve had it!” Angrily, she stomped off, leaving the rest of us to cope with the heap of sand.
Kristy sighed deeply as she lifted the plywood off the wagons and leaned it against a tree. “I feel as though we’ve walked into a war zone around here. I’ve never seen Claudia so upset.”
“Poor Claudia,” said Mary Anne, beginning to load the wet sand into a wagon.
“Poor Claudia?” I yelped. Had they thought I wasn’t listening? “What about me? I’m the one no one is talking to!”
“That is sort of your own fault, don’t you think?” said Kristy, in her usual blunt way.
“Not at all!” I snapped.
We picked up most of the sand, and brushed the rest to the side. We didn’t bother to finish the parade; we trudged home instead. It was just as well. As we reached the house, it started to rain again.
The rest of that day and Sunday were simply awful. The weather was miserable. Dad and Claudia still wouldn’t speak to me, except through one of the others. (“Kristy, please ask Stacey to pass the meatballs.” “Shannon, would you ask Stacey where she put my green scarf?”) Shannon, Kristy, and Mary Anne didn’t seem to know what to do. It was hard for them, being caught in the middle between Claudia and me. Plus, Claudia and I were both in miserable moods.