Camp (23 page)

“You watch your tongue, Rory,” Patsy ordered now at our table, “or Mr. Becker’ll hear about this.”

“But it’s not
my
tongue Mr. Becker cares about, is it?” Though Rory’s war with me had ended when she got Charlie, she kept up her battle with Patsy. Nothing to lose, Rory probably figured. Uncle Ed wouldn’t kick her out now that she was Robin’s best friend.

“Enough!” Patsy banged her fist on the table. Silverware jumped, but none of us did. Immune to this sparring, we just slathered mustard on sandwiches and reached for potato chips.

“But I’m not done,” Rory said, eager to rouse us. Though I pretended not to listen, her words chilled me. “See,” she went on, “I keep picturing Charlie-boy, and I figured out who he reminds me of: Mr. Becker—and I don’t mean Amy’s father. Yes indeedy, little Charlie-boy could be Robin’s brother, all right. Catch my drift, Patsy?”

“Stop it right now, Rory! That’s Amy’s family you’re talkin’ ’bout again.”

I felt Rory’s eyes on me. “Doesn’t seem to bother Amy.”

    “Nope. I don’t care.” My voice came small but free of tears. I picked up my sandwich and chewed on my father’s words: “handsome Becker genes like your Uncle Ed.” And Rory’s observation: “little Charlie-boy could be Robin’s brother.” I had caught Rory’s drift all right, and the question it carried lodged in my gut. I tried to drown it with bug juice, but it stuck with me, trapped for the next four weeks. “Let her say what she wants,” I told Patsy.

My battlefield had changed. The opening strike: telling my mother I knew about her and Uncle Ed. Revenge for her not having seen the truth about camp. My mother didn’t believe that Rory staged the dog attack. She couldn’t understand my wanting to come home. And when I told her I knew her secret, my mother said nothing.

What would happen at the end of the summer? How much longer could my mother and I keep dancing around each other before we’d finally crash?

Rory chose a new target after visiting day—a double: Fran and Karen. I got tired of Rory’s telling them to shut their traps. And when she intercepted Fran’s mail and ordered Jessica to tear it up, I spoke out. “Don’t listen to her, Jess,” I called from my bed.

“Well, la-de-da,” Rory jumped in. “Look who’s looking for trouble.”

“No trouble,” I answered, my voice strong and even. “I just don’t see what’s in it for you.”

“That’s none of your business now, is it, Amy Becker?”

“Nope. I suppose not. But I just thought you’d come up with something new instead of stealing mail again, Rory.”

“You know, Jess, she’s got a point. I’ll come up with something new all right. Maybe try it out on Amy.”

“What do I care?” I answered, looking down at the letter from my father. “Do whatever you want.”

Erin and I continued to meet in the boathouse. I didn’t worry that Uncle Ed might find us. Like Rory, he no longer had power over me. Let him tell my father I still don’t fit in. Let him tell my mother I’m not popular. So what? Even if my uncle had barged into the boathouse with Patsy, I wouldn’t have winced.

All I wanted was to win the tennis tournament and get back to Charlie. At lights out, I would X over the date on my countdown on the last page of my writing pad. As I moved the pen back and forth until black lines nearly tore the paper, I hoped that my brother had really forgotten the cocker spaniel and that he would trust me again. I decided I would give him the tennis trophy if I won it, sort of a reverse homecoming gift.

Cousin Robin and I made it to the finals. Everyone from Bunks 9 and 10 crammed behind the fence, gathering as they had at The Lodge before the Saginaw boys arrived, an invisible line dividing our tribes.

My heart raced when Jody opened a new can of balls, signaling the importance of this match. “Take a five-minute warm-up,” she told us. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need a warm-up,” Robin called, playing to her group before she even hit a ball.

“Yes indeedy, Amy Becker,” Rory yelled. “Robin’s ready for you. No warm-up.”

“Amy,” Jody said matter-of-factly, “start the warm-up, please. Five minutes.”

“Come on, Amy!” Erin cheered as soon as play began. “Hit like you did on visiting day.” Visiting day, when I drilled the ball at my father and knew he was proud. Visiting day, when I knew my mother didn’t care to watch. My mother, who hadn’t even denied her relationship with Uncle Ed.

“Kill her, Robin!” Rory cried.

Focus. Concentrate. Don’t let her win.

“Ready?” Robin shouted across the net on her first service game when she led one game to love. “’Cause you’re about to see things your father never taught you.”

Hit the ball, Amy. Smack it hard.
I made a good return. Erin cheered me on with a “Great hit!”

“Great hit!” a male voice echoed. Oh my God. Andy had come to watch. “Clarence gave me the afternoon off,” I heard him tell Jody. “I won’t be in the way.”

Robin refused to shake my hand when I beat her, eight games to three. She stormed away with Rory and their group before I even left the court. Good thing, because Andy and my friends were waiting to congratulate me. Now I could enjoy the attention without hassle.

“Great playing,” Andy said. He kissed my cheek, even though I was a sweaty mess. “I’m sorry the summer’s almost over,” he whispered, then raced away before I could think of what to say.

“I knew you’d win,” Erin said. She hooked her arm around my waist as our group headed off to change for swim. “And you lucky duck, your boyfriend was there to see it.”

We burst into singing “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” our new favorite song.

Nothing would ruin this day for me. At least that’s what I thought.

Chapter 17

You Don’t Know Anything

R
obin met me at the clothesline. “So tell me the truth,” she said. “Your father didn’t really teach you, right? You’ve been taking tennis lessons.”

“No, I told you. I learned to play from my father.”

“Yeah, like I really believe Uncle Lou could teach you enough to beat me.”

“Well, he did.” I grabbed my bathing suit and turned toward the cabin.

“Not so fast, cuz.” Robin stepped in front of me as if guarding me in basketball. She swiped the suit from my hand. “I’m talking to you. And when I’m finished, you’ll get your faggy suit back.”

“But we have nothing to talk about. I won fair and square.”

“You call that fair and square when you don’t tell the truth? If I knew you took lessons, I would’ve played harder. I could have won, you know.”

“But you didn’t.” I kept my voice strong as girls started to gather for this final battle of the summer.

“Not so loud. We don’t need a crowd to work this out.”

“Work what out? I’m just a better player than you are.” I barely recognized this fearless Amy who spoke up now.

Robin crumpled my bathing suit. “I said I want the truth. So, really, how long have you been taking lessons?”

“Robin, for the last time, my father taught me. Why can’t you understand that?”

“’Cause your father’s a loser.”

Let my cousin say anything she wanted now about my mother. But about Dad? “Well, obviously my father’s a better teacher than your private one,” I said, “because the match is over, and look who the loser is.”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Robin yelled, no longer caring about keeping voices down. “And how dare you embarrass me on the court in front of my friends. You’re the one who should be embarrassed. You and your stupid mother and your loony brother.”

“Whaddaya doin’ out there, gals?” Patsy called from the cabin.

“How ’bout minding your own business,” Rory answered. She stood next to Robin now. “We don’t need a counselor watching us our last couple of days.”

“
You
need a counselor watching you all the time,” Patsy fired back. Laughter and applause from my group, clustered around me.

“Get your suits and change for swim,” Patsy ordered.

“Go away,” Robin told her crowd, including Rory.

“Go ahead,” I told my friends. I wasn’t looking to make this bigger than it was. Camp was almost over. The tournament was finished. The only thing left was getting home to Charlie.

Erin looked at me. “Robin’s just mad I beat her,” I explained. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Like I said,” Robin went on when everyone left, “I could have won. I should have won.”

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?”

“Because I still don’t believe you didn’t take lessons. I know your crazy family, always hiding what you don’t want people to find out. Your mother. Now you. You’re just like her, you know. Little Miss Perfect. Goody-two-shoes Amy and perfect Aunt Sonia. What a pair. You make me sick, both of you. All your little secrets. All the things we’re not allowed to talk about.”

“Robin, I swear I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, right. You are such a liar. You know what secrets I’m talking about.”

What secrets? I had to find out. Was this the conversation Robin had tried to start the first time we played tennis? I couldn’t have pushed her then, at the beginning of the summer, to tell me what she meant. I couldn’t have admitted she knew something I didn’t, something about my mother. But everything had changed now that camp was ending. It no longer mattered if I fed Robin’s power. My cousin wasn’t the enemy. Even Rory wasn’t the enemy anymore. My real enemy was my mother. And my memory of her and Uncle Ed made me the powerful one. If there were more secrets, I wanted to know them. The more secrets I gathered, the more powerful I’d be. The more ammunition I would have when I’d need it.

My mother spoke in my head.
You don’t know anything, Amy. Nothing.

“What secrets?” I finally asked Robin.

“You know damn well. Who cares if your mother was married before. And that other daughter? Why the hell does everyone have to be nice to poor Aunt Sonia because of that? ‘Think of what she’s been through,’ my father says. ‘Show some compassion, Robin.’ As if my father thinks I’m too dumb to see what’s going on. As if I don’t notice how he practically drools whenever your mother’s around.” Robin pitched my bathing suit at me. It fell at my feet, which stuck to the ground. “If my father thinks your mother’s so great,” Robin kept on, her voice softer now, “then let him have her. That’s what I say. It doesn’t matter to me what they do. And about that baby? Just give me one good reason why I should care. ’Cause I don’t feel one bit sorry for your mother. She didn’t have to leave that baby in Germany, you know. From what I hear, they all could have gotten out together. Even
my
stupid mother wouldn’t leave her baby behind.”

My knees buckled when I picked up my bathing suit. What was Robin talking about? I closed my eyes for a moment, then forced myself into the cabin.

“Why, whatever happened to you?” Patsy asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Tired from my match.” I choked on the words, each one a stone in my throat.

“Your cousin must feel mighty sorry for you to let you beat her like that,” Rory taunted, handing me a challenge I refused as I sank to my bed. My mother married to someone else? Another daughter? It was too much for Robin to make up. I tried to change for swim, but the cabin whirled around me.