Authors: Mari SanGiovanni
Several mornings I would see her truck slow, then pass by the entrance of the campground, as if she had decided at the last minute not to come. Later in the day, she would show up, but only to check on her crew or to move a piece of equipment to work in another part of the camp—whichever part I was not in, it seemed. Other mornings, my heart would lurch into my chest when I saw her truck parked in the camp, but often she would arrive just to bark a few
orders or check the work of her crew from the previous afternoon before she was pulling out of the camp again, sometimes not coming back for several days.
Today I especially hated myself. Vince had stopped by to say he was taking off for several days for a bachelor party in Vegas with some college friends. I sighed with relief and then hated myself for it. I hated that his being away from Erica made me feel stupidly hopeful, like she would somehow be mine in some small way while he wasn’t around. More evil than that, most of my relief came from knowing he would not be around to hold and touch her, if only for a few days.
I hated myself.
Lisa knew there was something wrong with me, and while she couldn’t put her finger on it, that didn’t stop her from guessing every chance she got. Was I sick of the campground? Was I secretly back with Lorn? To all of this I would say no, and offer no more. She gave me a little space, but she would still be observing me, that damned eyebrow of hers lifted in constant suspicion, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d find out. I even toyed with telling her, but I knew I couldn’t. How could I tell her I was the sibling who had broken the trust between the three of us? Our entire lives, it had always been the three of us; we’d been able to count on each other for as long as I could remember, and I now would do anything to keep up the charade that I had not breached this.
Vince’s Vegas trip was bad timing for the camp, since it came over the long Labor Day weekend, which would start with the parade and end with a bonfire to signal the official end of the camping season. Camptown Ladies and Camp Camp would stay open until the end of September, but already some of the full season campers had started to winterize their trailers and pack away their less hardy decorations. Vince was gone and when I arrived Friday morning at camp, I saw that Erica’s truck was already there, but aside from Uncle Freddie, there was no sign of her or her crew.
Lisa caught me staring at Erica’s truck, as my brain reenacted the kiss I’d had with Erica, and I started when she spoke. “Since Vince
is away, I asked Erica if she and her crew could stay for the weekend to help us run the bonfire.”
I didn’t know if my gut reaction was panic or pure joy. I could no longer tell the difference. All I knew was that I felt alive for the first time in weeks, knowing Erica would be again spending her time here. My blood beat in my veins again at last, and I may have even smiled, before it occurred to me to turn away from Lisa, who was studying my face. I pretended to search the trees for new signs of Gypsy Moth invasions.
“What the fuck is going on with you and her?” Lisa said, grabbing my arm to stop me from walking. I had to look at her then, and in that second, I knew that she knew.
“Nothing,” I said, and even if my voice hadn’t cracked, I knew I was fucked.
“Oh my God!” Lisa said, then she lowered her voice, “Is something going on with you and Erica?”
I shook my head no, but my eyes had filled and I knew that Lisa would never be convinced otherwise.
She interrogated me, “What happened between the two of you?”
“Nothing. Nothing is happening . . . now,” I said.
Lisa was stunned, and I realized then she had made a wild guess, and was reeling from the shock that she had been right. Horrified, she said, “You can’t be that stupid.”
“And cruel,” I said.
Lisa muttered to herself, “Vince obviously has no idea, since he sneaks off to see her every minute. Is this why he’s afraid to tell us he’s seeing her again?”
“He doesn’t know, he won’t know—not ever,” I said. “I stopped it from happening, it won’t ever happen.”
Lisa’s eyes bulged from her head. “Are you telling me she feels the same way about you?”
“I’m sure she doesn’t anymore,” I said. “Not after I told her I still loved Lorn. Look, Vince is happy, so whatever she thought she wanted from me, she found it again with him. She realized this wasn’t real for her.”
“But it’s real for you,” Lisa said. “You’re in love with her.”
“No.” I shook my head, but then stopped, hopeless to deny it. “I’ll get over it. I got over Lorn, I’ll get over this.”
Lisa surprised me by saying, “That was different. Lorn was wrong for you.” We stood together for a long time, letting that sink in. Then she said, “I know I don’t have to tell you this would destroy him.”
She didn’t have to tell me.
The parade on Saturday was a big hit and a welcome distraction for Lisa and me. The gay boys all dressed up, Mardi Gras style, while the lesbians opted instead to dress up their dogs and march them through the camp, following the flowing feather boas of the gay boys. Lisa, of course, led the parade. She’d bought an authentic English military uniform from the Army Navy store in Province-town (the uniform still smelled like the store) and she carried a large baton, which she raised up and down with moves less like a baton and more like a barbell, keeping everyone marching in time. There were so many lively sights to see—the gays, the colors, the children on decorated bikes, the dogs in costume—that I was able to forget myself for a while. That, plus, as usual, Erica was nowhere to be found.
Hours later, just as I began to wonder if she had possibly joined Vince in Vegas, Erica showed up with a small crew, including Uncle Freddie, to begin the difficult negotiations with Dad over the wood for the bonfire. I could see by Dad’s conflicted body language that his instincts were to throw himself onto his tower to protect it. At the same time, he knew it made no sense. Thanks to Dad’s rumor that a tumbling woodpile was the cause of Aunt Aggie’s demise, the tower had hardly been touched all season. In fact, parents made children take a wide path around it to get to the camp store. Dad was pleased he’d kept his tower relatively intact, but now he looked like he was circled by a pack of vultures. They were closing in, and this was Woody’s last stand.
Erica spotted me approaching, but she continued her campaign for the wood, talking to my father as if he was a special needs child,
a tactic that occasionally worked. “Mr. Santora, it’s a beautiful tower, but I know you could build an even better one next season,” she said.
Dad answered, “It would be fine with me, but how would Freddie feel? We dedicated the tower to his wife, my sister Aggie, and I wouldn’t dream of—”
“Torch it!” Uncle Freddie interrupted from behind him, “Aggie would have loved to see a bonfire. I would like to think if we build it right, she’ll see it from up there.”
I was not completely convinced Aunt Aggie didn’t have a long layover before heading “up there,” but I agreed with Uncle Freddie and said, “Dad, we can take off the plaque and dedicate the camp store to her memory instead. Makes sense since she spent a lot of time in the store.”
I heard Lisa whisper behind me, “She friggin’ croaked in there.”
Dad showed signs of weakening but would not give up without a fight. He said, “What if I ordered more wood for the bonfire, and left this tower intact, then we would be all set for next year.” Then he smiled as if it was all settled.
Gentle was not Erica’s natural state, but she was nothing if not savvy. She paced around the tower and Dad watched her as if she was a giant alien termite, circling his nest of helpless wood babies. Erica turned to me and said, “Even if we did use the wood from this tower, I still haven’t decided the best way to build the biggest bonfire, while still keeping it as safe as possible.”
Though she didn’t look at me, it was the first time she had talked to me in weeks, and I was thrown by it, but I recovered to help her bait Dad. I said, “Don’t look at me. You’re the Bobbi The Builder. I have no idea how to make a bonfire.”
Erica and I both saw a fire ignite in Dad’s eyes. “Airflow is the key,” Dad said. He paused to make a pompous stride forward, closer to the tower. “It’s simple enough, but you still have to do it just right, so the structure doesn’t collapse while it’s burning. If it collapses, that would create a lot of smoke, which can snuff it out entirely.” Dad studied the tower and said, “We’ll need to use a basic tee-pee construction of birch bark for the inner heart of the fire, since that’s the best wood we have here on the East Coast
for igniting. Then we’ll surround it with an overlapping square log structure. That’s the safest way to build it high, with the minimum danger of collapsing.”
It did not occur to Dad that he was surrounded by expert builders and Erica let him think he was directing the whole thing, from selecting the perfect spot for the fire to the method in which they would move the tower. Before long, Dad was tearing into that tower like he had been dying to get rid of it, shouting out instructions to Erica’s men, who had been instructed by Erica to do whatever Dad said. The crew sprang into action as if they were in boot camp.
When Dad clumsily stumbled over some wood in his haste to scout out the best location for the fire, Erica turned to Uncle Freddie and said, “I’m counting on you to be second in command on this project. And by second, I really mean first.”
Uncle Freddie laughed his wheezy laugh. “You got it, boss.” And with that, he trailed after Dad, directing him away from the trees to suggest the more open field. Dad put his arm around Freddie and said, “You sure you’re OK with us using Aggie’s tower?” Uncle Freddie nodded and said, “You sure you’re OK?” I heard Dad laugh at him.
Lisa had hurried off to The Dove and Erica and I were left standing alone. “Well done,” I said. “Thanks for handling Dad.”
Erica wouldn’t look at me, but she gave a small smile and said, “I’ve worked with men long enough to know when you want them to do something, best to make them think it’s their idea,” she said. We both fell silent then, and she finally looked at me as my stomach flipped over and over under her stare. Good Lord. Nobody should be that beautiful.
I started walking as I said, “So, Vince is off to Vegas for a bachelor party.” Erica followed at my side. “Worried?”
“Why would I be worried?” she asked.
I thought, Of course she shouldn’t be worried. What man in his right mind would think there was any woman more spectacular than her? It was likely that anyone who ever fell for her still loved her today, and always would. She had no worries about that. I was the one with the worries.
I blurted out, “Lisa knows something happened between us.”
Erica stopped walking, but she didn’t look at me. She stared straight ahead and said, “You told her it was over.”
“Yes,” I said, with the ridiculous hope she would fight me on this. How could it be over? How could she start over so soon after that last kiss? It was a kiss that haunted me, and I was convinced it always would. This is how I wanted it to go, I reminded myself. This is how it had to go.
She turned toward her truck and called over her shoulder, “I have some things to do off site, but I’ll be back late afternoon to check the crew.”
When she walked away, I felt a hard lump settle in my throat as I often did these days. Clearly, she was using any excuse to be away from camp to avoid being around me. When Erica turned back to look at me as she was driving off, I realized I had been frozen there, staring after her truck. Lisa was beside me again, and, feeling caught, I stupidly waved to Erica’s truck. For a moment, I thought Erica saw me in her rearview mirror and that she had waved back, but I realized instead that she was wiping her hands across both of her cheeks. Had I made her cry again? My stomach turned.
Lisa grabbed my waving hand and pulled it down to my side. She was not angry, and instead pity filled her eyes. She held on to my wrist and said, “We now officially have cable in the store. Come see.”