Highly Illogical Behavior (13 page)

S
ummer camp had been so much fun when Lisa was younger. She'd get to meet interesting girls from faraway places like Phoenix or Salt Lake City and their cabins would come up with secret little languages and songs about the wilderness. But as she grew older, and reached that pivotal age where being a counselor was her only choice, Lisa found herself constantly nostalgic for the way it once was.

Now, as a junior counselor, she was in charge of her own cabin, complete with ten girls and one senior counselor. That senior counselor was Janis. And she had a hard time forgetting that
this
camp, one of the three she counseled at every summer, wasn't a Christian one like the other two.

“Let us pray,” she said on the third night just before lights-out.

“Keep it secular,” Lisa whispered from the bunk beneath her.

“I mean . . . sweet dreams, campers.”

The first week of camp went by pretty quietly, with only
one canoe mishap and no reports of stomach bugs from the other bunks. And even though she wondered how Clark and Solomon were doing without her, Lisa was having fun being around some other girls for a change. She hadn't heard the words
Star Trek
in seven days and it felt amazing.

The only thing that was a little off was Janis. Lisa knew it wouldn't be easy, but she'd thought setting aside her very important time with Solomon to come to camp last minute would put the things back to normal between them. She was wrong. Janis was still pouting about it, constantly making little jokes about Lisa disappearing or being flaky. She kept her mouth shut, not wanting to argue in front of the young campers, but now Lisa was starting to get pissed. Still, though, she knew the last week of camp would be much easier if she tried to keep the peace—at least for as long as Janis would let her.

“Listen,” Lisa said, sitting down across from Janis in the mess hall, “we've got to talk to Chloe. If she doesn't learn to steer a canoe, she'll have to take the class all over again next summer.”

“Lisa, just do it for her. We're not training her for the Olympics.”

“I can't do that and you know it. Where's your Camp Elizabeth pride?”

“Sorry. But, the girl's hopeless. She sunk three canoes and a kayak last summer.”

“Oh, I remember that.”

“So, are you having a good time? Glad you came?” Janis asked blandly.

“Maybe,” Lisa said.

“It was the least you could do, really.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Janis said. “Plus, I'm trying to save you from that crazy kid. I'm sure you needed a break.”

“He's not crazy,” she said. “And I do
not
need you to save me from anything.”

“You know, maybe I'm too normal to be your friend. Not enough problems for you to fix, Lisa?”

“You've got plenty of problems, believe me.”

Janis was completely caught off guard that Lisa had finally stood up for herself. She leaned closer, putting her palms on the table, and with that mean look in her eyes, the one she used to get before she found Jesus, Janis smiled a little before she began to speak.

“Don't take out all your anger on me. I can't help it if your boyfriend's in love with that crazy kid. I tried to warn you.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“You act so smart, Lisa. You're always talking about how you want to help people and become this amazing psychiatrist someday, but you can't even see what's going on right in front of you. Where do you think Clark is right now?”

“He's with his friend.
Our
friend. Don't make stuff up just because you're jealous.”

“All right. I'm out,” Janis said loudly, throwing her hands up.

“You're
out
?”

“That's right. Have fun wrangling Cabin Twelve all by yourself.”

Janis stormed off and Lisa was left standing outside the mess hall with a group of young campers staring right at her. She flashed them a forced smile and walked back inside to get some lunch. She kept that same smile on her face all day, taking on the role of two counselors until the camp leaders could shuffle someone around to help her. Janis had stormed right to the head counselor's office and demanded she be moved to another cabin. Lisa was sure Janis had told some lie about her to make it easier. But, what good would it do to go tell them the truth? At least now she wouldn't have to be reminded of how bad a friend she was every fifteen minutes for the rest of camp.

Later that evening, as the campers were eating dinner and watching the camp improv group, two other counselors, Tara and Lydia, sat down beside Lisa with a hungry look in their eyes like they always got when gossip was floating around camp.

“I heard she called you a bitch. Is that what happened?” Tara whispered.

“No, I told you. She called her boyfriend gay,” Lydia added.

“She did? Why would she do that?” Tara asked.

“Will you two shut up?” Lisa said, her whisper a little louder than theirs. “It's not a big deal. She's just jealous.”

“I heard your boyfriend's been spending all his time with a gay guy,” Lydia said. “Is that true?”

“They're like best friends,” Lisa defended. “He's my friend, too. There's nothing wrong with it.”

“Do they hang out without you?” Tara asked.

“Of course.”

Then Tara and Lydia quickly shot each other a look and turned back to her with sad eyes.

“Are you okay?” Lydia asked.

“Damn it. Will you two listen to me? My friend Sol is gay. My boyfriend Clark isn't. I know, because he's my boyfriend. So drop it and please
stop
listening to Janis.”

“Just let me ask you this,” Tara said. “Do you have sex?”

“
That
would be none of your business.”

“Just answer the question,” Lydia ordered.

“We've come close a few times.”

“Oh, no,” Tara gasped, shaking her head.

“You poor thing,” Lydia added.

Lisa gave them a blank stare and then fixed her eyes on the performance stage, pretending they weren't beside her. Janis had gotten to them first—probably to everyone first—so now Lisa was the girl at Camp Elizabeth with the gay boyfriend, no matter how much she denied it. Gossip works that way. It makes fools out of everyone but the source. Lisa was relieved, though, that Janis hadn't told them about the essay. Maybe that meant she hadn't completely lost her oldest friend for good.

That night, she lay awake for a while after lights-out, following a firefly that had found its way into the cabin as it floated and hovered above her. She wondered if Clark was at Solomon's. She couldn't help picturing them together.
Janis and the other counselors had somehow etched it into her brain like a drunken tattoo—something that should've never been there, but was impossible to erase. And no matter how many times she convinced herself that it couldn't be true, she still kept coming back around to the possibility that it could.

T
he day before they finally put water in the pool, Solomon called Lisa hyperventilating. Since she'd gotten home from camp the night before, he was hoping she'd come over and convince him that going into the backyard wouldn't make the world end. And as he listened to her calm voice reassuring him, he felt a pang of guilt for kind of liking it. Maybe this was just his version of getting better, of accepting that sometimes he needed help. He'd missed her, especially the way she took charge of things. If he couldn't be in control, he knew she could, and without her, things were starting to get weird.

“You hear about the van?” Solomon asked a while after he'd calmed down. “That thing is part of my home now.”

“Your dad can't fix it?”

“I know my dad,” he said. “And the look on his face when he's out there taking that motor apart tells me he doesn't have a clue what he's doing.”

“That's hilarious,” Lisa said.

“It is, isn't it?”

“It doesn't matter that much to Clark,” she said. “I think he just wanted another reason to hang out with you.”

“You think so? Because I'm in such high demand socially, right?”

“What did you do while I was gone? Besides taking a van apart.”

“Same ole same ole,” he said. “TV, games, watched a movie or two.”

“Clark said you started
Lost
again.”

“Yeah. We're on Season Two. I think it's better the second time.”

“I wish you guys had waited for me.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I can jump in, I've got a good memory anyway.”

“Sweet. So, tell me I can do this again.”

“You
can
do it, Sol. You've been waiting months for this pool and all you have to do now is remember how that water will feel as you're gliding through it.”

“Gliding?”

“I'm trying to be inspirational,” she said.

“Sorry.”

“Remember that it's no different from being inside. Nothing can happen out there that can't happen in your house.”

“I could drown.”

“It
has
been a while since you've gone swimming, I guess.”

“A
long
while.”

“Do you want us there? We should be there, right?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Part of me thinks it would help, but another part of me doesn't want a bigger audience to disappoint.”

“It's not like that,” she said.

“It is, though. It is. And you guys would have the right to be disappointed. I want to just say
yes, I can go outside and get in that pool
, but I can't yet. I won't know until tomorrow.”

“I think you'll be fine,” she said. “I really do.”

“Okay. Here's an idea. I want you guys there, but you have to promise to swim. Even if I can't. Maybe that'll distract my parents from the heartache.”

“Promise,” she said. “I'll talk to Clark.”

“Awesome.”

“No matter what, you'll finally get to see those abs in person. They're majestic.”

“Can I tell you a secret? I've been doing crunches for weeks so I won't be too embarrassed.”

“That's hilarious. How's that working for you?”

“I don't have the muscle,” he said. “He really is from Krypton, isn't he?”

“Superman would never drive that van,” she said. “Hey, does he ever talk about me?”

“Are you kidding? When is he
not
talking about you?”

“Be serious,” she said. “I want to know if he talks about me. Good or bad. Just tell me.”

“Lisa, he talks about you all the time. Always good. What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Just missing the gang, I guess. You down for some company?”

“You know the answer to that,” he said. “We also have a Munchkin tournament to finish.”

“Yes, we do. Clark's at work, so we'll be over around five, okay?”

That afternoon, as soon as they pulled into the driveway and got out of Lisa's car, Solomon swung open the front door wearing a plastic Viking helmet and holding up a toy sword.

“Tonight, we dine in hell!” he yelled as they walked up.

“We must have the wrong house,” Lisa said.

“Prepare to be slaughtered!” Clark yelled, running past her and into the doorway, where he grabbed the sword and pointed it toward her.

“Good luck,” she said. “I brought my A game today, boys. It's going to be rough.”

“She's got to go down,” Clark said as she strutted by him.

Halfway into the first game, neither of them had a snowball's chance in hell of beating her. Three games later, she was still undefeated. When the tournament was finally over, Solomon threw his cards down in fake anger and Clark fell to the floor like she'd stabbed him in the heart.

“Who wants a rematch?” Lisa said maniacally.

“I need a break,” Solomon said. “I thought I really missed you until this bloodbath.”

“What are they teaching you at summer camp?” Clark asked.

“The only thing I learned is that Janis is sort of a bitch and Sloppy Joes are still disgusting.”

“I can't believe you won't let me meet her,” Solomon said. “She sounds so . . . fun.”

“I think she hates me,” Clark added.

“Who could hate you?” Solomon asked.

“I know, right?” Clark stood up and walked over to the sliding glass door. He looked out at the backyard and then turned toward Solomon.

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Don't know.”

Solomon got up and walked over to stand beside him. He gazed out at the empty pool, half filled with moonlight and half with darkness. And the only thing he could think about was how useless it was without water—just a weird-shaped concrete hole in the backyard.

“Maybe you should go out there tonight,” Lisa said.

“What? Why?”

“Your parents aren't home. So
that
pressure's off. Maybe we all just walk right outside like it's nothing.”

“Like it's nothing?” Solomon asked. “It's not nothing.”

“I know,” she said. “But we can make it nothing, Sol. Let's make it nothing.”

She walked over and reached for his hand. For a second, he thought about giving it to her, about letting her drag him out there and getting it over with.
Pull it like a Band-Aid
, his grandma would say. But he couldn't.

“Not tonight, Lisa.”

“Tomorrow then,” Clark said, quickly patting
Solomon's right shoulder with one hand. “It's going to be great, buddy.”

•   •   •

Solomon couldn't sleep that night. He wished it were like Christmas when he was a kid—that nervous excitement keeping him up in anticipation of a living room full of new toys and gadgets. But it was more like an aching pit in his stomach, a deep, low pain that pulsated all night and constantly reminded him of what the next day would bring.

At three in the morning, he tiptoed down the hallway in just a pair of pajama pants. He stepped into the living room, staring at the sliding glass door like he was staring deep into the void of space, a black hole leading into a world that had been so far out of his reach for so long. He moved closer, close enough to grip the door handle. Close enough to see his breath on the glass. And then he slid it open.

He didn't move. But the cool early morning breeze swirled around in his face, lifting patches of his shaggy hair, and making him shiver. He wasn't going to cry or anything. And he didn't feel anxious or especially loopy, either. He was so close to the outside, but he was still standing, and that helped his breathing even out a bit. His heartbeat was strong, but not frantic like all the other times he'd secretly tried to go out there. All those times he'd never told anyone about. Now it was different, though. He was ready. And the pain in his stomach was starting to go away. So he just went for it.

He stepped outside. And then he kept going, until he was walking down the pool steps and into the deep end. When he got there, where the drain sat brand-new and ready, he lay down on the faux-pebble surface and looked up at the stars.

And that's where they found him sleeping the next morning.