Last Summer

They are racing down the hill, hair flying, brambles scratching their bare legs, breathing hard, searching for the green ball that has escaped into the salal bushes at the bottom of the hill. “You’ll never be able to whack it back up” Simon calls over when Hilary finally locates the ball tucked behind a rock. Hilary shakes her head and looks up at Eli who has scampered deftly back up the hill. “Simon’s ball is right here” he calls down indicating a spot near his right leg. “Whack him out.” Simon scowls. “No fair, why me?” he mutters. Hilary swings her mallet at his ankles but slowly so he can jump out of the way. “Alright” she calls up to Eli, “watch out.” She swings hard, almost losing her balance on the uneven ground, and sends the green ball rocketing up the hill, hopping and skipping along the exposed roots and brambles and careening off rocks. The ball makes it the whole way up the hill, coming to a stop a few feet past Eli. “Not bad” he calls down. “You’re in a good spot for your next turn.” Hilary and Simon race back up the hill to inspect their positions. Simon makes it first. Panting and red, he sticks out his tongue. “Are you guys almost done?” Isabelle asks from the tree where she is perched half watching the game. “I’m bored.” “Well you should have played with us” Simon says grumpily, and then, half under his breath so only Hilary can hear, “Why does she have to do everything with us?” “She’s your sister,” Hilary replies with a shrug. She is actually enjoying having Isabelle, a female ally, around. It is already the sixth year of this camping trip which has become an annual tradition but it is the first year Hilary has felt that she is not just one of the guys.
It has only been five days but already the four of them have been infected by the wildness of the land. Their hair is snarled and unkempt, their skins brown from the sun and dirt and caked in a layer of salt from the sea and their own sweat. Their feet and hands have grown calloused from climbing the barnacle encrusted rocks. Watches have been discarded, time marked only by the growl of bellies and the position of the sun, Most of the pre-packaged food has been eaten in a fit of hunger after a long swim or hike and so they have started collecting berries and catching fish to supplement the weak supply of goods found in the cooler and storage bin. In the past this layer of wilderness had felt safe, a barrier against the rules of the city, no one telling them when to brush their teeth or go to bed, but now there was an underlying animalness to the freedom that made Hilary vaguely uneasy.
“What’s taking so long?” Eli asked raising his arms in mock exasperation. Hilary glimpsed the pale white of his belly as his shirt rode up. The line of his hips bones descending sharply into his shorts made her feel sick to her stomach. He had not yet filled out yet but he was a full foot taller than last summer. All of his limbs were too long and swung exaggeratedly from his core. Nothing seemed to fit right.
Simon took a wild swing at his ball and it hurtled through the hoop knocking into Eli’s. “Take that” he huffed and raced over to where Eli stood. Simon had not had a growth spurt yet, or at least not a vertical one, and he appeared squat and overly solid next to Eli’s gangly frame. Still, there was definitely something older about him, an odour of hunger Hilary had not sensed last summer.
“Come on, hurry it up,” Isabelle called down from her tree as she began pitching twigs at the players’ heads. “I’m hungry,” she finished. “You are seriously annoying” Simon yelled back hurling a pebble at her. It bounced off her arm and she screeched as if she’s been shot. “Oh, knock it off faker” Simon hissed. The game was only halfway through but Isabelle’s screams were too disconcerting to be ignored. Always the peacemaker, Eli spoke up. “Yeah, I’m hungry too. Let’s see what’s left back at the site.” Isabelle immediately fell silent, scampered down the tree and with a grin began skipping back along the path. Hilary shrugged and followed suit, Eli close behind. Simon pouted for a moment but when his stomach let out a loud gurgle he sighed and joined the group as they went off in search of food.
Back at the site, Henry, then honorary adult in charge, was nowhere to be found, but that was fairly normal. His main job was to assuage the fears of the other absent parents but mostly he left the kids to their own devices, assuming animal instinct would keep them alive and safe. When the camping tradition had started, all the parents had come to the island, looking forward to re-uniting with the other families that lived all over the province. But, as the years went by, the ties became weaker, jobs became harder to leave and a week without running water became less and less appealing until finally Henry, who had summers off and didn’t use running water much even in the city, was the only adult left. He loved his time away from the city as much as his charges did but in reality, his presence probably caused more harm than good. Without him, the gang of kids might have been a bit more cautious but with Henry around they felt safe to explore the entire island with abandon. Fortunately, so far, the children had suffered little more than scraped knees and sunburns. One year, Simon had slipped on a rock and sliced his hand open, a cut deep enough that it should probably have had stitches, but he had survived and now bore the small white scar proudly.
After lunch, peanut butter smeared on crackers, canned mandarin slices, tuna, chocolate and salal berries, the boys decided they wanted to build a raft. Hilary feigned enthusiasm but the boys’ seriousness put her off. She felt in the way when she tried to help them bring the logs down the beach and her knots kept slipping loose, so she gave into Isabelle’s whines and the two of the perched on an overlooking rock and played a game of crazy eights. The boys worked steadfastly and within an hour they had assembled a decent raft. It was big enough for all four of them to lie on it without touching.
The boys were proud of their accomplishment and immediately called the girls down to try out the raft. “Don’t go,” Isabelle said. “It’s just a trick. They want to push us into the water.”
“I don’t think so. They probably just want to show off.”
“Well maybe to you, yeah, but not me. I’m just Simon’s bratty little sister.”
Hilary hadn’t really thought about the difference between her and Isabelle. The boys had always treated Isabelle a bit differently but only because she was Simon’s little sister and a few years younger than the rest of them. Now, Hilary sensed there was something more to the difference. She thought of Eli’s hip bones again and shook her head. “Well, I’m going down. Stay here if you want but don’t complain that you’re bored.” Isabelle frowned and threw down the cards. “Fine.”
Puffed by their success, Eli and Simon were surprisingly gallant, helping Isabelle and Hilary onto the raft. Isabelle, one arm supported by Eli, made it aboard with a graceful jump but as Hilary stepped on the craft a wave hit the side and the swell caused her to careen forward onto Simon who was holding her arm. “Oof,” he exclaimed as she knocked him over. “You’re heavy.” Hilary flushed. “Thanks,” she replied sarcastically. “Look who’s talking.” Simon turned crimson. “Whatever, I’ll grow into it” he growled as he turned away embarrassed. Hilary chose to ignore him and sat facing the other way, knees curled to her chest. “Ready?” Eli asked pushing the raft away from the rocks with a long piece of driftwood he had grabbed for just that purpose. When no one responded, he launched into a non-sensical speech. “Welcome aboard the Queen of Nanaimo. All passengers are reminded to keep their hands and legs inside the craft at all times. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a game of island croquet.” Hilary and Simon both burst out laughing and turned to face each other again. For a few moments, the only sounds were the waves lapping against the side of the raft and the occasional squawk of seagulls up above. Hilary chewed absent mindedly on the end of her hair, enjoying the gentleness of the waves. The peacefulness was interrupted by Simon clearing his throat. “So, when did you start wearing a bra?” he asked. “You’re so gross” Isabelle screeched. “Why are you asking her that?”
“I dunno. I’m curious.”
Hilary looked down at her chest. “Is it that obvious?” She hadn’t thought anybody would be able to tell. She didn’t really need it. She was just wearing it to stop the girls in her class from teasing her.
“No, not at all. I just saw it in your bag this morning.”
“Why were you looking in my bag?”
“I wasn’t. It was open. I could see stuff.”
“Well it’s none of your business. What, do you want to know about my period too?”
“Gross. No way.”
Eli started dangled his legs over the edge of the raft and started kicking feverishly, drenching them all in sea water and officially ending the conversation.
They spent almost two hours on the raft, docking only briefly so Hilary could squat behind a rock. “Just pee off the raft like I did” Simon suggested. “We’ll all turn around so no one can see.” Hilary and Isabelle shook their heads. “Simon, it’s not quite the same for girls,” Hilary commented. “We’ll dock,” Eli said firmly. By the time they got back to the camp site, they were all sunburned and dehydrated. The air was cooling off and the hairs on Hilary’s arms and legs stood straight on end. Fortunately, Henry was back from his expedition and had started a fire.
Soon they were all bundled up and toasting marshmallows. “I’m glad you came back when you did,” Henry said. “I was almost starting to get worried. The tide can be unpredictable. I could see a little dot way out there and I thought it was you guys but I wasn’t sure. Oh well. I guess it all ended fine.” The group nodded but the mood became somber. None of them had considered the potential danger of the ocean trip. Henry seemed to sense the shift and tried to lighten the mood with a terrible rendition of the cat came back but the smoke from the fire was especially thick and no amount of “white rabbits” seemed to drive it away. After a bad coughing fit, Isabelle announced that she was going to read in the tent. “Yeah, this blows,” Simon seconded. “Eli, let’s go collect some firewood.” “It can wait.” Eli answered. “It’s pretty dark.”
“That’s why God invented flashlights. How about you Hilary? You coming?”
Hilary shook her head.
“Fine, you suck.”
“Watch out for bears,” Henry called as Simon lumbered into the darkness. They heard a distinctive pfff of annoyance. They all knew there were no bears on the island.

Henry, Eli and Hilary sat around the fire for a few more minutes, ducking and weaving to avoid the smoke. Without warning, Henry leapt up. “Oh man” he groaned, sounding ill, “nature calls,” and with that he dashed into the woods without even pausing to flick on his flashlight. Eli and Hilary chuckled but their laughter soon turned to coughing. “Come here” Eli suggested, patting the log next to him. “The smoke’s not as bad on this side of the fire.” Hilary crossed over and sat on the log next to Eli. Their hands were almost touching. The light from the fire was just faint enough that Hilary felt safe stealing glances at Eli out of the corner of her eye. Again, her stomach felt strange, like she was in an elevator that had taken a sudden drop. Despite the lack of smoke, breathing seemed challenging. Light and air had been swallowed by the blanket of the sky and the crackle of the fire.
An ember leapt out of the fire and landed on Hilary’s leg. She jerked instinctively and her leg struck Eli’s. He didn’t move away and their legs stayed touching. She felt the roughness of his jeans against her bare leg. His fingers crawled towards her on the log. She thought she might throw up. Their fingers touched momentarily, just the pinkies, just the very outside of the tips. The fire was so hot she thought her face might melt off but her back was a sheet of goose bumps. She shivered. Eli moved closer. She wanted to turn and look at him but her body refused. She could feel his eyes. Just when the moment had stretched so long it felt like it might snap, there was a crashing sound in the trees and Henry appeared, dashing through the clearing like a maniac. “Holy shit” he cried, “Literally. My crap is blue. Turned on the flashlight to bury the sucker and hello steaming blue turd. Must be all the salal.” Hilary coughed. Eli scooted away from her. “Oh sorry,” Henry panted sitting down. “Too graphic? I just had to share.” Then, there were some curses from the woods and Simon appeared with an armful of logs. “Thanks so much for helping guys” he said, setting down the bundle safely away from the leaping embers. “What’s all this about salal berry poo? That’s so sick.” “I’m trying to sleep here” Isabelle yelled from inside the tent. “Can you guys stop yelling about shit?” “Yeah, I think I’m going to go t sleep too,” Eli muttered, standing up from the log and sauntering over to the tent. Hilary looked at Henry and Simon and decided that sleep was the best option. The fire was dying down a smoky death. “Me three” she said and ran after Eli. “Lame” she heard Simon mutter over the unzipping of the tent flap.
Inside the tent, Isabelle had already set up the mattresses and unrolled the sleeping bags. Eli’s was on the far side while Hilary’s was curled right under the entrance, next to Isabelle and then Simon. Without looking at Hilary, Eli hopped over to his space and began flattening the lumps in his foam pad. “Good night” Hilary whispered across the space. “Shhh” Isabelle hissed. Eli looked up from his bedding and flashed Hilary a smile and a wave that she just barely caught in the grey blue light of the tent. Hilary smiled into her sleeping bag as she awkwardly changed into her pajamas in its cocoon. She fell asleep to the sounds of communal breathing and the distant rumble of Simon and Henry’s shit talk.
A while later, Hilary woke briefly when Simon unzipped the tent flap, letting in a blast of cold air. She groaned and turned as he clumsily stepped in her foot space. “Sorry, he mumbled, leaning right over her to steady himself on her shoulder. She smelled his sticky breath and felt it’s warmth on her neck. She pretended to be deep asleep. “Move over,” he said to Isabelle, trying to roll her over so he could squeeze into the space between the two girls. Even in her sleep, Isabelle’s responses were quick and vicious and she kicked Simon forcefully in the shins with both of her sleeping bag encased feet. Simon groaned, rubbed his shins and slunk over to where his sleeping stuff had already been laid out. Hilary watched him through the fringe of her eyelashes. It was almost pitch black in the tent now but she knew he was looking at her as he hunkered down in his spot. She turned around and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, now glad that Isabelle had pre-arranged the sleeping places.
When Hilary woke in the morning, the tent smelled of old farts, stale breath and un-showered bodies. Thank goodness Henry chose to sleep in the camper. Everyone was still asleep, or at least faking it convincingly, so after a quick stretch, Hilary dragged her bag outside so she could rummage for something dry and relatively clean to put on. It was chilly. The sun hadn’t yet hit their little clearing but from the clearness of the sky it looked like would be a beautiful day. So, Hilary settled on typical island attire, cut offs with long wool socks that could be stripped off when the sun finally provided some heat. Hilary debated scrounging up some breakfast but decided she would take advantage of the relative solitude and explore one of the rocky bays without the distraction of loud voices and dares. She cut through the grass and down to the secluded bay on the right. They didn’t usually swim here as the rocks were very slippery and the waves frequently violent but this early in the morning the tide was still far out, exposing a sandy area with shallow water just now being warmed in the sun.
Hilary managed to make it down the rock face backwards, only slightly anxious about how she would make it back up. At the bottom, she pulled off her sandals and socks and let the sand squish between her toes. The sun began to fill the bay and soon it was almost hot. Hilary found a shallow pool and sat with her feet in it admiring the aquatic life. She prodded a starfish and marveled at its tenacity. How many other animals could grow another limb? Hilary found a flat rock and lay back enjoying the heat, held captive by the U of the rock face. Hilary peeled off her sweater and let the rays hit her shoulders. Soon she was sweating. Judging by the position of the sun, it was still early. She could probably sneak in a swim before the others appeared. She scanned the rocks behind her for movement but only the trees wavered slightly in the breeze. She pulled off the rest of her layers, enjoying the feeling of air on every inch of her skin. In the past, they had all swam naked on the island but slowly it had become uncomfortable and a few years back they had reached an unspoken agreement to always remained clothed. In accepting the safety of a swimsuit, Hilary had forgotten the sheer pleasure of melting into the sea without any protective barrier. She paddled out to deeper water and let herself float on her back enjoying the swell of the waves as she watched the blue of the sky. She flipped on her belly, plunging under the water to summersault. She held her ankles tightly together pretending to be a mermaid. She grabbed handfuls of smooth pebbles from the ocean’s floor, entranced by these naturally polished jewels. She grabbed a passing strand of kelp and whipped it around her head pretending it was a lasso. Finally, tired and cold, she headed back to the shallows. As she took her first step on dry pebbles, a shadow in the rocks above her caught her eye. It almost looked like a figure of a person crouched on a rock. She looked closer but the shadow remained still and shadowy. She pulled her clothes back on without bothering to air dry. When she looked up again, the shadow was gone.
Back at the camp, Eli was just opening a can of beans. “Want some?” he asked, pouring the sloppy mixture into a blackened skillet. Hilary nodded. “I’m starving.” “Must be all the swimming” Simon said grinning. Hilary frowned and rang out her dripping hair. “You’d make a great mermaid,” he continued. Hilary’s stomach clenched, gurgling salt water. “Hey, there are still some graham crackers” Isabelle yelled enthusiastically, popping up from behind the food box where she had been foraging.
By the time the eclectic breakfast had been eaten, the sun was beating with an intensity that suggested that anything requiring more than minimal exertion would be out of the question. They pulled out some ratty floatation devices and headed down to the water’s edge. Eli inflated everyone’s raft using the musty foot pump. When he finished, he was sweating and the first raft was already beginning to deflate. “This is lame” Simon grumbled nudging the squishy raft with his foot. “Do you have a better suggestion?” Eli asked a bit gruffly. Simon was silent. They waded into the shallows and plopped on to the rafts. Hilary’s was grey and had a clear section in the middle so, in theory, you could lie on your stomach and watch the fish go by, but the condensation of countless breaths had fogged the window. She flipped on here back and slid down so she could dangle her feet in the water. “Do you think we’ll still come here when we’re older?” she asked. “Like how much older?” Eli wanted to know. “Oh, I don’t know, like teenagers or adults” Hilary said, forgetting that Eli was in fact already officially a teenager. “I sure won’t” Simon answered. Hilary wasn’t sure what had prompted her to ask the question and now she regretted it as everyone grew silent contemplating their future selves. She didn’t want adults to ruin the island.
Soon enough it was time to eat again, one of the few indications that time was indeed still passing. They decided to build a fire and roast some of the limp veggie dogs that floated in the pool of melted ice at the bottom of the cooler. The pile of firewood was still high thanks to Simon’s efforts the night before but as soon as Simon had coaxed a small flame from the kindling and crumpled newspaper Eli declared that he was off to gather more wood. “There’s plenty here” Simon complained, not wanting to be left behind to tend the fire. “Better to stock up for tomorrow” Eli replied. Hilary sensed he wasn’t being entirely honest and took the opportunity to follow him. They cut through the bushes in silence broken only by the slap of branches on legs. When they reached the deep woods, the air was heavy with all the words they hadn’t let out. At the same time, they both started to speak. They laughed. “You first,” Eli said and bent to collect some branches. “Oh, it was just silly,” Hilary said, unable to find the words she really wanted. “Me too” Eli said. “Oh, I was just going to ask how you’re liking school this year, or were liking it I guess, I mean before summer started.” Hilary stammered. How did you ask someone if they wanted to kiss you? She watched his arms, busy in their task, still not completely brown but much darker than the sickly phantom blue white he usually appeared. They were thin, the hands long and almost skeletal but still appealingly functional. What would it be line to interlace fingers? “Oh…school is…was…pretty terrible actually. High school, it’s more about fitting in than really learning. How about you?” Eli answered. Hilary nodded in agreement. “Mostly the same. Yeah, fitting in.” They laughed again, glad to find someone else who didn’t fit in but sad to learn the other wasn’t any happier. Maybe I should just kiss him, Hilary thought. But what if I’m wrong? What if I ruin an almost perfect summer? She watched him again. He wasn’t like the movie stars whose pictures she tore out of magazines, no pouty lips, teeth that were slightly crowded, a long thin nose, but he was so firmly present. She knew it was stupid, but she thought that if he kissed her she would be at once floating free and solidly grounded.
Eli’s arms were full. “Well I guess that’s enough” he said reluctantly. They walked back through the woods and then bushes as silently as they had come, both feeling the weight of everything they had not had the courage to say or do. They were subdued the rest of the evening. Even Simon noticed. “What, lover’s quarrel?” he spat. Hilary felt herself blush and covered her discomfort by shoving another bite of burnt hotdog in her mouth. Swallowing was hard and she resolved to make a move before she left the island
That night, Hilary could not fall asleep. Her mind was too full of thoughts of Eli. She wondered if his lips were sooth or chapped from the sun. Did he taste of anything familiar, or his own unique flavour? Was he wondering the same thing? Tomorrow, before they packed away the bags and loaded themselves into the camper, she would find out. She had to. Even if she was disappointed at least she would know. That was better, right? At some point she must have fallen asleep because she woke to a presence leaning right over her. At first, in her bleary state, she thought it was Eli but as she slid into consciousness she saw that the shape was all wrong, too solid, the smell too sticky. And then the figure was closer. She saw that it was Simon. His weight was on her arms pinning her and then his tongue was in her mouth probing. Sleep and limbs held her captive. Her mind echoed with the sound of nos she couldn’t say over the alien tongue. He knelt on her right arm, pinning it so he could roll down the sleeping bag and reach for her almost non-existent breast. She bucked. He slipped and kicked Isabelle. Isabelle’s eyes flew open startled. “What the hell?” she gasped. Eli’s head popped up. He blinked and surveyed the scene. Simon straddling Hilary, her shirt up on the right side. Simon crawled off her as if nothing had happened. Hilary hoped that the darkness of the tent had been enough to obscure the events. She wanted to explain, to cry out and denounce Simon but she knew it didn’t really matter; everything was broken. Even in the dark she saw Eli’s disappointment and Isabelle’s disgust. She didn’t care to sense what Simon was feeling.
The next morning, they packed their bags in silence. Henry imagined they were all facing the end of vacation blues. “Don’t worry. We’ll do it again next year.” Henry tried to reassure them but as oblivious as he was, even he knew this was a lie.