The Gulf Between Us

For David

With love and appreciation for Tracy's able assistance

Prologue:

Clay Olson and his family are leaving Tulsa. At fourteen it's the worst thing to happen to him. Life in Tulsa is good. His friends live on his block. They don't do anything that exciting, but they're kids. There job is to have fun together.

The family is uprooted and moves over a thousand miles. They'll live near a tiny town in a house on the Gulf of Mexico. The closest house is nearly a mile away. There's only one. There are no kids except for the ones living at his house.

While testing the boundaries of his new world, he sees Ivan Aleksa. Clay decides this handsome, graceful, athletic boy is going to be his friend.

Too scared of rejection, he hesitates. Ivan disappears. Clay's first opportunity to make a new friend, and he doesn't talk to him, but he doesn't forget him. He has no idea how he'll find this regal boy again.

The distance between them proves not to be so great, but the question remains, why would a popular talented boy like Ivan want to be friends with the very ordinary Clay?

Chapter 1

Tulsa Time

Moving to a new place, even a quaint seaside town in Florida, was a disaster for me at fourteen. When we drove away from the only house I'd known, I was sure it was the end of the world. All that I'd known left my life as we turned onto Hayfield Trace on our way out of Tulsa.

I'd finished 8th grade in the house they brought me home to after I was born. I had lifelong friends. Leaving everything behind overwhelmed me. No one asked me how I felt about it. Everyone in my family left everything behind.

At fourteen I was silly enough to believe if I was miserable enough, and let everyone know it, it might change my father's mind. I was plenty miserable. It didn't change anything. No one was happy to be moving away from our home.

Change came hard that year. I wasn't sure I would survive it. I didn't know what I'd do or how I'd adjust to a place I knew nothing about. I was scared for the first time in my life. I was scared and lonely as the car with six kids and my parents found its way to the open road.

No one had anything to say. I couldn't remember the car ever being that quiet before when all of us were in it. What I thought of as hard times was misery for my father. His job of twenty years went away. There were no prospects. He'd been trained to do his job when the company opened its doors. He was twenty-five and newly married to my mother. She was pregnant. Their future was set.

They bought a house and had six kids, Coleen being first. She'd just turned nineteen. John-Henry, Brian, and Teddy came one a year for the next three years. My parents decided four was enough. They didn't call me their little accident, but I was born two years after Teddy. If I was unexpected, Lucy, now nine, came out of the blue. By far the most formidable child, we were all happy about Lucy.

The prospects of getting a new job in Tulsa were bad. The town had run out of gas, and my father's future looked bleak, until his former boss called him to tell him about a job in Florida. It didn't pay much but it came with a big house. The catch being, they needed someone to be on the job the following week. We left school a week early to arrive in time.

*****

We drove southeast, where we were told we'd find Florida. I longed for life to go back to normal, but we were on our way to a new life and no one had much to say.

*****

“Give me a soda, Clay,” Pop said. “Are there any peanuts left?”

*****

“Give me some room, Brian. Quit hogging the space,” Teddy ordered.

*****

“Mama, I need a tissue,” Lucy said.

*****

The car rolled off the plains and into rolling hills. The second day we reached the emerald green waters of the Gulf of Mexico. We'd follow the gulf through Mississippi and Alabama, and we'd come to the panhandle of Florida.

Following the gulf down the west coast of Florida, We passed Tampa, and two hours south we came to Sanibel Island. The Sanibel Island Conservancy was where my father was now employed. Our house belonged to the conservancy.

The first time I saw the green water, it fascinated me. It followed us seductively for long stretches, once we reached the Mississippi coast. Turning east on the second day, we were more than a day from where we were going. The car was cramped and beginning to smell of too many overripe boys.

The first change in landscape I noticed were trees filling the hills. It was a far cry from the Oklahoma grasslands. I didn't know there were so many trees. The water was an even bigger change. I wasn't done being miserable, but I was fascinated by all that water.

The Gulf Of Mexico had a certain allure from the first time I saw it. For a boy whose only contact with large bodies of water came in the form of a mandatory Saturday night bath, I was peering across my right shoulder as the water followed us east. It would be there for the next five hundred miles.

We left the gulf for short periods and then there it was again. First the trees would begin to thin, and then I'd see the white sand and the green water. On route 98 we stayed close to the gulf, even when we couldn't see it. It came and went, but it was never far away. I'd live next to the gulf for the rest of my childhood. At first I didn't think we'd ever get clear of it. Then I hated to be far away from it.

I noticed different shades of green. There was some blue, and other deeper beautiful colors between blue and green. It was spectacular for a kid who lived in Tulsa all his life. The colors in Tulsa ranged from dark dirt to light dirt. There were not so green green shrubs, and sort of green scrub grass, and green grass.

Besides the color of the water, there was pure white sand bordering the gulf. From a distance Florida sand resembled Tulsa snow. The water sparkled and the sand was a blinding white in the midday sun. The colors amazed me.

This was going to be different than Tulsa, I thought, as we made one of our dining stops. We pulled into the wayside park and pulled out the cooler with the lunch meat and sodas. There was a picnic table in each wayside park. There was one every thirty or forty miles after we reached Route 98 in Florida.

Once out of the car, I enjoyed sights and smells I didn't recognize. After finishing my single sandwich, I walked along the water's edge for the first time, while my siblings sat gorging themselves with anything eatable. We'd need to stop for more lunch meat and bread if we could afford it.

I was being seduced by one of Florida's many features. I couldn't swim a lick but I didn't fear water. It was enticing. As I looked at the horizon, I wondered what was out there in the endless sea. I'd never seen a sea before.

“Clay,” Mama called, coming to find me. “We're ready, dear. We need to get moving. There will be plenty of water where we're going.”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said, as she met me. “Isn't it beautiful, Mama.”

“It's lovely, Clay,” she said, coming up behind me and putting her arms around me. “You'll find a million things to do, hon. You'll make new friends.”

“I don't want new friends. I'll only lose them. There's no point to it. I knew them all my life, Mama.”

“Come on. We've got to go. No point in making your father angry. He's doing the best he can, Clay. We've got to help him. He lived in Tulsa all his life too. This isn't easy on any of us.”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said, and we drove on.

I'd had it good and I had to go where my family went. I didn't have to like it. I couldn't remember a day when I wasn't with my friends, until now.

*****

My father had taken a job with an environmental conservancy for Sanibel Island, right off the west coast of Florida. The almost 100 year-old house came with the job. With six kids, a mansion on a beach couldn't hurt.

Back then, I thought about Tulsa every day. Even with the water that fascinated me out our backdoor, it was the place I considered my home. A few minutes after the station wagon stopped in front of the biggest house I'd ever seen, my brothers and sisters were laying claim to the bedroom they wanted. There were eight in total, not to mention the sitting rooms on the upper floors.

While they dashed from room to room on the second floor, I found the stairs to the third floor and the first door I opened had a bed in it. I tossed my jacket and hat on the bed, marking it as my territory. I didn't care which room I slept in, but it turned out to be the best bedroom with the best view of the gulf.

It was time for bed before I discovered my room faced the water. There were double glass doors that allowed me to see the gulf from my bed. Best of all, the sun rose on the opposite side of the house, and the light of day got to my room last. The screened in porch outside my bedroom and stairs that led from the porch to the backyard would come in handy in years to come.

There had been no fussing. We all got a room to ourselves, except for Mama and Pop. They bunked together on the second floor. John-Henry and Brian would no longer fight over the limited space. I'd no longer wake up to Teddy's snoring. Coleen was a woman and needed a room of her own. Lucy was about to reach adolescence. Having a room to herself would make the transition easier.

Once I discovered the double doors, the porch, and the stairs, my disposition improved. Even at fourteen, I could see the possibilities. I didn't like it here. I'd learn to live with it. I went out on the porch, down the stairs that were at the side of the house, and no one could see or hear me coming or going.

There was no constant in my life now, only loneliness wrapped in memories. Having a beautiful beach out my backdoor was no substitute for having friends. The beach would distract me from the loss I felt. I'd seen what was around us as we drove to the house. What I hadn't seen was another house or any sign of life. I was isolated. The idea I'd find new friends was a joke. They'd have to be shipwrecked for them to get to our house.

Probably the best thing was being able to sleep as much as I liked. I was on babysitting duty, until my siblings got situated. Mama, my brothers, and Coleen, were looking for jobs. My brothers would end up working for my father, and babysitting became my job alone, once I got up to face the new day. As long as I was in the house, it didn't matter. Lucy could take care of herself but being alone where we were living wasn't a good idea.

I stayed in the yard, wandering down to the water twice the first day. Lucy and I played Parcheesi after we got bored with rummy. Lucy beat me three games out of three and accused me of throwing the games. We were usually pretty competitive. Lucy could hold her own in most games, but my heart and mind failed to take an interest in playing games.

After lunch, once I'd been relieved by Teddy, I found a river Just north of our house. It wasn't all that wide, but it was a barrier I couldn't ford. It also ran fairly fast as it came to the gulf. The other side of the river didn't look any different from my side.

Living so close to all that water and not knowing how to swim was kind of a drag. I wanted to be in the water, but I could see the river might be dangerous. The water ran fast. It swirled strangely where the river water and the gulf water met. The gulf was easy with water as placid as the water in my bathtub.

As I turned back from the river, realizing I'd seen everything north of the house, I saw the house sitting back in the trees. It was as tall as ours but half as big. The wood was gray from paint long ago weather beaten into dust and parched by the sun. I thought it was a little less than a mile to the river and our closest neighbor. Not much to see in this neck-of-the-woods.

I'd yet to notice the shells and fascinating treasures that littered the beach near the water's edge. I didn't know anything about Florida. I didn't know the gulf was filled with life and treasures that routinely washed up. It would take time for me to identify the things that were of value and those that weren't. The first day it was miles of sand bordered by even more miles of water.

It only took a few walks up the beach to recognize there was wildlife that went with the sand and water, which made it more interesting. I recognized some from text books and movies. Others were strangers to me, heavy on the strange. The beach I'd completely seen after a trip to the river, would furnish me with hours of exploration, not to mention a room full of booty I brought home.

My older brothers were able to work for my father, helping him do what needed doing. When Mama and Coleen weren't job hunting, they made frequent trips to fit the house with things that weren't provided. My mother went grocery shopping and if it was a quick trip, I stayed behind. On the first couple of trips, she needed me to be her bag boy. It took a bit of food to feed the eight of us.

As we got settled in, I had time on my hands. In Tulsa my friends and I would be hiking out toward the farms near where our suburban neighborhood was built. In the summer we were in constant motion. I was still in motion but I moved alone on those early days in Florida.

After walking as far south on the beach as I wanted to go, it appeared we were alone for as far as I could walk. There was the house next to the river, but it was empty. There had been no sign of life the first week I journeyed to the river each afternoon. I was tempted to go to look inside, but I didn't.

I'd begun to discover the shells that were all around me. There were manatees, or sea cows, seals who barked and couldn't be ignored. The dolphin kept their distance, floating, skittering, and jumping close enough to shore for me to appreciate their shows.

Big birds glided overhead. Some came with colorful plumage. The seagulls were most plentiful. They were mostly white. Pelicans stood on the logs just beyond the mouth of the river, when the seals hadn't claimed the spot. Some birds flew alone and some flew so high I could barely see them. Others came in clusters in a rainbow of color.

Most encounters with these new life forms occurred near the mouth of the river. There was a part of the beach that stuck out into the gulf, where it bordered the river. The pile of logs were a hundred yards from the mouth of the river, where most of the wildlife activity took place. When I walked to the river, if the seals were on the logs, they'd bark incessantly, wanting me to go away. I didn't.

After a time they'd go back to sunbathing and I'd sit and watch the swirling waters. A lot of shells had been washed out of or into the mouth of the river, and I could retrieve conch shells, colorful smaller shells, and even live snails by lying on my stomach and reaching into the clear water. Then I laid on my stomach, chin in hand, surveying the river for anything that looked promising.

If I didn't have chores or babysitting duty, I was on my way to the river right after breakfast. I was excited walking up the beach, not knowing what I might find today. I hardly paid attention to the house that sat a hundred feet away from the spot where I spent so much time. It had to be empty. Who would live there and not be out on that beach every chance they got?

It became easy to walk right past the house and forget it was there. It stayed in the shade of the forest until well after noon, and then the sun shined brightly on the three floors. I had to shade my eyes to see it in the afternoon. I wondered if it was haunted. That idea had me keeping my distance.

I guess the people who lived there got old and died. I only went to the river during the day, so someone could live there and worked during the day, but then the first weekend, there was no sign of life. No one came out and told me to get off their beach. I was glad they didn't. I'd found a place where I was comfortable.

I felt free to sit on my beach to watch the river push its way into the gulf. The green gulf water resisted the river's attempt to invade it. Watching two opposing forces of nature in an endless struggle fascinated me.

Only when the gulf ran high, when a storm was raging or recently raged, the gulf forced the river backward. It covered the point of sand where I hung out, and swallowing the swirling waters at the mouth of the river. Then the gulf would calm down, receding, and everything returned to normal in a couple of days.

Mostly the Gulf of Mexico was a gentle sea. I waded in it and at times I felt drawn toward the pile of logs that sat haphazard ten or fifteen feet above the surface of the water. I wanted to climb on those logs. I wanted to dive off them. There had to be one monster storm to deposit those trees there.

I used the morning low tide to get a closer look at the logs when the seals weren't there, and they weren't always there. I could let the water get up to my chest on calm days, without being scared. I got within fifty feet one morning, and fearing the return of the ferocious seals, I retreated back to my point.

It was while daydreaming and lounging on that section of beach, I made my first friend, early the second week I was in Florida. It only took a week, and I had begun to think less about the friends I missed. Then there was Millie, big eyes blinking at me from the swirling current that held her in place.

What looked like her being hopelessly caught between the river and the sea, was a spot where she could sit with little effort, as the river water washed over her. Millie was a manatee. She had human eyes and a sad look on her face. I wondered where her friends were. We were no more than three feet apart, but she showed no fear of me as she sat watching me. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her back, wondering if she'd seen me there before.

She was too big to miss. A manatee grows to be a half ton. It was difficult to tell how big she was, because much of her body was distorted by the moving water. Once she'd gotten a good look at me, she swam up the river. I was sad she left me alone again. Making contact with another creature was cool. I hoped she'd return on her way to where she might be going.

Much to my surprise, once she got to where the river came out of the forest, she stopped swimming and let the river carry her back to me, where she once again stayed suspended between the two opposing flows of water. Once more our eyes met and we stayed like that for a long time. I think she was smiling. Do manatee smile?

As my daydreaming took me off to parts unknown, Millie left and once I came back to the hear and now, I realized she was no longer there. I jumped up to go home. I'd come back the same time the next day. Maybe Millie would be there. I was excited. Millie and I couldn't talk to each other, but having her there was a comfort to me.

My timing was good. When I got home, it was lunchtime. My mother had been home and left sandwiches on the table for Lucy and me. My brothers were still working with my father. Coleen didn't tell me what she was up to, but I didn't mind. She was sure I was becoming as worthless as my other brothers.

I ate sandwiches and estimated I'd been watching Millie starting a couple of hours before. That's when I wanted to be at the river the next day. Maybe she'd come back and we'd continue our communication. I wanted to touch her to see what her skin was like. She wasn't shiny like the seals, but her skin looked thick and tough. I was curious about that.

*****

I left the house at ten the next morning, after eating. I collected some shells I decided would look good in my room. Living in Florida, I wanted items I found in Florida to fill my room. First it was conch and smaller colorful shells.

One day I found a couple of coconuts by the forest next to the faded house. That was followed with a large fan like branch of palm leaves. It smelled of salt and sand. The branch went into a corner of my room. I held the two glass doors open with the coconuts, and the conch shells went on the two night stands on opposite sides of the bed. The colored shells went on the white cloth on top of my dresser. I hadn't much but junk decorating my room in Tulsa. It's not like cow patties or tumbleweed were good decoration.

I gave up on Millie. My first friend had left for parts unknown. I knew creatures in nature don't make friends with humans. It was fun thinking we were communicating. I gave up my eleven o'clock vigil and stopped waiting for her to return. Besides, she probably didn't know what time it was.

Florida was invading my mind. Even alone, I liked how different it was from what I'd known. While I had to babysit Lucy for most of the next week, I didn't mind. We played cards, Monopoly, checkers, and we ate the snacks Mama left for us when we were stuck with each other. This was no different from Tulsa, except in Tulsa my friends came to hang out while I was babysitting duty. Remembering them made me sad again.

My second week in Florida came to an end. It was okay. I'd only been at the house and the A&P with the accompanying laundromat. I accompanied Mama to the grocery when she needed a bag boy. There was nothing there. There was nothing but trees and empty space in between there and home.

One day I found something really weird. I was told it was a starfish. It had five arms but it was calcified. It was very hard and quite dead. I was amazed by its shape. Who know such a thing lived in the sea just outside my backdoor? It went on my bookshelf. There were no books yet, but the starfish was beyond reading. I dropped sea dollars next to the starfish as I found them. They were

every bit as curious to me. I had no idea the gulf would give up such things.

I couldn't read either. There was still too much new stuff to see. I loved being outdoors. I loved to wake up and look out at the gulf. I loved the quiet of where we lived. I loved Florida and I wanted to see everything on my beach and everywhere else.

It's while waking up and being excited about getting outside, after I ate of course, to pick up where I'd left off on my point. While I lay on my stomach with my chin in my hands, I gazed into the swirling clear waters, and there was Millie, right where she'd been before. She was watching me.

Millie had her big eyes on me. She saw me before I saw her. She didn't move or act put off by me being next to her river. I reached out to touch her after a few minutes. She moved just out of reach, but no father. She didn't want to be touched, but she didn't want to leave. It was cool. We could communicate.

I found it more amazing the second time we met. I don't know if Millie was a boy or a girl manatee, but I wanted her to be a girl and so she was Millie to me, and if she was Michael, well, I'd apologize later for the oversight.

On this day I felt better than I'd felt in a long time. Millie being back meant she'd be there from time to time, and that was enough. I could find things to do when she was off doing her thing, but I liked it best with her there.

*****

I hadn't made a human friend yet. I hadn't been far. I wanted a friend where I lived, and that's about the time I began to look at the river differently, wondering what was up the river. Where did it go?

There was a possibility the river led to civilization. If there were houses or a place where people hung out, there would be kids my age, and if there were kids my age, maybe one would be my friend. I didn't need three friends like in Tulsa. That seemed selfish, especially now that I had none. One would be cool.

I couldn't swim, and even as unskilled as I was, swimming against the current wouldn't get me far. That's when I began to see the forest in a different light. If I stayed close to the river bank, I couldn't get lost, and it might lead me to houses and people.

I wasn't ready to dive in among the trees yet, but soon I'd move off the beach to head inland.

As June passed, my desire for friendship grew. I'd been alone for long enough. This place was too awesome not to be able to share it with someone. I wouldn't be picky and one friend would do.

Chapter 2

Whatever Floats Your Tube

I was smart enough to wear one of my flannel shirts and old jeans, determined to blaze a trail through the forest to civilization. Florida, already having been discovered, left me to search for a housing subdivision.

I wanted to go up the river bank, following it until I came to someone. I was sure someone would have built something next to the river to attract people and their money. It sounded logical. I'd learned most big cities were built on rivers.

While the idea was good, the river bank wasn't having any of it. The bushes and brambles created an impasse a few minutes after I dove into the brush. The third time I thrust forward, I became entangled and unable to go forward, I retreated sweaty and befuddled.

Why can't anything be easy? Why was I the guy who had to blaze the trail to the outside world?

There was no reason I shouldn't be able to walk through those woods, except it was a jungle undergrowth that must have been growing since the Jurassic period. I sat on the edge of the forest in the shade, after heat and exhaustion forced me back to the beach. I wasn't giving up, but I needed to cool down and wait for my second wind.

I spent the rest of the morning attempting to make inroads into the forest and get beyond the obstacles that covered the forest floor. By noon I was hungry, hot, and mad. I hadn't gotten more than a hundred feet beyond the beach.

I was soaked in sweat and I undressed on the point. Being clever enough to wear my cutoffs under my jeans, not realize how hot that was going to make things, but did furnish me with swimming wear when needed it most.

I used the water to undo what the heat and humidity did. In no time I was cool and I forgot about how totally unsuccessful my foray into the undergrowth went. Trying to find people through those woods was futile. I was too worn out to care. As soon as I got a burst of energy, I'd go eat.

Millie had been there or came to where I soothed my weary body. She tickled me with her whiskers and made me laugh. I held onto the beach with one hand, so I didn't float away, and rested for a few minutes. The water was perfect.

It was then I had a big idea. Actually, I didn't so much have it as Millie gave it to me. I don't know if she sensed what I was up to, but a few minutes after I got into the water beside her, she was swimming against the current and going up the river. When she got to the forest, she swam out of sight.

I looked at where she disappeared. If I was a manatee, I'd swim up the river, avoiding the jungle. Using the water would be far easier on me. There might be a way to get up the river without getting in the river the way Millie did it.

Not being able to swim meant I needed something that floated. While the riverbank impasse stymied my first incursion, the river still beckoned to me. I needed to sleep on it. I was going up the river and finding people. That's all there was to it and I wasn't letting a few shrubs stop me.

I took my quandary to my father that evening. He was a problem solver. He liked nothing more than coming up with a solution to overcome a problem. I didn't need him on the river with me, but he might have a suggestion of how I could stay on the river without ending up in it and thus get to where I was going.

“I don't know where the river goes, Clay,” he said, standing beside the conservancy truck. “There's a map at the conservancy. I'll look at it tomorrow.”

“I want to go up the river to find out what's there. You know, explore, Pop.”

“How stiff is the current?”

“Kind of squirrely at the mouth but it moves slower as you get away from the gulf.”

“You know you don't know how to swim. I don't want you taking any risks on that water.”

“I'm fine, Pop. I'm not afraid of the water. I won't panic and drown myself.”

“See that you don't. Your mother wouldn't like it if you did. Let me give it

some thought and you stay out of the river. I'll come up with something for you.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, as he walked toward the house.

I'd put the bee in Pop's bonnet. He wasn't a big talker, but give him a problem and he'd work on it until he came up with something. Taking it to him gave me way more brain power. It allowed me to let go of my frustration at failing in my search for people.

*****

I walked up to the river the next morning, pondering what size boat would work on the river and how much it was going to cost. I'd have to grow up, get a job, and buy a small motorboat before I got up that river. I'd never been in a boat. My job as built-in babysitter kept me close to the house, but I didn't earn enough to buy the rope to tie up a boat with. My younger sister was only a little more mature than me, but no one noticed yet. Any mention of Lucy being smarter than me would be seen as self-serving, even if it was true.

Lucy was the only siblings I got along with. We could keep each other entertained for hours. By the last week in June I could only spend so much time with Millie and babysitting kept me at the house, thinking of better days.

I loved being in the water, but I had premature wrinkling from being in it so much. One day soon they'd be calling me prune-face. The condition didn't seem to be permanent, but how could a kid be sure about a thing like that? I stayed home in the morning with Lucy and it began to lightning and thunder in the afternoon. I wasn't scared of it. I just didn't want to be out in it.

By July I'd been everywhere I could get without parental assistance and my parents had plenty to do without me bothering them. The river continued to bother me. Talking to Millie was getting old. What do you say to a manatee? She wasn't much of a conversationalist and I'd run out of questions for her. We met at the point the next few days but I didn't stay because it looked like rain.

I wondered if Millie might let me hold on to her when she swam up river. I told Pop I wouldn't drown if it could be helped. The best I could do was stare at

the river and wish a friend would come floating my way. Dreams could come true.

After first arriving in Florida, I was distracted by the beauty and the dazzling treasures I found on the beach. I'd given thought to enjoying it more if my friends were with me, but it was best to push those thoughts away. Daydreaming about them made it worse. Because it wasn't going to happen.

As my efforts to find new friends were thwarted by the isolation of our location, the old friends came to mind more often. The idea of being with them became more powerful as the days passed. My daydreams were frequently about the things we did together. Laying on the point, my mind wandered back to Tulsa.

Why did I lose my friends? If there was a God, I didn't like him. What I wanted was simple enough. Everyone should have a friend, and I'd settle for one friend to replace the three I lost.

I'd been best friends with Calvin and Russell all my life. Their friendship was at the center of my life. When I was six and in the first grade, Bart showed up. He wasn't particularly remarkable at first. 'Too smart for his own good,' I'd thought. I'd have ignored him under ordinary circumstances.

Calvin, Russel, and I were in an exclusive club of three. We weren't taking applications, and even if we were, Bart was an unlikely candidate. The only fly in that ointment, Bart moved into the house directly behind mine. My mother made me invite him over to play with us. Who likes a parental arranged play date?

We held our nose and did what we were told. Bart turned out to be funny. He told us stories about Vermont. In no time it was time for my friends to go home. When Mama sent Bart home, she told him, 'Open the gate in the backyard. It opens into your backyard. Just leave it open if you want.'

The gate was never closed again. Bart was always the first one at my house when there was something to do, even walk to school. With no noticeable brains in our outfit, Bart furnished his. He thought of things we didn't consider when we were about to charge headlong into difficulty.

That's how Bart joined Calvin and Russell as my best friends. Calvin had personality. Russell had charm. And Bart was the brains. I never needed to look for a friend before. I was born on a block where we all lived and played.

Having built in friends was a super idea. I wish my friends lived on my beach. We'd have torn the place up and never stopped having fun, except to eat. We'd need to keep an eye on Russ so he didn't drown himself.

I sat watching Millie a few days later, as she swam against the current, letting it carry her back to the gulf, and doing it again. She was funny and fun to watch, and still my only friend. I wondered if she was having fun.

The sun was hot and I eased myself into the water, keeping one hand firmly planted on the shore. I needed to learn to swim. The cool water washing over me was refreshing. On the hottest day, this was the best spot to keep cool.

Now I didn't know anyone but the people at my house, and sometimes I wished I was an only child. Even in that big house, old family squabbles closed in on us. My brothers ruled the roost. I wasn't big enough to do anything about it. Except for the dinner table, we went our separate ways.

In the evening I went to my room, closed the door, and I wrote to one of my friends. I sent each letter to a different one with the three names on it. I pictured them sitting under our tree, while Bart, our official reader, read anything that concerned all of us. Even when one of us was no longer there.

Now we were reduced to the occasional almost literate letter. They wouldn't be enough to keep our friendship going, but we didn't know that then. Being lonely was becoming painful made worse by the strange people living at my house. My sisters treated me like a baby and my brothers treated me like a punching bag. It was nothing to write home about.

One day, after my babysitting chore was completed, I found a large inner tube leaning against the shed at the side of the house. It was fully inflated and no one needed to explain it to me. My father had solved my dilemma. I thought he'd

forgotten. The conservancy did keep him busy.

Carrying it up the riverbank, until I reached the place where the undergrowth stopped my progress, I put the tube in the water there. The current wasn't as noticeable away from the mouth of the river. Sitting down in the center of the tube, it required a modest effort to overcome the slow moving water.

I used my hands to propel me, but by the time I got a hundred yards, I thought a paddle was in order if I wanted to get anywhere. Remembering the pile of boards behind the shed, one was surely suitable to be made into a paddle.

After an hour on the river, I was worn out but hopeful. I let the river take me back to the gulf. It took about two minutes. Carrying the tube home, I went to the shed to select an appropriate board. Using a hatchet to shape a handle, I wrapped it with tape so it would be easier on my hands.

I was done for the day, but my new rig excited me. Lonely days would soon be gone. Babysitting became an obstacle for a few days. Mama came home for lunch but had to go back to work in the afternoon for a couple of days.

July took hold that week. The heat and humidity went up in the afternoon, until the rains came and cooled it off. Not being on the river sweating in the midst of swarms of bugs didn't bother me so much. The comfort of the big house, nestled back in the trees, kept it cool until late on the hottest days.

The first chance I got, I grabbed the tube and paddle, heading for the river. This was the day I'd see what was up that river. Determination propelled me. The moment of truth was at hand. I was going to row until I found people.

Millie was lollygagging along the shore as I placed the tube in the water. She came over to investigate, lumbering along with me as I paddled up river. I wondered if Millie was looking for a friend too? She was so homely, I figured making friends wasn't easy for a manatee. I was sure I had a better shot.

While bird dogging Millie, after she got tired of my slow pace, she waited for me by a bend in the river. We were well into the heavy duty forest. Even in the bright Florida sun, the river was deep in the shadows. The only sound was that of

my paddle dipping into the water and the crickets and the frogs. I'd been paddling for most of an hour and my hands were beginning to blister.

“Okay,” I said. “I know I'm slow. I've gone as far as I want to go today. I need to get used to rowing,” I explained, as her bovine eyes studied me like she understood every word.

That's when I first heard the noise. It wasn't civilization as I envisioned it. It was loud and unruly. It's why Millie stopped. She wasn't going around the bend. I couldn't be sure what the ruckus was and I didn't want to charge into trouble. I eased over to the riverbank, using the bushes to get a view of the disturbance.

I didn't want to be seen, while I got a look at what was going on. The noise rose and fell. It was loud and then it was quiet and then loud again. Using a particularly bushy bush, I saw a half dozen or more boys standing together.

I couldn't be sure these were the boys I wanted to know. Maybe they weren't as noisy as they sounded, but they were loud. My friends didn't make much noise and we always wore clothes. The loudness deal bothered me, but the boys being naked deal shocked me. It was obviously they were older than me.

I was inexperienced at finding friends. Maybe there were quieter boys in swim suits farther along. To get there I had to pass here. How particular did I want to be? The being loud wasn't so bad. The being naked worried me some.

I hadn't talked to anyone close to my age in a while. Was I going to pass up this chance because they screamed? No, that didn't worry me. I could adapt to boys being loud. On my first time on the river, I'd found what I was looking for. Here were boys I could make friends with.

They were likely not the only boys who swam in the river and I wasn't sure what to do. Being lonely was no advantage at a time like this. I wanted to charge right up in my tube and introduce myself. I needed to approach in a way that wouldn't put them off or make me look foolish.

If a boy needed a friend as badly as I did, how anxious would I be to be his friend? I thought of new kids who came to school in Tulsa. My friends and I should have been nicer. It didn't cost a thing to be nice. The shoe was on the other foot. I wished I'd been nice to new kids. Realizing what a butt-head I'd been didn't help me feel better about needing a friend. I was the outsider wanting to find a way in.

I wanted to be careful once I heard the yelling and screams. Millie voted on this group of boys by turning tail to run, or swim, once bodies started hitting the river. I peeked from under my confidential bush to see what was going on.

There was a rope hanging from a thick branch on a wide tree. The branch had grown out over the water. One end of the rope had been tied to the branch. The other end of the rope was tied to a tire. It was like no swing I'd ever seen. The boys swung over the river one or two at a time, dropping into the water. Along with the swinging activity went screaming and yelling, as their bodies fell. Boys stood in line yelling encouragement and insults at the boy on the swing.

Each time a boy let go of the tire and hit the water, he clambered back up the bank and got back in line. There was a substantial amount of chatter and laughter that went with the activity, which better explained the noise.

I'd have been more anxious to join them if water wasn't involved. To be one of the guys, I was going to be expected to swing out on that tire and drop into the river. This wasn't high on my to-do list, but these guys were delighted to do it.

The question came to mind, 'when I sank, would one of them pull me out?'

As I hid in that bush, pondering my future, a rather handsome boy came strolling out of the woods. He made nine guys at the rope swing. He shifted the balance of power to the naked dudes, five to four.

What struck me right off the bat, he showed up naked. Where did he come from without clothes? There were piles of clothes in several spots. He may have been there before and was out of sight when I got there.

Being naked, like falling out of a tree, wasn't my thing, but I wasn't from here. If that's what it took to make friends, I'd probably go for it, but I wanted to avoid it if possible. Being picky didn't seem like a good plan, but these boys were way different from my friends.

If they knew they were going swimming, why not bring a swimming suit? I didn't get it. The guys who weren't naked swam in underwear. No one wore cutoffs. We all wore cutoffs in Tulsa during the summer. Everyone had worn out jeans and they made perfect shorts. They dried fast if you went swimming.

The new boy got my attention right away. He was taller, while being thinner with a pretty good build on him. He looked closer to my age and he looked younger than most of the other boys, who were noticing him for the first time.

He hadn't been there before. The other boys circled him and this created new chatter around the latest arrival. I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. I couldn't see what was going on in the middle of their circle.

The swing was quiet while the new boy was interviewed by the other boys. I hoped there wasn't going to be trouble. Then everyone laughed and they acted happy to see him. He was a hit with these guys. I would soon find out why.

When the gathering around him broke up, the new kid went to the swing. When he showed up, there was a line, but they all stepped aside to let the new kid take a turn. I found that curious. How did he rate going to the front of the line?

The new boy walked the tire back a bit farther than anyone else. Even then the line didn't form behind him. The boys stretched out along the riverbank so they could see what they knew was about to happen. What was he going to do?

The new kid took off with the tire in hand, swinging out over the water. It looked different from how the other boys did it. He was moving faster and he went higher. Someone moving that fast and going that high was going to come down hard. I cringed when I thought of my prospective friend hurting himself.

When he let go of the tire, he continued upward. He was soaring over the center of the river. When his momentum stopped, he began to twist and turn his body, suspend in air for long enough to be coming down head first. When he hit the water, there was hardly a ripple.

I was flabbergasted. No one could do that, but I'd seen him do it.

The watchers cheered and yelled his name, “Ivan.”

That was cool!

That explained the greeting he got. He hadn't been there before today but he'd been there before and these boys had seen him do that dive. He was good.

Coming out of the water, he was met with requests to do it again. The other boys were excited by his performance and gathered around him. They patted his back and told him about the dive.

“Come on, Ivan, do it again,” a boy said.

“Yeah,” other boys agreed.

I'd nearly let go of the branch holding me in place, while watching Ivan dive. I rearranged myself so I was looking directly up the middle of the river, where I'd be able to see better. I held tight, waiting for a repeat performance.

Ivan went to the tire, walking it back that little extra, and he took off again. The cheers were even louder the second time he performed. He was the most graceful boy I'd ever seen. It was like gravity didn't apply to him. Ivan could fly, and when he landed, it was as gentle as a butterfly landing on a leaf.

These boys showing appreciation for what he did was encouraging. They weren't so bad. Climbing out of the water, Ivan was surrounded by boys. They spoke in loud happy voices. They saw what I saw. No one could do it like Ivan.

This was the guy I wanted for a friend. I wanted to know him. Ivan would make a good friend. Everyone liked him. That made him okay. Besides, he could do that dive. I wanted Ivan to be my friend and to teach me that dive.

I waited for a chance to float up and introduce myself. I was excited now. I'd found a suitable boy and I was ready to take a shot. I wasn't going to let the older boys intimidate me. If only things were that easy.

I didn't notice Ivan leave, but I didn't see him again. He was easy to spot. He was taller than the other boys and his skin was more evenly tanned. Ivan couldn't have been wearing a suit and gotten that all over tan.

Boys trying to duplicate Ivan's dive fell like Kamikaze birds, bent on self-destructing. No one came close to getting their bodies to turn in the air. I thought it was interesting that about half of them tried the dive once Ivan left. Failures were met with laughter and insults. They were having a good time, but I lost interest.

It's difficult to say why I thought a boy as clever as Ivan might want to be my friend. The decision was made and no one else interested me. Once I saw Ivan, self-assured and poised, I liked him. Now that he was gone, I might not see him again, but we were going to be friends. I could feel it.

Where did he go? I hadn't seen him leave, but when the boys surrounding him broke up to reform their line, there was no Ivan.

The other boys were too loud and uncoordinated. When the time was right, I'd meet Ivan. I didn't need to hurry. My mind was made up. I'd figure out a way.

Some boys stood in line. Some boys were talking, while watching boys swing. None acted as if he had anywhere to be. Why had Ivan been the one to leave? Why come to that spot, do two dives, and leave? There were questions. He gave me a lot to think about.

I let go of the branch that held me in place. The river carried me toward home. My mind was filled with images of Ivan. It was an image I wouldn't soon forget. I saw him at his best and he wasn't hiding anything.

I was excited but cautious. I'd be seen as a duffus if I showed up and begged off the tire swing, because I couldn't swim. It was Florida. I had to be ready before I made myself known.

I'd return and hope Ivan was there when I did. If he wasn't, I'd ask questions abut him and I'd find out where he lived. I was going to meet him.

Chapter 3

The House by the River

I'd found boys close enough to my age to qualify as friends. I needed to go back to close the deal. I feared I’d make a fool out of myself. I feared being laughed at and seen as unsuitable for friendship. I feared a lot of things.

I was fourteen and sure I couldn't make it until I was eighteen without friends. I had good friends and I wanted good friends. This thought made me the saddest. I wasn't going to meet guys like Calvin, Russ, and Bart in this place. Ivan was still on my mind. I felt we could be friends. I didn't see why not, but why would a boy like Ivan want anything to do with me? He didn't know I was alive.

Once I knew where to find guys, waiting for the right time was cool. I wanted to be ready when I showed up at the swing this time. I'd introduce myself and find the boys who were most like me. I wasn't getting my hopes up. I'd take it slow and easy and accept the result.

There was always Millie.

*****

As we sat devouring the meal Mama spent the afternoon preparing, my father and brothers talked about work. It was still new and each day something exciting seemed to happen. My brothers liked the new world we'd been dropped into, and in particular they liked the local girls. Since most of the work my brothers did involved keeping the beaches clean, they often ran into girls.

I'd yet to find girls to be the most important feature in life. While I knew girls I liked, it had nothing to do with why my brothers liked girls. My only motive was in seeing what they thought about a particular thing.

My friends furnished me with all the opinions I could ever use, but girls were smarter and actually thought things over, which gave what they had to say more value. It gave me more to go on than the wild ideas of boys my age. I could predict my friends. I didn't know what the girls I was friendly with might say.

“How'd the inner tube work out?” Pop asked, when the chatter died down.

“Great, Pop. Thanks. It works fine. I made a paddle out of a board from the wood pile.”

“You didn't ask for a paddle. I left it for you to work out. How far did you get?” he asked.

“I'd say a mile. There's a rope swing and boys up there. I didn't go any farther than that today. I've been wanting to meet boys my age.”

“Boys? Shouldn't you be scoping out chicks at your age,” Coleen said.

“No, I shouldn't. I'd be afraid they'd turn out to be like you, Coleen.”

Milk shot out of Lucy's nose as she coughed loudly. I patted her back.

“Thanks, I think,” Lucy said, regaining control of her milk.

“Be careful. You can't swim, Clayton. I don't want you going in that river,” Mama said, always wanting to protect me from myself.

“Mother,” Pop said with an unusual challenge in his voice. “The boy's fourteen. Leave him be. He'll be fine. We didn't raise idiots. I've talked to him.”

“Don't forget Brian, Pop,” John-Henry said.

“Mama!” Brian complained.

“John-Henry,” Mama said in her calming voice.

“I've already been in the river, Mama. It's no big deal. The current is pretty swift near the gulf but I stay away from there,” I said for clarity if not for honesty.

“Boys?” Coleen asked, perking up. “Are they shrimps,...like you, Clayton, or are there... big boys there?”

“Big, Coleen,” I said, knowing how to get her going. “Seventeen, eighteen at least. They were diving in the river. Some must be football players. Big muscles. Broad shoulders. Big boys.”

“Don't get any ideas, young lady,” Mama warned.

“No,” Pop said. “Don't be doing that. If they're a mile up river, they're out of reach for you, sweetheart. The gravy is outstanding tonight, Mother.”

“Thank you, Mr. Olson,” Mama said, pleased by the compliment.

“He's pulling your leg, Coleen,” Lucy said. “Clay isn't going to be hanging around no boring football players. You should know that much.”

Lucy caught on when no one else did. She was the only one that listened to what I said. My baby sister knew when I was pulling someone's leg and Coleen's leg was perfect for pulling.

My brothers packed it away, while my appetite was still in Tulsa. Mama was a great cook. I'd had a good appetite until now, but food didn't appeal to me nearly as much as it once did. I rarely turned down dessert, but we all have to drown our sorrows somehow. Tonight it was banana budding on Manila Wafers. If I was ever going to drown something, banana pudding was the way to go.

Florida was cool enough but it would have been way cooler if my friends were here. They could sleep in my room and we'd rule the beach. Imagining us being together didn't do much for my appetite or my disposition.

Another day passed before I stood at the river with my tube again. My courage had never run higher. Today I'd make a friend. I wondered if anyone would be at the swing. It was summer. Teens had time on their hands. Odds were someone might find his way to the river to cool off.

I tossed the tube in the water, looking around to see if Millie was nearby. I was later than usual, and my one friend couldn't wait. The sweat rolled as the humid afternoon closed in on the river. As hot as it was, it was faster getting to the bend in the river, but I knew where I was going this time.

Hearing the yelling and the screams, I once more stopped where the brush furnished me cover. I was going to the swing today. I wanted to see who was there first. There was no telling if it would be the same boys or different ones.

I'd wait for the time to be right before paddling into view, letting first contact run its course. A line of boys waited to use the rope swing. They joked and laughed as one boy after another dropped into the water. I examined the faces for Ivan's. He wasn't there but I recognized two faces from my first visit. That made

me feel better about approaching them.

I paddled up. A branch stuck out of the bank where I hung the tube, sticking the paddle in the mud below the tube. I scampered up the bank a few feet from the line of boys. A boy dropped into the river with a big splash. The five other boys turned to look at me. The laughter and good times stopped dead. I smiled. It was too late to run.

“Hi,” I said cheerfully, waving my arm.

“Hi,” came a weak response, as they kept an eyes on me.

“I saw you guys going off into the river. That looks like fun,” I said, doing my best to sell it. “I was here once before. It's a good spot.”

My confession didn't move anyone to speak. The boy in the river came out, stopping a little behind me, where he inspected my mode of transportation.

“I saw a kid who swung out on that tire, hung up in the air, turned upside down, and dove into the river without leaving a ripple in the water. What a dive!”

“Ivan,” several voices mumbled to one another.

“You know Ivan?” a boy asked.

“I saw him do that dive. I want him to show me how to do that. Does he come here often?” I asked more boldly than I intended.

“Ivan? Sure,” one of the familiar boys said, stepping out of line and coming over. “He stays with his mother this time of year. When he stops by his house, he comes by. He comes all the time when he's home. He's the best diver around. No one but him can do that dive.”

“The best everything,” another boy said. “Boy can play some basketball.”

“Yeah,” a boy agreed. “He's deadly with a basketball.”

“Ivan's the man,” the boy next to me said. “I'm Steve.”

“I'm Clay,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Steve shook my hand as the line began to move again. A boy came up the bank as Steve stood beside me.

“I'm Hermie,” the second boy said, also shaking my hand, but giving me the once over.

“You're new?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, we just moved here. I live down on the beach.”

“Cool. Where you from?” Steve asked, sounding friendly.

“Tulsa,” I said.

“Wow! You a cowboy?” Hermie calculated. “Clay's a cowboy.”

“Hey, we got us a cowboy,” another boy yelled to a guy in the river. “That your horse, cowboy?”

Everyone laughed when someone held up the tube for clarity. Part of the line broke away to cone toward us.

“You a cowboy?” a boy asked, coming over to me. “I'm Louis. My old man's from Texas. I don't think he knows which end of a horse is up though.”

Boys laughed at the comment. Being from Tulsa had never gotten me noticed before, but everyone was from Tulsa back home. I shook hands with everyone who came over. They surrounded me wanting details on Tulsa.

It was the beach boys meet the cowboy. I had been to the rodeo every fall and I knew which end of a horse was up, but I was no cowboy. I didn't tell them that. I wasn't anything when I showed up there. Being a cowboy became a good thing to be, even when my friends and I stayed away from cowboy gear.

I was from somewhere else, while none of them had been out of Florida. It was five or six hundred miles from where we were to get out of Florida, so you really had to want to drive a long way to leave that part of the Sunshine State.

Coming from the middle of the country was like a world traveler had floated up to their swing. Being identified as a cowboy created interest and that led to conversation. Right away there was something to talk about.

All my fear and apprehension seemed foolish. My traveling was confined to coming to Florida from Oklahoma, but I left that part out. Why disappoint them. I told them about cowboys, rodeos, and the oilfields that had begun to run dry.

Steve squat down beside me to watch the tire swing. He told me about Florida, the school I'd go to, and what it was like. We were in the same grade, but he looked older, more mature. He talked like a cool guy, and he asked questions.

No one suggested I swing. They were busy arguing whose turn it was. I waited to see if Ivan showed up, as I enjoyed having someone to talk to. After ten minutes or so, I felt comfortable enough to ask the sixty-four dollar question.

“Why is everyone naked. Is there a swim suit shortage in Florida?”

“Swimming suits? It's Florida, man. We don't wear suits where we swim. Cowboys bashful, are they?”

“There's no water in Oklahoma. We don't wear swim suits either. We don't do much swimming. Seeing guys running around naked isn't what I'm used to. It made me curious is all.”

“I've never owned a suit. When I was small and with my family on the gulf, none of the kids wore suits. I never knew anything else.”

Steve wasn't sitting on the dirt like I was. He squat down beside me so his butt didn't get in the dirt. It was surprisingly easy to get past the fact he was naked. Four boys were naked, one wore boxers, and one wore a bathing suit. No one seemed preoccupied with who wore what.

The nice thing about cutoffs, I could sit on the dirt and as soon as I hit the water, they were clean. I thought the same should be true of someone's bare butt.

“Some guys wear something, but sooner or later everyone ends up naked. It's not like we don't come with the same undercarriage. Admittedly, some of us come with more undercarriage than others, but it's no big thing. Once you see a bunch of naked boys, each bunch of naked boys looks just like that.”

“You don't feel self-conscious?” I asked, feeling self conscious.

“Nah. There's a freedom that I feel. Nothing to make me feel bound up. Try it. You'll like it. No one here cares. Once you swim naked, you never go back.”

“I'll take your word for it. Girls don't come here?” I asked, going beyond other boys seeing me naked.

“Sure they do. It's where the boys are. Didn't you hear the song? The girls are looking for the boys, dude.”

“They are? Not so much in Tulsa,” I said. “Not guys my age anyway.”

“Hell, they can't wait to get naked. In spite of what your mother told you, girls are way bolder than boys. They're usually show up when the older boys come to swing. You don't want to see that.”

“Why not?” I asked, trying to picture it.

“Big hairy guys with more dick than brains. You don't want to be around them when girls come down. It's like they get an idea in their heads and someone is going to help them out if they don't get any.”

“Guys bother you?”

“Not me. I'm fine. I'm fifteen. Guys like you should be careful.”

“I will. They don't come down when just you guys are here, the girls?”

“Yeah, sure! They want what they want. I have no problems helping them out. They like what I have. It's as cool as it gets. They check for the mature guys.”

“I don't mind wearing a suit,” I explained, wondering about how bold he said he was.

“I bet. My grandmother has a suit just like yours.”

“Girls come here and swim naked?” I asked, seeking clarification and ignoring the grandmother remark.

“They come here to get naked. They come here to find boys. This is Florida, man. None of the guys I know are bashful.”

I had nothing to hide but walking around naked would bother me. Other boys running around naked didn't have a negative impact on me. I didn't know how to react at first, but it that's how it was done here, who was I to object?

through me off at firsts, but I wasn't losing a friend over it. If my friends and I came upon these boys in Tulsa, we'd have gone the other way, but I wasn't in Tulsa. I'd never been that interested in what other kids wore.

We may have the same stuff, but I wanted to keep mine to myself. Unexpected rises weren't something I could rule out. It may have been no big thing here, but I wasn't from here. While naked friends would have been a deal killer back home, it was merely a different taste in fashion here, and it was every man for himself.

Friendship wasn't as hard to come by as I imagined it would be. None of the boys had two heads or wanted me to perform acrobatics to qualify. Being from Oklahoma was enough to get their attention. I'd ride that as far as it would take me. I didn't realize that where I came from would figure into making friends where I ended up. I didn't mind.

Florida was okay. I didn't feel as lonely but I still wasn't certain how the friendship deal would work. Paddling up river to see my new friends wasn't easy in the July heat, but if it was how to meet guys, I was willing to make the trip. It wasn't the same as having friends on my block.

At fourteen I was full of curiosity and confusion. Being in the same place my entire life furnished me with an identity. I knew who I was and where I belonged. In Florida I was learning to be a beach boy. It wasn't as easy on me as it sounds.

Steve, Hermie, and Louis were immediately curious about me.. They saw Roy Rogers and John Wayne when they said cowboy. I did too, but who was I to argue with success?

“How do you guys get here?” I asked, as Steve came back from swinging a couple of times.

“Bailey's got a van. He drops us. He'll come down when he's ready to go.”

“Bailey?” I asked, wondering about a guy old enough to have wheels.

“He's a junior at our school. Cool dude. Likes guys our age. We drive around with him on weekends. He's been known to have beer. Not everyone rates when it comes to the beer.”

“Beer! Do you rate?” I asked.

“I'm in ninth grade, like you, but I was held back in fifth grade. I'm the oldest guy here. I get shotgun in the van and I can have beer if I want. Frankly I don't like the taste. I take it so Bailey thinks I'm cool, you know?”

“Where do you live?” I asked. “How far to come here?”

“I'm from over by school. Half of these guys live just outside of town in a trailer park behind the A&P. We walk to school together. Nice of them to build it so close to the trailer park. The others are spread out, like you. It's maybe ten miles from here. We come here because of the swing. We have places near the gulf where we hang on weekends. Party. No grownups,” Steve said.

“Except Bailey.”

“He just turned seventeen. Not exactly an adult. Bailey isn't that mature. He's cool around us. The older guys pick on him. Call him a pansy. I mean he's more like us than he's like guys his age. He's not a creep or pushy. He's cool. You'll see. I'll make sure you meet Bailey.”

Hermie came to squat before Steve got back in line. One boy at a time stopped to listen on the way back to the swing. I tried not to sound stupid.

“You come with Bailey too?” I asked Hermie, when everyone else was gone.

“Yeah, he lives next door to me at the trailer park. He used to babysit me when I was little. Cool guy. He taught me about everything. He'd give me the shirt off his back. When his parents are away, he has parties at his house. I mean par-ty, dude. All these guys and more from the trailer park. We'd get drunk, get naked, raise hell. A wonder we all aren't locked up. Bailey's okay.”

“Steve too?” I asked.

“Steve's his number one. He gets to sit shotgun. He's the oldest besides Bailey. They hang out at night. I'm youngest. Just thirteen, but I know what's going on.”

Steve looked like the oldest and Hermie didn't look that young. He had rosy cheeks and his skin was fairly white for Florida. He sounded fairly bold for his age.

“Lots of kids live in the trailer park?” I asked.

“All but two of these dudes. Half the school lives at Madison. That's the trailer park. It's cool. Lots of new trailers this year. New people come here when times are tough. I don't know why. There's nothing here. We make our own fun. New kids can be a lot of fun.”

Steve had stopped to listen on a trip up the bank to ask when I was coming back. I told him I'd be back the next day. He wasn't sure Bailey would be coming out this way tomorrow.

“Hey, Hermie, don't be telling tales out of school. Clay don't want to hear about our drunken parties, and you know Bailey says to keep to ourselves.”

“Clay's cool. We'll invite him to one of Bailey's parties. Everyone else goes.”

“Maybe,” Steve said. “Don't be telling where all our bodies are buried. Clay looks like a nice boy.”

I took that opportunity to say I had to go, knowing I'd been gone long enough. I didn't want to overdo it the first time we met.

I'd succeeded in finding boys my own age. What came next wasn't clear. It was their turf, and I'd tread lightly, not saying too much, while listening to them. I would return to the swing the next day. I wanted my face known, and when Ivan showed up, I wanted to be here to tell him we were going to be friends.

Steve waved as I reached my undercover bush and went out of sight. Hermie came up and stood beside him, waving too. The sound of the boys dropping into the river accompanied my departure. I could still hear them yelling and hitting the water a few hundred yards down river. Sound really carried there.

I felt relaxed with them after a few minutes. How cool was that?

*****

Millie was waiting for me the next day. I put down the tube and went to say hello. She gazed up at me, staying in place as I slipped into the water next to her. She nuzzled up to me, blowing bubbles with her nose. She made me laugh. Millie needed a shave. She was big and gentle. We stayed there for a few minutes, letting the river wash over us.

Then it was time to go up river again. Steve and his friends wouldn't be there but I was curious to see who might be there today. By being seen and seeing local boys, I figured I would do better once I got to school. Millie swam behind the tube.

I was becoming more efficient with my paddling motion and picked up the pace. She was satisfied to stay behind me and then beside me. She took the lead once we were closing in on the swing. Once more she waited at the bend in the river. She has waited for me in the same spot as she did the first time. Did she remember me? Did she remember I stopped at the bend in the river to spy on the boys at the swing? She wasn't afraid of me. She wanted nothing to do with the boys dropping into her river. She's less agitated this time.

I listened as I paddled right around the bend to see who was there. There was no one to spy on this time. Millie stayed next to the tube, until I climbed the bank to get a closer look at the swing. She lingered near where the boys dropped into the water, examining the area.

The rope hung limp. Someone crawled out on the thick limb, wrapped the rope around it four or five times, before tying the tire to it. It was eight or ten feet out on the limb. How'd they bring the rope over to the riverbank to grab the tire?

I looked around the trunk of the tree and found a long thin branch with a smaller branch near the end of it. I took it to the swing side of the tree and extended it out and snagged the rope.

'How cool was that?'

It was all figured out ahead of time. I wondered who first went out on the limb to secure the rope. Did he tie a tire to it, or did the tire come later?

Once I considered the swing, I walked the path as it meandered around, up and down small hills, before I hear the cars on the highway. It was the only highway that ran north and south. It was the one we came in on the day we arrived at our house.

A bridge crossing the river was a hundred yards north. I didn't realize how far south I'd walked following the path. Who made paths to go all over God's little acre? Why not make a path that went straight to where you were going? I remembered how the roads bent and curved all over the place. If highway builders couldn't make a straight road, I guess path makers didn't need to.

If I walked south on the highway, I'd come to the drive that led to our driveway that led to the house.

I was sure I paddled at least a mile to get to the swing. I'd walked at least a mile from the swing to the highway. There were no houses and barely enough room on the shoulder to park a car or a van. No more cars came by as I stood thinking about the location.

Any idea people lived within walking distance of my house was forgotten. An empty swing was of no interest, and I floated back to the gulf.

Mama was always on the watch for signs of mischief, although I'd managed to maintain a reliable reputation in Tulsa. There wasn't any mischief to get into. At fourteen I was able to go out for three or four hours without raising a red flag. If Mama came home for lunch and stayed at the house, and I didn't come back for hours, she'd question me. I didn't want to have to explain what I was up to.

The less I mentioned the river, or water in general, the better off I was. I knew the routine and I knew how to keep out of hot water with Mama. I was the last boy she could mother. My freedom, my quest for friends, was a private affair. I didn't want Mama asking to meet my new friends.

I knew from conversations my parents had, they didn't think much of people in trailer parks. They were low class places where poor folks lived too close together and were too familiar. Steve and Hermie were nice to me. I didn't care how close they lived to each other or how familiar they got. They were friends.

Mama knew better than I did that I'd have to go a long way to find mischief. A boy whose best friend was a manatee wasn't at risk. Millie was a safe companion, unlikely to lead me astray.

It sounded like the girls who came to the swing could lead the boys anywhere they liked. I knew what Steve meant. It wasn't unlike what half the fourteen and fifteen year old boys I'd ever known said, mistaking illusion for reality.

Few girls were interested in scrawny teens who weren't that particular about who got them where they thought they wanted to go. Steve could be one of those boys who acted on such enticement. I sensed a certain amount of knowledge that went with his bravado.

Hermie was another story. Bailey was like a guy I knew in Tulsa. Bob was friendly too. Maybe twenty and too friendly with thirteen year old boys. I heard he had parties and beer. Russ told me he was cool. Hermie said that about Bailey. I never asked Russ how cool, but I didn't need to. I didn't ask Hermie how cool Bailey was, but I'd heard similar stories before.

I did know about the game I'd yet to join. This time I wasn't scared. It led to complications that took over your life. My brothers were perfect example of boys who got silly around girls. John-Henry was close to grown, but he hung onto his girlfriend so tightly, it was a wonder he got anything done.

I wasn't ready to be that close to anyone. I didn't know why I should. I knew the mechanics of sex without having any desire to get into the game. Like with so much of my life that summer, I didn't know what it meant.

I accepted my feelings about sex. What Steve, Hermie, or even Russ did, was none of my business. I didn't know that until the day I met Steve and Hermie.

*****

My brothers went out in the eventing to explore their habitat. John-Henry drove the station wagon. I didn't go because they didn't ask me, but being in the house with my brothers was too confining for me. Being in the wagon with them assured we'd have a major disagreement by the time we returned to the house. My brothers treated me like a kid and I'd outgrown it. They were working men contributing to the upkeep of the house and due a certain amount of respect, but with their extended ability to roam, they'd get into trouble before long. They always did and that kept the heat off me.

I didn't take being excluded from their activities too hard. With the advantages came disadvantages and being too friendly with my brothers never turned out well for me. It was more fun for me to be set free on my beach.

In Tulsa we were under someone's gaze most of the time, especially around our neighborhood. It wasn't unusual for Mama to say, 'Mrs. Colebrook called me. What were you boys doing over at her house this afternoon?'

I knew this was her way of telling me we were being watched. Even at school or at some athletic event, Mama knew what I did and who I did it with. We knew our neighbors, and worse, they knew us. We had to get pretty far afoot to be in a place where no one knew us, but we had no urge to go there.

Now after dinner I could jump up and go out and not say where I was going. At best I could walk a mile or so down the beach, or I'd more likely end up at the river. I was fascinated by what took place there. It was made better by the symphony of night sounds with lightning bug accompaniment. I did my best thinking on my point next to the river. On clear nights I could reach the stars.

The house next to the river had a single light on inside the first week in July. I also went to the river to see if anyone was home. The light hadn't been on before and I was curious, but not curious enough to peek in the window. I feared looking in and finding someone looking out.

No one came out to tell me to get away from their river and off their beach.

Someone turned that light on. It was on the top floor and not bright enough to silhouette someone moving inside beyond the big deck in front of that room. Whoever lived there had a better view of the gulf than I had from my room.

I wondered if they were watching me watching their house?

I'd only been to the river twice at night before. I suppose lights could have been left on before. Because I didn't notice them didn't mean they weren't on. One thing for certain, that old deserted house wasn't deserted after all.

I examined it on my way back down the beach, hesitating to watch where the light was on, but I couldn't see anything.

Maybe they'd been on vacation and came home.

Chapter 4

Ivanhoe

I got lost looking into the gulf. It was mostly calm and beautiful. The waves were gentle swells, rising and falling in a rhythmic motion. They carried me and my imagination along. I knew Mexico was out there somewhere. I couldn't see it from where I sat.

I'd once read about pirates sailing the southern gulf waters. They terrorized shipping in the Caribbean. Ships laden with gold and jewels taken from the Indian people in the new world, sailed with their booty for the old world, where rich investors waited for the liberated goods.

The pirates waited too, intercepting what were obviously stolen goods. They took the ships and those responsible for the cargo. In another world the pirates could have been seen as the Caribbean coast guard, keeping stolen goods they recovered to pay expenses. It was search and seizures Middle Age style.

Didn't seem so bad to me. The Indians were out of luck but the real thieves didn't make a completely clean getaway on their 'Voyages of discovery.' It is how Indian property became pirate loot. While I saw these skirmishes as a round about justice of sorts.

The civilized folks didn't see it the way I did. They didn't like the idea of someone stealing their gold and jewels, and pirates were pursued. They sailed into the gulf, seeking safe haven, after raiding a ship or two.

Thievery was illegal when pirates did it.

I imagined the privateers sailing into the Gulf of Mexico, looking for a suitable place to hide their ill-gotten gold, until the heat was off. I pictured a pirate ship anchored near the logjam. A few men and the captain would row into the river. When they reached a spot they liked, one I might be able to find, they buried the treasure, returned to the ship, and sailed away.

Being caught with what was taken off Her Majesty's treasure ships got pirates hanged on the spot. If you buried the treasure, like I imagined my pirates doing, they took them back to the old world for trial, and then hanged them.

Why weren't the real thieves hanged? Laws confused me. If you're rich and you conspire to steal, it's business. If you're poor and steal, you're a pirate.

*****

I wasn't accustomed to being by myself. It led to my mind taking trips I didn't plan. The water and the beach were rich with possibilities. Watching seabirds sail among the clouds made my imagination soar along with them.

No one at my house cared what I did once I was off babysitting duty. Mama checked to see if I might be getting too much sun, and released me to wander my beach. She knew I couldn't go far enough to get into trouble.

By the end of June I no longer turned pink or red. If I planned to be out in the afternoon sun for any length of time, I wore a tee-shirt and hat. Otherwise my skin was allowed to brown at its own pace.

I was off the river for a few days. Once Pop filled my tube with fresh air, I was ready to go again. I used the time to build up my courage. I got excited by the idea of meeting and keeping a friend. This was the day I'd do that.

While the beach was cool, up river was where the action was. Knowing that was a comfort of sorts. After three days off, I was ready to tackle the river again. The trip wore me out because of the increasing heat and humidity among the trees. It was time to make myself known to the boys at the swing.

Millie went halfway with me, once the after lunch journey began. As I rounded the bend, boys were dropping into the river two at a time. Laughing and splashing, they were having a lot of fun. I smiled and wanted to get up the riverbank and meet them. They looked bigger than the others.

These were older boys. Maybe the ones Steve was talking about when he was telling me about the girls. They were more wild than anyone else I'd seen at the swing. They swung in pairs. Naked bodies of all sizes forced together by the activity, and all the time laughter and a joy that went beyond the swing.

The next pair of boys hurried out on the tire, dropping on top of the first pair. This brought about yelling and screaming as they tried to drown each other. Where did fun end and stupidity start?

I had an uneasy feeling as I was already starting up the riverbank.

Boys cussed other boys by name and then two ore boys followed and the activity looked more competitive than need be. I counted seven as a bigger boy picked up a smaller boy from behind, holding the small boys back against his chest, holding him off the ground.

More laughing and cussing came, as the smaller boy's legs kicked the thin air. He was helpless. The lack of swim suits made this posture ill advised in my mind. I could see the hazard immediately.

The boy behind the smaller boy was particularly raunchy looking. He held tight, putting him down roughly. Then they swung together, trying to drown each other once they fell into the river. The smaller boy was evenly matched once they were in the water. The raunchy boy cussed and spit out the river he swallowed.

They both laughed about it in the end, coming up the riverbank next to me. More boys dropped into the river, as I looked for an escape route. These guys were too rough for my taste. Charging into their play pen was ill advised. I didn't recognize a single face.

I backed toward my tube, ready to let it carry me away from here, but one of them honed in on me before I could make my getaway.

“Who invited you to my party, shrimpo?” a boy climbing the bank next to me asked.

I sat down in my tube, ready to escape, but he got a hold of my arm and yanked me straight up to where he lurked over me. His skin was cool and wet against my warm dry skin. His grip on me was too tight.

He reached around me and had my tube in his other big claw.

“Who are you,” he demanded, looking down at my face.

“Clay,” I said, not sure this hadn't become enemy territory.

“Hey, Clay, can we use your tube? Hey, you want to jump through this kid's tube?” he yelled.

“Let the little boy go, Purdy. You don't want to break him,” a loud booming voice advised.

“Or something,” Purdy said, smiling at me. “Did you see we could? Use your tube?”

He squeezed my arm and held me so his face and green teeth were in my face, as this crude guy smiled, scaring the hell out of me.

“I said yes,” I said, and he eased his grip to let my body move off his.

He was tall, skinny, half hairy, and half bald, all at the same time.

Holding up the tube for all to see got a cheer out of what was now eight boys and my capture.

“We'll jump through the tube,” Purdy said.

“Dude, we can't fit two at a time through that little hole,” a bewildered boy said.

“It's the tight little holes that make for more fun,” Purdy said, using my arm to pull me against him again.

No one needed to draw me a picture. His evil grin explained it.

There was louder laughter than the idea deserved, but I was probably prejudiced against his idea, and I began to squirm.

“Why not leave him alone and bring the tube over here so we can use it?”

“Harvey, you'll get a turn. You taking up for your boyfriend here?” Purdy asked. “There's someone you haven't been with?”

“Just thought we were going to swing.”

“You thought too much, Harvey. Shut your trap. I'll rattle your cage when I need you.”

Harvey was the smaller guy that had been horsing around while in line for the swing. He looked nicer, cleaner, than the rest of them, but younger. He was the brunt of the jokes as far as I could tell.

They hadn't started in on me yet. Purdy's tone had me looking for an escape route. I'd lost control of the tube. It was the only way I could get home. The swing had become ugly and I wouldn't be anxious to come back. Whatever it was that drew me here was ruined now.

Their idea proved to be easier said than done. As a boy was ready to swing, the boys in line gave him instructions on how to drop through the center of the tube. The boys aiming for the center hit all around the outer edge, bouncing skyward before hitting the water. The laughter over the failures was loud and unending. These bozos couldn't hit the broadside of a barn.

“Where'd you get that tube?” Purdy asked. after missing the center of the tube for the third time. “We're going to need it so we can practice. You don't mind do you, shrimpo? We could arm wrestle for it or bend you over a log to see what

you're hiding in them britches.”

His voice was harsh and threatening. Other boys stopped to listen and watch me. Harvey stood off a few feet looking worried.

“It's how I get home,” I said.

“It's not that far. You can swim for it. We need the tube,” he said. “It was nice of you to bring it to us. Swim for it and you can keep those britches.”

“I need the tube,” I said firmly. “I can't swim.”

The laughter echoed through the trees.

These boys weren't nice. They talked and acted mean. They'd honed in on me and I wasn't sure what to do. They were looking to have fun and fun to them was picking on me. If they didn't know I was scared, they were blind. My knees were shaking as Purdy pressed his flesh against mine.

“When I get mad, I get horny, and any little boy'll do,” Purdy said. “You sure we can't keep the tube? Remember what happens when I get mad?

“Purdy, he's a kid,” Harvey tried again. “You don't need to mess with him.”

“Want to show him how to do it, Harvey. Don't worry, we'll still love you.”

There was nervous laughter. Harvey turned red all over.

“Shut up, Purdy,” Harvey said.

“Let him go,” another boy interrupted.

“I want my tube. I want to go home,” I said as boldly as I dared.

Purdy held me close and stared into my face like he was working on a mathematical equation. It was the moment of truth and if he tried anything, he'd have sore balls. It's the only thing I could think of to do to derail the line of thought he was considering.

“Let him alone, Purdy. You're always acting like a shithead.”

“You got a big mouth, Ivan. One of these days,” Purdy said, losing his grip on me and I squirmed free.

“One of these days. Purdy? I'm standing right here. You taking the day off. You were just shooting your mouth off. Picking on someone smaller again.”

“It's none of your business,” Purdy said, less certain.

“Wrong again. I just made it my business. I don't like you. I don't like you picking on my friend. Now either step up or back off. Leave the kid alone,” Ivan said in a low determined voice.

Ivan was as tall as Purdy but there wasn't as much of him. There was a two or three year age difference at least. Ivan stood a foot away from him and spoke directly into his face. He stood tall, his shoulders squared. Purdy was slumping with poor posture and he couldn't keep his eyes in Ivan's.

“I didn't know you two were going steady,” Purdy said, and we were in the center of the older boys.

I felt exposed as Ivan stood right next to me, eyeballing Purdy, our shoulders touching, and the older boys waited, for what, I didn't know.

“Go put your tube under the swing,” Ivan told me. “You hold it steady and I'm going to dive through the center. That is what the tube's for, right?”

“You're crazy. You think you can dive through that thing?” Purdy said. “I'll kiss your ass if you can dive through that thing.”

“Will you use tongue?” Ivan asked in a low sexy voice. “I'd like that, Purdy.”

Everyone cracked up but Purdy and me. I was still scared shitless. Ass jokes weren't all that funny to me at the moment.

“Ivan's going to dive. He's going to dive through the tube,” Harvey shouted in case one of the squirrels downstream hadn’t heard.

I went down the bank with the tube and swam to where the boys dropped into the river. I remembered how Ivan swung higher and farther, and so I moved farther out.

As the boys watched Ivan, I thought I could just float away, but Ivan asked me to do something, and since he'd saved my ass for the time being, I'd do what he asked, and with Purdy in mind, I'd make sure he didn't miss.

The boys watched as Ivan held the tire back away from the tree, taking three quick steps, he launched himself into space. As the tire swung up, Ivan let go, flipping over in mid-air. When he came down, he passed right through the

center of the tube.

It amazed me. I saw it up close. It was magnificent and so was he.

When he surfaced next to me, he said softly, as he spit tiny bits of water from his mouth, “Go back home,” he said, taking a breathe. “You don't want to fuck with these guys.” Breathe. “Take your tube and float home, Clay. I'll keep them busy.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling the current pulling me toward the gulf as soon as he swam to the riverbank.

Ivan scampered up the bank. The older boys were patting his back and telling him what a great dive he'd made. Except for Purdy, who wanted my tube. His eyes were on me as I began floating more swiftly toward the bend in the river. He was looking right at me and it never occurred to him I was getting away, until I was almost to where the river bent.

“Hey, where you going? Don't let him get away with that tube,” Purdy yelled, starting for the riverbank, he ran right into Ivan, who sidestepped in front of him.

“He needs to see a man about a dog,” Ivan said. “Besides, Purdy, you've have a date with my ass.”

“Don't push me Ivan,” Purdy said, his voice carrying down river.

“Don't worry, Purdy. I wouldn't touch you on a bet,” Ivan said.

There was laughter that faded behind me as the river carried me along. I wondered if they'd fight. My bet was on Ivan. He looked tougher than Purdy, but Ivan didn't scare me.

Ivan and Purdy were standing face to face with the other boys standing around the last time I saw them. I felt bad leaving Ivan there. I did what he told me to do. It didn't feel like they were going to do anything but insult each other, but I'd have tried to help if Ivan needed me.

Why wasn't Ivan scared of the older boys. I was. Purdy was scary. There was something about the way the other boys treated him. He was well liked.

I was satisfied with my afternoon. I came face to face with meaner boys and survived. I came face to face with Ivan and once again I had nothing to show for it. He took up for me. I wasn't sure that was how to make a friend. Did he see me as a weakling, unable to take care of myself?

I'd never roamed alone before. I'd never run into a gang of older boys before.

Ivan did do the dive I wanted to learn. Doing it one better this time. I made certain he couldn't miss, moving the tube just enough to be sure Ivan passed through the center. We made a cool team. We could take his dive on the road.

I'd never known another boy like him.

I was happy as a lark floating back to the gulf. I was lucky not to get my ass kicked, or worse. Like the first time, there was more than I could process and little I understood. It was difficult to remember the details of what happened.

I'd been around the local boys. It was something I needed to do for better or for worse. It would be easier now, but meeting Ivan face to face was super cool. If I knew how to thank him, I'd bring up the idea of being his friend. I'm certain he couldn't wait to be friends with the Winnie he saved from getting his butt worn out by those creeps.

*****

I was tired when I got to the gulf. Each time, at the swing, I was excited and didn't notice much else. Fatigue set in on my way back. The heat became more apparent as breathing was made difficult. I didn't need the paddle coming home. The river did the work.

I could have lost the tube, but I didn't, and I hung it on a branch of a tree just inside the forest. No one was ever around and it would be safe for my next trip. I had no urge to return to the swing.

While thoughts of Ivan were fresh, the tough boys created a risk I didn't need. I had to go there to see Ivan, and I wanted to know Steve and Hermie better. Maybe once I started school, things would fall into place. Contact was made with local boys. I wouldn't be a stranger when I started school.

In Tulsa my friends and I avoided older boys. At times our brothers headed off the trouble older boys were bent on causing us. Older brothers did come in handy at times, but we knew better than to get into the business of older boys. That was never made more clear to me than the day Ivan rescued me from them.

As troublesome as the older Tulsa boys could be, the naked Florida version were more tasteless in the danger they intended to deliver to younger boys.

The daydream of being caught alone at the swing by them gave me chills. Purdy wasn't nice and he had bad breathe.

*****

The next few days I busied myself filtering my fingers through the sand in the mouth of the river to collect the most beautiful tiny shells. I placed them in my bedroom window, arranging the larger shells on the ends and smaller shells in the middle. The afternoon sun made the brilliant colors glitter like gold.

I hadn't seriously considered going on the river again. Leaving well enough alone for the time being, was a good idea. I enjoyed the beach, and the point that looked out on the logjam. I was most content there, when it wasn't too hot.

Before heading home, I thought to check on the tube. When I looked, it wasn't hanging on the branch where I hung it. It hung on the branch of the next tree and on the opposite side from where I left it.

I knew this because the paddle was where I left it under the tree where I hung the tube. It had been moved. What sense did that make? I looked around to see if anything else had changed, but I couldn't tell.

Babysitting the next morning got me to the river after lunch. The afternoons brought about the likely possibility of thunderstorms drifting in off the gulf. The thunderheads boiled up, darkening the sky, and before the lightning began, I was running for home. I knew from Tulsa, lightning was serious business.

These were things I adapted to by July. As quick as Mama came home at lunch, I was on my way to the river in the hopes of finding something new and exciting.

That day I thought about Ivan being at the swing that day. I had no idea how far he had to go to get there, but I figured he'd be there. I wouldn't. It wasn't worth it to me any more. As much as I wanted to meet Ivan, and talk to him, it wasn't worth the risk of running into trouble. I wasn't going to ask for it.

While sitting in the shadows under the palms, taking a break from the sun, I leaned back to check the inner tube. It was back on the original branch where I originally put it. I jumped up to identify it as my tube, but I didn't need to look.

Once again mystified, I looked at the river, than I turned to look at the faded gray house looming beside me. What was going on?

Someone was visiting my beach and he'd left his calling card. Once again I saw nothing to indicate who the culprit might be. I was made uneasy by the discovery. I went back to where I'd fashioned my spot in the shade, alternately dozing and watching the logjam for new birds, while I cooled off.

When I closed my eyes, it was easy to become lost in my imagination about what or who had been to that river in years past. I got lost in my daydreams, but then I couldn't certain if I was daydreaming or not. Being alone ignited my imagination to create wild daydreams, not to mention my nightmares.

When I was becoming aware of my surroundings, or maybe daydreaming, I saw a naked boy standing next to the river on my point.

How did he get there?

I couldn't be sure he was there. I wasn't sure I was there. Blinking, or maybe not, depending on if I was awake or not, I tried to focus, or maybe not. I was daydreaming, wasn't I? Was I? He looked real to me.

He wasn't there a second before, and yet, here he was. He must have arrived while I was dozing. Did everyone go naked in Florida?

As I sorted through the possibilities of what I was seeing. I knew all the time who the naked boy was. I daydreamed him up often. The body was unmistakably Ivan's. It had to be a dream. I'd been dreaming about Ivan since I first saw him. I had no desire to wake up. I liked to daydreams about him.

He was going to be my friend. I'd made up my mind.

I didn't have to see his face to know him. I couldn't be sure where he came from, but there he was, filling my fanciful mind. I shouldn't do anything to disturb this apparition, just in case it was all in my head.

He knelt to wash something in the water. He stood and held whatever it was up to take a better look. He looked tall and he had perfect posture. Ivan's nudity gave him a certain dignity none of the boys at the swing could muster.

Most of the boys at the swing looked awkwardly naked, proud, yet ill at ease because of it. I related to the clumsiness of their nudity. I'd feel rather overexposed standing naked in front of a group of boys. It was a challenge they took, wanting to appear bold, while looking uneasy by showing it off.

While Ivan was all straight up and down, I was more rounded. I wasn't fat. I had no shape I could identify. Any muscle was well disguised. Ivan's muscles were obvious. He wasn't big but he looked tightly put together. His long arms and legs were perfectly formed, like he was a sculpture come to life. His was graceful. When he knelt, bent, held up the shell, his motions had purpose.

His body was golden brown. It was the perfect tan. I was getting tan, but it was uneven, depending on where it was. My legs were still fairly white. Compared with Ivan, I was white as the sand.

As my mind wandered around the vague morality surrounding nakedness, I failed to see Ivan standing in the shade with me. He'd given up his activities next to the river and now he stood in front of me. How'd he get there?

“Clay!” he said impatiently. “You forget your name?”

“What?”

Do daydreams talk? I couldn't remember.

“Come on. You want to get in out of the sun, don't you? I have soda if you're thirsty. No one's home but me. You're safe,” he said. “Are you thirsty?”

“Sure,” I said, jumping up to follow the apparition come to life.

He started toward the house a hundred feet or so from where I was camped in the shade. The ground went uphill as we walked. I walked faster to keep up. His long legs made for long easy strides. He had no hair on the back of his legs. I couldn't see the back of mine.

His pubic hair was no more than mine. This made me think we were the same age. I couldn't see my butt but I had a perfect view of Ivan's, as I followed him to the house. I hoped mine looked that good, unless Purdy was looking at it.

I still wasn't sure this wasn't a daydream. By applying what I'd seen of Ivan to enhancements I imagined, I could dream this, and he was doing exactly what I'd imagine him doing.

We walked toward the faded gray house. We were always going up hill. The ground the house was on had been elevated above the beach by a considerable amount. I couldn't see the extent of the rise until we reached the house.

We went up three steps to go into the house by way of the kitchen door. The first step was two cinder blocks set side by side. The next two steps were wooden. They creaked under our weight. The fourth step put us in the kitchen.

The kitchen was large and the floor was tile. There was a table and wooden chairs that matched. They looked handmade and expertly designed. Everything but the table and chairs sat on platforms, making the sink, fridge, stove, and even the closet look like a giant lived there. While Ivan was tall, he wasn't that tall, but he could reach everything without standing on a chair. I wasn't sure I could.

“You live here?” I asked.

“No, I broke in to steal their sodas. Orange, Pepsi, or root beer?” he asked. “I'm fond of root beer. I get tired of it now and then. I switch between orange and Pepsi, unless I have Pop get something different when he comes in. He's a

fisherman. He's out in the gulf on his boat.”

“Pepsi. You're Ivan,” I said, still trying to determine if it was a dream or not.

“You're Clay,” he said. “But shouldn't we do it the other way? I'm Ivan.”

“I know who you are. You saved my butt and my tube. Did you move my tube?” I asked, sounding like Mr. District Attorney on television.

“I didn't like where you hung it. Then I decided it looked okay where it was, so I put it back. I'm fussy about where people hang their stuff.”

“You're playing with my head,” I said, putting pieces together.

“And you don't even look excited,” he said. “I'm heartbroken.”

“Now you sound more like Purdy,” I said a bit put off. “Why did you do it?”

“Purdy doesn't have a heart. You were safe with him. He couldn't get excited on a bet.”

“I've seen you at the swing twice. Everyone knows you,” I said, thinking a change of topics was in order.

“No, there are two people in Tampa who don't know me yet. Give me time.”

“You're funny,” I said, smiling at his sarcasm.

Ivan raised his arms to looked at each hairless armpit.

“I am. I don't feel funny. I'll try anything once.”

“Yes, you are,” I said, laughing at his antics.

He smiled as if he was pleased with himself. It made me feel good, when I stopped taking him seriously.

Ivan put ice in two glasses, opening the closet beside the fridge. Piled inside were cases and cases of soft drinks and as many cases of beer beside the soda. He reached over his head and grabbed a Pepsi and he knew where to get a root beer, using a church key on a string nailed to the doorjamb to open them. He turned his back to pour each glass full.

“So, how's it hanging, Clay?” Ivan asked.

“What?” I asked, still unclear on the level of the conversation.

“It. Life. Are the times a changin' for you?”

“I moved from Tulsa to here. That's a change. Seeing people walk around naked is a pretty big change. Don't you think you're upsetting people? I mean don't people object to seeing your tally-whacker on full display?”

Ivan took a long drink of root beer. I thought of the cases of beer in the closet and wondered why he hadn't offered me one. They were obviously there for the taking. I would have said no but we were fourteen and access to alcohol was something to which we were all supposed to aspire.

“What music do you listen to?” he asked.

“Music? Johnny Cash, Roy Acuff, Johnny Horton,” I said. “Western music.”

“No Dylan in Tulsa?”

“Dylan who?”

“Actually Robert Zimmerman, but he calls himself Bob Dylan. We call him Dylan, the people who groove to his sound,” Ivan said.

“Grove?” I asked, wanting to understand. “Why does everything you say sound sexual.”

“Because that's what's on your mind? Grove as in get his music. 'Times They Are A Changin', that's Dylan. It's not so much music as it is prophecy? His lyrics.”

“They are?...It is? I get lost easy. It's religious music? God and I aren't speaking at the moment.”

“My mother got my brother Boris into clothes a couple of years ago. Before that we both swam el natural and once my mother left us and moved to Tampa, we just had no reason to put on our clothes. Then we outgrew them.

“It's not like the water isn't just out our backdoor. I was eight and my brother was ten, almost eleven, when we moved here. We never had bathing suits. Before we moved here, in the summers we stayed here with my grandfather. It's his house. He swam naked and we did to. No one cared, especially not Boris or me.”

“Your grandfather swam naked?” I asked, still worried by the concept.

I'd seen everyone in my family naked at one time or another, but it wasn't something that happened often. My brothers were most likely to roam around

after a bath before getting clothes on. It was no big deal.

Naked people worried me. Ivan sensed my discomfort, but he didn't put on pants. There were naked boys at the swing, but I wasn't from here, and guys like Purdy being naked made me nervous. I wasn't wearing enough to feel safe.

“We didn't always live here. My grandfather built this place in the 30s. He died when I was eight. My grandfather was a fisherman and he wanted to build a house on the Gulf of Mexico, where he could stay when he wasn't fishing. This is that house. He built it his way. It will withstand any storm.”

“Storm?” I asked. “Like thunderstorms?”

“Come on upstairs. I'll show you his room. It's my room now. The view is awesome, dude,” he said, opening a door next to the closet.

There was a staircase behind the door. It skipped the second floor and went directly to the third floor and the master bedroom that filled the top of the house. In the middle of the bedroom was a huge bed and just beyond the bed were two sliding glass doors opened to the outdoor deck I'd looked at from the beach.

“Come on,” he said, passing through white linen drapes.

It didn't quite take my breathe away, but Ivan's view was spectacular. I woke up to the gulf outside my double doors each morning, but the porch, and the screen were in front of it. It was like looking at a picture in a frame.

The unobstructed view, the color, the contrast between sky and sea was as beautiful as anything I'd ever seen, and from that height, I got a new perspective, with the horizon looking lower than the deck.

“Clay, meet my gulf. Gulf, Clay,” Ivan said, leaning his forearms on the gray railing that surrounded the gray deck that was connected to the faded gray house. “I believe you're acquainted with my beach.”

Was I ever.

Chapter 5

Ivan World

As we stood on the deck outside of Ivan's third floor bedroom, nothing needed to be said. Ivan looked enraptured by his view. I certainly was. The gulls dove on the logjam, big white clouds drifted high above us, and the green water stretched as far as we could see.

This would be where Ivan and I spent time when we were in the house. Being there made the world seem peaceful, not to mention more beautiful than any Hollywood set. I forgot all my cares and woes while I was there with Ivan. We always had something to talk about or something to do.

Tulsa began fading in my mind the day Ivan took me into his house, along with Cal, Russ, and Bart. Lonely days were gone and I was finally at home. I didn't know Ivan. He didn't know me, but I'd never been more comfortable with anyone.

“I've been keeping an eye on you guys for the last week. I was at my mother's in Tampa since school let out. If I don't do what she wants, she won't leave me alone all summer.

“My brother Boris is there with her. That makes it better. He lived here with me until last summer. She finally talked him into moving in with her. Bribed him to move in with her. I do what I want mostly, when I'm not out with my dad.”

“Where's your dad?” I asked, knowing but not remembering.

“Pop took over my Grand Pop's fishing boat. He's gone fishing.”

“You told me that. Sorry.”

“Grand Pop fished until the day before he died. He went home not feeling well. He died in his sleep. He was a tough old man. Worked every day of his life since he was fourteen. Built this house mostly by himself. Some of the lines aren't perfectly straight, but he told me this house is built to withstand any storm.

“In hurricanes, I can lie here listening to the wind howling. This place creaks and moves with the wind, but it doesn't move much. I hear the wind but barely feel it inside.

“He was Lithuanian. All he wanted to do was fish. The Bolsheviks wanted to screw with him. So he came to America to fish.”

“Bolsheviks?”

“The Soviet Union is run by those guys.”

“Your grandfather escaped from behind the Iron Curtain?”

“No, that came after World War II. He left before the war.”

“Oh,” I said, remembering hearing something about a war. “He died in his sleep. That's the way to go.”

“That's what I was told. When he died, Dad moved us here. He was having a tough time of it, until he took over the fishing boat. He was a fisherman's son, but he couldn't be on the same boat with his father. They didn't see eye to eye.

“My mother hates the water, the sand, the silence. She was never happy in this house. Wouldn't come in this bedroom, because it was my grandfathers. I think she hated walking up the two flights of stairs. I think the water scared her.

“As quick as Boris and I decided to go swimming the first day, we left our clothes on the kitchen floor and ran to the gulf. My mother did like that either. It's the way we'd always done it. I was eight and Boris was ten, almost eleven.

“I don't remember my mother ever being on the beach. Before the end of the year we moved here, she drove off day and didn't come back. She moved to Tampa. That's two hours up the road, maybe two and a half.

“Boris and I were alone during the day and Dad began to come home at night. He'd be here from late at night to before daylight, when he'd go back out to fish. We slept in this bedroom and didn't know when Dad came in. We could have lived alone, except there was always food for us.

“While my mother was here, he'd go for two days and nights and come in for a night. He didn't have refrigeration at first. Had to come in after forty-eight hours. That's how long it took the ice to melt.

“We had school during the day, but we'd been staying here in the summer since I was too young to remember when. I hated when they came to get us. I loved being here with Grand Pop. He was one cool dude.

“You get the idea. Since I was eight, this is my home, except for when school lets out and my mother comes for me.”

“That's pretty neat. I mean how you live here by yourself. I love it here too.”

“I didn't say I lived by myself. Dad is home when he comes in. We go shopping, go for pizza, do father son things. It works for me.”

“I bet it does,” I said with envy.

“I miss Boris. He was my best friend all my life. He wanted me to go to Tampa too. I wasn't leaving Dad. My mother left us, and besides a big city didn't interest me. I thought Boris would come back after a few weeks. He never did.

“My mother fixed him up with the daughter of a woman she worked with. Boris found what he was looking for. Once he got a gander of the Tampa girls, he became a Tampa boy. Girls are fine, I guess. I like a lot of girls. I've never just liked one. Anyway, my mother moved and there was no one to tell me to put on my bathing suit. Not that I put it on while she told me to. Saves a lot of time dressing and undressing, you know.”

“Mama cuts the legs out of my jeans once they got holes,” I said.

“Yes, it is one way to do it,” Ivan said, looking me over, as he put his forearms on the railing that wrapped around the porch.

He kept looking at me like he thought I might confess to some secret or at least give him the lowdown on who I was. I didn't have much to tell him. I lived in Tulsa and just moved to Florida. Not much happened in between.

“It's beautiful up here,” I said. “It's peaceful. I have the same view. There's a porch and screen in the way of the gulf. I've got to go outside to really see it.”

“I was out here the night you passed to go to the river. I figured it was time we met. You do live on my beach. I'm the only one your age for miles. I watched you hang the tube on the tree when you came back from the swing. I decided to have some fun with you. I was sure you'd put it back when you discovered it had been moved, but you didn't. So I moved it back to where I first found it.”

“The swing?” I asked.

“You shouldn't go up there alone, Clay,” Ivan warned.

“You go alone.”

“It's my swing. Most of them are okay. Guys like Purdy are sadists. They'd watch you drown and bet on how many times you'd surface before you went down the last time.”

“Sadist?” I asked.

“He thrives on causing pain to others,” Ivan explained.

“Why aren't you afraid of him?” I asked. “You stood up to him. He's bigger than you, Ivan. He's a scary dude.”

“The guys with Purdy went to school with Boris, until a year ago. Boris boxes. He learned to box in a gymnasium near my mothers apartment, when he stayed with her, after she moved there. He takes me there when I'm in Tampa. Those guys know better than to mess with Boris, and they know if they cause me grief, Boris will want to talk to them.”

“You were right in his face, Ivan. You showed no fear,” I said.

“I can take care of myself. Purdy is mean, but he's also scared of his own shadow. You know he's scared when he keeps making a lot of noise.”

“What's that mean?” I asked.

“Purdy and my brother tangled. Purdy gave him some lip and Boris decked him. He's got a temper and a mean punch. That was a year ago. He did it in front of Purdy's best buds.”

“What did Purdy do?” I asked.

“Didn't want to fight Boris. He's not as stupid as he looks. Just mean.”

“That's funny. Boris is a tough guy?” I asked.

“He can take care of himself. He doesn't usually need to fight. People like him. He's got good friends,” Ivan said.

“He's like you?” I asked.

“No, not like me. I'm alone because I don't like anyone. I'm a kid. Boris is a man. We resemble each other but he got the looks. I hold my own, but he was my best friend. The kids at school are lame. They're silly. I prefer more than silly.”

“Why boxing? Isn't he afraid of getting his face beat up?”

“He was mesmerized by Cassius Clay in Rome in the 60 Olympics. Clay has a long reach and he glides around the ring like a dancer. Boris watched him whenever he was on television. The cameras loved him/ Boris copied his style.”

“Clay beat Liston. He's the champion of the world,” I said.

“He beat Liston in Miami. My mother took Boris to the fight.”

“You're kidding me? He saw it?”

“No. It's what Boris and I talked about while I was in Tampa. It was only four months ago. The gymnasium was filled this time. Brashous Casius beat the 'Ugly bear' and became Mohammad Ali. He get your attention yet?”

“He's a good looking man,” I said, picturing the 'Louisville Lip,' as Howard Cosell called him.

“I'm no match for Boris. He's bigger and stronger, probably faster. He's a boxer and I box. He hits me while I'm being dazzled by his moves.”

I laughed at Ivan admiring his brother. I'd never been friends with mine.

“By this time next year you'll belong to the beach, like I belong to it. I see how you love being here already. It's why I let you in. You're different, Clay.”

“I hope I'm here next year,” I said. “I hope I'm here next week.”

“Why wouldn't you be? Last man who took the conservancy job kept it for fifteen years. You'll see. Your father will like the pace of life on the beach. You'll finish growing up on my beach, Clay. Trust me. We might even finish together.”

“I'd like that,” I said. “I lived in Tulsa all my life.”

“Is it as pretty in Tulsa as it is here, Clay?”

I laughed at the idea.

“You kidding me? There's nothing in Tulsa. It's where I was raised. There's no color. Nothing to get excited about. No mysteries.”

“If this place doesn't excite you, you're probably not alive,” Ivan lament.

“Why'd you take up for me, Ivan?” I asked, getting to what I wanted to ask.

“You were in over your head. I don't like seeing people picked on. I don't like Purdy. You were scared. You were at my swing. I felt responsible for you.”

“Would he have hurt me, Ivan?”

“Yeah, he likes hurting weaker boys. Stay away from there. Boys I don't know go down there. Boris made the mistake of taking his friends there. I pick up beer cans all the time. I'm careful when I walk over there. Guys I know don't scare me, but I have no idea what guys I don't know might do.”

“I was lonely. I wanted a friend. There is no place else.”

“You come up on the wrong guys and Purdy'll seem like a choir boy.”

I had to think about that.

“Thanks. I forgot to thank you when you told me to get out of there.”

“Your welcome. Don't go back.”

I knew all I needed to know about Ivan. If I liked him before, I really liked him now. I'd never liked a boy I didn't know before, but I liked him the first time I saw him.

“I don't know anyone here.”

“You know me. You aren't alone any more. No one comes into my house I don't like. You're different, Clay. I knew that the first time I saw you. I figured we'd be friends, unless you know a reason why not. You do live on my beach.”

Without help from me, my eyes went right to where his shorts would have been, if he was wearing shorts. His eyes followed mine to where his black pubic hair shinned, what there was of it. It was all the hair there was except on his head. I'd never hung out with a naked guy before?

I was embarrassed that he caught my eyes in a place where I shouldn't have looked, but did.

“No. No reason,” I said, pulling my eyes back where they belonged.

“I had to go to my mothers. There was no point in introducing myself and say, 'I'll see you in a few weeks.' How lame can you get? Hi, bye. It's not me.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You're here now. I didn't mind waiting.”

*****

I had to talk about Ivan at dinner. I was delighted to know him. Everyone else had things to say at dinner. I'd been relatively quiet, since we'd come to Florida. I talked about Ivan's grandfather building the house next to the river and about his father being a fisherman. I bragged about his dive. I'd ask him to teach me once we became more familiar.

“Don't drown yourself, squirt,” John-Henry said, trying to be helpful.

“You be careful, Clay. Don't do anything foolish showing off,” Pop said, as he reached for the fried green tomatoes. “Where did you get the idea for these, Mother? Quite a taste treat.”

“I picked up an issue of Southern Living at the market. I wondered who bought the green tomatoes in the bins, and there was the recipe. I'm working on cheese grits for tomorrow. I'm afraid I burnt tonight's version. I'll melt the cheese before adding it to the grits next time.”

“You'll get the hang of it, Mother. Don't rush. I have a feeling we'll be here for a while.”

“Ivan said you would,” I said, wanting to get that out there to fish for a response that told me to begin getting comfortable here.

“What does Mr. Ivan know about my job?” Pop asked suspiciously.

“He said the last fellow that lived here and did your job was here for fifteen years. They treated him super. He left the conservancy to become the superintendent of maintenance for Hillsborough County schools. That's where Tampa is. Ivan said you'll like the pace of life on the beach.”

“I'm impressed. Your friend sounds like a fine fellow. Mother, we'll need to invite Clay's friend to dinner. I'd like to get a look at Mr. Ivan.”

“Me too,” John-Henry said. “Sounds like a regular Einstein.”

“How long have we been here? Clay finally made a friend? He's not imaginary is he, like those little creeps in Tulsa?” Brian shared.

“Clay's friends were perfect gentleman, Brian Norman Olson. Unlike you,” Mama said.

“Mama!” Brian complained.

“Serves you right. You might try to be as pleasant to be around as Clay,” Pop said.

“Don't worry, little brother, as soon as you get your foot out of your mouth, I've got a rawhide toy you can chew on,” John-Henry said.

“Mama!” Brian complained.

“Would you like to have Ivan to dinner, Clay?” Mama asked.

“You kidding? He'll love your cooking. His mom and pop don't live together. She lives in Tampa with his brother,” I said, coming short of blurting he lived mostly alone.

My Tulsa friends were always at my house, frequently eating with us. Thinking about them made me homesick. The beach was full of adventure and opportunities for fun. My friends would love it. We could have a ball together.

Mama came home early from work the following day and I was on my way out of the door and on the way to Ivan's.

Ivan was leaning on the railing, looking at the gulf, when I came into sight. He smiled right off and waved, which made me feel good. He acted glad to see me. I was glad to see him.

“Come on up. You know the way. Doors open,” he said.

“You go swimming?” I asked, as I stepped onto the deck beside him.

“Yeah, when I get up,” he said. “Gets the blood flowing.”

“What time was that?” I asked, wondering how late I was.

“I don't know. I don't have a clock,” Ivan said. “I swim at first light.”

“How do you know what time it is?” I asked, not wanting him to be late.

“Clay, look around you? Do you think about what you say?”

“Why are you asking me that?” I asked confused.

“I don't need a clock. I eat when I'm hungry. I sleep when I'm tired. I swim when I wake up, and I do whatever suits me regardless of what time it is, if I'm not working with my father.”

“Mama wants you to come to dinner,” I explained.

“I don't know Mama. I hardly know you. Do you know what time it is?”

“Shouldn't you go home and check?”

“No!” I said, thinking he was trying to get rid of me.

“Do you know where I live?”

“I'm here aren't I?” I said, having no idea where we were going.

“When and if, and that's a big if, I decide to take your mother up on her offer of a free meal, you come and get me when it's time to eat. Okay?”

“I can do that,” I said.

“Good. I won't have to buy a clock now.”

“So you'll come to dinner?”

“Want to check me for tattoos, smell of booze, that vacant stare, or to see if I'm a bumpkin?”

“My friends in Tulsa ate at my house a lot. I think its like that. I don't make friends with bumpkins,” I said, hoping I wasn't one.

He turned his head like he had a habit of doing, looking at me like he didn't know me. Then he smiled a pleasant smile. His eyes twinkled.

“No, I don't think you do,” he said, still smiling.

“Mama is the best cook ever, dude. You won't be sorry. I bet it beats Swanson's frozen chicken dinners.”

“Morton's,” he said. “I'll get to meet John-Henry, Brian, and Coleen, and your parents. Makes me feel guilty for not having a houseful of people to introduce you to.”

“How do you know their names? You missed Lucy and Teddy by the way.”

“My God, it's worse than I thought. You think all I have time to do is stand outside your house checking to see if I have all the names?”

“You knew who I was. You knew my name, come to think of it. How did you know my name?”

“That's been five, six days ago. You just getting around to me knowing your name, Clay?”

“You know my brothers' and sisters' names.”

“You know my brother's name. Seems fair,” Ivan explained.

“You told me your brothers' name. I never mentioned mine.”

“No, I don't recall you did. Pretty smart of me huh?”

“How did you know my name? How do you know so much about us?”

“You knew me,” he said smugly. “I saw the light of recognition in your eyes. You knew who I was, Clay. That horse rides in both directions, cowboy.”

“I saw you do that dive one time before Purdy was there,” I said.

“I'm pretty observant. I was at the swing a week or so before Purdy. Mother dropped me here while she visited a girlfriend. You weren't there. I knew everyone at the swing that day. They were all from school.”

“Shows what you know. I was in a bush fifty feet from the swing,” I said.

“A bush? You're pulling my leg?” he said, giving me a long careful look.

“I didn't know anyone. I heard the commotion. There was a bush on the riverbank. I peeked to see what was going on, and I saw this guy do the most incredible dive,” I said excitedly. “I almost let go of my bush in fact.”

“Me,” he said, still staring at me with the most beautiful smile.

“You saw him too?” I asked, sounding serious. “I wanted to be that guy's friend the first time I saw him.”

He laughed.

“You are my friend. You're a hoot, you know, cowboy?”

“I told you mine. Now you get to explain yourself. Fess up, Ivan. You been spying on us?”

“Want a soda?” Ivan asked. “I'm thirsty.”

“Sure,” I said.

We left the deck, bringing the drinks back up.

“Anyway, John-Henry and Brian stand out there bullshitting after dinner. You know John-Henry smokes out there?”

“He doesn't. Mama would skin him if she saw him with a cigarette.”

“Yeah, well, you tell John-Henry that he needs to pick up the butts he isn't smoking. He needs to make sure they're completely cold. If he doesn't, he'll burn this beach down as dry as it is this time of year.”

“You spy on us?” I asked, not liking the sounds of it.

“I walk in my woods and I can't help if I hear stuff. I hadn't left for my mother's when you guys came. I wanted to see my new neighbors.”

“Neighbors! It's a mile from your house to my house, remember? You walk down there naked? To my house? Where my mother and sisters live?”

“Cool your tool, Amos. They're safe. They can't see me. The path doesn't go all the way to the house. It just goes to within a few feet of coming out. I can pretty much hear everything if I don't breathe too loud.

“You guys moved onto my beach. You think I'm not going to check and see if you're Communist agents up to no good? You can't be too careful these days.”

“Your name is Ivan and your brother is Boris, and you're worried about the Olsons being Commies?”

“Not worried. It's something to do, Amos." Ivan said. “Like walking to the swing to take a couple of dives and see who's hanging out.”

“You walk through that jungle naked?”

“What jungle? There's a path at the front corner of my house. It goes right to the swing. Grand Pop put the swing up. I walk over a couple of times a week. It's a five minute walk on the path.”

“A path?”

“It's well worn after years of use. What took you so long, Amos?”

"So long?" I asked without understand the question.

"If you're a Sooner, seems like you didn't get here 'til later.”

“Very funny, Roscoe,” I said, impressed that he knew Sooners were from Oklahoma. “Everyone likes you, Ivan.”

“I'm a likable guy. I don't like many people my age. Boris is the only friend I had growing up. I got used to being around someone older and smarter than me. When I saw you at the swing, you had that deer in the headlights look. You obviously needed someone to bail you out. I figured we might make good friends, if you weren't too weird.”

“What a guy,” I said. “I sure am lucky.”

“While I think about it, tell your father to cut those trees back on this side of your house. We get a wicked storm through here, one of those trees is going to end up in your house. So you see, my going down there to spy on you guys allows me to save you a lot of grief later on. Think of me as your grounds inspector.”

“Our naked grounds inspector,” I said.

“I don't get much pay,” he said.

“You're a funny guy,” I said. “I'll tell my father you said so. There are storms beyond the afternoon thunder storms?”

“Hurricanes. That's what all the shutters on the older houses are for. We've only had one bad one since I've been here, but Grand Pop told me he's been through a couple of serious storms. We might not get a bad one for years. We might get one tomorrow,” Ivan said solemnly. “If you need help getting your shutters up, let me know. I can show you how the shutters work.”

“Tomorrow? Like in the morning?”

“Whenever the conditions are right. My old man knows when they're coming this way. He comes in when one is brewing. The Coast Guard alerts the boats within radio range. Tell them which way to go to steer clear of the blow.”

“I knew this place was too good to be true,” I said.

“They last a couple of days. It's wind and rain.”

“A couple of days. What happens until they're gone?” I asked.

“You hunker down, stay away from the water. Stay indoors if you're smart.”

“Great,” I said. “Sounds lovely. Before I die I do want to learn that dive,” I said. “I've never seen anyone dive like that. Better get that said before we get blown away.”

“Probably isn't the best idea to flatter me too much, Clay. I'm already pretty amazing. I might get stuck-up if you fill my head with sweet nothings.”

“I wanted to meet you but you disappeared before I got to talk to you. That's why I kept going up there.”

“You were going to forgo your bush to meet me? Now I'm really flattered.”

“I was. Then you were gone. I didn't think I'd see you again. Funny when you think about it. All the time you live next to the river I sit beside everyday.”

“Yeah, you could have just knocked on my door,” Ivan said.

“Why didn't I think of that?”

“I was standing on the deck when you were looking at my room the other night. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet. It's like that after I've been at my mother's. I need to decompress. Then, when I was ready, there you were, and here we are."

“Yes I am,” I said.

“I'm glad,” he said.

“Me too,” I said.

Chapter 6

Brother's and Other Strangers

Standing on the deck of Ivan's house had us close enough to touch. We didn't of course, but seeing him up close, being close to him was easy. Being with someone I didn't know should have been weird, but it wasn't. I felt like I knew Ivan. It was like we knew each other.

I'd seen him. I'd admired him, but besides our similar ages, we didn't have anything in common but the beach. I was from far away and he lived on the beach for years. None of it mattered, except we were the only two kids our age around.

I wasn't sure what to say next and I didn't want to make a fool out of myself. Not running my mouth was probably a good idea for the time being. Admiring his view and being happy about being with him was plenty for me, but I didn't want him to think I was a dufus.

"Do you like fishing?" I asked, thinking with all that water, it was a good question.

"Fishing? Sure. Come up one day and we'll go. My house is full of fishing gear. I always get busy doing something else, but I can clean and cook fish. We got a freezer full of fish. I'll bring some along when I come to dinner.”

“That would be cool. You've got to clean fish after you catch them?” I asked.

“They're living creatures. They've got innards got to come outward. If you don't want your fish tasting like fish doodoo, cleaning is recommended.”

“You cook? I don't know I could coax water to boil.” I said.

“I'd starve if I couldn't. Nothing fancy. Hot dogs, fish, hamburgers, fish, eggs and bacon. Fish. I can whip up a mean bowl of cereal. I'll show you one day.”

“Very funny,” I said.

“I try,” he said.

*****

I had a lot to think about on the way home from Ivan's. Being in the house before dinner was a hard and fast rule you didn't break. Mama took hours cooking each day, and we knew better than to be anything but enthusiastic. As usual, after six, she was busy as a bee when I closed the door behind me.

“Mama, am I fat?” I asked, stealing a pinch off the rump roast she'd just taken out of the over to cool.

“Fat? Clay, you aren't fat. Who gave you that idea?”

“Ivan is very thin. I mean, he's taller than me by some. I'm sure I weigh more than he does. Looking at him makes me feel fat. You sure I'm not fat?”

“There are different body types, dear. Fat is fat and you aren't fat. Since you've been here, I'm sure you've lost weight. You get more exercise here and you're growing up. I wouldn't worry about being fat.”

“One day I'm going to walk to the end of this beach. I walked for two hours one day, and as far as I could see, there was more beach.”

“Did you ask your friend if he'd like to come to dinner, Clay?”

“Yes, I did,” I said.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“Nothing definite.”

“Maybe his parents don't let him visit other boy's houses,” she said, putting the potatoes and green beans next to the rump roast.

I took another pinch of the rump roast and mother slapped my hand predictably. I thought of Ivan standing naked a few feet from our house listening to John-Henry and Brian talking.

“No, I don't think it's that,” I said. “I'll put these on the table, Mama.”

Ivan hadn't answered me, but the idea of him showing up naked and sitting down at our table gave me cold chills. Thinking of him standing naked a few feet from our house made me queasy. I didn't want to lose my friend before we became friends. One thing for sure, the Olsons did not go naked.

It was his beach and we were new here, but we were talking about my parents approving of him. I didn't know how to head off the trouble I saw coming, but for the time being, keeping Ivan out of sight seemed right.

My brothers and my father did most of the talking at dinner. They usually said something about how their day went. John-Henry always saw a girl who deserved to be mentioned at dinner. He didn't go into detail because Mama would have told him to stuff a biscuit in it.

Brian, on the other hand, complained he never saw such women on the section of beach he patrolled for trash. John-Henry said that Brian wouldn't know a beautiful woman if he tripped over her. According to John-Henry, it took a real man to appreciate a fine woman.

“All right, John-Henry,” mother said. “We don't need to discuss your libido at the dinner table.”

Father began coughing.

Coleen laughed boldly, as only she could, thinking all her brothers were sex crazed morons.

Teddy wanted to know what libido was, as he made a puddle in the middle of his mashed potatoes with the gravy.

“When you're John-Henry's age, you'll know what it is,” Mama said.

I went another route, unable to wait to grow up. I looked it up in the dictionary after dinner. John-Henry did talk about girls a lot. It was a preoccupation with him for a couple of years. He had girlfriends in Tulsa. He was forever coming in late and being grounded for it. He was too old to ground now.

Brian hadn't been nearly as girl crazy. He was a year and a world behind John-Henry in most departments. Teddy had little to say about girls. If he'd discovered any, he was keeping it to himself. Teddy wasn't all that curious about anything but ways to make money. Feed him and give him a place to sleep, and he was happy as a clam.

“Dad, Ivan told me you need to cut the trees back on the north side of the house. He says we get storms and they were close enough that one might fall onto the house.”

My father finished chewing and gave it some thought as he pictured that side of the house.

“Hurricanes,” he said almost under his breath. “They haven't had a bad one lately. They have pictures of the damage hurricanes have done in the past. Maybe not as bad as a tornado but a hurricane covers more territory.”

“He thinks those trees are close enough to fall on the house,” I repeated.

“I'll look it over, son, and thank Ivan. He sounds like a thoughtful young man. I'd like to meet him, Clay.”

“Very thoughtful,” I said. “Of course he's been here for years.”

“His father is a fisherman of note. So was his grandfather. The senior Mr. Aleksa built that house. It took him two years,” Dad said. “Not many folks lived on the beach at the time he built. He was a fisherman and worked the whole time he was building it.”

“How do you know so much about them?” I asked.

“The older commissioners at the conservancy knew the senior Mr. Aleksa. They know Ivan's father. He brings fresh fish to the conservancy. Nice fellow.”

*****

Each day, after Mama got home from work, I was on my way to Ivan's. A couple of times Mama had made food for me to take with me. The tuna salad and egg salad made great sandwiches. Ivan loved both.

“When you go to talk to that Manatee,” Ivan said a few afternoons later.

“Millie,” I interrupted.

“It's a manatee. You don't name wild creatures,” Ivan said.

“She's Millie to me. You don't name them,” I said.

“When you are down there, you hold onto the bank of the river like you're afraid you'll float away,” Ivan said. “You ever think that thing might bump you, causing you to lose your grip, and you'll end up drowning.”

“Millie wouldn't do that,” I said.

“Millie doesn't know she's Millie and she's a manatee. They're big clumsy creatures. Bumping you is a possibility. A bump from a thousand pound manatee can certainly ruin your day,” Ivan said. “What I'm saying is, I better teach you to swim and then you won't need to hold onto the shore.”

“Would you?” I asked, glad that he brought it up.

“Yes, wouldn't look good to have my friend drowned. We'll have a lesson this afternoon. That'll give you more confidence in the water. In a few days you'll swim better than your manatee.”

“Really?” I asked.

“No, but you'll know enough not to drowned.”

My first lesson had him walking me out into waist deep water, where I mostly held onto his arm as he tried to get me to listen to his instructions.

“If you panic, stand up, Clay. In water this salty it is hard to sink. If you relax and listen to me, I'll teach you to float first. Your body will stay on top of the water without you doing anything but keeping your lungs full of air. If you relax.”

“I'll take your word for it,” I said.

“You can't sink. Trust me,” he said, sounding certain.

I don't know how but I floated on the top of the water. It was calm and the swells were as gentle as they got. Feeling my body roll with the waves was relaxing. As long as Ivan kept his hand in the middle of my back, and I could feel him next to me, I was fine. I trusted Ivan even more now.

“That's it. Relax. Told you it was easy,” he said, as I turned to look at him and sank like stone.

“Okay, relax. I've got you,” he said.

I still didn't know how one hand could keep a hundred and ten pound boy from sinking, even after it did. It shouldn't be possible, but there I was floating along with the motion of the water. I think I could have fallen asleep.

Then when I turned my head to make sure Ivan was still there, he was standing maybe twenty feet away, as I bobbed like a cork. I promptly sank.

“Stand up, Clay,” he said, shaking his head at my panic. “Just float. You can't sink if you relax.”

“I just did,” I said.

“You didn't either. You forgot what I told you and got scared.

“It felt like I was sinking,” I explained.

“OK, you can float fine. The same is true on your stomach. By using your arms and legs to propel you, you don't float, you cut through the water.”

Ivan showed me explaining what he was doing. Using my arms and legs was confusing. Trying to remember which arm and which leg, and when to breathe, and how to turn my head were all things I learned, one at a time. As soon as I was getting one step down, he added another step. It looked easy. When I tried to do it, get all the steps where they belonged, I sank.

This wasn't a one lesson deal, even when we spent two hours at it the first afternoon. As the days passed, if I was at Ivan's, we'd go out in waist deep water and he'd go over the steps with me. It got easier but sorting out where each step went kept me busy.

I had no confidence that I was swimming even when he said I was. After starting to sink a couple of times, and having him close enough to grab, I realized he wouldn't let me drowned.

There was the knowledge that I could stand up and unsink. After doing it enough times, I felt awkward, but not like I was sinking. Figuring out how and when to breathe was tricky. I drank a lot of gulf water getting the hang of it, but not enough to drowned me.

It was a matter of practicing the technique and then I was able to propel myself without Ivan standing next to me. He still wasn't too far away. I was keeping myself on top of the water most of the time.

Being around all that water and knowing how to swim made it that much better. When I waded into the water I was able to do more than wade out again. Swimming turned out to be relaxing and fun. Learning to swim meant more time Ivan and I spent together. He loved to swim and I was now someone who was able to swim with him, if he wasn't in a hurry.

As I grew to enjoy swimming, I was humbled by Ivan's ability to glide through the water with no effort at all. For a hermit beachcomber bum, Ivan was as clever a boy as I'd known.

He still had to meet my parents and I still wasn't sure how to go about suggesting he wear clothes. He knew most stuff you needed to know to live there and telling him how to do something didn't appeal to me. Having my parents throw him out of the house didn't either.

By trying to duplicate the things he did, how he did them, I got better at the more physical aspects of the life we had. I felt better about myself because I did get better. By mid-summer that year Ivan had me climbing over the logjam to dive from the tip of the highest log, and racing him to shore. He didn't know we were racing, but I did.

Accepting Ivan did everything better than me made life easier. I did it my way and it was doing it that made the difference. Looking at the water, I had confidence the odds of it killing me were slim if I didn't act like a bozo. It gave me a greater appreciation for where I lived.

Babysitting began to cut into my time with Ivan. Even on days when relief didn't come until two or three in the afternoon, I'd be at Ivan's the first chance I got. I could usually find him on the deck sitting in one of the two wicker chairs reading.

I always asked what he was reading and he'd tell me. Putting a book mark in a suitable spot, he'd take it inside and put it on the table next to his bed. He read magazines that told him what was going on in the world. He'd show me the cover to let me know what it was. It was never anything I read, because I didn't

read anything when I wasn't in school.

The other activity he was super at, shooting baskets. One day when I came from babysitting, I heard the basketball bouncing at the corner of his house. Ivan told me he shot hoops to relax. He showed me how it was done, which shouldn't be confused with how to do it.

I felt particularly inept with a basketball in my hands. Not because I couldn't hit the hoop. I couldn't hit the backboard. I ended up under the basket, tossing the ball back to Ivan, after it went through the hoop, dropping at my feet.

No matter where he stopped on the concrete, he could turn and shoot the ball through the hoop. At times it hit the rim and bounced away, but the majority of time, it went through the hoop. I didn't mind throwing it back to him.

I couldn't wait to get to Ivan's each day, where we weren't hobbled by adult intervention. Mama noticed the growing number of lengthy absences after I made a new friend.

“What do you two do all day,” she asked, checking the clock when I came in.

“Swim, play basketball, collect shells, and roam the beach. He doesn't have a television. He reads. I like watching the birds and wildlife around the river.”

“Sounds like a smart kid,” Mama said.

A week or ten days into the budding friendship, Mama decided to throw a monkey wrench into the deal, when she told me she was working all day for the next week, and I would need to be in the house for Lucy.

“Aw, Mom, I've got things to do.”

“You do plenty of things. I need you to help a little. I'll be working full days this week and I've got you to babysit. Have Ivan come down here. We still have hopes of meeting him.”

“Told you, he's imaginary,” Brian said. “There is no Ivan. Has anyone at this table seen Ivan? No. See. Imaginary friend.”

“Your brain is imaginary, Brian,” I said.

“Mama!” Brian complained.

“You ask for it. Why are you surprised when you get what you ask for?” Mama explained for the umpteenth time.

“I've got things to do, places to go,” I said, not wanting to spend less time with Ivan.

“You'll be here all day for the rest of the week,” Dad said without needing to raise his voice to give me the picture. “Don't argue with your mother. Consider yourself restricted to the house until I tell you different. Am I clear?”

“He's going to think I've deserted him, Dad.”

“He's in the next house. I'm sure if he's concerned, he can walk all the way down here and see you, Clayton. You have responsibilities here. There is no point arguing.”

“I'm supposed to get off at two o'clock the last two days of this week. I'll come home to relieve you so you can play with your friend,” Teddy offered.

“Cool,” I said. “He'll think I've lost interest in being his friend by then.”

Teddy had gone to work at the Wynn Dixie as a bag boy. John-Henry and Brian were Dad's help in keeping the beaches clean.

I went to my room after dinner, having become the antisocial angry young man at the Olson house. Just as Ivan and I were sealing the friendship deal, my parents get in the way. They didn't understand me or my need to develop one friendship.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, not even bothering to put on the latest Johnny Cash album John-Henry bought and left in my room once he'd heard it. I wasn't in the mood for music. My life had gone way off key.

I was angry a lot back then. My friend was up the beach and I was on babysitting duty. It was a breeze babysitting in Tulsa. My friends came over and we played cards and board games with Lucy. Ivan couldn't come over the way he dressed, or didn't dress. I cringed when I thought he might come looking for me.

Ivan hadn't come near my house, except when he was lurking out among the trees. I was strangely appreciative of that fact, but I missed the only friend I had and I'd left his house an hour before.

How long did it take to become unfriendly? I was sure you had to see each other once in a while to keep a friendship on track.

Ever since being torn out of Tulsa, my life had been ruined. Just as I had something to do and someone to do it with. Getting grounded for presenting my case too emphatically at the table was stupid. Maybe my parents weren't ruining my life, but they weren't making it easy on me.

I could call Ivan if he had a phone, and smoke signals were out. There was the whole burn down the beach thing. There was nothing to do but wait my parents out and go to Ivan's the first chance I got.

*****

I thought about Russ coming over at daybreak on my last day in Tulsa. He was waiting in the living room when I came down stairs. He had the longest face I'd ever seen. We both knew our lifelong friendship was at an end. We were no longer going to see each other every day. We might never see each other again. As hard as it was on me, it was harder on him. Russ depended on me a lot.

"Why didn't you come up stairs?" I asked.

"I didn't want to wake you up. You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I answered haplessly. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

It went downhill from there. His eyes were red and he sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Russ wasn't that sensitive. Cal, yes, but Russ never showed emotion before. I hadn't given any thought to how my friends would take my absence. They had each other. I had no one. Just their being together would remind them I was missing. I wouldn't have a constant reminder. I'd just be alone. I didn't know which was worse, and seeing Russ reminded me it wasn't happening to just me.

"Cut it out, Russ. It's not that bad."

"Yeah, it is. I've never done anything without you," he said sadly.

"Barbara, Nancy, Roseann? Let me count the girls, Russ."

"They're girls," he protested. “It's not the same as a best friend.”

"Yeah, and a lot more interesting than me lately."

"Girls require upkeep. You never did," he said, following me back upstairs.

"Thanks. I always knew you cared, Russ."

"You know what I mean," he said. “We're a team. Girls aren't part of that.”

"Where's Cal and Bart? I figured they’d come over early," I said.

"Sleeping. They don't want a long goodbye.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” I said.

"It won't be the same without you. I could always depend on you. I was the first one here every day," Russ said, forgetting Bart was always first.

"Well, one of your girlfriends will give you your cereal and toast."

"Cut it out, Clay. You know I get along best with you. We're best friends. Cal and Bart are our friends. We were friends first. We lived here before they did."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Cal will look out for you. It's not my job any more. You've got each other if you stick together, Russ."

"I wish I could go with you. With four brothers, my parents wouldn't miss me until Christmas, when they'd have presents leftover."

"Maybe you can come visit. We're going to live on a beach. Too bad I don't know how to swim."

"That would be great. I've never been out of Oklahoma," Russ said with enthusiasm.

"We'll keep in touch. Your parents might let you come visit for a few weeks one summer. One more in our house won't be noticed. You're always here now."

“Yeah, that would be cool. You can introduce me to the girls,” Russ said.

“Yeah, Russ, all I'll have to do is get you dates. You're hopeless.”

“I know. Once I go out with a girl, they ignore me. I'm nice, aren't I?”

“You need to get to first base before you try to hit a homer, Russ.”

“You think that's it? Could be. Girls are funny.”

“Lots of boys around,” I said to get a rise out of him.

“Boys? Girls might be weird, but I'm not,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.”

I smiled, drifting back from Tulsa. The memories were crystal clear to me. Florida may have been beautiful, but I was never lonely there.

I'd have been okay if I hadn't run my mouth too much. I knew better. My family had real difficulties, my complaints were small potatoes. Mama had little say over her schedule. I was and would be the built in babysitter. Why did we have to move anyway?

In Tulsa it was predictable. Cal and Bart came the last hour, looking quite sad. Each had a hug to give me. Cal cried. I knew he would. That started Russ crying again. Bart and I fought back tears, looking at each other but afraid to speak for fear of losing control. What was there to say?

Then my father said it was time to get into the car, and my family and I drove away from my friends and everything I knew. As we left the curb, I watched them disappear in the back window of the station wagon. Russ hugged Cal and they cried as they watched me driving out of sight and out of their lives. We thought we'd see each other again. We pledged we would, but we never did.

I didn't expect to make friends like that again. I no longer wanted close friends. The pain involved in giving up my friends was as bad as pain gets. It's the way it was as the story of my life turned the page to write the next chapter.

The anger over leaving Tulsa stayed with me, until I let go of it at the dinner table. When my developing friendship with Ivan was waylaid by my selfishness, I feared getting too close to him. I feared not being able to get close enough.

None of us liked moving away from Tulsa. It was better than ending up on the street. How embarrassing would that be in a place where everyone knew who we were? The people we knew would have said, “So sad about the Olsons.”

These were my thoughts during the days my mouth got me grounded. One night as I sulked in my room, Dad came to my bedroom on his way to bed, knocking softly on my door.

He wanted to talk. I was still mad at him, but I knew better than to show him any disrespect. He'd ground me until I was twenty-one. He usually allowed me to stew in my own juices for a few days before ending my punishment.

“You've had plenty of time to think,” he said from the foot of my bed. “No one was excited about moving, Clay. We're a family and families stick together. “You can go back to doing what you like, after your mother gets home from work tomorrow. That doesn't mean you can be late for dinner, and you need to be in by dark if we allow you to go out after dinner. Otherwise you can do as you like.”

He looked away from me, taking an uncharacteristic deep breath.

“I'm sorry I wasn't able to stay in Tulsa, son. It was no picnic for any of us. This is the best I can do right now. You'll have to be satisfied with it.”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry I mouthed off. I know no one wanted to move.”

“I'm glad you don't blame me, but you need to apologize to your mother. She is working hard to keep us fed and babysitting Lucy is a big help to her. We depend on you, Clay. We depend on each other.”

“I know. My mouth gets in the way of my brain sometimes. It's not like I want to cause trouble,” I said. “I can't help it, Dad.”

“I do remember what it's like being a boy, Clay. Running your mouth when you shouldn't is part of growing up and feeling your oats. Your mother thinks you think we failed you. We didn't set out to ruin your life, son. Things happen. A family sticks together in good times and bad. We'll be fine if we stick together.”

“I'll apologize to Mama. I'm sorry I shot my mouth off.”

At dinner the next night I apologized to Mama and everyone at the table for my outburst. I'd already decided that I'd stay in that day and wait until the next morning to go to see Ivan and explain things.

Mama smiled and said, “It's water under the bridge, dear. Eat your beets.”

I ate them with a smile. I never got beets. Who eats beets?

Mama then announced to the family that she'd enrolled Lucy in Vacation Bible School. She'd take her on her way to work in the morning and pick her up on her way home at lunchtime, when she was off for the rest of the day.

Lucy was turning ten and was delighted to be going to where she'd have other girls her age to play with. Mama rarely went back to work after lunchtime, and my days would belong to me.

I would head to Ivan's as soon as I got up the next morning.

Chapter 7

Family Planning

My old friends didn't run through my dreams that night. Ivan did, until I became aware of someone in my bedroom as the early morning light took hold.

“What?" I said, knowing better than to get smart with Brian.

"He's been out there since I got up. Just standing there looking at the back of our house. He's got to be yours. I don't know anyone that skinny."

"Who?" I said, sensing a joke coming.

"Tall, skinny, freaky looking, dude; skimpy bathing suit from when he was maybe nine. You think he's a burglar waiting for us to leave?"

"Dark hair?" I asked, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. It was eight-thirty eight according to the old clock on the wall.

"Yeah, black hair. Kind of wild looking. How do you figure someone got that tall without gaining any weight?" Brian reasoned. "You better go down. He's watching me watch him. If he's a burglar, tell him we don't got nothing to steal."

“What are you doing home? Shouldn't you be working?” I said, as I considered his presence in my double doors that led to the porch.

“Pop's got a meeting. He'll come get us when it's over. I'm used to getting up. I couldn't sleep. Good thing too. No telling what he might steal.”

I moved up beside Brian. The yard was still in shade, but there he was standing on the beach, looking at me looking at him. I waved.

"That's Ivan. He's my friend," I said. "Thanks for getting me up, Brian."

"Figured he was yours. I hope he's nothing like those weirdos you played with back home."

"Shut up. He's not a burglar. I was grounded. He's come to see where I've been,” I said, with only a hunch to go on.

"Skinny as a rail and I've seen fatter rails. You think we should feed him?"

I pulled my shorts on over my boxers and headed for the porch and the stairs that ran down the side of the house, crossing the backyard to the beach. I was doing double time, stepping on sand-spurs, which made me hop in circles trying to get those suckers out of my tender feet.

What did he want? Why was he here? He stood fastened to one spot, watching my progress. My sand-spur dance amused him.

"Hey, Clay. How's it hanging?" Ivan asked.

"It's hanging fine. I would have called but you don't have a phone. I was grounded. What are you doing down here?” I said, checking out the tiny red suit.

"Nice to see you, too, dude. I was just passing by and I remembered your address. You were at my house every day last week and I haven't seen hide nor hair of you since. I wondered you drowned. I feel a certain responsibility for you. I taught you to swim and all."

“I was grounded. I'd have come up to tell you, but I was grounded.”

“Bummer, dude. What did you do?”

“Mouthed off,” I said, rubbing my foot to get the final sticker out of it.

“You haven't learned to kick back yet? It don't pay to piss off your parents, dude. You only make it harder on yourself.”

“I know that. I just lost my head. I didn't expect to see you down here. I was going to your house and go swimming with you when I got up,” I said. “Where'd you get that swimming suit?”

“It's my mothers bottoms for something she bought and never wore. I swam at first light. Then I figured I'd walk down here to see if you were OK. I put this thing on so you didn't have a coronary. I don't usually wear lady things. Not good for my image.”

“Doesn't leave much to the imagination,” I said.

“It's not to stop anyone from imagining anything they like. I figure if I'm going to be seen by adult type folks, I need to hide my business, not wanting them to get the wrong idea. You think this suit gives anyone the wrong idea?”

“It may hide your business, but not much else,” I said. “Good thing you aren't hairy or too big.”

“I'm plenty big. Too big is in the eye of the beholder. I'll take it off if you want. I only wore it for you,” he said, sounding serious. “I'm sure my mother didn't buy it with me in mind.”

“That's okay. I like it. Red's your color and my brother's watching us. No point in letting his imagination get the best of him. I want my parents to meet you before my brothers start spreading rumors.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Ivan said unconvinced. “You're up at my house every day and then you disappear. I thought I might have pissed you off.”

“No. You're fine. We're fine,” I said, surprised my absence concerned him.

“You going to invite me in?” Ivan asked. “I've been looking at that house for years and I've never been inside.”

“No, my brothers are home.”

“Which one is the muscle head?” Ivan asked.

“The muscle head is Brian. He thinks you're a burglar. He told me you were here.”

“I love him too. What, he a bouncer?”

“A football player. He lifted weights at school. It's what football players do.”

“Can't wait to meet them. He sounds adorable.”

“Believe me, you won't miss much if we go to your house. They're okay as brothers go, but they're barely housebroken. They don't like my friends.”

“How many you got? I thought I was the lucky first friend in Florida.”

“You are. They didn't like my friends in Tulsa,” I explained. “They don't like me. It's nothing personal.”

“What was wrong with them?” Ivan asked.

“Nothing?” I objected. “They were my age is all.”

“Good. I ought to pass then. I'm more likable than the average fourteen year old, but I'll fake it like I'm not if you want?”

“You're crazy,” I said, laughing at his bragging.

“Probably,” Ivan said. “I figure you don't know many folks, since you told me you didn't, so I decided I'd stop to say hello. See if maybe you wanted to come out and play. You know, act like we're friends or something."

"I did walk up there Friday. You weren't home," I said. “Then I got grounded and couldn't come up. I think I was angry because you weren't home and I shot my mouth off.”

“You went into my house when I wasn't there, dude?”

“Yeah, you always tell me to come on upstairs. I went to see if you were in bed or in the kitchen. Not like I didn't do it every day last week.”

“Yeah, I do say come on up, but I'm home when I say that.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Another case of me not thinking. I wanted to see you.”

“It's cool. I'm pulling your leg. It's easy to pull. You Sooners don't kid a lot, do you? Every time I'm joking, you take me seriously.”

“I don't always know what you're talking about,” I said.

“Just remember things in Florida are laid back, Clay. It's because there isn't a lot to take seriously here. People are too serious in general. Leads to heart attacks, you know.”

“It does?” I said, feeling like I wasn't keeping up.

“That is an opinion you don't have to take seriously, dude.”

“Oh,” I said. “I don't always know how to take you, Ivan.”

We ended up at his house. He led the way into the kitchen.

“Want a bowl of Sugar Crisp? There might be a box of Wheaties if you don't like Sugar Crisp. I like Sugar Crisp.”

“Sugar Crisp is fine,” I said. “How'd you know I didn't have breakfast?”

“Good guess. You didn't comb your hair. You're usually neat. I figured you pulled on your clothes to run down to intercept me before your brothers got a good look at me.”

“Brian got a very good look at you,” I said. “He's harmless, but I want my parents to meet you before he starts talking about you. His views are warped and he particularly dislikes my friends.”

“You're all blond?” Ivan inquired, as he considered the cereal.

“Lucy has red hair. Mama said her hair was red until she was in her twenties, and then it turned blond. I wonder if my hair might turn red?”

“Brian lifts weights? He looks like it,” Ivan said. “What's he do.”

“He roams the beach at Sanibel and picks up trash,” I said.

“I don't go there much. They keep it clean. Makes it nice, but too many flatlanders are coming here and leaving their garbage. I don't know what they're thinking. You don't leave your trash on a perfect beach. I don't anyway.”

“They create a job for my brothers. I guess I should be grateful we aren't living in our car,” I said.

“I see them as typical selfish a'holes. Folks who demand access to beautiful places but feel no obligation to help keep it clean,” Ivan said.

“Those bozos visit Tulsa too,” I said.

“Say when,” Ivan said, as he poured my cereal bowl full to overflowing.

“That's plenty. My stomach hasn't gotten up yet,” I said, as he poured milk on top and a third of the cereal dropped out of the bowl onto the table.

“That's why I swim first,” Ivan said. “By the time I get to my cereal bowl, I'm starved,” he said. “Nothing like fresh air and exercise to build an appetite. Let's go up to my room. I like eating on the deck. I feel trapped down here.”

We carried the bowls up the stairs and stood looking out at the calm green sea. I watched Millie swimming against the flow of the water.

“Is something wrong, Clay?” Ivan asked, setting his bowl to one side once he emptied it. “Why the long face? It's time to let go of Tulsa, dude. I don't want to sound mean, but you aren't in Tulsa any more, Clyde.”

“I've been thinking about my friends. I miss them a lot. While I was grounded, I thought about the things we did together. We were together all the time for as far back as I can remember.”

“You guys going to move back to where you came from?”

“Tulsa,” I reminded him.

“You going to move back there?” Ivan persisted.

“No, I think we're here for good. Dad likes the job. The money isn't what he wants, but Mama's working and he's got my brothers helping him.”

“Quit thinking about what was. Times they are a changing for everyone, man. You've got to groove to your new life now. It's tomorrow, Clay. Yesterday has come and gone. You can let it eat at you or let it go.”

“What's that mean?”'

“Wait a minute. I want you to listen to something special,” Ivan said, going into his bedroom.

After he turned on the record player, I heard the needle find the record. I couldn't tell if the record was scratchy or if the singer was.

“What's that?” I asked, when Ivan came back onto the deck.

“Sh! Listen.”

The singer wheezed and scratched his way through some strange lyrics. I did catch the, 'better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone,' and thought it applied to me, but the rest of it was vague. The voice could pass for country but maybe not. It was new to me.

“Can we talk yet?” I asked, as the singer sand, 'He lived on the outside of town, Hollis Brown” began droning from the record player.

“Sure,” Ivan said.

“I better start swimming or I'll sink like a stone,” I said. “That for me.”

“It's an allegory. It's a story about the way things are changing. “Come gather 'round people wherever you roam and admit the waters around you have grown,” Ivan sang.

“I don't get it. Does that mean here? Lots of water. Does water grow?”

“Well, you had to roam to get here, didn't you? And there is a lot of water, but no, that's the first verse that wants us to think about where we are and what's up. It's not drowning in water. It's drowning in obstacles put in place to keep the people off balance, confused, so we don't know what's really going on.”

“I'll take your word for it,” I said. “Why not just say it the way you did. I think I understand what you said.”

“Dylan writes songs that make people think,” Ivan said.

“Johnny Cash writes songs too. I think about those,” I replied.

“Probably,” Ivan said. “But Dylan is different. He is an advocate for the young. His message is for us to open our eyes and ears to what's going on.”

“Sounds like he could be country,” I said. “Not the lyrics though. I don't get the lyrics. Not much swimming in country music, you know.”

“You will. We'll all get Dylan one day. He speaks to us, Clay. He's speaking to you. Your entire life has changed, hasn't it.”

“Yeah, but what's it got to do with 'standing in the doorway and blocking the hall,' dude?”

“Everything, dude. Don't you get it? It's symbolic and not to be taken literally. That's how my music teacher put it. He called Dylan a muse. His words we come to mean more to us in time. We need to listen to him. He's a profit.”

“I reckon if you say so. What do you mean by literal for instance in this instance?”

“The literal meaning is the meaning as it's written. When it's said to demonstrate something other than the obvious, you can't take it literally. There is a deeper meaning. Men standing in doorways or blocking halls are doing it to hide something. Dylan believes the power structure is self-serving. We aren't allowed to see or know what's really happening. People standing in the way of truth and progress would be the symbolic meaning.”

“How do you know?” I asked, trying to get to where Ivan was. “What if it means what it says?”

“It makes no sense if you don't analyze the words. Our music teacher had a discussion on it. We don't know what Dylan is thinking, but we can analyze what he's saying. There is a lot of talk about what certain lines mean. He's been putting out records for a couple of years. Dylan doesn't explain his lyrics. He claims it's music and nothing more. That's how I know there's more to it than meets the eye. Dylan is talking to us, dude.”

“Because he says there is nothing mysterious in his lyrics,” I said. “You think there is?”

“Partly, but when you read the lyrics, it becomes obvious there is a meaning to the way he uses his words. “Better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone?” Ivan sang. “If you don't start doing something to learn about what's going on, it will be too late to do anything about it. We won't be able to do anything to rescue ourselves. Drowning is serious business. It's a metaphor.”

“It is?” I asked, afraid I'd sound stupid no matter what I said..

“We need to keep an eye on our leaders. We're the people and they're not representing us. We should find out what they're up to and why.”

“I'll take your word for it,” I said, not seeing the words the way he did.

“What can we do about it? They're the leaders.”

“Be aware of it?” Ivan said. “Democracy means the people get the last say.”

“We're kids. What can we do?”

“We'll grow up. Dylan makes me think about his lyrics. That's a good thing. A lot of people are talking about him. I heard about him from other people. His music is different. It's not about puppy love and high school dances. If 'The Times They Are A-changin' doesn't describe your life, Clay, I don't know what does. Dylan is speaking to you, dude.”

“You think so?” I asked.

”Your father lost his job. He took a job here because there was no work there. You left where you lived and relocated. You met moi, and your entire life has changed. Hasn't it?”

“Moi who?”

“Moi me,” Ivan said. “It's French, and I'm as much change as anyone needs.”

“Why not say me?” I asked.

“Do you take everything so seriously?” Ivan asked, sounding worried.

“I suppose I do,” I said.

“You need to lighten up, dude. Life's about learning. Life's about meeting people who teach you things you don't know. Life is a great exploration we get to direct ourselves.

“You need to let go of Tulsa and be in Florida. It's where you are, dude. You can't go back. Be here. It's where I am. How cool is that, man?”

Ivan made me think all right, but I didn't understand most of what he was talking about. Dylan was okay, I guess, but I liked Johnny Cash. He didn't sing in code and make you think about his lyrics.

“Everyone had different favorite things. Ivan didn't insist I think like him, but he did want me to think about things I hadn't thought about. He was explaining how he thought. I knew I thought. I didn't pay much attention to it. I had plenty of time to decide what to think about “Times they are A-changin.”

If I forgot about Tulsa, wasn't I forgetting my entire past? I got that life had changed for me. I don't think Dylan knew anything about it.

Dylan needed to say what was on his mind. Maybe I'd understand then. I listened to music for fun, not as a school project. Now I would think about the words Dylan sang, because Ivan did. I'd go along with him to keep up with him.

My parents were still asking for me to invite Ivan to dinner. I did once, but I didn't know what he'd look like when he showed up at my house. I couldn't tell him he had to wear clothes, but I'd be the one who got the short end of the stick if he showed up without any, or in his mother's underwear.

At his house it was fine. I didn't care. My shock over seeing someone naked had worn off. Yes, it still worried me, but as long as we were at his house, it wasn't up to me to tell him what to wear. Why I thought about it at all was weird. I wanted Ivan as a friend and I'd take him as is.

How in the world would I explain that to my parents? I might need to forget Tulsa, but no one went naked in Tulsa, and I doubt my parents were going to overlook that little factoid.

Ivan was likely to have enough common sense, having as much to lose as me in the friendship department, never crossed my mind. No matter how smart I knew he was, I was fourteen and conditioned to see any threat as a possibility to be consider. If Ivan wasn't always naked, I wouldn't have worried at all.

In my defense, I'd been raised elsewhere. I didn't need to think about the way things were. They just were that way. No thinking was required. The idea I would have to start thinking now was going to take some work.

Why didn't Dylan mind his own business anyway?

*****

I usually came home from Ivan's in time for Mama and Lucy to get home. Mama ate lunch, leaving a platter of sandwiches and snacks behind, if she needed to go back out again. I was on call to stay with Lucy when necessary.

I stayed out of Mama's way when her time was limited. After playing with girls her age at Bible School, Lucy was ready to give her big brother a run for his money playing rummy or Monopoly. I played with a smile. I wasn't about to complain again.

Dylan might call that a loss of my ability to express myself.

Lucy and I were the only two kids who got along. She was too young to think of insulting me. I was responsible for her and I took that seriously. I didn't tell her what to do or boss her around, and she didn't beat me too badly at rummy.

She didn't require much supervision. We both liked cards and boardgames and that gave us something to do when we were together. Lucy had become too smart for me to snooker any longer, so she won the games half the time, and when that bored her, she went off to read or play with her dolls.

As long as Ivan was up the beach, there was hope. I think we were both in the same boat, even if we were from different planets. I felt we'd close the gap between us. I'd listen to Dylan and let him take me fishing. Ivan knew everything about Florida and I wanted to learn.

After dinner one night I was listening to Johnny Cash. John-Henry hadn't bought any albums since before we left Tulsa, but there were quite a few he already had and brought with us. Listening made me homesick again.

I thought of Russ sitting on my bed, listening to the music with me. Russ was always at my house. He had more brothers than I did. I wondered if they treated him mean. He was away from home.

Since I felt good about listening to Johnny Cash, and I felt bad thinking about my friends in Tulsa, I stopped thinking about them. When they came to mind, I pushed them out, letting Johnny Cash take me away from there.

*****

Chapter 8

Eatable Charmer

“When do I get to see inside your house?” Ivan asked.

“You come to dinner, Ivan. I can't keep telling my parents that you are thinking about it. Now that Brian has seen you, he'll talk about what he saw at the dinner table. Times up.”

“You referring to my choice of under garments? I don't think he knew they were the bottoms to my mother's bathing suit, which, incidentally, she never wore. I'm limited here. It isn't like there is a Sears just across the river, and Frankly, your brother didn't look that smart, Clay.”

“He's not. That's the problem. He will run his mouth. I'll show you the house but you need to agree to come to dinner and not wear your Mama's frilly things if it can be avoided. Times up, Ivan.”

“You might be relieved to know that my mother didn't wear frilly things. What I want to see, and it's a subject of conversation around our fair beach, is where old man Broadmore hung himself. I've always been curious about that.”

“Who did what, where?” I asked, set back by this little factoid.

“The fellow who had that house built. The fellow's money that created the conservancy, hung himself in the staircase of that old house. Tied a rope to the chandelier and vaulted off the second floor. The servants found him swinging there. My Grand Pop told me the story, so I know it's true.”

“In my house?” I asked.

“That is the house owned by the conservancy?” Ivan asked/

“Broadmore owned it. He hung himself there. That's how the conservancy got created.”

“You've got to be kidding me?” I said. “Tell me you're kidding me.”

“He obviously took life a tad too seriously. All that money and he doesn't bother to spend it.”

“When you come to dinner, which you've got to do this week, we won't be mentioning bodies hanging in our foyer. I doubt my mother or sisters would appreciate that little factoid.”

“Whatever you say, Amos. but I bet your father knows all about it by now. He works for the conservancy.”

“You're probably right. He hasn't said anything,” but Pop wouldn't. “The specter of a body swinging from the chandelier is a bit gruesome.”

“Wanting to see the place where he did it, is gruesome. A body hanging from you chandelier is downright untidy.”

“Once I've seen where the old boy hung himself, mums the word. I'm not completely totally warped, yet.”

Ivan proved true to his word. He didn't take anything too seriously. He was quick with a joke and he found humor in everything. I had a lot of anger about everything and didn't see the humor as readily as my friend did.

He listened to me, which made me feel good. He spent a few minutes digging in his closet and came up with a pair of balled up jeans and put them on. We'd go to see where that guy hung himself, getting that out of the way. Brian had seen Ivan from a distance, this would be his closeup look.

By the time we went in the backdoor, the house was empty. I took him through to the staircase. For the first time I really looked at the chandelier. It was massive. There were no windows in that part of the house and the light switch turned on that chandelier. This was just beyond the front door and entrance hall.

“That's it. That's where he hung himself. You can feel the heavy vibes in here. Spooky, huh?” he said, staring up at where the rope had to be tied.

“Not until right now it wasn't,” I said, not wanting to think about it.

“Makes you wonder what he was thinking,” Ivan thought out loud.

“No,” I said. “I it doesn't.”

“Think about it. This guy is loaded. He's got more money than God. What was so bad he couldn't just buy a new car and fly off to Paris wouldn't cure.”

“Wouldn't he need a plane for that?” I asked, using logic.

“You always buy a car when you're miserable. It's what I'd do,” Ivan said.

“Maybe he was sick and decided a quick exit was easier,” I said, using logic.

“Never thought of that. Thanks for the tour, Amos.”

When we went out the backdoor to go to his house, he took off running. He dashed across the yard and onto the beach, turning toward his house. A few hundred yards up the beach he was strolling along like he didn't have a care in the world. He was carrying the jeans and had gone back to his natural state.

“How can you wear those things?” he asked, when I caught up. “My nut sack feels crushed. I can't stand being all bound up like that.”

In Oklahoma all bound up was called, putting your pants on, but that was a can of worms I didn't want to open. Ivan was Ivan and I needed his friendship. I wasn't going to insist he do things like they were done in Oklahoma.

*****

I had the same three friends for my entire life. We did the same things together. Our lives were predictable, until my father came home and told us his job ran out and we had no money to speak of. Hard times had come to the Olson family. The people who made the jobs were out of work too. There were none.

Pop spent a month looking for work, never letting on to his kids, and he found nothing paying enough to support his family. Then he told us bills were due and the money was running out fast.

A few days after preparing the family for the worst, he came home with the offer of a job and a house in Florida. We sold everything we couldn't carry, and we had enough money to get to our new home. When life went bad, we were helpless. The next thing we knew, we were on our way to a new world.

Florida was an incredible place to live. It's what allowed me to make the transition from a life I knew and liked to a lonely one on the best beach in the world. When I first saw Ivan, I was mesmerized. I'd never met a kid like him and I'd never meet another kid who came close.

I was alone. Then there was Ivan. The more I saw him, the more I liked him. There was nothing predictable about him. I didn't know what to expect, and it was fine with me. I was in a new world and my life had changed.

*****

As we walked up the beach, I wondered if he'd decide we weren't suited to be friends. I couldn't believe he wanted to be friends with me. I'd make the most of it. School would start soon. There would be other kids. I no longer cared if they liked me or not. I wanted Ivan to like me. He wasn't a regular kid. That could have been what attracted me to him. What he saw in me, I didn't know.

He had come to my house to see why I hadn't been to his house. He was literally, the boy next door, even if his house was a mile away. Ivan kept me off balance. It didn't take much energy to adapt.

*****

In his kitchen, while he got us sodas, he explained the plan.

“My mother wants me to go to some work related picnic tomorrow. She'll come and get me early. She'll take me straight to the barber, thinking she'll tame the wild child. She'll buy me a shirt and pair of slacks she likes, maybe shoes, so I'll look like her impressive youngest son. If it works for you, because that's the best I'll look until school starts, I'll come to dinner the day after tomorrow. I'll even wash my face so it goes with the haircut. They'll never suspect the truth.”

“Cool,” I said, not wanting to say anything to discourage him.

I'll look like my mother's son for fifteen minutes or so. Longer if I work at it. If we strike while the iron is hot, your parents will think I'm normal.”

“The truth being?” I knew I was treading on thin ice.

“I'm a mess. I try to respect my elders, Clay, and I'm not beyond using my mother's desire to impress her peers to make a good impression on your parents. If I can pull that off, and keep from acting like the wild child I truly am, we should be good to go. They'll allow us to be friends. What do you think, Amos? You know your parents better than I do. I hope so anyway. You think they'll buy it?”

I laughed. Ivan had thought it out. We had a plan. I'd have invited him over to dinner and prayed for the best. He saw the perfect time to make his entrance.”

“Sounds cool,” I said, as we headed upstairs with our sodas.

To be honest, I was sold as soon as he got to the words shirt and slacks. He never once said he'd wear the clothes, but he Might forget to take them off until after his visit. We had to move fast, because Brian was going to do his best to throw a monkey-wrench into the mix.

No one paid much attention to what Brian said, but the fear he'd mention Ivan's outfit, or lack of same, worried me. I didn't want to take any chances.

“Quit looking like your dog died, Amos. We'll pull this off. Trust me.”

“Oh, I do,” I said.

My parents had never told me who my friends should be. A bright, charming, well-dressed Ivan wouldn't hurt though. I had trouble seeing the naked kid beside me at the table, making a good impression.

“I don't know what will be for dinner, but with company coming, Mama will fix one of her specialties. I know you'll like it. She is a great cook.”

It was then that Ivan put his arm over my shoulder the first time. My face was turned toward his face and he put his arm over my shoulder. I saw the expression on his face. His motion was tentative at first. His arm was barely there. He let it settle so the weight of it was more apparent as we looked at each other.

My friends and I almost never touched each other, if we weren't rough housing. We just didn't touch. Our hugs as we parted company for the last time were quick. Physical contact wasn't part of the program. As close as we were, we kept a distance between us. None of our families weren't big on touching.

Ivan's arm being over my shoulder, being touched like that, gave me a feeling of well-being, once I realized this was his way of telling me we were in it together. The question of whether or not we were friends was answered for me with his touch. I wasn't comfortable and I knew why, but I wasn't uncomfortable.

I could tell by the look on his face, he knew it was risky business. I didn't slip out from under his touch or pull away. It was a bold move. Ivan was a bold boy. He made no attempt to get closer. We didn't lock lips. He had long arms and there was a respectful distance between us, which was good when a naked boy touched you in a way that made you feel special. It was obvious how far from Oklahoma I was.

Shaking hands wasn't Ivan's style. A hug was a bit tricky. His puppy dog eyes were perfect. Could he read how insecure I was about wanting his friendship? Was this his way of reassuring me, before we sought the approval of my parents? Didn't his parents need to approve of me?

I was in a new world. Lord knows, I needed a friend. My doubts about Ivan wanting to be my friend were gone. He waited for a reaction and he smiled when I wasn't put off. I smiled because I was there. I felt good about not being alone. I'd never felt less alone. I never felt more like smiling.

Spending time together was the most important thing after that. Each day, after I got out of bed, as quick as I could get out of the house, I was on my way to Ivan's. We'd have something to do. We talked about the next day before I went home for dinner.

Why, out of all the guys who knew and admired Ivan, he picked me to be his closest friend, I never knew. Ivan was smart, handsome, and athletic. I was none of those things. I wasn't sure I was anything at all at fourteen. My life had started over and I couldn't be sure of anything, until that day on Ivan's deck. I was sure about him after that. That's all I cared about then.

*****

My parents were glad to finally be meeting Ivan. Brian said that he saw him. He left it at that, once he mentioned the skinniest kid he'd ever seen. I held my breath, hoping he stopped talking about Ivan as soon as he mentioned him.

“Good he's coming to dinner. Someone should feed that kid.”

I wanted Ivan to stand on his own without comments from the Peanut Gallery. I feared what might go wrong, but all was mellow at the Olson house.

Mama began preparing dinner when she came in from work the night Ivan said he'd come. She was frying chicken, mashing potatoes, and readying ears of corn for a dunk in boiling water. There were tomatoes ready to slice. Green beans were snapped and cooking. The yellow squash simmered with a slice of onions. Two strips of bacon were frying. Mother crumbled the bacon into the squash, once it came off the heat. By dinner time the flavors mingled completely.

The smells were heavenly and the sight of the biscuits ready to pop in the oven made my stomach growl. The kitchen was my favorite room in the gigantic house, except for my room.

I slid a chicken wing off the edge of the platter, heading for the door to wait for Ivan out back. The chicken was too hot. I was suddenly nervous and wished I'd grabbed a drumstick to go with the wing.

I never had a friend come over for an interview before. I was almost certain he'd wear clothes. Oh, I hoped he did. My heart was pounding and the chicken wing didn't do anything to calm me down. It made me want more chicken.

“You'll ruin your supper,” Mama said, as I slipped back in for the drumstick and out again.

She was standing at the stove with her back turned to me. I'd have to check to see if she had rear view mirrors near the stove.

I sat on the top step, tapping my foot, fearing Ivan would be late if he showed up at all. It was almost seven and the food was ready when it was ready. There would be no waiting around for company to show up. My father and brothers worked all day. There would be a riot if they got a whiff of that chicken and Mama told them to wait until my friend showed up.

When I saw someone walking in the shadows, my heart leaped, and so did I. I couldn't be sure it was him, but his totally unruly hair was short and neatly trimmed. He not only wore clothes, he had on a pair of brown penny loafers that sparkled in the moonlight. He was wearing brown socks, chocolate slacks, and a shirt with brown, green, and blue running through it. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

“Is this the Olson residence, my man?” he asked in a sophisticated voice.

I stood there with my mouth hanging open.

“What's up, Amos? You ain't never seen no gentlemen before? This is how I'd look if I lived with my mother. Now you know why I don't. I look like a dork.”

In his hand Ivan carried a large package he handed over to me.

“Fresh fish Dad brought me for the lady of the house. These suckers were swimming in the gulf last night. I'd have picked some posies on my way, but there ain't none to steal between my house and yours. Will I pass muster, Amos?”

“The fish is fine. You look terrific. Thanks,” I said relieved.

“They don't smell nothing like posies, but what's a boy to do? You look like you halfway expected me to come strolling up with my tally-whacker swinging in the breeze, Amos.”

“However you showed up is fine with me, Ivan,” I said. “Dinner's almost ready.”

“Good! I'm starved,” Ivan said, looking way more mature than usual.

There were no worries he might not pass the smell test. None of us ever looked as good as Ivan looked that night. Maybe Coleen when she had her eye on a new boy she wanted to impress.

Ivan was the perfect gentlemen. He smiled politely as I introduced him to my parents. Coleen kept staring at the tall handsome stranger. John-Henry asked about fishing. I sat silent and smiled. Ivan was a hit at the Olson house.

Was I relieved.

Ivan told John-Henry not to buy any equipment, the bottom floor of his house was devoted to storing fishing gear, past and present. His grandfather, and now his father, kept up with the newest and best equipment.

“I know about your grandfather,” Pop said. “He was from Lithuania and the finest fisherman in these parts. There's a photograph of him at the conservancy headquarters with him standing behind his boat with the biggest damn fish I've ever seen. Not a lot of fish that size in Oklahoma.”

“I never knew that,” Ivan said, sounding pleased to have learned about the picture. “He died when I was eight years-old. My father took over his business. He's out right now. He'll be home tomorrow. He has new refrigeration, which allows him to stay out longer these days.”

“Your father has a fine reputation too,” Pop said. “Not as well known as your grandfather, but everyone likes your father. He's known as a dependable fellow.”

“Thank you,” Ivan said. “He likes his work. He loves the gulf. He's kept me off the boat for the most part, but I'm talking to him about going out with him a couple of times a month.”

The food moved around the table on a human conveyer belt that was my family. Ivan was the best mannered person at the table. He was polite and cordial.

I kept watching him to see if he might put his elbow in his mashed potatoes or fumble an ear of corn, just to prove he was human, but Ivan was the regal boy I'd seen do that dive the first time I saw him. There was no sign of the wild child who lived up the beach.

It was established that Ivan's parents were separated and his mother lived in Tampa with his brother, Boris. My father checked on Ivan's family when it began looking like we'd become friends. There was no resistance to Ivan. He was a fine young man from a fine hard working local family.

“How old's your brother?” Coleen asked, still watching Ivan closely.

“He's sixteen.”

“Is he as pretty as you?” Coleen asked.

“Coleen!” Mama said, handing her the corn. “Pass the corn to your father.”

This was Mama's way of telling my sister to stuff a sock in it.

“We're twins,” Ivan said, sounding serious.

This was news to me. He hadn't told me that. If he was fourteen and Boris was sixteen, it must have been a difficult birth.

“When my mother refused to live on the beach, she moved to Tampa. Last year, five years after... moving, she came for us. Boris went with her. I stayed with my father. I can't be a fisherman in Tampa. My life is her on this beach. Boris discovered there were girls in Tampa and there weren't any on the beach.”

“There are girls on the beach now,” Coleen said, chewing on her fork.

“Coleen!” Mama said. “You're nineteen years old. Act your age, dear. Let the boys grow up before you get any big ideas,” Mama said.

“Ouch!” John-Henry yelped. “Cut by your own mother.”

“Mother!” Coleen objected.

“Thank you for bringing us fish, Ivan. Thank your father for us,” Mama said. “In spite of the way it may sound, most of us are housebroken.”

“We'll have to have you down again soon,” Pop said. “We haven't done much socializing since we've moved here. I'd like to meet your father.”

“That's kind of you,” Ivan said. “I'm not used to getting such wonderful food. Dad had the fish cut in fillets. It doesn't take a lot of cooking and it's so fresh it might jump into the frying pan.”

Everyone laughed. Ivan smiled. I sat silent and wondered who all these polite people were. Ivan wasn't the only one on his best behavior.

John-Henry sat in the living room and talked fishing with Ivan. Lucy sat on Ivan's lap and told Ivan he smelled good. Coleen was too big for Ivan's lap, or she'd have given it a go. Teddy asked Ivan about the school. Brian looked like he wanted to flex for Ivan. I prayed he didn't. Ivan had already seen plenty of my muscle head brother.

Mama brought Ivan a cup of banana pudding, saying to the rest of us, “Yours is on the table. Don't make a mess.”

“Thank you. Your cooking is even better than Clay said it would be. I've rarely had chicken as juicy. Everything was so good. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Since your mom isn't there to fix your meals, you're welcome to come down when you'd like. There's always plenty,” Mama said. “Clay's friend Russell ate at our house more than he ate at his own house. He was a quiet boy too.”

“Yes, and one day I would like to meet your father. I'd like to talk to him about fishing,” Pop said. “We're in Florida now. I'm told I need to be less serious and fishing is a fine way to relax. I'm looking forward to trying it.”

“Yes, sir. It's quite relaxing when done for enjoyment. It can add variety to the dinner table. When I go out with my father, Clay wants to go. We'll catch fish for you. My father goes out a lot this time of year.”

“Do you have a boat?” Brian asked, surprising me.

“It's a flat bottom twelve foot. I drag it down to the water. It's paddle powered but it gets me to where the fish are. I'm contemplating making a raft. I want to try that when the gulf is quiet.”

“I wouldn't want Clay to go too far out,” Mama said. “He can't swim. I worry about him being around so much water. It's hard to keep a boy out of the water.”

“You didn't tell them?” Ivan asked, sounding surprised.

“No. Didn't think about it. Ivan taught me to swim. No chance of me sinking like a stone,” I said, quoting Dylan for Ivan.

“Can you teach me?” Brian asked. “I can't swim a stroke. Is it hard.”

“Sure. I'm always in the water first thing in the morning. Come on up and in a couple of days you'll be swimming like a fish.”

“Just teach me enough to swim like a person would be good,” Brian said.

“How do you do fishing around here?” John-Henry asked, ignoring Brian. “Catch many?”

“I don't go often. I go with my father once in a while. That's fishing! The gulf is full of fish. Some days fishing is good and some days it isn't.”

“I'd like that,” I said. “I'd like to see what's out there.”

“I'll ask Dad to take us with him if your parents are OK with the idea.”

“Sounds like a marvelous experience to me,” Pop said.

“I'll talk to you more about fishing,” John-Henry said.

“I heard the story about your grandfather building that house in the 30s?” Pop said. “A picture of this house taken off shore about twenty years ago shows your grandfather's house. That picture is hanging at the conservancy too.”

“I'd love to see it,” Ivan said. “I didn't know my grandfather was that well remembered. He was a happy old man. I stayed with him as often as I could when I was little. I love the beach. I got that from him, I think. I know my father is glad I'm here. He likes having me in the house with him, when he comes in.”

“It does grow on you,” Pop said. “One afternoon at lunch time, I'll come home and pick you boys up. I haven't shown Clay where I work yet. He left his friends behind in Tulsa. He wasn't happy about it. I'm glad he's found a good friend, Ivan. It's something that worried me until right now.”

“Clay's cool,” Ivan said. “We get along.”

“You boys can come down to see the pictures. Some of the conservancy people will want to meet you, Ivan. I'm sure they have stories about your grandfather you'd like to hear.”

“I like hearing stories about Grand Pop,” Ivan said. “He was good to me. He taught me to be independent. He taught me to find things in life I loved doing.”

“Will you take me fishing?” Brian asked, looking right past me.

“Brian, you're just imagining Ivan is Clay's friend. You wouldn't want to ask favors of Clay's imaginary friend,” John-Henry said, never missing a chance to take a poke at Brian.

Everyone laughed but Brian.

*****

Chapter 9

Vilnius Two

I got up the next morning excited, and perhaps a bit jealous over how well my family treated my friend. My thoughts were of Ivan and I wanted to see him.

“Come on up,” Ivan said, as he leaned on the railing, watching me arrive.

He looked bored, until he saw me the day after he auditioned at my house. He had been watching the gulf. I'm certain he was waiting to see me. I went through the kitchen, up the stairs, and out onto the deck. He'd turned around so he was facing me when I came through the white linen curtains.

“You've come to tell me your parents have forbidden you to see me again?”

“Get real. You were a hit. Even Brian likes you. I'm not sure that's so hot for you. Brian doesn't like anyone.”

“I'm glad that's over,” Ivan said. “Your parents are nice, but I'd marry Lucy if she was a couple of years older. You've got one cute sister, Clay.”

“I'm certain you aren't talking about Coleen. I picture her belonging to the shark family, when it comes to boys anyway,” I said. “Any cute boy'll do.”

“You think I'm cute?”

“No. You definitely are not cute, Ivan. I don't know of another boy I'd call handsome, but you're handsome as a boy gets.”

“Thank you,” he said.

He turned his head to look into my eyes. He slid his arm over my shoulders. A smile took over his face. I was warmed by it and him. We'd become friends. I didn't know how it happened. I liked being with Ivan and he liked me being with him. This created security we didn't get from anyone else.

“She's old and she's big enough to break me,” he said of Coleen. “I prefer Lucy. She's going to go a long way in life.”

“Me too. We get along. She likes me,” I said. “No accounting for taste, but we've always been closer to each other than anyone else.

“I like you too,” he said. “I'm glad you came up. I was worried they saw through my disguise. I had to work on that charm deal. You think they'll be up here to check on us?”

“No. I've never been in trouble, and you were perfect. You have a way with people. That's why I can't see what you see in me,” I said. “You could have a dozen friends.”

“I don't need a dozen friends. I need you to be my friend. We make a good team. I wasn't ready for your family to be so nice to me.”

“They put up with my friends in Tulsa. They liked you,” I said. “I wanted to be your friend the first time I saw you. I just felt like you were the guy for me. I have no idea why. I don't take to that many people.”

“You aren't like everyone else, Clay. Too many people are like everyone else. Besides, you moved onto my beach. There is no one else,” he said, smiling as sweetly as he said it. “It's a good thing we like each other.”

“If that's not a vote of confidence, I don't think I've heard one. I'm still not sure I've heard one.”

He smiled and looked out at the gulf. His arm stayed over my shoulders. No matter my doubts about what he saw in me, the arm sold me on the bond building between us. I was happy being there. I didn't think it could get any better.

“My father's at the fish warehouse. He'll be home in a few minutes.”

“How do you know?” I asked. “You don't read minds?”

Ivan laughed before saying, “He's on the boat off-loading fish. Come here.”

We passed the bed and the bookshelves and went to the closet. He opened the door to reveal a big radio. He switched a couple of switches, identified himself, and his father answered a minute later.

“What's up, Ivan. I'm a little busy. Over,” his father answered.

“Can you stop and get me some Quaker Puffed Rice? I ran out. Over.”

“Yeah, I can. We'll go shopping this afternoon. Let me get my job done and we can talk face to face. Vilnius Two Out.”

“10-4,” Ivan said. “Base out.”

“Neato,” I said. “Vilnius Two?”

“Grand Pop was Vilnius One. They were both born there.”

“How far out can you talk to him?” I asked.

“Depends. I can pick him up two or three hours out. Maybe 50 or 60 miles. The antenna blew down a couple of years ago. We only have half an antenna right now. My father's been talking about taking me out with him now that I'm fourteen. I can ask him to take us this weekend. You can come if you want. Being out of sight of land is awesome. It's all water in all directions all of the time, after you head west for an hour.”

“Cool!” I said, excited by the prospect of a new adventure. “I'll have to ask my parents. Pop said he thought it might be a good experience.”

“Hey, you'll be with me. They'll let you go anywhere with me,” he bragged.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself. My parents aren't that easy,” I said. “Especially if I really want to go somewhere.”

“You'll see. Tell them you're going with me. They'll say it's OK. We'll be with my father.”

I would see. Ivan was right. It wasn't just Ivan's performance that convinced them that we would make good friends, but what did I know?

I wanted to go fishing. I'd go anywhere with Ivan, but being out of sight of land was a long way to go. Since first seeing the gulf, I'd wanted to see beyond the horizon. I didn't want to be too far from land however, which was a handicap.

We had sodas. We walked to the point so I could say hello to Millie. When we came back into the kitchen, Mr. Aleksa was putting boxes of Quaker Puff Rice on the table. We'd heard his pickup out front, and that brought us inside.

Ivan and his father kissed on the lips. I'd heard of Europeans being more affection toward each other, but it was my first father and son kiss. It was easy to see how fond of Ivan Mr. Aleksa was.

Ivan poured his father coffee and they stood talking about the coming fishing trip. It was like I wasn't there for the first few minutes.

“I'm Ivan's father,” he said, reaching to shake my hand.

Sure glad the kiss deal didn't extend to Ivan's friends. He seemed cordial, was unshaven, and he looked tired.

“How long you home for, Dad?”

“I'll go out Friday night. The fish are running southwest of here. A storm went up the west coast of Mexico. The fishing trawlers are heading out Friday.”

“How many boats are you running with?” Ivan asked.

“Six. Popov is having a tooth pulled tomorrow. He won't go out again this week. He's such a softy,” Mr. Aleksa said.

“How about you take Clay and me out with you Friday. You've been promising to take me,” Ivan said. “I want to go before school starts.”

“By the sounds of it, we'll have plenty of work, son. You sure you want to go this trip?” Mr. Aleksa asked. “Clay may not be up to a weekend of working.”

“Sure. I'd rather work than sit around. You up for a little work, Clay? I'll show you what to do. It takes strength and some stamina, but you'll like it. There's nothing like being in the middle of the gulf.”

“I'd like that,” I said, and I meant it.

I'd finally get to see what was out there. Finally hadn't taken that long. Seeing what was out there wasn't possible but I'd be out there where it was, and I'd see plenty. I didn't think Ivan would let me fall overboard.

“You can go, Ivan. You've got to wear something on the boat. You don't know how quickly you can lose your pecker to something sharp or hungry. We're traveling in a fleet. There's no way to know if one of those fellows might take a shine to a good looking young boy's flesh, after a few days at sea,” Mr. Aleksa said.

“Yeah, I'll find something to wear. I may not like clothes, but I like unwanted attention even less. We'll be working and I'll dress accordingly, Dad. I'm not that crazy.”

“That would be best, Ivan. When you're here swimming and on the beach, you dress the way you please. I have no objections.”

“Glad we had this talk, Dad. I'm fine with that. I want to go with you more often. You said when I was fourteen you'd take me. I'll do it on your terms.”

“Sounds like we have a deal. I know your grandfather encouraged you to think for yourself. Trouble you don't need can come with independence. I didn't own a swim suit until I came to America. We never wore suits back home, but it's different here. There is a great fear of nudity. What was done naturally at home can get you locked up here.”

“Yeah, I've heard, Dad. No one comes here but Clay, and he doesn’t care what I wear. Do you, Clay?”

“No,” I said, no longer having an opinion.

I wasn't walking around with my business hanging out, but I didn't look like Ivan either. We were cool no matter what he wore. The idea of men looking at him worried me.

“I'll take you. I should meet Clay's parents so they know me,” he said.

“Oh, they know you,” Ivan said, smiling. “You're dependable.”

“I am,” Mr. Aleksa said quizzically. “Glad to hear it. I always mean to be.”

“They had me over for dinner last night. Mr. Olson works for the conservancy. They apparently know all about us,” Ivan said.

“They do? They're a bit high dollar for our taste. I know the people living in that house work for the conservancy. Glad you met them. I worry about you being home alone so much,” he said. “I'll stop by the conservancy to speak to Mr. Olson in the morning. I'd like to meet Clay's father just so he knows who I am.”

“I'm fine, Dad. Clay’s up here all the time. I'd rather be here than anywhere in the world. It was a little lonely after Boris left me, but I adapted.”

“Yeah, but you're fourteen and if people know you are here alone some times, there could be trouble, Ivan. America is a funny place. A boy as smart and as capable as you, can be taken away from me if someone doesn't like the idea my job requires me to be gone some nights.”

“There's no one around, Dad. Clay's parents know about you and they have a high opinion of you and Grand Pop. No one is going to cause trouble.”

“I certainly hope not. I worry they'd force you to live with your mother.”

“The mother who deserted Boris and me when I wasn't nine yet? If I'm even a little crazy, I know where I got it from. It's dangerous for my mother and I to be in closed in spaces together.”

“I'm telling you what can happen. How's Boris? I miss your brother,” Mr. Aleksa admitted.

“In love again. I'm surprised he hasn't made you a grandfather,” Ivan said. “Mother has his girlfriends living with them. That's where they want me to live? I'd be better off being raised by wolves.”

“Heaven help the child,” his father said. “Your mother should have left your brother here where he couldn't get into that kind of trouble. It was a lot easier leaving you when Boris was here.”

“I'm fine, Dad. I live in a good house. I eat good food. I have fresh air and exercise every day. My father loves me. No kid ever had it better. I don't need a leash to keep me safe. I do have a brain that works most of the time.”

“Unfortunately the laws aren't written with such things in mind, Ivan. The law would say you should live with your mother. If she thought she could handle you, she'd have come for you a long time ago.”

“If that happened, I'd just come back here the first chance I got,” Ivan said. “This is the best place in the world.”

“Your brother isn't as smart as you, Ivan. Your mother has always favored Boris. He didn't know any better when she came for him.”

“He's got the rest of his life to love on girls. He left me alone. I won't forget that very soon. He was fine here and she came and got him. She should be in jail. We're better off with you. You're a responsible adult. She may have given us birth but she's never been a mother to us.”

“Don't talk about your mother that way. You'll show her some respect. She's the only mother you have, Ivan. Boris is too bold and too pretty for his own good. I'd feel better if I could keep an eye on him, but I can't. If I tried to get him back, she'd take you for spite. I don't want that to happen.”

“You don't respect her,” Ivan said. “Anyone who doesn't like this beach is crazy. It's nothing personal. It's a fact. I plan to live here for the rest of my life.”

“I have my reasons,” Mr. Aleksa said. “The worst thing she did was come to get my son. She left me years ago. It was for the best. Why didn't she let Boris grow up before she came for him?”

It was awkward hearing Ivan's story. They didn't hide their feelings or hold back on what they had to say. It furnished me a clearer picture of who Ivan was.

Ivan fixed his father eggs and bacon and we ate one of the boxes of Quaker Puffed Rice. Ivan took the fish his father brought to put it in the freezer. I tagged along and found the coolest spot on the beach. It was built into the back of the kitchen and was a flour to ceiling freezer that my family would have fit into.

“We'll bring part of what we catch this weekend home for your parents. It'll be plenty fresh, and it'll be fish you helped to catch. They'll get a kick out of that.”

“Cool!” I said to Mr. Aleksa, hoping I'd do a good enough job to earn them.

*****

It was a forty foot boat docked in the marina behind the fish warehouse, where Mr. Aleksa sold his catch. After warming up the engines, the lines were cast off by Kenny, the first mate, a quiet kid not much older than we were.

We left the dock late Friday afternoon. We'd be back Sunday in the morning, depending on the fishing, the weather, and how fast the refrigeration filled. There were seats on the bridge, where Mr. Aleksa controlled the boat. He stood looking out through the glass in the front of the bridge. It gave him a pretty good view of the water in front of him. The seats were for the spectators, like me.

Once we cleared the harbor, the radio crackled with information. Mr. Aleksa was adept at guiding the boat and talking. He was given compass headings that would take us to where the fishing fleet was going.

“He goes out with other fishermen. They coordinate so they'll end up in the same place. The trawlers are loaded with equipment to locate the fish. My father sticks close to them. They have a general idea where the best fishing is.”

“Cool,” I said.

“I haven't been going out much. Kenny's OK, but he begins to worry when either Boris or I come along. He needs the job.”

Kenny Cooper was a good sized red headed boy, maybe sixteen. If he was worried, he didn't show it. He sat with his legs dangling over the bow of the boat as we headed southwest. Wherever we ended up. He'd get there first.

Kenny incessantly smoked Marlboro cigarettes. He wore no shirt and a pair of jeans he'd cut off well above the knee to cover the essentials. His skin glowed red, like mine did when I first got to Florida, but he'd been working on the boat for a couple of years.

“Ivan,” Kenny said, the first time we met, after he cast off the lines.

“Kenny. How's it hanging?” Ivan asked.

“Not quite to my knee yet, but you'll know when it does.”

“Can't wait,” Ivan said. “You still living on the boat?”

“Nowhere else to go,” he said. “I like the boat. No one fucks with me here. Your old man is nice to me.”

“Yeah, privacy and quiet,” Ivan said. “This is Clay. We're here for adventure. We won't get in your way. He's never been out before.”

“A landlubber. You'll love the gulf, Clay. Nothing like it in this world. Nothing but the water, the sky, fresh air, and the birds,” Kenny said like he might recite poetry. “Just be careful of the birds.”

“And hopefully fish,” Ivan added. “They'll bomb you if they get a chance.”

Kenny laughed and shook his head.

“Hopefully fish,” Kenny said. “Lots of fish and lots of pay for your Daddy. So he can afford to keep me in Marlboros and Tru Ade for another week.”

“What do you do with all your money, Kenny?” Ivan asked.

“Bank it. Your Daddy got me a bank account right off. I got a bankbook with my name on it and all. He gives me cash to buy my cigarettes and pop. He takes my bankbook with him to the bank. He brings it back with an entry for that week's deposit. I'm going to buy me my own boat one day.”

“Cool,” Ivan said, and Kenny wandered away. We ended up back on the bridge with his father, after I got a tour of the boat.

I watched Kenny sitting on the bow. He more rode it than sat on it. The water was calm and it was fairly smooth.

After a while watching his father, Ivan nudged me and took me down into the bowels of the boat. He showed me where the crew quarters were before going to the galley for soda. The engines were loud below deck. Ivan said they were Detroit Diesel Marine Engines. There were two.

“What's Kenny's story?” I asked. “He looks at home here.”

“He hung around the warehouse. My father gave him a job when he was our age. Might have run away or he doesn't have a home. He gave Dad his name and that's about it. He's a harder worker than me. I don't mind the work but he's good at it. I think he likes it,” he said. “He lives on the boat.”

“What about school?” I asked.

“Kenny? No school. He hardly leaves the boat. He's running from something or afraid of someone out there. Dad decided he couldn't let him live under that warehouse. Dad wants to see to it that he grows up on his own terms. He's a good guy. Dad couldn't afford a full time first mate. Kenny works out fine.”

“Your Dad sounds cool,” I said.

“He's a good man. He works hard. He doesn't ask for much. That's why I want to be at the house. I make it easier on him. He likes me being there, but he misses Boris. I think the first son is always the favorite.”

“I like you being there too,” I said, giving him one of my best smiles.

Ivan put his arm across my shoulders and smiled back.

We moved in a southwesterly direction. The area in front of the boat stayed well lit, even as the land behind us darkened and disappeared. At one point, as we sat in the stern of the boat, Ivan pointed out what he said was the rigging of one of the fishing trawlers. It was a shadow on the horizon off the port side. It was hard for me to tell what it was.

The sound and the motion were hypnotic as we sailed into the night. Ivan got a bag with sandwiches and we ate one apiece. He took both his father and Kenny a sandwich. We moved steadily deeper into the gulf. I wasn't sure when we lost contact with land and it wasn't anything I thought about again.

*****

Sitting and doing nothing sure tired me out. Ivan took me down to the crew quarters where the bunks were stacked one on top of the other in the bow of the boat. I remember Ivan pointing at one and the next thing I knew I was waking up to a racket I couldn't identify.

It was still dark below deck, but as I came out onto the stern of the boat, there was rigging up over my head and a whining sound was coming from a small engine controlling the boom where the net was hung.

Over the stern of the boat hung another net that spread out behind the boat. Ivan's father controlled the levers on the boom as it was left to unfold as the boat moved slowly forward. Kenny and Ivan were feeding the net into the gulf off the back of the boat.

Ivan had on thick gloves and he moved like he'd done this before. Looking off to the port side, I saw rigging against the morning sky. It was attached to the biggest damn boat I'd ever seen. It was three or four times the size of our boat.

The rigging on the trawler was swinging a net out over the water, dropping it a fair distance from the boat. Men scurried around on deck. It wasn't light enough to see much details, but there was no doubt these men knew what they were doing and wasted no time doing it.

On another trawler about the same size as the first, one of the nets was opening to spill fish straight onto the deck. Then the net swung back over the starboard side, dropping it back into the water. It was fast and impressive.

What I saw in the few minutes I watched, repeated itself before I looked away. Nets went in and came out of the water at a fairly regular clip. It didn't look very hard the way they did it.

The boom on our boat was tiny compared to the industrial size suckers on the big boats. The engine for the boom struggled as the boom strained under the weight of the net. I couldn't begin to estimate how many fish were in the net. It was chocked full of fish.

“Here,” Ivan said. “Come help me so Kenny can pull the covers off the refrigeration. Those holds are where the fish end up. Look at all the fish!”

Ivan tossed me a pair of gloves like the ones he wore. Kenny had on a pair as he went along the deck, yanking up the sections covers to reveal the holds that went down six or eight feet. The boom swung the net over the center of the deck, raining squirming fish down as Kenny leaned out of the way.

Kenny used a big rake to push the fish into the holds. In no time the fish were in the holds and the boom was dropping the net back into the water.

The net I watched Ivan and Kenny dropping over the stern of the boat was ready to come back out. It had only been in the water a few minutes. What was going on? Why did it take three days of fishing to fill the holds if so many fish were coming out of the gulf? I was amazed by it all.

“Pull like this,” Ivan said, showing me to grab the cross sections of net to pull it onto the boat. It was heavy. I needed to put plenty of muscle into it. Kenny came over, getting in the middle of the net, taking a lot of the weight off me. Fish of all sizes began swimming out of the net onto the deck.

It took leverage and balance to get the net into the boat. I caught the hang of it watching Kenny, who was in the middle of the storm. The fish cascaded around his ankles and up to his knees as we kept pulling until the entire net was emptied onto the deck.

Kenny left the net to get the rake. In five more minutes the fish disappeared into the refrigeration units, and we were putting the net back into the water, as I heard the engine on the boom beginning to strain to lift the newest load of fish..

“How much fish can we put on the boat before it sinks?” I asked Ivan.

“Not a lot more. I've never seen so many fish. It's like the gulf is filled to the brim. It's not usually this easy,” Ivan told me.

“This is easy?” I asked, as my arms were already aching.

“So many fish. It's like they're jumping into the nets. We usually catch a few hundred pound at a time and it takes a couple of hours of leaving the nets out to catch that many.”

Obviously something had changed. We got a rest once the net was back in the water, but Mr. Aleksa kept using the boom. Each time the net went in, he almost immediately began to bring it back up.

“Ivan, pull the net one more time. Then fold it back into it's holder. No point in wearing you boys out. I'm filling my net every time I drop it. Those holds will be filled in no time at this rate.”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” Ivan answered.

“Then I'll let you swab the decks,” Mr. Aleksa replied happily.

“Oh no, Cap'n,” Ivan said.

“Better you than me,” Kenny said.

I didn't want to tell anyone I was having fun. I mean my arms and back were aching, but I'd never worked before and if this was work, I didn't mind.

These were good people and I was lucky enough to find them on the beach where I lived.

Chapter 10

Being Schooled

Kenny was busy behind us, raking the fish he couldn't shovel into the holds. Ivan was on one side of the net. I was on the other. We began pulling it into the boat. It wasn't easy work. The weight of the net was enough to make me strain as the fish came out of the water.

Kenny joined us, grabbing hold of the net in the center. He took some of the weight off me. The fish spilled around Kenny onto the deck. He was stronger than he looked and he knew what he was doing. While watching him for helpful tips, I became more efficient at pulling the net.

There wasn't time to think. I had to concentrate on what I was doing. It required a good bit of my strength. The sweat rolled as the net emptied its contents onto the deck. The net folded up as the fish fell out. By the time we emptied it, I was ready for a break. My arms were tired, not to mention my aching back. I ended up sitting on the folded net, watching Kenny filling the holds with fish.

My back rested against the stern as I recovered the feeling in my arms and legs. It was intense but exhilarating. The net was in the boat about the time I was ready to give in to my exhaustion. I smiled about what I'd done. It was the first time I did something I classify as work.

That's when I discovered all the fish didn't make it into the holds. The fish in the nets weren't all fish and all fish weren't eatable. When Kenny came to one of these, it flew back into the gulf.

“What was that?” I asked, my attention leaving my aching muscles.

Forgetting my fatigue, my mind shifted into curiosity mode. I moved to get a closeup look at the strange creatures that never made it to anyone's dinner plate.

If I was hooked on the boat, the sea, the fresh air, those weird creatures sealed the deal. In mid toss, the next time Kenny had one in his hand, I grabber his wrist. At first, a bit put off by my interruption of his flow, he saw my interest and dropped the mystery creature on the deck.

“What is that?” I asked of the ugliest creature I'd ever seen.

Kenny looked at me for a full minute. Then he looked at my hand on his wrist, before looking down to where the thing landed. It took a second for him to look at the unidentified sea creature.

“It ain't no fish, dude. We fish. The rest goes back,” he said.

My toe helped me to investigate the brown and black speckled crustacean. What was it? I wondered as my toe failed to reveal anything concrete.

With the boom net back in the water, Mr. Aleksa stood at the bridge entrance with a cup of coffee, while Kenny and I worked out the new routine for those creatures that routinely went back into the drink. When I looked up and saw Mr. Aleksa, he smile a benign smile. He showed no concern over my desire to add a step to Kenny's routine.

Returning to operate the boom and bring in the next net full of fish, Mr. Aleksa said, “Let Clay see anything you usually throw back. We may have a budding scientist on our crew.”

“Right, boss,” Kenny said.

He looked at me as if he was working out what he thoughts I wanted. From then on, anything due to go back into the gulf, was put in a pile for me to look over, after I finished my work. Work came first. I wasn't going to neglect it. We had lots of time, after the nets were pulled, to rest. That's when my toe went to work on the pile Kenny left for me.

Shortly after this conversation, the boom swung back over the deck, releasing another wriggling net full of fish on deck. Saying I didn't know there were so many fish would be stupid, but I'd never seen so many fish. We were nearly knee deep in those squirmy suckers.

Kenny stayed in motion, making those fish disappear as quickly as they hit the deck. He knew there would be more, as the net moved into position to be dropped back into the sea. It ran smoothly and except for Kenny, we were working an hour at a time.

“Good job, fisherman,” Ivan said, sliding over beside me. “That's what we do. What do you think?”

“I think it's hard work,” I said. “I like it. What's that,” I said, nudging the unidentified swimming object with my toe to get it out of Kenny's way.

“You don't know what that is?” Ivan said facetiously.

He sounded serious to me.

“No. Why do you think I asked you?” I said. “You're smart. What is it?”

“You ever heard of the mysteries of the deep, dude.”

“No,” I said, sensing disappointment coming.

“That's one of those,” Ivan said happily. “Weird sucker, aren't they?”

After getting our second wind, after our second soda, we stood at the starboard side of the boat. watching one of the trawlers only a few hundred yards away. It's booms were in constant motion, dropping fish onto the deck, swinging its nets back over the water, and another net on a separate boom, emptied onto its section of the boat.

The deck was alive with fish. Eight men shoveled the knee deep catch into the holds. One thing was for certain, they had a lot more deck than we did. Their nets always seemed to be full. I wondered why fishing boats stayed out for days on end. Unless I was missing something, these boats, including ours, would be so full of fish by morning's end, there would be no where to put them.

Because he was catching so many fish with the boom net, Mr. Aleksa told us not to drop the stern net again. The holds were half filled in a couple of hours. At this rate, the boom net would fill the holds in a couple more hours.

“This is a lot of fish,” Ivan told me. “We don't catch half this many ordinarily in three days of fishing. On average, in three days, we half fill our holds.”

“Why are there so many?” I asked, looking to Ivan for answers.

“Because we are where a lot of fish are today.”

“I'm sure glad I have you to keep me informed,” I said.

Ivan smiled and shrugged.

Boris, his brother, had been going with his father since he was fourteen. Ivan went on the boat but didn't work. His father let him learn the trade without practicing it. Exposure made Ivan more passionate about being a fisherman.

*****

Once Kenny understood my fascination with creatures there was no use for, he kicked them into a pile for me to examine, after the work was done. If he knew what it was, he'd tell me before he threw these unidentified swimming objects back into the gulf. I did get a good look at some pretty unusual life forms. I've never stopped trying to identify some of what I saw on my earliest fishing trips.

Once I developed a technique and learned to use my legs more effectively, the work was easier. The more I worked on the fishing boat, the stronger I got. My body in Tulsa had no lines in it. Everything was kind of rounded off. The summer I was fourteen, I began to mature. My body changed.

By summer's end pulling nets was no big deal. Ivan and I could easily pull in the stern net by ourselves. This freed Kenny to do any number of other things to help Mr. Aleksa. Ivan and I were literally pulling our weight on board the Vilnius Two. Once we were done, there was always a pile of creatures waiting for me.

I enjoyed using my muscles. Seeing the fish we caught gave me a sense of accomplishment. The net jerked, pulled, yanked, and was a living organism. We worked like a well-oiled machine. Then the real excitement grew with each new creature I saw.

That first morning on the boat, the radio crackled as Mr. Aleksa operated the boom, ready to set the net back into the water.

“Kenny, let out the net for me. I'll see who that is,” Mr. Aleksa said.

We followed him onto the bridge to listen. What I heard made the mystery of the sea run deeper.

“Vilnius Two, over.”

“Fifteen minute, Nicky. We drive fish your way. We catch more fish, we sink boat,” the happy captain explained, laughing heartily at this good fortune.

“10-4. I'll have my net ready. I'm filling fast too, Andrei. Vilnius Two out.”

“Gorky out,” the other captain said.

“He's Russian,” Ivan said. “Let's get a soda and watch them coming,” Ivan said. “Those suckers are huge. They'll leave a big wake. You need to hold onto something, once the boat starts rocking.”

I didn't understand what we would see, but the soda sounded good. I was tired, thirsty, hot, and it wasn't mid morning yet. I didn't know if I could make it for three days.

The boom came in as we stood on the starboard side, watching the three trawlers sailing toward each other. There were three boats our size and they were off our bow a few hundred yards apart. We were all catching tons of fish.

When the three trawlers turned toward the Vilnius Two, I began to worry. If the trawlers looked big a few hundred yards away, they looked huge closeup, and they got too close for my taste.

“What are they doing?” I asked, once the bow of these boats began obscuring everything else.

“They're driving the fish toward us. Their holds are full. They're making sure we fill ours. They'll cut away in a few seconds,” Mr. Aleksa predicted. “We pulled our net so it didn't become tangled. Well drop it as quick as they turn away. It'll fill with fish before you can say, 'Dale Robertson.”

They were close enough to count the squirming fish on their decks, once they turned away. Our boat rocked substantially. The fisherman on the trawlers were up to their knees in fish. The holds filled, they'd stay on the deck.

Little did I know we'd look the same way once we turned toward home, after Mr. Aleksa operated the boom for another two hours. Kenny would declare the holds full. He was hardly able to get the covers back in place. We were wading in the fish on deck. I figured we'd had a good day. Mr. Aleksa was very happy.

I was too tired to smile at the end of my first fishing trip.

“Are there always this many fish?” I asked.

“No way. I've never seen this many fish,” Ivan said.

“You're our good luck charm, Clay. We'll return to the fish warehouse today to off-load,” Mr. Aleksa said.

“It's exciting,” I said.

“Gets your heart pounding, that's for certain,” Ivan said.

We sat on top of the bridge to avoid sitting on the fish. I felt good. In a few weeks it was so routine I hardly thought about the fish we caught. I was looking forward to the next trip about the time we were docking with our holds empty.

There was nothing I didn't like about being on the Vilnius Two.

Maybe the smell of my fellow fisherman got to me, but when the nets were in, Ivan and I started washing our fishy cutoffs in the galley, drying them on top of the bridge, while we took a refreshing swim, once the engines went silent.

We swam each morning at the house, after getting up. Our swims off the boat became routine, after the nets had been secured. We got Kenny to wash the cutoff jeans he looked like he was poured into when he was our age. He'd probably grown up in those suckers. They'd have stood on their own, I'm sure.

Laying on top of the bridge to catch the rays6 to let our cutoffs dry a little longer, became another reward for our labor. It had to be done before noon, when the sun became torturous. Fishing was like having our own yacht, sailing the Gulf of Mexico on our summer vacation, if you didn't count the work. We had it good.

After filling up with fish on that first trip, Kenny sat with his back against the bulkhead, looking exhausted. His head drooped forward as he fought off sleep. Mr. Aleksa leaned against the rigging, watching the net disappear into the water. He wanted one more net full before he turned the boat toward home.

“Coffee in the galley,” Mr. Aleksa yelled as he headed for the bridge.

I was too tired to get up. I'd get coffee later. Ivan sat right beside me. He'd worked way harder than me, but he knew what he was doing. He looked beat.

“We'll have to protect you when we go in,” Mr. Aleksa said seriously, as he looked on top of the bridge at me.

“Why's that?” I asked, not liking the sound of it.

“Fisherman are superstitious, Clay. They'll be looking for a way to explain our good fortune. When they find out you're the only new thing about this trip, they'll want to keep you as a good luck charm. Old fisherman custom.”

“I'd like to avoid that if I could,” I said.

“The fish don't run like this too often. We've caught a month's worth of fish today. Not bad for little more than half days work,” Mr. Aleksa said.

I'd never been so tired. I couldn't make a living doing that every day, but by the next time I got to go, I couldn't wait to get back out there. I found my way to the bunks as we sailed home. The drone of the engines and the motion of the boat put me right to sleep.

The trawlers had been off-loaded and were at anchor when we were back in the harbor. It took fifteen minutes for another boat to finish off-loading, and we moved into position to turn our catch over to the fish warehouse.

After all the fish were gone, Kenny hooked a hose to a dockside faucet. He began washing down the deck. Mr. Aleksa went into the warehouse as soon as a man standing with him estimated what was in the holds and on the deck. He apparently trusted Kenny to get the rest of the fish off the boat. I watched Ivan to see if there was more for us to do, but the fish warehouse had taken over.

If I remember correctly the minimum wage at the time, more than I was worth, was a buck twenty-five. When Ivan's father came back, he handed each of his deck hands a crisp twenty dollar bill. I hadn't come to take the man's money. I had a ball on the boat. Getting paid for that seemed wrong.

“I don't want this,” I told Ivan, not confident enough to say it to Mr. Aleksa. “It's wrong taking money for having fun.”

“You work for me, you take your pay,” Ivan said gruffly. “That's what he'll tell you. Just put it in your pocket and don't make waves. He's never caught so many fish in one day. He's not sure you weren't the charm that made it happen.”

“It isn't like this all the time?” I asked again.

“I've gone out for days and we didn't half fill half the holds. This kind of catch is rare.”

After scrubbing the deck, Kenny hung the hose on a hook over his head at the back of the bridge. He stripped out of his cutoffs and took out a bar of soap. He took advantage of the running water warmed by the midday sun.

I wasn't sure about Kenny. He seemed to live in a world of his own. He was harmless and yet oblivious to the dozen people who walked passed, looking at the naked boy taking a shower. It's the only way Kenny got to shower. A lot of what Kenny did was done for the convenience of it.

Ivan watched me watching Kenny.

“No running water where we dock. Plenty of water in the tanks for drinking, but this is his only chance to get the fish smell off,” Ivan said. “The sun shines on the water pipes all day. It's warm water.”

It was Florida, I guess. Mr. Aleksa returned from the galley and helped us watch Kenny shower. Kenny wouldn't have cut it in Oklahoma, but we weren't in Oklahoma. Kenny disappeared in the soap suds. I'd shower at the house. Kenny leaned to take a drag off his Marlboro, a sip of Tru Ade, and went back to moving the soap around on his tall body.

“Where does he go?” I asked Ivan.

“He stays on the boat,” Ivan said. “No one knows where he came from. Dad found him hanging around the fish warehouse one morning, scrounging for food. Dad took him to breakfast. After concluding he was harmless, he hired him to keep the deck clean. He told him he could sleep on the boat when he was in port if he wanted. He did. When he did a good job, Dad started taking him fishing with him. That was over two years ago. He can do most anything Dad can do now, almost as well.”

“He doesn't say much,” I said.

“Good worker though,” Ivan said.

*****

Too soon it was time for the first day of school. I'd picked out my yellow and brown cowboy shirt with snaps in the place of buttons. I got out my newest pair of jeans and borrowed John-Henry's cowboy boots and Brian's black cowboy hat. Since my feet were size nine and John-Henry's were size thirteen, I wrapped my feet in newspaper before inserting them into the boots. It worked fine after the third try, which is how many times I added newspaper to do the job. It would be okay for a day, and by that time I'd have established my cowboy legend.”

My mother didn't see it the same way I did, when I went downstairs for breakfast.

The box of Sugar Crisp and a bowl were next to my place at the table. Lucy ate with me. She ate Krinkles. My mother came and sat down with her coffee.

“How is it you have on John-Henry's boots this morning, Clayton?” she asked, proving again she didn't miss anything.

“I met some local kids. They think I'm a cowboy because I'm from Oklahoma. I figured being a cowboy is better than being a dud. I'm going for it, Mama.”

Mother looked me over, noticing the hat beside me. She considered my logic. I knew I was in trouble and I hadn't made it to the car yet.

“The shirt looks nice. When's the last time you wore it?”

“Day after Christmas last year,” I said between spooning Sugar Crisp into my face. “It was from Santa Clause, remember?”

While some boys at school in Tulsa were cowboys through and through, I wasn't. It was limiting to walk around in cowboy hats and boots. My friends and I had no interest in keeping up all that gear. The closest I'd been to a horse was at the Memorial Day Parade when dozens of horses and riders passed where we sat on the curb. John-Henry took me to a rodeo once.

By the time I'd finished my cereal my mother was behind my chair, doing a complete inspection of my outfit. She used her hand to smooth what was left of my hair after my ready-to-go-to-school scalping. She stood back and tried to be motherly without sounding bossy.

“While Brian's hat will look nice on you, except for his head being two sizes bigger than yours, you won't be allowed to wear it in school. If you put it down, someone is going to take it. Leave the hat here where it's safe. You know jeans aren't allowed in school. I won't be able to come and get you when they call me to come and take you home to get properly dressed. Your brown slacks go great with that shirt. The biggest question I have for you, Clay, John-Henry has the biggest feet this side of Oklahoma. You, on the other hand, have normal size feet. How are you going to keep your feet in his boots?”

“Newspaper,” I said. “I wrapped my feet in newspaper until the boots fit. They're fine. Really, Mama. They fit and all.”

“Let me see your feet,” she said, having trouble with the concept.

I worked my right foot out of the boot.

“Won't the newspaper compact as you walk? Your feet will have an awful lot of room. Marvin Clayton Olson, you can't go to school like that,” she insisted. “You're going to ruin your feet, not to mention John-Henry's boots.”

“Mama! If I don't have anything on that points to the fact I'm a cowboy, how is anyone going to get the picture? It's all I got without the jeans and the hat. The shirts just a shirt. Please,” I pleaded.

“Leave the hat. Put on the brown slacks. Wear the boots, but when I get home from work, I'm inspecting your feet, young man. Any sign of blisters and the boots stay home from now on. Are you getting the picture?”

“Crystal clear,” I said, heading upstairs for a redress before she could think of something else.

Between the boots and all that newspaper, my feet weighed a ton. I, however, was several inches taller with the boots on. I liked that. There was a chance my feet would grow into John-Henry's boots. My head was never going to grow into Brian's hat.

*****

I didn't get a glance of Ivan until lunch on the first day. He brought his tray over to sit beside me. I had a tuna sandwich and one peanut butter and Welch's Concord grape jelly sandwich and a banana. Ivan had something that looked like it might be spaghetti with a big hunk of bread. I offered him half of my tuna sandwich. It tasted way better than that stuff looked. I was never so happy to have a mother who knew how to cook.

“Hey, cowboy, what's up? Anyone sitting here?” he asked, looking me over before sitting down.

“Not much. The girls seem to like it. I'm taller in my brother's cowboy boots,” I said. “Girls have never noticed me before.”

“Is that what those are. They look like those clown shoes they wear at the circus. Do you realize how big those suckers are, Clay? I won't ask how you got your size feet in that size boot.”

“Newspaper, my man,” I said. “If I fall off my boots, I've got something to read until the meat wagon comes. They really look that big?” I worried.

Ivan laughed and spit out some spaghetti.

“Well, if you need something to read, I can lend you a book, and you won't need to break your leg. I've been here a little over three hours and I'm bored stiff. Is it today's paper?” He asked.

“Isn't it nice seeing your friends again?” I asked, remember how I felt on the first day of school in Tulsa.

Ivan ate some spaghetti. Just when I figured he wasn't answering, he said, “These people aren't my friends, Clay. We occupy the same space six hours each day. I like the beach, the silence, and the water. Going to school is something I have to do.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked. “You might want to think about it.”

“Me,” he said. “I want to be me. I'll fish with my Dad. I'll live on the beach. I'm where I want to be, Clay. I don't need anything they are selling here. This is about indoctrination and regimentation. Get you ready to join the proletariat.”

“The what?”

“The people who keep the wheels on the establishment wagon. Labor, Clay. You're being trained to do your duty to the great unwashed,” he said in a voice that sounded like he might be serious.

“I don't know what I want to do, but it doesn't sound like I want to do that,” I said.

“Me either. You are sent to school to learn to be a conformist, be obedient, and get you all charged up about contributing to a nine to five world. You may dig a ditch or be an employee in an office where the beans are counted.”

“The beans? I don't think that's what I want. I don't like beans that much.”

“Of course you don't. No one does. That's why you need to be programmed to do it. One must learn the secrets to be able to count the beans. No thank you. I'm not meant to be indoors. No fresh air. I can have a life I love, avoid the a'holes, which is hard work these days, or I can sit still to be programmed to sit still. What do you think I should do?”

“I thought we were friends,” I said. “You sound hostile.”

“You're not like them, Clay. You're like me, except for those clown boots. We're free as birds, you and me, when we're on my beach. Do you think you're cut out to work indoors? No, you aren't. We've got it as good as it gets. You can live with me and share my beach. The a'holes can keep the beans and their offices.”

“Okay,” I said. “Sounds good. I never favored beans much. My mother might be a problem with having a beach bum for a son. The idea will grow on her. She accepts Brian okay, and no one knows what he is.”

Ivan put his hand on my shoulder and grinned at me. I wanted his approval more than I wanted an education. This was the first time we were together the first day of school, and I'd thought about him all morning. My life was better when I was with him. I'd known that for as long as I'd known him.

“I want to fish, breathe fresh sea air, and live free. I will read books and learn everything I can about the world in which I live,” Ivan said. “No indoctrination please. I refuse to be regimented for the amusement and benefit of the oligarchs.”

“Ollie who? I don't know him.”

The bells began ringing. Ivan shoveled in the spaghetti like it was real food. I cringed. I'd bring an extra sandwich for him tomorrow. Maybe tuna. Mama made great tuna fish sandwiches.

“Sorry students, we'll have to continue this discussion tomorrow,” Ivan said, sounding like a teacher. “We'll have to do this again soon. See yeah.”

Ivan stood and grabbed his tray, heading for the door. I got up and ran into a brick wall.

“Watch it,” a big voice advised. “What the hell are you dressed for. You some kind of pansy punk cowboy? You boys still cornhole each other when you ain't got no cows?”

I hadn't readied a reply for that particular question. Things had gone pretty well so far, but the immovable object didn't move, and I needed to gain some weight if I intended to move him.

“Horse got your tongue?” the boy said, shoving me backward, which wasn't a good idea with my feet now having far more room than they needed inside John-Henry's boots.

His audience, which seemed to travel with him, laughed at my loss of balance. Very funny. For my next act I'll fall down. He was taller than me even with my boots on, and with all that newspaper, balancing myself was tricky.

I didn't think it wise to back up, but several of his buddies were now so close I could feel them breathing on my neck, while they laughed.

Great! They'd surrounded me on two sides. Backing up from a bully was never good. I readied myself to get a face full of his fingers. He looked like he was out for blood. Mine.

“Take a seat, Leslie. I'm coming through here,” Ivan said from behind me. “Clear the way, you ox. You ever thought of a diet for your condition? You are a slob, Leslie. Coming through here.”

I was more shocked by what Ivan said than I was by his reappearance at just the right time.

“Don't call me that name,” the ox growled. “My names is Les.”

“It's going to be a lot less, Leslie, if you don't get out of my way,” Ivan demanded, pushing me past the road block.

Much to my surprise, Leslie moved enough to let us pass. What had just happened?

“Thanks,” I said, as I looked back at the bigger boy sitting at the table I'd deserted.

I couldn't tell if he had been coming or going when I met him.

“I'm going to be late and I'm not about to take any crap from the idiot class today,” Ivan said. “Was he giving you trouble, Clay? You can't let a guy like that bully you.”

“No, we'd just... met,” I said. “I think he was stuck between the tables.”

Ivan laughed, patted my back, and disappeared for the second time in two minutes.

'Who was that masked man?' I asked myself.

Ivan never stopped impressing me. He didn't let anything stymy him.

It was my only confrontation that day. Several boys asked me where I was from. The girls who talked to me giggled a lot and acted surprised by my cowboy way. Without the boots, most of the girls were taller than I was. I tried not to let being short bother me, but it did.

I was fourteen. Would I ever grow up?

Saying I was from Oklahoma got me the status I sought. No one knew where Oklahoma was. Why would they? No one was from Oklahoma. They understood the way I was dressed, because Roy Rogers and John Wayne were from out there somewhere, although I never saw them.

I smiled, acting like the friendless kid in the world. I didn't want to give anyone a reason to dislike me. Guys like Leslie didn't need a reason. They hated everyone, including themselves. Making everyone miserable was their calling.

I'd been gone from Oklahoma for long enough to begin forgetting what it was like being there. Ask me in ten years what was memorable about our beach home, I'd give you ten things I loved, starting with Ivan. I didn't remember what about Oklahoma appealed to me. It's where life began for me. It's where I lived until the month I turned fourteen.

In a single summer, three months, Florida had become my home. Comparing Oklahoma and Florida wasn't fair. I'm sure people living in Oklahoma liked it fine. I liked it fine when it was all I knew. It's funny how ignorance can make you content with a pretty unremarkable place.

Standing on our beach, looking out at the Gulf of Mexico, was seeing one of the natural wonders of the world. If everyone in Oklahoma could see it, they'd move here too, and Florida would sink into the sea once it filled up with Oklahomans.

While I had more friends in Oklahoma, none was as close to me as Ivan. None of them was going to teach me anything. We were exact copies of each other with small variations. We were copies of all the boys in Tulsa. We thought the same. None of us stood out from the crowd. Ivan stood out from everyone and everyone noticed him.

Even in the early days of our friendship, I knew Ivan was different from anyone I'd known before. He wasn't predictable. He had a complex mind of his own. I could never be sure of what he'd say or do. When I did something he didn't like, he said so. He made me think about stuff, when I hardly thought about anything. He made me feel better about who I was. He made me believe I could do more than follow the crowd. He made me want to do more than follow the crowd.

My life had never been better, if you didn't consider Leslie, and I didn't.

by Rick Beck

Email: [email protected]