When Maureen reached the front of the line, she’d step off nonchalantly, eyes open and nose plug on, just like that day she’d conquered the high dive at the Muni. Brenda and me would cheer, sometimes other Pantown kids would come over and talk to us, and at the end of the day, we’d bike home, sweaty and wilted, our skin pleasantly tight from a day in the sun.
Besides those daytime trips to Dead Man’s, I suspected Brenda and Mo had also attended parties at the quarry. Ones they hadn’t invited me to. It stung to think about. I didn’t want to be the fuddy-duddy in the group, but when they confessed to me that they’d smoked pot, what was the first thing I did? That’s right, lecture them about the dangers. I’d gotten the same speech from Dad, and I repeated it back to them. After that, they’d zip their lips about smoking and wapatuli barrels the second I walked into the room, or worse, they’d start whispering behind their hands.
So it was good I was now, finally, attending my very first quarry party.
Ed and Ant sat to my left, Ricky and Brenda across from me, all of us perched on granite slabs around the flickering flames of a bonfire, the fire’s heat and motion making me queasy. I counted over two dozen other people laughing and drinking, some other Saint Cloud kids I knew by sight, and then strangers who I suspected were carnival workers Ed had invited. I thought I spotted Maureen, too. I’d ridden over with Ant and Ed, so she must have come in Ricky’s car along with Brenda. I was worried about her after the odd thing she’d said at the fair, butI couldn’t seem to pinpoint her even though it was a small gathering, spread out.
It sure wasn’t a legendary Jerry Taft party. Every Pantown kid had heard of those. I’d hoped to make it to one of them, but Jerry left for the army before I was old enough. He’d come home a week or so ago under strange circumstances. I never crossed paths with him, and Brenda didn’t wanna talk about it other than to say that he had, in fact, held a party while he was in town.
I think it was one of the ones she went to without me.
I held myself tight. The quarries felt ancient and spooky at night, a hot wind whistling through the lookout pines. Ed had driven Ant and me past the parking lot for Dead Man’s, down a gravel road with an entrance so overhung with branches that you’d miss it if you didn’t know where to look. We’d come out at this smaller quarry ringed by swaying trees black in the moonlight. The water made me uneasy. It looked like a rheumy eye staring at us, its heavy eyelid the wall of rock rising behind where the miners had stacked the earth they’d carved up. Our bonfire was opposite the rock eyelid.
CCR’s “Bad Moon Rising” blasted out of Ed’s car, the doors wide open. My fingers drummed the beat on my knee. Ed’d set up the fire and the music when we first arrived, then disappeared far into the woods before returning with a brown paper sack. Ant, Ricky, Brenda, and me had sat around like a bunch of thumbs waiting for him. I still couldn’t figure out exactly what it was about him that reoriented us all, that made it so we felt like we needed to check in with him, or wait for him, but that’s exactly what we’d started to do.
“Damn,” Ed said, lighting up a joint he’d just rolled. “I’ll never get sick of this song.”
I couldn’t argue, not that I’d opened my mouth to say much of anything.
Across the fire, Ricky started hanging off Brenda, treating her different than I’d seen before. I didn’t like it.
“Come on,” he was saying too loudly, his mouth right by her ear, his hand gripping her neck. “Squirmisn’t either a gross movie! Don’t be a pussy.”
She tried to shake him off. “Stop it.”
He waggled his fingers in front of his nose. “You gonna be da worm face!”
I recognized the quote from the movie, but it was his voice, high and childish, that brought me back to that crisp fall afternoon that I hadn’t thought of in years. I must have been four or five and Junie just a baby. It was right before my accident, so Mom was still herself sometimes. That day had been one of the good ones.
Mrs.Schmidt isn’t feeling well, Mom had said,so we’re bringing her a hotdish.
She’d bundled Junie into her baby buggy, pulled on her best green coat that I so loved, helped me into my own parka, and out we went. I was so proud I got to push Junie while Mom carried the glass casserole dish. Crispy leaves skittered across the sidewalk, thin as paper. At first, no one answered the Schmidt door, but then, all of a sudden, there stood Ricky, still wearing his Tom & Jerry pajamas even though we were closer to dinner than breakfast. I was embarrassed for him.
Hello, Heinrich,Mom said.Is your mother home?
Ricky’d looked over his shoulder.She’s not feeling good.
I understand,Mom said, but she walked into the house anyway, like she didn’t understand at all. She set the rice-and-burger hotdish on the nearest table, took Junie out of her carriage, set her on the floor, and told me to watch her. Then she walked into the Schmidts’ bedroom like it was her own house.
Ricky, Junie, and me stared at each other.
Want to see my train set?Ricky finally asked, Mrs.Brownie rubbing against his ankles, her orange eyes never leaving squalling Junie.It’s the best in the neighborhood, he promised, only he pronounced itda bestbecause that’s how he talked back then.
Sure,I said.
I helped Junie toddle to her feet, and we followed Ricky to the bedroom he shared with his brothers. On the way, I caught a glimpse of Mrs.Schmidt in her bed, one eye bruised and puffy, her lip split so deep the cut was black. She caught me staring and turned her face away, toward the crib next to her bed. Mom got up to close the door, shooting me a warning glance, her face as tight as a buttonhole.
The quarry bonfire popped, bringing me back into the moment. I swallowed and looked away from Ricky and Brenda. Ant was taking a puff of the joint Ed had handed him. When Ant was done, he offered it to me. He looked as scared as I felt. Was this his first time, too? I gripped the doobie between my thumb and pointer finger and held it near my mouth. My eyes met Brenda’s across the fire. Ricky was going at her ear like he was digging for gold, but she was staring at me, her expression clear.
You don’t have to do it.
I took a puff, a small one, and held it in the back of my mouth. I didn’t want to cough and embarrass myself. I didn’t want to get high, either. I just wanted to belong. I’d seen my mom smoke a hundred million times. I would sip at the joint like she did a cigarette.
“All right, girl,” Ed said, approvingly.
I smiled, standing up to walk the joint over to Ricky. He disentangled himself from Brenda and took a drag. I returned to my rock, wondering if my head felt fuzzy or if I was imagining it. Someone hooted in the distance, followed by a splash.
“We should go swimming,” Ant said when I sat back down next to him. He sounded desperate, but he always seemed to these days.
