Kit
Age 7
It hasn’t even been ten minutes since we got to the cabin, and already Brett is being goofy. He’s standing on top of the old wooden picnic table, a dish towel tied around his neck like a cape. He’s smiling at the sun, chin lifted high with his fists planted on his hips and chest puffed up with air.
“I’m Brett-man,” he shouts, loud enough for Tucker to jolt where he stands close by. “Protector of the innocent. Defeater of the lake monster!”
“You can’t just decide you’re the leader, Brett,” Tucker complains.
“Brett-man, and yes, I can,” Brett yells back, voice cracking. “I called it first, so I’m hero.”
I sit cross-legged in the grass, watching with my chin resting on my hands. I’ve been trying to think of my superhero name for the last five minutes. I don’t know how he always just comes up with stuff.
Brett leaps from the table, landing with a clumsy roll. “Kat-boy,” he declares with a deepened voice, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. I stumble into him with a laugh. “You’re my sidekick.”
“Kat-boy?” I scrunch up my nose at him.
“Yeah, you know. You’re Kat-boy, cause your name is Kit and… I dunno, it sounds cool. Sneaky. Like you know karate and save squirrels.”
I blink. “Shouldn’t Kat-boy save…cats?”
Brett jumps around, trying and failing at making his cape billow. It’s so small, it barely flaps against his back. “Dude, no. Cats would be so dumb.”
“O…kay?” I agree slowly. I don’t hate it.
Tucker makes a fake gagging noise. “Boooo. Lame. That’s the lamest name I’ve ever heard.”
“I like it,” Brett says, nodding with a confidence he always seems to have. “Brett-man and Kat-boy. We’re unstoppable. Undefeated.”
Bowen snorts from the porch steps. He’s been sitting there, watching from the sidelines. He always likes to watch first, seeing what kind of crazy game Brett comes up with before agreeing to join in. His dark curls are messy from the wind, and he tosses the stick he was peeling into the grass before pushing off the steps, wandering closer.
“Kat-boy?” he repeats, dark eyebrows raised with a slight tilt to his lips. He looks me over, hair pushed back from the swim goggles I forgot to take off, pink dotted dish towel cape. His little smirk grows, and he bumps his shoulder with mine. “More like a kitten.”
I freeze and squint against the bright sun to look up at him. “That’s not a superhero name, Boe.”
“No…” His eyes twinkle with humor when I roll my own at him. “But it fits.”
I’m about to argue, but Brett slings his arms around both Bowen and I, beaming.
“Kitten is definitely what he turns into when he’s not fighting the bad guys,” Brett says. “Cute, cuddly, but don’t want to get on his bad side. Kitten still has claws.”
Bowen snorts again, shrugging. “If you say so, Brett-man.”
“Yep,” Brett says, popping the ‘p,’ and gives his brother’s hair a tug, hard enough that Bowen’s head pulls back. He’s already running away, Bowen chasing after him. “Kat-boy, unleash the claws! There is a lake monster on the loose!”
I run after them, chasing their laughs on the wind.
I don’t think Bowen called me Kit once that summer.
Just kitten.
Kit
Age 8
I don’t want to move. Don’t want to breathe. I keep my hands clasped behind my back as I watch the little specks of golden light flickering between the trees. The last streaks of day are still in the sky, but the lightning bugs are already out. I dig my toes into the grass, watching from the edge of the woods.
It’s one of my favorite parts of summer nights. It feels like magic.
