Matt took Aunt Lucy’s car keys and ran up to the rec field to get her car, which we packed just as quickly. The kids in the Lodge were singing a chorus of “Do Your Ears Hang Low?” as Matt leaned in to give me a hug goodbye.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said.
“Me either,” I replied.
“Listen.” He held me by the shoulders. “No matter what, if you need something,anything, you call me.” His voice was shaking. “You understand me?” He looked like he was going to cry but was trying to hold himself together for my sake.
Am I really leaving now? Do I need to sign out at the office?
“I feel like I’m sneaking away,” I said.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Aunt Lucy said, heading out to the road to wait in the car. Matt nodded a thank you at her.
“My dad’s in jail,” I whispered.
“Oh, Roberts.” Matt wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “It’s going to be okay.” He stroked my hair. “I promise. We’ll figure this out. They’ll get your dad treatment. And you and I have done long distance before. We’ll be okay.”
I couldn’t feel any of it, so I just nodded.
“I’ll call you. Every day. And I’ll come to Boston on my days off. I’ll take the ferry to Connecticut and drive from there.” His eyes were feral, a combination of sorrow and fear and love, so I didn’t even bother to mention that a sojourn like that would take no less than fourhours each way. And that was fromcamp.From home it would take even longer.
I took his hand and kissed it. “It’ll be okay,” I repeated robotically, before leaning into him. Matt kissed me, pressing his lips onto mine hard, as if he was trying to imprint himself on me.
As if I could ever forget him.
“I love you so much,” he said when he finally pulled away.
“I love you, too,” I replied. We stood there for a moment until finally I dropped his hand and said, “I better go.”
He nodded, trying to be strong.
I walked, one foot in front of the other with the precision of someone about to walk the plank, down the dirt path the 30 or so feet to the road. I climbed into the passenger side of my aunt’s car.
“Are you ready, honey?” Aunt Lucy asked.
I nodded silently, looking out the window at Matt, who was waving with one hand and wiping the tears off his cheeks with the other.
Aunt Lucy put the car in drive, and I lifted a hand to wave back at Matt until he was out of view. We drove down the long, gravel road, passing the Lodge, the Camp Office, the Council Fire ring, the Home-Ec Center, the horse stables, the camp rocks and the rec field, the Gate House, and out onto the main road, through the same entrance Matt and I had just rushed through less than an hour before.
Just like that, everything I ever knew was gone.
Chapter nineteen
7 Years Ago
Graduation is one of life’s dichotomies. It’s an ending, but it’s also a beginning.
It was all I could think about as I listened to the provost’s eternally lengthy speech about creating positive social change in the world. This was my second time graduating from UConn, so there was definitely an element of déjà vu in the air. The first time was four years before, when I earned my bachelor’s degree in psychology. Then, after a year of meandering, I went back to get a master’s degree in social work. The commencement ceremony and saying goodbye to my aunt were the only things standing in the way of the next chapter of my life. The car was packed with my personal belongings; the apartment I rented with my roommates in downtown Hartford came furnished, so I only had to take the contents of my bedroom, which really wasn’t much.
Aunt Lucy was kind enough to leave my bedroom in Beacon Hill untouched so I wouldn’t have to rush to figure out a plan once the summer ended. But the thought of going back there was becoming less and less palatable. For one thing, it was cramped. She had erected a wall in her own stately master to carve out a space for me in the old brownstone, but the room was windowless and small, and I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of sharing a kitchen and a bathroom with awoman three times my age. Secondly, while most of my graduating classmates were moving on to chase big city jobs in places like New York, Chicago, or Boston (because the school psychology positions were abundant in those gigantic public school systems), I’d already tried the whole brand-new life in a big citything at the end of high school, and I wasn’t a fan. In fact, the last thing I wanted was another fresh start, especially now that I’d finally weaned myself off the anti-depressants I’d been taking for what felt like an eternity. Also, my soul craved the sense of being home. Unfortunately, for all of Lucy’s best efforts, Boston would never be home to me. And since Queens wasn’t an option anymore, I was headed to the next best place. Still, my stomach twisted into knots as I considered the fact that of all my peers it felt like I was the only one moving backwards.
At least I had a job lined up. And after the initial shock of being back, I was certain I’d find the comfort I craved in the smell of the air, that particular mix of salt and pine. At least, I hoped so. One of my professors had said that when a young person is ripped from their childhood suddenly, their body might relocate, but their soul remains. Perhaps that explained my unequivocal, nostalgic yearning to return to Sound Hollow.
Growing impatient, I listened to the remaining speeches, shook hands with the appropriate people, got my diploma and said my requisite, rushed goodbyes to classmates and a few select teachers. I scanned the crowd for Aunt Lucy, who waved from a seat towards the back of the outdoor pavilion.
I politely slid past families who crowded the aisle. By the time I reached my aunt, I felt claustrophobic, wanting more than anything to shed the cap and gown and light up a cigarette.
“There you are,” my aunt began. “That was a very nice ceremony.”
