36.
KIDS ON THE ROCK
Sunday, September 22, 1935
Eventually things settle down. Whether this is because of the talk my father has with the warden or not, I really don’t know. But the sudden fear that hit our island disappears and everything goes back to the way it was—almost everything anyway. Associate Warden Chudley is demoted. The warden finally realized what my dad and everyone else had known for some time. He was not up to his job.
But the biggest change as far as I’m concerned occurs among us kids. What happened when the cons tried to escape changed the way we think about each other. Each of us contributed something important that dark afternoon. Janet saw Theresa running down from up top and she came out with her bullhorn. Theresa found out she’d been right about the importance of Mae’s hummingbird hanky. Jimmy figured out what was going on and snuck down under the dock to set loose his flies to swarm the cons at exactly the right moment. Natalie’s attention to detail helped her spot the fake guns and let me know about them in her own unique way. Annie made use of that perfect pitching arm. And Piper discovered that deep down inside she might just have it in her to love her baby brother.
But it wasn’t just that. It was what Mrs. Mattaman said too . . . about how everybody disappoints you at one time or another and you have to forgive people. That seemed to make a difference too.
At the parade grounds today, Annie throws the first pitch and we all find our places. Jimmy is catcher. He still can’t throw to save his life, but he taught himself to catch pretty well—not bad at all. Theresa is shortstop and I’m on first base. Janet Trixle is up at bat and Natalie is the ump calling the pitches, which she does with machine-like accuracy. And of course Annie chucks her perfect pitches over the base one after another.
Not surprisingly, Piper isn’t here . . . some things never change.
After we’re done playing, Jimmy and Annie and I are walking back down to 64 building when I tell Jimmy it’s too bad he had to let all his flies go and he says, “You don’t care about flies.”
“Yes, I do,” I insist.
“You try to, but that’s different.” He nods toward Annie. “Annie’s never liked the flies, but she told me right at the start. It’s easier that way. This island is too small for pretending.”
I feel the slap in his words and I really want to tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not. “Sorry, Jim,” I say.
He shrugs, takes his glasses off, and cleans them on the tail of his shirt. “We’re all sorry about something,” he says.
“What are you sorry about?” I ask hopefully. I hate to be the only guy who messed up.
“Telling Scout about the secret passageway.”
“Yeah, why’d you do that anyway?”
Jimmy shrugs and rubs his glasses harder. “I thought you were going to tell Scout yourself; I wanted to beat you to the punch. And I was hoping Scout’s opinion of me would . . . you know.”
“Rise above the status of dead girl?” I ask.
He grins into his glasses.
“I’m not sure which is worse, dead girl or auntie,” Annie complains, shifting her baseball pants the way a guy would.
“Okey-dokey is what I said,” I tell her.
“This is supposed to make me feel better?” Annie snaps. “Not that I care. I’ve never been sweet on you, Moose. I’ve always thought you were a slug.”
“Well thank you,” I say, looking out across the bay where a flock of pelicans are flying in awkward formation.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles a little. “I have no idea why my mother would say that. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“No offense, Annie, but your mom has some nutty ideas. She and her needlepoint . . .” I tell her.
Annie snorts. “Moose, Moose, Moose, don’t get me started on that. My mom thinks you love needlepoint.”
“It’s hard to tell when he likes something and when he doesn’t,” Jimmy grumbles.
I wish Jimmy would let up.
Annie’s big lips pucker like she’s thinking about this. “But that’s what we like about him too, isn’t it?” Annie looks past me to Jimmy. “That he tries so hard with everyone.”
I’m glad Annie has said this. I am just being nice. What’s the matter with that? But then I remember walking onto the boat with Seven Fingers’s arm choking my throat, One Arm marching Natalie across, Buddy dragging Piper.
People say I was heroic by calling for help the way I did, but I know how close I came to staying silent.
I scared myself that night. I saw how much I want to get along. But sometimes you have to make trouble. Sometimes making trouble is the right thing to do.
Life is complicated. You’d think on a prison island—what with the bars and the rules and everything—it would all be so clear . . . but it’s not.