“Nope, I couldn’t.”
There was no group hug this year. No champagne. No feting of Pirates and Paintball weekend. Mr. McCall simply reversed the boat and said, “And we’re off.” The engine chugged heartily beneath us, and the bay winked at us like an old friend. The bay waters were darker than the Gulf, not deeper in their entirety, but deeper close to the shore. The bay sometimes made me claustrophobic. It masqueraded as ocean, but was like a cheap imitation of the real thing.
The parents stayed in their place, up top, with one of the coolers. They’d promised to grill burgers and dogs in an hour. No surprise there. The menu was practically written in permanent ink in the galley. Tomorrow was waffles, sandwiches, and steak for dinner. They’d pretended they wouldn’t make the usual homemade peach ice cream because it was too much trouble, but they’d make it. Routine was something they craved. I guess we did too, because the four of us plopped down in the stern and took our seats.
I checked my watch. We were five minutes away from Gray suggesting we play cards. Nertz, his favorite.
Gina took us on a short detour first.
“You still stuff Big with secrets?” she asked.
“Not secrets,” I corrected her. “You guys always got hung up on that. I just put my thoughts in there.”
Gray tugged his shirt to his lips and sucked on the top button. “Enough to drive you crazy, isn’t it?” he said, flicking Max’s chest. “There’s no telling what she’s said and thought about all of us.”
“Hey, most of it’s good,” I argued.
“Most?” Gray repeated. “Most will kill a man. The gap between all and most is a canyon of suck.”
“In my defense, we haven’t had the best year.”
Gina and Gray didn’t comment. Max stretched a yawn into an arm around my shoulders.
“’Bout damn time we change that, if you ask me,” Gina said after a minute.
Gray kicked his feet up on the seat and said, “Agreed. I say we play some cards.”
Five minutes exactly.
No one argued. We fished decks from our bags and shuffled cards like pros. Minus the wind factor, Nertz was simple enough. At its core, it was a game of group solitaire, except with a speed component. Each player had to empty his or her hand, playing on the aces in the middle. The thing about Nertz was we didn’t talk much, and if we did, it was rated R.
Some kinds of games lent themselves to filthy mouths. Cards was one of them. I always cussed at cards. Always. And I didn’t feel guilty about it, because it was cards. That’s how the game worked. Except none of us was allowed to cuss in front of the parents, and they were definitely within earshot.
Max had a clear advantage with those lousy vocal cords.
“Shit, McCall, you should let it fly. They’ll never hear you,” Gray said.
As soon as Gray said it, one of the parents yelled out, “Language.”
Gray bridged his cards. They slapped onto the deck in that musical way cards do. “See,” he said.
I seriously doubted we’d get in real trouble, but keeping it quiet was half the fun.
“I think they’d let us get away with anything tonight,” Gina said.
“I even show up at something right now, I get a pass,” I said.
“Lucky,” Gray said.
“Right,” Gina chimed in.
Gray’s mom could be harsh, but we were all scared of Sonia. Sonia could light a fire under any of us with wet matches.
“Since we survived the Cannon Balls incident, I think we can probably get by with a little language,” Max said.
“Ohhhhh, the Cannon Balls incident. I’d almost forgotten about that,” Gray said with an infectious laugh.
“Not me,” Gina said.
“Me either,” Max said.
Rock-paper-scissors, who’s been sending me envelopes?
Unfortunately Gina called, “Go,” and the Nertz game began before I could scavenge for any more information.