“We can stay here for a little while, though,” I said. I wanted every part of the day to last as long as possible.
“Sammie. How…” Coop started, then said, “Never mind.”
“No, what?” I asked.
“What do you think of me?” he said, rushed.
His face had turned back toward the water, so I couldn’t see what exactly he meant.
I looked at my feet. “I think you’re Coop,” I said. “You just… are.”
“Do you think I’m just here with you because you’re sick? Because it’s not just because you’re sick.” He had his hands wrapped around his ankles, twisting, nervous. A funny thing to do with all those muscles, the boy inside coming out.
“No,” I said, and he turned. “I just think you’ve been a good friend to me.”
“Yeah, good,” he said, nodding.
A bug jumped into his hair. I couldn’t get it, quite, but I brushed it out. He touched his hair where my fingers had been. “A bug,” I said. “It’s gone.”
I pushed my glasses up my nose.
“I missed you,” he said suddenly, and shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I missed you, too,” I said, also quick. But too quick for how big that feeling was, for how long we had stayed away. I hoped he would come back every day from then on, even though he didn’t like Stuart, and we could have adventures, or just say hello, at least. I wonder what that meant. I took a deep breath and said, “We were different people for a while, but now we’re not. Right?”
“Right. Well, kind of.” He was looking at me, but not quite at my face. I blushed.
We stood. The sun had started warming the water, the rocks.
And then we made that circle I talked about, the one we always used to make on summer days like these.
Down the mountain, to the creek, to outside the general store to talk to Fast Eddy (he told us it was nice to see us again, but he had noticed Coop’s Blazer speeding several times, he’ll let it slide—thanks, Eddy). We had sweat through our shirts by the time we went inside.
There were two Dr Peppers left. “Oh, good,” Coop said, opening the cooler door. “We don’t have to fight.”
“Let me in there with you, I’m burning up.”
We stood as close to the racks as we could, our shoulders pressed together, sticking our faces near the sodas.
Then farther down the creek to drink them. Mine had been shaken up where Coop had kept it in his pocket, so when he opened it for me, it sprayed both of us. We used creek water to get the sticky stuff off our skin, then went up the mountain again. Coop gave me a piggyback ride. I laid my cheek on his back. He was sweaty again, but I didn’t care.
When we got home, Coop showed Bette and Davy all the wonders of Captain Stickman in the front yard.
He kneeled and handed them both long sticks we found near the tree line.
“I now pass the mantle of Captain Stickman to you, Davienne McCoy, and to you, Bette McCoy. Amen.”
“Remember, you can be Captain Stickwoman, you don’t have to be Captain Stickman,” I told them.
“Friend to all humans and animals,” Coop said.
“Amen,” I repeated.
“Ayyyyy-men!” Davy said, and took her stick.
“Ay-women,” Bette said, and took hers as well.
“Exactly,” I told her.
Then we came inside, and after Coop used the bathroom, he saw my note to myself and asked, “What’s that?”
I told him the toothbrush trick, and he had an idea, which I think he can explain better himself.
hello esteemed memory book, cooper lind here, ladykiller and connoisseur of dank weed. anyway i was thinking after seeing sammie’s pasting of stuff on the wall, her notes to herself, maybe it would be a cool idea to paste things all over her house, to help her remember. not just labeling, but more like a memory book of the house? maybe long term memories will help her better access short term? i don’t know, i’m no doctor, but take the bathroom for example: she can have her practical notes to herself, but also a story about a time she had there. like, on the tub, “here’s where sammie and cooper once put kool-aid in the tub when they were six, because they wanted to take a kool-aid bath, and they were grounded from seeing each other for two weeks.” that kind of thing.
Sammie here again. Here are some of them: On the fridge door: What time is it? If it’s 11:30, it’s lunchtime and you can have whatever you want! If it’s earlier than that, you already had breakfast. If it’s later than that, wait for a bit. Mom and Dad will make you dinner. Chocolate milk: anytime!
Once, Harry used one of Sammie’s old chocolate milk cartons to mix wheat paste to use as glue for his “time machine” science project. He had it clearly labeled WHEAT PASTE DON’T DRINK, but Sammie had her nose in a Redwall book and wasn’t paying attention while she grabbed it and took a big mouthful of wheat paste! She spit it all over the fridge door. When she went to go get a rag to clean it up, Davy had thought it felt neat and smeared glitter all over it. Fun fact: that’s why it looks like a unicorn threw up on the door of the fridge!