"No problem," He gracefully moved through the water and set me down on dry land. "Until tomorrow night." His face turned serious. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, but I'd rather we kept this our little secret. If we don't we'll have company. I know these kids here. They can be pains in the rear end.

Besides, I like secrets, don't you?"

"No," I said quickly and so firmly, he raised his eyebrows.

"Not even secrets of the heart?"

I didn't want to tell him that I had never really had any, so I just shrugged. He laughed. "Bet you just got a sea chest full of love secrets," he teased.

"You'd lose." I started backing away. "I have to go. Thanks for the ride."

He stood there, watching me walk quickly over the sand. Then he turned and waded through the water to his boat. I stopped to watch him accelerate and spin through the waves. I felt as if I had stepped in and out of a movie. He had been right about the boat ride. The dreariness that had washed over me had dried up with my tears. I had a new bounce in my step as I hurried over the beach toward my uncle and aunt's house, wondering if I would have the nerve to meet Adam Jackson tomorrow night.

"Where were you, honey?" Aunt Sara asked as soon as I entered the house. She was in the doorway of the living room. She looked at my sneakers and socks in my hand. I had simply forgotten to put them on or roll down my dungarees.

"I just took a walk on the beach," I said quickly.

"You shouldn't go anywhere without telling your aunt or me," I heard my uncle Jacob cry from behind her in the living room. "Your aunt shouldn't have to go looking for you, hear?"

"Yes," I said. "Sorry," I told Aunt Sara and ran up the stairs before she could ask or say anything else.

Cary heard me pound the steps and came out of his room.

"You all right?" he asked as I turned down the hallway.

"Yes."

His eyes grew smaller with interest and he stepped closer, a textbook in his hand.

"I heard you run out, but by the time I put on my sneakers, you were over the hill. I figured you wanted to be alone, maybe to sort things out," he said.

"Sort things out?" I started to laugh. "It would be easier to unravel a bee hive."

He nodded and then his eyes widened with interest. "You look like you got some sun."

I couldn't keep my eyes from shifting guiltily away. Did he notice the flush on my face, the excitement in my eyes? Daddy used to say they were like little window-panes, with my thoughts as clear as newsprint.

"You were walking in the water?" Cary continued nodding at my sneakers in my hand and my rolled up dungarees. Tiny grains of sand were in between my toes.

"I'm tired," I said moving to my room. "I'm going to rest before dinner."

"Melody?"

I turned.

He held up the book.

"I was wondering if after dinner you might-"

"That's your English textbook?"

"Yes. We have a test tomorrow on clauses. The only clause I know is Santa Claus," he said glumly.

"It's not really hard. I'll show you some tricks my teacher in West Virginia showed me."

"Thanks."

"Where's May?"

"She's doing her homework, too," he said. I nodded and went into my room, softly closing the door behind me. For a few moments I stood there, reining in my emotions. I had gone from anger and sadness to excitement and thrills. I couldn't be more confused about this place, I thought. My family was hard and unpleasant, but May was sweet and hungry for love, and Cary . . . Cary was more sensitive and caring than he let on. The ocean could be cold and gray, and no thunderstorm in West Virginia was as frightening as the storm we had had the other night- the nor'easter Cary called it. Yet today, the ocean was delightful, exciting and the beach was warm and inviting.

Didn't I hate it here? Didn't I want to just run away?

And yet, Adam Jackson's handsome face lingered before my eyes and his compliments echoed in my ears. Was I really as pretty as he said I was? I gazed at myself in the mirror. Was there as much potential beauty as he claimed he saw? Was he making up what he had told me the other girls thought of me? I didn't want to become conceited, and yet, I didn't want to underestimate myself and become some mousy creature with no self-confidence, terrified of life like . . . like Aunt Sara hovering in Uncle Jacob's dark shadow.

I sat at the vanity table and thought and then I gazed down at the pile of letters bound with a rubber band. They were Laura's letters from her boyfriend. I had no right to look at them, and yet, I couldn't help wondering what sort of a relationship they had had before their tragic end.

I took off the rubber band and opened the first envelope. The handwriting was pretty, an almost artistic script. The letter had been written on blue stationery.

Dearest Laura, I had a wonderful time yesterday. I don't know how many times I've walked on that beach, but yesterday, with you, it suddenly seemed more beautiful than ever. I didn't mean to take you away from your work. I know Cary was upset with me for just appearing unexpectedly. When I get a chance, I"ll apologize to him for stealing you away and leaving him with all the lobsters and fish.

But I'll never apologize for taking you anywhere. I'm glad you feel the same way about me that I feel about you. I've felt this for a long time, but I didn't have the courage to tell you. Don't ask me why I have it now. I think it's because of the way you smiled at me in the cafeteria that day. It gave me all the nerve I needed.

I'm not used to writing letters to girls or anyone. Actually, you're the first girl I've ever written a letter to, not counting my cousin Susie. 1 know it's hard for you to talk long on the telephone. Besides, it's kind of exciting receiving letters from you, too. I'm just nervous about mailing the letters and maybe having someone else read them. You know who. He never seems to be happy to see me around, even when I'm not taking you away from helping your father.

Maybe, when he feels about a girl the way I feel about you, he"ll be more understanding. I know what you meant when you said you were afraid of how you felt about me sometimes. It's a bit overwhelming, but I'm not ashamed of it and never will be. I hope you feel that, too. I promise, I'll try to control myself more, but you know what they say about promises lovers make. Just kidding, only, please don't hate me for loving you more than I should.

I like writing to you, Laura. I see your face in front of me as I think of the words. It makes me want to write to you all night. Until I see you, hold me in your heart.

Love, Robert Tears filled my eyes. Would I ever have anyone love me as much as Robert Royce loved Laura? If they had something so beautiful, why did they have to die so tragically and so young? I sighed and thought about reading another letter, but there was a sharp knock on my door. I guiltily stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

"Yes?"

Cary entered. His gaze moved from me to the pile of letters and then back to me.

"My mother says you have a phone call. A girl friend from Sewell."

"Alice!" I jumped up. "Thanks."

I went downstairs quickly, forgetting that I still hadn't put on my sneakers and socks. This time, Uncle Jacob wasn't sitting near the phone, ready to listen.

Aunt Sara held the receiver away from her as if it were a forbidden object that might contaminate her.

"Jacob doesn't approve of young people gossiping on the telephone," she whispered. "Don't be long."

"Thank you," I said and took the receiver.

"Alice?"

"Hi. Was it all right for me to call now? Your aunt sounded upset."

"It's all right. I'm happy to hear from you so soon."

Aunt Sara gave me a look of warning and stepped gingerly out of the room.

"I miss you and I miss Sewell," I added as soon as she was gone. "More than I ever expected."

"Oh? Well, I don't have good news. Papa George is in the hospital and when I asked Mama Arlene about your mother and your things, she told me she hasn't heard a word from your mother since you all left."

"Mommy never called her?"

"Not yet. I thought I had better tell you."

"How is Papa George doing?"

"He's in intensive care. He's very sick, Melody.

I'm sorry."

"I should be there," I moaned. "I don't know what to do."

"What can you do?" Alice asked in her habitual blunt manner.

"Nothing until Mommy calls me."

"You really hate it there?"

"There's a lot happening, Alice."

"Tell me," she pleaded.

"I can't. Not on the phone. I'll write you a letter."

"Don't wait. Write it tonight."

"Melody, dear, not too long," I heard Aunt Sara say through the wall. She was probably just on the other side of the door all the while, I thought.

"I've got to hang up, Alice. Thanks for calling."

"Write me and I'll call you the moment I hear that your mother called Mama Arlene," she said quickly. "Thanks. Bye."

I cradled the receiver just as Uncle Jacob came through the front door. He saw Aunt Sara standing in the hallway and me by the phone.

"Was that your mother?" he asked me.

"No. A friend from Sewell."

He glared at Aunt Sara.

"She wasn't on the phone long, Jacob."

He grunted. Then he noticed my bare feet.

"We don't walk through the house half dressed here," he said. For a moment I didn't understand.

"Your feet," he said nodding at them.

"Oh. I just came down quickly. It was a long-distance phone call and-"

"A decent girl always thinks about those things first," he chastised.

"I am a decent girl," I fired back.

"We'll see," he said, undaunted, and started up the stairs. "Getting dressed for dinner," he muttered toward Aunt Sara.

"Okay, Jacob. We'll have a good Sunday dinner," she promised. "Don't worry," she whispered to me. "He'll soon see that you're as sweet as Laura was, and then everything. . . everything will be wonderful again," she added. Her eyes glittered with hope. "Hurry and get cleaned up and dressed so you can set the table, dear."

I watched her walk away with that fragile smile on her face. Aunt Sara had wrapped herself snugly in her illusions, but illusions, I thought, were just dressed up lies. Someday the weight of the truth would come down on her glass house and shatter her dreams even more.

I didn't want to be here when all that happened.

I wanted to be far away. I wanted to be in a place where people didn't have to lie to each other to live with each other.

Was there such a place? And even if there were such a place, could I, a daughter born in a world of deceit, ever hope to find it?

With Daddy dead and gone and Mommy off searching for her own private dreams, I felt like an orphan, a hobo begging for a handout of love. No wonder my eyes saw Adam Jackson's eyes and my ears were so receptive to his words.

I'll meet him tomorrow night, I thought defiantly. Not even one of Cape Cod's treacherous nor'easters could keep me away.

12.

An English Lesson .

At dinner everyone appeared to be in a subdued mood, even May. After Uncle Jacob read his selection from the Bible, we ate in near silence. I thought the heavy atmosphere in the house might be a result of the weather. Although it wasn't raining, a thick fog had rolled in on great billowing waves. It shrouded the landscape, turning everything cold and dreary. Once again, the weather on the Cape surprised me with its fickleness and its ability to change so abruptly. I wondered if there was any way to tell right now what it would be like tomorrow night. Would it rain and thus put off my rendezvous with Adam Jackson?

"Does it often get foggy like this at night?" I asked as innocently as I could. Uncle Jacob raised his eyebrows. Aunt Sara smiled as if I had asked the silliest little question, and Cary looked amused. "This time of year it often does."

"Weathermen might as well toss the dice, as good as they predict these days," Uncle Jacob muttered. "Better off just listening to the creak in your bones."

"Aye," Aunt Sara said. "More potatoes, dear?"

216.