My Mixed-Up Berry Blue Summer Page 7

  I nodded. I didn’t mention my plan to let entry Number forty-seven be a no-show.

  “I’m glad.” She paused at the door. “I was worried that that woman with her anti-gay flyers upset you.”

  “Not really.” I tried to say it casually, but my face grew hot.

  “When things like that happen, I’m always disappointed. But I never quit.”

  “Quit what?”

  “Standing up for what’s right,” she said, looking out at the rain falling on the lake. “It takes courage to stand up for your beliefs.”

  Maybe Tina was afraid to speak up. It was hard, I knew that. It was hard even for me to tell Tina that she was wrong. Or for me to tell Eva how I felt about the wedding or her (if I even knew). Or to tell Ms. Flynn that I planned to drop out of the contest.

  Ms. Flynn continued. “My friend Alice Walker once wrote that the other choice, the choice not to act and to miss the chance to experience other people at their best, never appealed to her.” She turned to look at me. “It doesn’t appeal to me, either. And I bet it doesn’t to you, either, June.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve registered for the pie contest in the fair. That’s one way to stand up for yourself.” She opened her umbrella. “That’s letting the world know who you are despite how other people define you.”

  I stared. “You mean, as a girl with two moms or a champion pie maker?”

  “Which would you prefer?” she asked. “Think about it.”

  As I watched Ms. Flynn leave, my thoughts bubbled up like a finished pie. I was brave—I had stood up to Tina, to Sam, and even to Lauren’s mother. They were all wrong, all of them, and Mr. Costa, and even the mystery person who had hammered in that first sign. And Mom wanted to marry Eva. She was standing up for herself. We had to keep living our lives, and for me, that meant making pies, the best pies. Even if Mom didn’t know I had entered the Champlain Valley Fair pie competition, I had to make the right choice for me.

  I was going to do it. I had the makings of a champion pie with the lucky berries from Tin Can Island. I needed only two cups of blueberries, and I knew exactly where the most special ones grew.

  ***

  AFTER LUNCH, I grabbed a bowl and hiked up behind the old camp. The rain was light in the woods, and the trees dampened any sounds. The world seemed small, as if only I existed. The pine needles were soft and the cedars sheltering, like arms keeping me safe from the cliff’s edge. A woodpecker hammered on a trunk, startling me.

  Then I smelled sweetness. Or maybe just the sight of the ripe blueberries made my mouth water. They were perfect—a foggy blue that turned purple blue when touched. I couldn’t believe my luck. I found a good spot to sit, where I could reach handfuls all around me. I began picking, stealing a few for my mouth.

  I wished Luke were here. My stomach fluttered a little like when I stood on roller skates for the first time. I wondered if Luke felt anything for me. I wondered, too, if Tina agreed with what her dad told her about my parents. That hate was like a sour ingredient in a pie, and I wondered if you could get the taste out once it was added.

  “Blueberries!”

  I looked up. Little Tim Costa was sitting in my bushes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Me and Tina are picking berries,” he said between swallows.

  Tina was right behind him.

  “Hi.” I felt a sudden irrational anger—this was my secret spot, my special berries for my champion pie.

  “There was nothing to do at the farm.” She sat down and began to pick.

  I ignored her. I didn’t say anything, either about Tim getting a stomachache or muddy, which he was doing. I wasn’t about to be friendly.

  Tina wasn’t her usual self, either. She worked quietly, sitting near but not too close. Maybe she would say she was sorry. Then I wondered if I should apologize for yelling—or leave.

  After a long time, she spoke. “Did you decide what kind of pie to make?”

  “Yes.”

  “More blueberries,” Tim said, walking toward another bush.

  “Don’t go too far,” she said. When he was out of earshot, she leaned over. “At the fair, after you left, Sam slipped on a cow patty.”

  I grinned. I couldn’t help it.

  “He deserved it,” Tina said. “I don’t care how you were born. He shouldn’t have said that.”

  “What about Lauren and Kelly?” I blurted out.

  “They don’t mean anything by it.”

  I looked right at her. “I’m going to speak up next time. I’m going to do it for Mom and Eva.”

  Tina picked a few blueberries and put them in my bowl. “My mom’s making the same old strawberry pie. I bet you’ll win with these blueberries.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Then I asked, “What do your parents really think of my mom and Eva?”

  Tina looked down and rolled a berry around in her hand. “Mom is a good friend to M.J., even when my dad starts talking. And I like Eva.”

  “They’re all I’ve got,” I said.

  The rain still fell, dappling the surface of the lake.

  “I think it must be cool to be an only child,” Tina said. “I’m sick of brothers.” Suddenly we both looked up. “Tim?”

  I scrambled to my feet. “I’ll go this way; you go that way.”

  Tina called for Tim, her voice rising in fear. My own palms grew sweaty. Then we both heard a splash.

  “June!” Tina pointed.

  I looked down the cliff at large circles—too large to be the wake of a fish feeding.

  “He can’t swim! How do you get down?”

  “There’s only one way.” I slid off my sneakers. I eased down to the lower shelf, remembering how just weeks ago the boys had egged me on. This time the silence from the lake screamed; Tim was taking too long to come up. Fears passed from my mind to my hands, which became as wet as if I were already in the water—what if I jumped on him? What if he pulled me under? What if I hit a rock?

  Then I thought of Luke. I jumped without looking.

  My breath was gone. I made no noise. I couldn’t see. Then I hit hard and my shorts sheared up, and water burned in my nose. I came up for air, untangled my arms from my shirt, and shook my hair. Tim! I spotted him. He had found the surface, thrashing. I was glad he wasn’t sinking, but when I touched him, he pulled on me and we both went under. I kicked and kicked with all my might.

  “Tim, it’s June—stop—” My mouth filled with water, and I struggled free of him to cough and catch my breath.

  His frightened eyes fixed on me, and I reached for him again.

  “It’s me,” I said. I locked my arm around his shoulders and head. The right position returned from some far-off pocket of my mind; a swim instructor had once shown me a rescue hold. Tim still struggled but began to relax.

  Treading water, I turned to the cliff. We had drifted out far. I couldn’t see Tina—where was she? It would be a long swim, and then what? Tim was too small to climb the cliff. But I had to reach the edge, at least to rest.

  I kicked my legs, scissorlike, trying a sidestroke with Tim’s awkward bulk across my body. My mouth kept filling with water, though I wasn’t sure if it was lake or rain. I gasped and struggled for a rhythm. As the cliff neared, I looked left and right, hoping to find a ledge, a place where I could pull Tim up. He was crying steadily now. The cliffs seemed sheer, like a fortress—where was the path Luke had used? Where was Tina? I began to panic, when my leg banged against something. A rock! I pulled my knees up and planted my feet firmly on the submerged rock.

  “Tim, we’re OK now.” I tried to show him how he could stand up, but he clung tighter to me, crying harder. I made some soothing sounds until I could no longer think of anything to say. We’re both alive, I reminded myself. I held on to him, my arms aching, while he cried. I don’t know when he stopped or when we stopped shivering. I stood like a heron, waiting, cold.

  And then I heard the unmistakable sound of a moto
r.

  “June!”

  It was Eva and Luke. I had never been so happy to see them.

  In a moment, Eva had pulled Tim from me, stripped his clothes off, and wrapped him in a blanket. Luke helped me on board, throwing a sweatshirt my way before gunning the motor.

  “Tina used your light to signal to me,” he said. “She told me you jumped off the cliff.” He gave me a smile. “Not so hard, right?”

  “Right.” I began to shiver again.

  “Put on the sweatshirt,” Eva said, fussing over me. I struggled to put my arm through, and she pulled on the sleeve and drew me in for a quick hug. “You did a brave thing.” My insides began to thaw.

  ***

  BACK AT THE marina, Mom grabbed the bow of the boat, and Tina sobbed as Eva carried Tim to shore.

  “I ran all the way to your house—I was so afraid—” Tina gasped, and pulled Tim in for a hug.

  “That was the right thing to do,” Eva said. “He’s OK. June saved him.”

  “Oh, June,” Mom said as she wrapped a towel around me. She kept her arms around me in the warmest hug. In a moment Eva joined us. I looked up at her. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “I’ve been working on my boating skills,” Eva admitted.

  I glanced at Mom as I answered Eva. “You don’t have to love boats like Mom and I do.”

  “How else can I be a part of this family?” Eva said, then added in her doctor voice, “Let’s get these two by the wood stove. Your mom started it.”

  Inside was the best kind of warm, not just stove-warm but people-warm.

  “June thought she was too chicken to jump, but I knew she could,” Luke said.

  “I don’t think I could ever do it again,” I said, but as the words came out, I knew it wasn’t true.

  Just then, the Costas arrived. Their eyes went straight to Tim, who was wearing a Stillwater Marina T-shirt and drying by the stove.

  “Timmy!” Mrs. Costa hugged him tight. Mr. Costa put his arm around both his wife and son. “No more cliff hikes for you, young man,” he said, and brushed Tim’s wet hair off his forehead.

  “I slipped.” Tim started to cry again. “June jumped in to get me.”

  “You’re a brave girl,” Mr. Costa said to me. “Thank you.”

  “It was Tina’s quick thinking, too, to signal Luke,” Mom said. “You have a fine daughter.”

  “As do you,” Mrs. Costa said.

  “Won’t you stay for a coffee? And I think we have some pie, too,” Eva said.

  A silence stretched—and stretched. It was as if my red lens-covered flashlight had flickered on and beamed the word LESBIANS above our heads, filling that silence. Mr. Costa stepped right into it, firm. “I think we’ll just get Tim home. He’s dry now.”

  “Thank you for the kind offer,” Mrs. Costa said as she picked up Tim.

  I felt like a statue, but Tina nearly knocked me over with a hug. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

  I held her tight.

  “See you at the fair,” she said. “Good luck with your pie.”

  “You entered the pie contest?” Mom and Eva said together.

  I nodded. I looked from one to the other. “I didn’t want to give up.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Eva said.

  “That’s what I was doing on the cliff,” I said. “I was collecting those blueberries you found for me, Luke. I want to make a blueberry-strawberry–black raspberry pie.”

  “I’ll go back and get them,” he said.

  “I’ll bring strawberries over tomorrow,” Tina said.

  Luke cheered. “This is going to be the best pie!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE MORNING OF opening day of the Champlain Valley Fair was hot and sunny. I had spent the day before making my pie with wild blueberries, strawberries, and the black raspberries. Mom had watched me, but I did it all by myself. I carefully wrote down everything that I put in, including the pinch of cinnamon, and named it “Wild Berry Pie.” The crust was just right—and I didn’t burn it.

  “June, you ready?” Mom called. “Luke’s already here!”

  I scrambled to get on my clothes. All the pie entries had to be turned in by ten a.m. The judges would make their decision by three p.m.

  Cars were already lined up at the fairgrounds gate. Music, voices, and farm sounds intermingled with the smells of funnel cake, cotton candy, and barbecue. People crowded the ticket booth, and Luke and I surged ahead to the gate.

  “Look, there’s a huge sand castle!” Luke shouted.

  Plastic figurines jousted on the drawbridge, and a flag flew from the top of the turreted castle.

  “See that—there’s even a dragon in the moat!”

  “We can look more later,” Eva said. “Let’s go to the culinary hall and drop this pie off.”

  The culinary hall overflowed with smells and sights—giant pumpkins and sunflowers, perfect roses in pencil-thin vases, and tomatoes of every variety. Baked breads and a whole section of muffins stood in neat rows. A few had ribbons—blue for first, red for second, yellow for third, and white for honorable mention. I squeezed Mom’s hand then, and tried to imagine a blue ribbon on my pie.

  A long table was lined with a sea of pies already. As Mom handed over my creation, I felt like it was swallowed up. Would Number forty-seven stand out from all the rest?

  Mom and Eva insisted on riding the merry-go-round next, even though Luke and I complained we were too old. But somehow bobbing up and down on the paint-chipped horses together was the perfect way to start the day.

  “We’re off to the arts and crafts,” Mom said. “We’ll meet back at the hall at three, OK?”

  Luke and I went through the haunted house and on every fast, spinning ride we saw. We played the arcade games until Luke shot down enough balloons to win a bear. “For you,” he said. My insides jumped in a much nicer way than when I had gone off the cliff.

  “Let’s get our picture taken,” Luke said. In the photo booth, we sat side by side, with the bear in my lap. Luke pulled on his ears and I laughed; when we looked at the five pictures, Luke was silly in every one. In last year’s photos, I remembered, Tina had been with us.

  “Let’s go see if Moonbeam won,” I said.

  The farmyard section was like a different world within the fair. Funnel cake fumes were replaced with the scent of hay mixed with the manure of so many animals—goats, chickens, rabbits, and, of course, cows.

  “Hey, Luke and June!” Tina was waving her hands by Moonbeam’s stall. “I won second place!”

  We high-fived, and I gazed at Moonbeam’s glistening sides. “You must have been here early, brushing her.”

  “Yeah, my dad and I got here at seven a.m.,” she said. “Mom’s keeping Tim on a short leash, too, over by the 4-H booth.”

  I went over and gave Tim another hug. “Next time you go swimming, wear a life jacket, OK?”

  Just then, Sam came up. “I’m done spreading the hay. Can I go now?”

  “Where are your manners? Say hello to June,” Mrs. Costa said.

  “Hey, June,” he said. I waited for him to say something low.

  Instead, Mrs. Costa came around the table and squeezed me hard. “You’re one special girl. I know your mom is raising you right.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “And she sure taught you how to make pie,” she said.

  “Did you win?” Tina asked.

  Mrs. Costa looked at her watch. “It’s time to go see.”

  ***

  LUKE, TINA, AND I ran, dodging people, past the tractors, booths of tie dye and Indian jewelry, and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. We ran into the culinary hall.

  Mom and Eva almost collided with us.

  “There you are!” Mom grabbed my hand. “They’re about to announce the winners of the adult division. Kids will be next.”

  “Let’s go,” Eva said. She reached for my other hand. Our grasp was unsure at first, but her hand was warm
and steady.

  The main room was crammed with people and reporters. The pie contest was always the most popular event of the culinary section. So many farm stands displayed their winning ribbons for the tourists to see. And it mattered for Stillwater Marina, I thought, holding my breath, not just for me.

  A woman with braided hair and an orange JUDGE tag picked up the microphone. “Once again, we had the most fabulous sampling of berry pies this year. Let’s give a hand to all of our pie makers!”

  After the applause died down, she spoke again. “And now our winners. In third place, to Ms. Lisa Banks, for her ‘Very Blueberry Pie.’”

  The winner shouted and ran up to receive her yellow ribbon.

  “The last two pies were so tasty, it was hard to decide which was better, but second place goes to our longtime winner, Shelly Costa, for her ‘Costa Farm Strawberry Pie’!”

  “Yeah!” Tina yelled as her mom moved forward to receive her red ribbon.

  Luke clapped my shoulder. “You could be next,” he whispered.

  I held my breath and wiped my sweaty hands on my pants. It was almost like standing on the edge of the cliff.

  “And first place goes to a new entrant this year, for a fabulous ‘Wild Berry Pie’: June Farrell!”

  I gasped. Mom and Eva both said, “What?!”

  “The judges were impressed by the unusual berry combination, wild flavor, and exquisite crust.”

  “Wild flavor!” hooted Luke. “I knew it!”

  “Go ahead and get your ribbon,” Tina said.

  I couldn’t stop smiling. I had won! I pushed my hair back. “Excuse me,” I said, and the crowd moved aside so I could get through. It seemed like miles to the stage.

  “Are you June Farrell?” the judge asked, her smile fading.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Did you enter the adult competition?”

  I nodded, suddenly cold.

  “Just a minute.” She walked away to talk with the other judges on the side of the stage. They whispered, rereading my registration form. I couldn’t look at the audience; I studied the edge of the stage, feeling small.

  “She entered fair and square!” A voice rose from the crowd. I hoped it wasn’t Eva, speaking up again. And then I stared. Mrs. Costa and the other winner, Lisa Banks, were approaching the stage.