Summer Journal

THE CARAVAN—TATE'S HOLIDAY PARK

AUGUST 23, 2010, 3 A.M.

If I'd listened to Jake none of it would have happened. We'd never have gone to the party in the first place. Can't stop thinking about that.

Once we got out the pool the twins had gone off somewhere with the girls. I hoped the girls were OK. Frankie was all friendly and chatty while we ate the burned hot dogs (had half mine before I saw it was black on the outside and raw and pink on the inside). She asked Jake all these questions about his dad's farm, all like, oh, I can't believe we've never met you being so close, like she never said he was a tacky yokel or whatever. Smiling and smiling the whole time, all this intense eye contact.

Jake caught my eye. Smiled and shrugged like, she's not so bad. I couldn't smile back. It was too much. Too different from her usual self. Was she high? Her eyes looked wrong, pupils huge.

Had this bad, crampy feeling in my stomach. But I guess at the time it could just have been the gross hot dog.

Oh, she said, suddenly, jumping up. I forgot—I made some brownies! Little midnight feast, Sparrow, like old times.

She reached down and grabbed a Tupperware box, popped off the lid. I took one but I knew I wasn't going to eat it, partly cos I made that mistake before and wanted a clear head and partly cos I felt so sick from the hot dog. Jake took one too. I tried to think of a way to signal that he shouldn't eat it.

Then the buzzer to the gates sounded and Frankie went, who the hell's that? Can't be the olds, they've got a clicker...

I'd totally forgotten. I think it might be Cora, I said. Frankie... I'm so sorry, I forgot to say. I told her about tonight. She's got some stuff she wants to say...

I thought she might kick off, after that stuff with Grandfa. But this new Frankie gave a little what-the-hell shrug and pressed the release for the gate. Smiled her new smile and said: well, the more the merrier.