Chapter Seventeen

The group got up early, ripped down, and hit the road. Ma and Otis handed out the day’s route and map as Mac addressed everyone.

“Remember, people,” she said before they left, “The traffic can get pretty fast on this road. And even though the wide shoulder is a decent cushion, never forget you’re at a disadvantage on a bike. Sounds obvious, but tell that to the drivers who view us as criminals just for riding on their road. We’re leaving early, so maybe we’ll catch a break on the traffic.”

Dante was anchor, so the girls rode just ahead to keep him company. After the morning break they edged out of the most populated part of the state and were happy to roll over miles of uncrowded, beautiful asphalt. They passed white clapboard New England churches with gurgling streams running alongside. Through the woods they spied remains of ancient moss-covered walls, and an occasional house foundation with just the chimney left standing.

Mackenzie had managed to keep her mind clear during the morning ride. She concentrated on the sun warming her back and arms, and the breeze cooling her down. It was the kind of weather that could make you giddy, but she didn’t want to feel anything. Just ride, she repeated to herself any time a stray thought crept in.

By the time they all met up for lunch she was ready for some outside distraction.

“Hey, Franks, I’m going to check out that store at the end of the block. Maybe I can find something for Lily. You want to come?”

Frankie and Dante followed, and they all headed into the little shop. The bells over the door tinkled as they walked in.

The lady behind the counter had her back turned and was trying to get a stuffed teddy bear to balance on the shelf above her. He was wearing a red tee shirt that read, “I can’t BEAR to leave New England!”

The woman called over her shoulder, “Be right with you!”

The store wasn’t as small as it seemed from the outside. There were long aisles that branched off, each leading to a different category of product. There were old-fashioned soaps and remedies toward the left, and Frankie walked down that row, picking up and sniffing different containers. Dante went toward the right, where there was a room completely dedicated to hats. Mac saw Dante put on a beanie with a kind of helicopter blade on top.

The woman who’d been setting up the teddy bear came up behind Mackenzie. “How can I help you?” she asked.

Mac turned and smiled at the woman. She was tiny, with a short, boyish haircut that reminded Mackenzie of Barb. “I’m looking for a gift for my little sister. She’s going to be six.”

After asking way more questions than Mac had expected, the woman finally pointed her to the back of the store, where a display stood that stopped her short. It was a whole medieval village populated with little handmade dolls. Mackenzie stared at it, remembering.

She had wanted to disappear when her father came to her at night. She learned how to ride away on her flying bicycle, at first envisioning herself in her footie PJs but that wasn’t protection enough. Soon, she imagined wearing a suit of armor like the knights in all those princess books her father bought for her. She never thought about being the princess, ever. Mac didn’t want to be the person who needed rescuing. She wanted to be the rescuer.

Now she stood, looking at the figurines. Each one was painted with delicate, detailed accuracy. Surrounding a castle, complete with turrets and drawbridge, there was a doll villager in a horse-driven hay wagon, doll maidens roaming the cobblestone streets next to oxen, and doll children playing. Inside the castle Mac could see jousting doll knights and the doll royalty they served.

She plucked the princess from the tower and stared at it in the palm of her hand, and smiled. Lucky Lily. She reached over and grabbed up one of the knights in her other hand. She brought them to the register and paid for them.

“Am I wrapping them both?”

“Just the princess, please,” Mac told the woman as she zipped the little knight into the pocket in the back of her shammy.

The saleslady prattled on about local attractions as she wrapped the princess for Lily in a purple box with lots of red, pink, and orange ribbons, which she curled so they spilled over the edge of the box like a multi-colored waterfall.

Mackenzie fingered the ribbon as she waited outside for Dante and the girls to finish up, and tried to grasp another thought that had rolled out of her reach. Just as she was about to connect with it, Dante exited the shop waving his new beanie in the air, and it was gone. She sighed and pushed whatever it was back to the corners of her mind, tucked the little box into her pack in the van and went to eat her lunch.

By the end of the day, Mackenzie was as exhausted from trying not to think as she was from the ride. They arrived at their destination, a house right in front of a lake, where Otis was already waiting in the van.

Ma disappeared for a couple of minutes, then trotted back down the walk jangling a ring with lots of keys attached.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked.

“Where are we staying, Ma? I thought we were at a hostel tonight?”

MaToya and Otis grinned at each other. “I know we only just started, but this was the only available time we could stay here,” Ma said.

Murmurs rolled through the small group. Ma continued, “The house belongs to the family of one of my roommates at UVM. They own all this land, down to the lake, where there’re a bunch of cottages further down the property. That’s where we’ll be staying. They usually rent them out over the fourth but an entire family reunion cancelled at the last minute and she just let me know. So we’ll kick it here for Independence Day.”

Mac whispered to Frankie, “Geez, I forgot all about the holiday.”

“You would.” Frankie knitted her eyebrows together and looked at Mackenzie.

Mac made a big cheerleading gesture like she was holding pom-poms and then forced a gigantic smile. “Rah-rah America.” No wonder I blanked it, Mac thought. The fake-y patriotism wasn’t the only reason she’d always hated the Fourth of July. Barb and her Dad loved spending time at the beach house, and she was stuck going to the stupid club for a massive barbecue and boring conversation. And worse, having to help decorate for the annual Father-Daughter dance, because even though she never went, all the member’s kids put it on.

She should relax, though, since this year she was off the hook. Nothing like a bike trip to get out of your responsibilities! Yet she still felt uncomfortable somehow. The snakes were slithering around her stomach, and once again had that niggling, unfinished business feeling — like when she’d taken an apple out of the fridge and had forgotten all about it, leaving it somewhere after only one or two bites. She knew there was something around needing her attention, but just couldn’t put her finger on it. She ran her fingers through her hair and decided once again to push thoughts of Grady, Sophie and her father out of her mind.

After they dumped their stuff in the cabins, Mac, Dante, and Frankie walked through a wooded path to the lake. As they got closer, Frankie broke into a run, whooping it up, and kept going until she stopped and crouched down near the water’s edge a couple hundred feet from them.

Dante whistled when they came through the thicket, seeing the lake glistening in the elate afternoon sunlight. “Ma said there are over two hundred lakes around here. There’s tons of stuff to do, too. We could get a kayak, or take one of those boat cruise tours. Oh! I know—you guys want to go strawberry picking tomorrow before the fireworks?” He leaned down and chose the perfect rock for skipping across the still surface of the lake. “Even though I still say it doesn’t seem right to have fireworks the day before July Fourth.”

“What are you going to do? There are actually people who have to work the day after.”

“Suckers.”

Frankie was still sitting on her haunches, and they watched as she plugged into her music.

“I can’t believe she hasn’t been busted yet.”

They walked closer and could hear her singing to herself as she picked up and examined different stones, and then tossed them back into the icy water where they landed with a plop. Her voice drifted toward them. It was the same song she had been listening to in the tent. Mac recognized it now. It was a remake of an old song. In a flat, tuneless voice, Frankie sang:

If you can fly away, fly away,

Little princess

Dream a dream with any scene,

My little princess …

Before she could think or stop herself, Mackenzie turned and threw up in a bush. Frankie and Dante rushed over to her. Frankie put her hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Maybe you ate something weird,” Dante suggested.

Mac wiped her mouth as best she could and waved them off. She went down to where the tiny waves lapped at the shore and washed her mouth out with a handful of lake water. “I hope this stuff is clean!” she quipped, trying to refocus their attention. But they were worried about her and weren’t to be distracted.

“C’mon, let’s walk you up to the cabin. You can take a shower and maybe get a nap in before dinner,” Frankie said.

Dante folded his arms and shook his head at her. “What are we going to do with you, girlie girl? Our leader’s not allowed to get sick on us. Lucky for you we’re here a couple of days so you can rest up and get better.”

Mac’s stomach didn’t feel any better after she showered. The snakes were back, and they’d brought along the scorpions and spiders. Her friends had left her to rest, pulling the curtains and leaving her in semi-darkness. They all thought she was coming down with something. And she was.

Memories.

My little princess.

The song played over and over in her mind. Mackenzie could see it all now, her father holding her in his arms, twirling them around the dance floor. She wore the dress her mom had given her. The special party dress covered in red polka dots. Mac rubbed her arms as she remembered the puffy sleeves with the tight elastic that made her arms itch.

But she hadn’t cared about that. It was her magical night, the one her mama had told her about. That’s why she’d gotten the dress then, because she knew she wouldn’t be around to buy it for her when it was time to go to the dance. But Mackenzie had grown more than her mother could’ve predicted, and the sleeves were too tight. The dress was a little too small all over. But Mama had picked it out, it was the last gift she’d given Mac before dying, and Mackenzie refused to wear anything else.

It was her magical night, and she wore her special princess dress and she felt like a for real princess. Daddy said it was her royal ball, and he let her sit on his lap to watch the fireworks after. She snuggled in his arms, and he hugged her as the explosions crashed and boomed overhead. Splitting into a million sparkly diamonds, just like on a princess crown.

She remembered watching the explosions. Swinging her legs as she sat on her father’s lap. The dress rode up. It was too short, and she was tugging at the hem. She went over it in her mind again.

Tugging the hem.

The fireworks.

Sitting on his lap.

When had she gotten the food on her dress? Had she ruined it?

No. She hadn’t.

But was it her fault, what happened next?