She tilted it to her mouth, took a sip, pulled a face, and spit a mouthful of beer into the wind. “It’s awful,” she said.
“Hey, who’s spitting?” Sandy yelled from the stern.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rhoda said, turning toward her. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t think...”
“That’s all right,” Sandy shouted. “David, why don’t you get her a beer?”
“She doesn’t want one!” David shouted.
“What?”
“I don’t want one!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like the taste of it!” Rhoda yelled.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” David said. He brought his bottle to his lips, took a long swallow, said, “Ahhhhhh,” and then belched. “Beg your pardon,” he said, and grinned, and drank some more.
“It looks good, but it tastes awful,” Rhoda said.
“It tastes wonderful,” David said, and drained his bottle. “Ahhhh,” he said again, and then threw the empty over the side.
“Doesn’t that mess up the ocean?”
“It’s a mighty big ocean.”
“I wish I had a nickel for every beer bottle on the bottom.”
“Who wants the tiller?”
“I’ll take it,” David said, and went back.
Sandy stood up and stretched. “Mmmm,” she said, “what a day. Where’d you put my bag, David?”
“In the cockpit,” he said, and she went below, out of sight.
“How far is the island?” Rhoda asked.
“Oh, five or six miles, that’s all,” I said.
“Is the water calm there?”
“Very calm. Nice little cove, no waves.”
“Shallow?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
“I was thinking maybe we should have gone over to the bay.”
“Too many little kids there.”
“You want to learn to swim with a lot of little kids around?” David yelled from the stern.
“No, but...”
“You’ll like the island, don’t worry,” I said.
“It won’t work, anyway,” Rhoda said. “You’ll see. I’ll sink straight to the bottom. You’ll have to rescue me,” she said, and giggled.
“It’s unnatural not to stay afloat,” I said. “Isn’t that right, David?”
“Absolutely,” he yelled. “If you just relax, you can’t possibly sink.”
Sandy came out of the cockpit, carrying her beach bag. She took a towel from it, spread it on the deck, sat, and opened a tube of suntan lotion. She greased her face and her arms and her chest and the front of her legs, and then she handed the tube to me, rolled over on the towel and said, “Would you do my back, please, Peter?”
“You’re so tan,” Rhoda said. “Do you still need that?”
“Keeps the skin from drying out,” Sandy said. “Wait a minute, Peter.” She reached behind her and undid the bikini top, lying flat on the towel, dropping the ties on either side of her body. “Okay,” she said.
I squeezed some of the lotion out onto the palm of my hand and began spreading it on her back.
“Do you all know each other from the city?” Rhoda asked.
“No, we met out here,” Sandy said.
“You seem like such close friends.”
“We are.”
“Actually,” I said, “David and I have known each other a long time.”
“Where do you go to school?” Rhoda asked.
“Me?”
She nodded.
“The Mercer School. That’s on Sixty-first.”
“Yes, I know where it is. I live in Manhattan.”
“Really? Where?”
“Peter, please pay attention to what you’re doing,” Sandy said.
“Sorry.”
“On Eightieth and West End,” Rhoda said.
“Would you do the backs of my legs too, please?” Sandy said.
“May I use some of that?”
“Sure,” I said, and squeezed some onto Rhoda’s palm.
“Thank you. Where do you go to school, Sandy?”
“Hunter College High.”
“She’s a genius,” I said.
“Oh, sure.”
“You are.” I paused. “She has an IQ of 157,” I said to Rhoda.
“Hey, I wonder whatever happened to that thing,” Sandy said, raising herself on one elbow, clutching the loose bikini top to her breasts.
“What thing?”
“The questionnaire.”
“Did you mail it in?”
“What questionnaire?” Rhoda said.
“Sure, I did. We should have heard by now, don’t you think?”
“Sure.”
“What are you talking about up there?” David shouted.
“The questionnaire!” Sandy shouted back.
“Cost us three dollars and thirty-five cents each,” I said to Rhoda.
“For what?” Rhoda asked.
“A dating service.”
“They’re going to supply me with a man,” Sandy said, and rolled her eyes.
“I still don’t understand,” Rhoda said.
“It’s one of those computer things,” I said.
“Oh. They’re silly,” Rhoda said.
“If you’re finished, Peter, please put the cap back on,” Sandy said, and then stretched out flat on the towel again, turning her head away from us.
“You want some more of this?” I asked Rhoda.
“Just a little,” she said, and held out her hand. I squeezed a blob of it onto her palm, and she spread it on her face, leaving a wide orange streak near her cheekbone. I reached out and smoothed it flat with my fingers.
“Thank you,” she said, and blushed.
“Where do you go to school?”
“What are you talking about now?” David yelled from the stern.
“Rhoda’s school.”
“Yeah, man, she’s cool,” David said, and grinned and snapped his fingers.
Sandy chuckled softly into the towel, her eyes closed.
“I go to Bailey,” Rhoda said.
“I know a girl from there. Adele Pierce, do you know her?”
“Is she a junior?”
“I think so.”
“She doesn’t sound familiar. Is she on the newspaper or anything?”
“Are you?”
“Yes, I write a weekly column.”
“What about?”
“Oh, mostly think pieces.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I just try to express my thoughts on various things, that’s all.”
“What’s it called?”
“‘Feelings,’” Rhoda said.
“Sounds sexy,” Sandy said.
“Oh, no.”
“No?”
“No, it isn’t, really,” Rhoda said.
“Well, I don’t think Adele Pierce is on the newspaper,” I said.
“Is she on the student council?”
“No, I don’t think so. Are you?”
“Yes, I’m my class representative.”
“You’re both putting me to sleep,” Sandy said, and yawned.
“What’s going on up there?” David shouted.
“They’re swapping biographies,” Sandy shouted.
“Did you tell her you’re on the swimming team?” David shouted.
I shrugged and said, “I’m on the swimming team.”
“Really?”
“Mmm.”
“You look like a swimmer.”
“How does a swimmer look?” I said, and grinned.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“We were undefeated last year,” I said.
“He was the only soph on the varsity team, too,” Sandy said.
“You must be very good.”
“Well, I’m okay, I guess.”
“He’s the best swimmer I know,” Sandy said.
“Will you be teaching me?” Rhoda asked.
“We’ll all teach you,” Sandy said, and sat up. Turning her back to Rhoda, she said, “Would you fasten me, please, Rhoda?” and then said, over her shoulder, “Why do you wear such creepy bathing suits?”
“Me?” Rhoda said, tying the bra top.