When I finally went inside, my father was snoring. I tiptoed over to the open bedroom door and looked in. My mother was asleep, too. I went into the living room.
I opened a fifth of Cutty Sark and took it with me into my bedroom. I drank right from the bottle. I must have finished half the bottle, and then I guess I passed out.
I slept until eleven.
It was a bright hot muggy day. The sheets were sticking to me when I woke up, and I was covered with sweat. I felt mean and hot and surly. I looked at the clock on the dresser, and then I called David while I was still in bed and asked him what the plan was for the day.
“You know what the plan is,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You know,” he said.
“I don’t think I can get the boat,” I said. “This is Sunday. My father’ll probably want to use it again.”
“Oh,” David said. “Yeah.”
“So it’ll have to wait till tomorrow,” I said.
“Yeah,” David said, and sighed. “Well, I’ll give Sandy a ring, we’ll probably go out to the point.”
“Okay,” I said, and hesitated. “You think I should call Rhoda?”
“Why not?”
“Well, she seemed pretty upset last night.”
“She’s probably fine by now,” David said. “You going to stop by here for me?”
“Yeah, sure, give me a half hour, okay?”
“Right, I’ll call Sandy.”
“And you think I should call Rhoda, huh?”
“Sure,” David said, and hung up.
I put the phone back on the cradle and looked up at the ceiling. There were four squashed mosquitoes near the light fixture in the center of the room. I had killed them at the very beginning of the summer, before my father and I had put up the screens. I thought of the night before, and then sighed and got out of bed. I didn’t feel like calling Rhoda just yet. I felt that if I called her right then, I would probably begin yelling at her over the phone, that was the way I felt. I had a terrible headache and I was a little sick to my stomach. I had never drunk hard liquor before, and I decided now that I didn’t like it at all, not if it made you feel this way afterward. I sneaked the half-empty fifth back into the living room, and then I went into the kitchen and told my mother I’d like some orange juice and cold cereal, but nothing else. She naturally raised a fuss, so I also had scrambled eggs and corn muffins and then vomited everything up in the bathroom.
I was getting dressed for the beach when the telephone rang. It was Sandy, and she sounded very cheerful.
“Hello, gorgeous,” she said, “how do you feel this morning?”
“Just great,” I said, and pulled a face.
“I wonder how Annabelle made out,” she said.
“I don’t know.”
“He shouldn’t have got so drunk.”
“Well...”
“I called Rhoda,” she said, changing the subject. “We want to go out to the point, is that okay with you?”
“Sure.” I hesitated and then said, “You called Rhoda?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, last night...”
“Oh, she was hysterical last night,” Sandy said. “You can’t blame her, can you? I was pretty scared myself.”
“So was I.”
“That was cool,” Sandy said. “What Annabelle did.”
“Mmm.”
“But he should have known better than to drink so much.”
“I guess so,” I said.
“Okay, we’ll meet you out at the point in ten minutes or so, okay?”
“Yes,” I said, “fine.”
“It’s very hot,” Sandy said, and hung up.
“Where are you going?” my mother asked.
“Out to the point.”
“The water’s supposed to be rough today,” she said. “Be careful.”
“We’re always careful,” I said.
“Ha-ha,” my mother said.
My father came out of the bedroom in his bathrobe. “Good morning, son,” he said.
“Will you be using the boat today?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Ellie?” he said, turning to my mother.
“We promised the Cordons,” my mother said, “but what do you think? The water’s supposed to be rough today.”
“There aren’t any warnings up, are there?”
“No, but the water’s supposed to be rough.”
“Well, let’s give it a try. We promised the Conlons.”
“All right,” my mother said.
“Sorry, son,” my father said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “So that’s where we’ll be, out at the point.”
“Be careful,” my mother said again, and I left the house.
The beach was suffocatingly hot and thronged with people. This was Sunday and the normal weekday crowd should have been doubled or at most trebled, but the incredible heat had driven the entire world to the shore, and people sprawled now on every available inch of sand, hoping for a vagrant breeze. There was no wind at all, but the ocean was rough nonetheless, with huge waves rolling in and breaking furiously against the shore. The sky was a yellowish white, not a trace of blue anywhere, not a single cloud breaking the glaring oval that stretched like wet skin over ocean and beach. It was difficult to breathe. The sun seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, the air shimmered with diffused light. I remembered that I’d left my sunglasses back at the house, but the sand was too hot to make a return trip even thinkable. By the time I reached David’s house, I was exhausted. He was waiting for me on the sundeck.
“Hot, huh, Poo?” he said.
I nodded.
“How’d you like that Annabelle?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“He shouldn’t have got so drunk. You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I said, “let’s go.”
We started walking up the beach. It was hard hot work. We were silent for a long time.
“It doesn’t seem real,” I said at last.
“What doesn’t?”
“Last night. Annabelle.”
“It wasn’t real,” David said, and laughed. “The computer dreamed it up.”
“I just hope he didn’t get in any trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“With the police or anything?”
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t,” David said.
“How do you know?”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Yeah, that’s just it,” I said.
“He shouldn’t have drunk so much,” David said. “There they are.”
They had spread a blanket near the water’s edge; they both looked up as we approached, but only Sandy waved.
“Damn it, I forgot the umbrella,” David said.
“Oh, great.”
“Why didn’t you remind me?”
“Where’s the umbrella?” Sandy said immediately.
“He forgot it,” I said.
“We’ll roast. It’s like the Sahara out here.”
“Let’s get in the water.”
“I’m for that.”
“Not me,” Rhoda said.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she said, but she did not smile.
“It’s not as rough as it looks,” Sandy said. “Once you get past the breakers...”
“No, not me,” Rhoda said.
“Okay,” Sandy said, and without another word got up and went into the water. David followed her. I sat on the blanket beside Rhoda. Her face was all squinched up against the glare, and her eyes were red and puffy from the crying she’d done the night before. There were blankets and umbrellas everywhere around us, transistor radios going, girls spreading suntan oil on their bellies and legs, kids throwing balls, kids filling pails and dumping them to make sand cakes, guys doing headstands, couples necking.
“I’ve never seen it this crowded,” I said.
“It’s the day,” Rhoda said. “It’s so hot.”