Chapter 101

Ma stretched out on one of the branches, one leg on either side, chin balanced on her hands. Scooter did the same on the branch next to her, so he could watch her face instead of looking down at the ground.

“Fear’s not a bad thing,” she said, finally. “It keeps us alive, allows us to exercise some caution. But too much fear can freeze you up, make it hard to keep movin’ forward. And life don’t care much for you if you’re standing still. Best way to live isn’t to never be afraid, but to be afraid…and do it anyway. That’s bravery, Winnie.”

“Are you afraid?”

Ma smiled at him. “Always am,” she said. “These days my fear’s a bit different. I’m afraid of bad things happening to you or your sister. I’m afraid of the restaurant failing. Of owing money. Of getting older. But life’s not gonna stop just because I’m afraid.”

“Are you afraid of being up in this tree?” Scooter attempted to clarify.

Ma looked at him, then looked down, then back at him. “You bet your buns I am,” she said. “But I’m up here anyway.”

* * * *

“After Ma died, it was a while before I was able to come back here,” Scooter said. Andy had been listening attentively, hands clasped behind his back to keep from interrupting. “After she passed, everything just…fell apart. Dad fell apart. He was never the same after she was gone. By the end of that first summer after she was gone, I was pretty much running the place on my own. Came up here a year after she died. I…don’t know. I feel closer to Ma here than anywhere else. Even Dockside. At Dockside, she belonged to everyone. Here…here she was just mine.”

Scooter tugged gently, leading them off the gravel-strewn path they’d been walking on, and across the grass toward an enormous tree. Andy looked up at it, and simultaneously saw why a child would feel a deep and urgent need to climb this tree, and also a nonsensical spurt of terror that Scooter had been all the way up therewith no one to catch him when he fell. He shivered, and held Scooter’s hand tighter. But it was a magnificent tree, no doubt about that. “I’m glad you came back,” Andy said. “That would’ve been a shame. It’s gorgeous.”

Scooter dropped to one knee and cupped his hands. “Wanna go up with me?”

Andy hesitated. He’d never climbed a tree before. He could only imagine the furor it would have caused when he was a child. But Scooter was looking at him with that hopeful smile, and Andy was pretty much defenseless against that. He set a foot in Scooter’s cupped hands and reached up for the closest branch. It had to be easier than the climbing wall at the park, right? “Not too high?” he hedged anyway. “I’ve…never done this before.”

“Okay,” Scooter said. “Not too far. There’s a good set of branches about four up from here.” Scooter stood, lifting, and Andy found himself halfway over the first branch without any effort on his part. Scooter took a few steps over and leaped, getting one hand on Andy’s branch and another on the one next to it and shoved himself through the fork with a grunt. “Used to be easier, before they took the picnic table away. I was shorter then, too, though, so maybe I’m just remembering it being easier.”

“Well, you weigh more now,” Andy pointed out reasonably. He was half-sitting, half-kneeling on his branch, and looking around for the next decent handhold. There, that one wasn’t too far away. He pulled himself up onto his knees and grabbed it before putting his feet under him. Easier than the climbing wall at the park, but not nearly as stable. Every time Scooter moved, it seemed to shake the whole tree. Or at least Andy’s whole branch. He managed to pull himself up—ug, how long had it been since he’d had to do pullups in gym class?

Scooter went up quick, his body flexing as he swung himself from branch to branch with the ease of practice. His shirt rucked up and he hissed as he scraped a bit of skin on the branch, but he got himself settled, back against the trunk, legs spread wide over on a particularly huge branch. He hooked his foot under it on one side and offered Andy a hand. “We can sit here, yeah?” The branch had a fork about three feet away from the trunk, thick enough to rest against. If Andy looked up and not down

He took Scooter’s hand, and that felt safer. Andy’s balance had been getting better by the time they’d put their surfboards away for the winter, but they’d gone out again in wetsuits as soon as the spring storms hit, and he’d felt as wobbly as a newborn kitten. Scooter would never let him fall, though. Scooter tugged, and Andy threw his leg over the branch, and they were settled. He looked up—the sky was only visible in tiny spots between the still-pale spring green of the leaves. “Nice.”

“I always liked it,” Scooter said. He rested his head against the trunk. “Sometimes I think I can still hear her. The firepit used to be over there.” He pointed to a spot maybe twenty feet from the base of the tree. Andy guessed. He didn’t really feel like looking down. “Remember one time, someone wanted me to powder monkey for the cannon crew. ‘Hey, Lori, where’s that boy o’ yours?’ ‘Up the tree,’ she said. ‘Think he’s got a crush.’” Scooter smiled, fond. “I did, too, but I didn’t know really know, you know? I didn’t think it was possible, I wouldn’t have believed anyone if they’d told me. That I could…that I could love a person as much as I love you, Andy.”

Same here, Andy thought. He’d thought he loved Nick once, but that had really just been lust, mixed with gratitude for the man who’d helped him escape his father. Nick hadn’t loved him back, either, not really. Not the way Scooter did, the way Scooter was looking at him now, like Andywas some kind of miracle. He couldn’t stand the space between them, suddenly, and let go of the branch to curl his hand around the side of Scooter’s neck, brushing Scooter’s jaw with his thumb. “Love you, too.”

Scooter turned his head and kissed Andy’s palm. “Good,” he said. “I um…” Scooter let go of the tree, rummaging through his pockets, then…”Close your eyes for, like, ten seconds, okay?”

Andy stared at him, but then took hold of the branch again and shut his eyes.