Edenville Owls

Chapter 9

“I thought you’d be here,” Joanie said.

“What made you think so?” I asked.

Joanie stepped up onto the bandstand and sat on the bench beside me.

“Because the weather is terrible and everybody else is inside,” she said.

“I like bad weather,” I said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s kind of exciting, I guess.”

“Do you come here to think?” Joanie said.

“Sometimes.”

“What are you thinking about now?” she asked.

“You,” I said.

“I mean before I came,” Joanie said. “Were you thinking about a problem?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Can’t tell you now,” I said.

“Oh.”

We were quiet.

“It’s not you,” I said to Joanie. “I gave my word I wouldn’t tell.”

“You’re making me die to know what it is,” she said.

“I can’t,” I said. “I gave my word.”

She nodded.

“Stuff like that matters to you,” she said. “Keeping your word and stuff.”

“Yes.”

There was no wind this time. Just a hard rain coming straight down on the calm water of the harbor.

“It’s hard being a kid,” Joanie said. “Grown-ups tell you how easy it is. But it’s not.”

“Kids problems don’t seem serious to grown-ups,” I said.

“But they are serious to kids,” Joanie said. “Getting grades. Being popular. Having friends.”

“Making a team,” I said. “Being brave.”

“Being brave?” Joanie asked.

“Yeah. Boys are supposed to be brave.”

“You think about that?”

“Sure,” I said. “I want to be brave and, uh, you know...” I rolled my hands, trying to find the right word. “Like a knight... honorable.”

“Honorable?” Joanie said.

I nodded. The rain sound was steady on the roof of the bandstand. It made a sort of hushed sound around us as it fell. And the wet smell mixed with the salt smell and everything seemed very exciting.

“You know,” I said, “like Philip Marlowe.”

“Who?”

“Guy in a book,” I said.

Joanie nodded.

“You read a lot of books, Bobby.”

“I like to read,” I said.

“What about your problem that you promised not to tell?”

“I promised not to,” I said.

“Is one of your friends mad at you?”

“No.”

“I hate when one of my friends gets mad at me,” Joanie said.

“I know,” I said. “I always say it doesn’t matter. But it does.”

“It makes me feel scared,” Joanie said.

I nodded.

“Are you ever scared, Bobby?” she said.

I wanted to say no in the worst way, but I opened my mouth and heard myself say, “Yes.”

“What of?”

“People being mad at me, I guess. Not being, you know, nobody liking me.”

I couldn’t believe it. I never even talked to myself about stuff like this.

“Let’s make a promise,” Joanie said.

“What?”

“Let’s promise we’ll never be mad at each other.”

“No matter what?” I said.

“No matter what,” Joanie said. “We will always be each other’s friend.”

“I never had a friend, except you, who was a girl,” I said.

“And I never had a friend, except you, who was a boy,” Joanie said. “Promise?”

Sitting in the bandstand with the weather all around us, I looked at her for a long time.

Then I said, “Promise.”