Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

Chapter Twenty-One

Much of the beach was rocky, and what sand there was was coarse and gravelly. But it was secluded. Principally that was because it was situated on a kind of peninsula, and when the tide was in—which would be shortly—it was surrounded by water on three sides. Broken branches from the stand of pines provided plenty of wood for a fire; and driftwood was plentiful, too, since the point jutted out into the current.

Bill Jacobs, who had been a camp counselor for the last two years, took command automatically. “Someone, put the beer and Cokes in the water to chill. You guys get some of these bigger rocks for a fireplace, and the chicks can gather the wood.”

“Hey,” said Adam Sussman, “remember when we had a cookout here some years ago—the Sea Scouts? Were you in that, Stu?”

“Yeah, I remember. There was some kind of stink about the fire. The beach isn’t public; it belongs to the Hillson estate. We didn’t have a permit, that was it. Say, Didi, did you get a permit for a fire for tonight?”

“We don’t need one,” said Didi, suddenly apprehensive. “I’m sure we don’t. That’s only during the summer.”

“Well, all they can do is kick us off, I suppose.” said Stu philosophically. And then he laughed, and Didi saw she was being ribbed and chucked a handful of sand at him. “You really had me going there—permit for a fire!”

“Well, let’s at least wait until it gets dark,” said Sue Arons. “That’s when a fire is fun.”

Everyone scattered to carry out his assigned task. Bill arranged the large rocks in a circle for the fireplace, and after the boys had finished, they helped the girls gather wood. After a while there was a big enough pile for Bill to call a halt. “Okay, you guys, I think we’ve got enough.”

“I could use a beer right now,” said Adam.

“Yeah, me too,” said Stu. He looked at his watch. “Damn, I’ve got to cut out around six thirty to drive my folks over to Lynn.”

“But we’ll be doing our cooking around then.” protested Didi. “You’ll miss all the food.”

“It was the only way I could get the car.” he said. “But I’ll be back in no time. Say, who’s got the beer?”

“When are you going to light the fire. Bill?”

“I don’t know. After it gets dark and we start getting hungry. Anyone in a hurry?”

“No, let’s wait a little while.”

The sea was calm, almost unnaturally so. They could hear the gentle swish of the waves as they struck against the sea wall. From the distance came the screeching of sea gulls. Otherwise the air was still, and there was something about the quiet that tended to restrict conversation. They had paired off now, and what talk there was tended to be between couples, and they kept their voices low. They sipped their drinks reflectively and waited for it to grow dark.

Adam Sussman rested his head on his girl’s lap; encouraged by his example, the others began to maneuver into more intimate positions. Suddenly Sussman sat up and exclaimed in disgust. “Jee-sus.”

“What’s the matter?”

“We got company.” He pointed at a lone figure coming toward them.

“Hey, it’s Moose Carter,” said Stu.

“God’s gift to women,” said Didi.

“Hiya, Moose.” Bill Jacobs waved lazily at him.

“Hi, kids. H’lo Bill, Stuie. And Didi and little Sue. Betty baby, where you been?” Then he saw Jenkins. “Why shut my mouf if we haven’t got us a genuwine integrated cookout.”

“Take a can of beer and cool it,” said Bill Jacobs shortly. “Sho, sho, as we say down in Alabam. Don’t mind if I do.”

He ripped open the top of a beer can and said, “Any of you ever seen this before?” He threw his head back and let the beer gurgle down his throat without a ripple of his Adam’s apple.

“Alan Jenkins. Moose Carter.”

Neither man offered his hand, but both said “Hi.”

“Have another.” suggested Jacobs.

“I guess I can use one. Maybe I’ll sit down for this one.” As he saw Stu move over to make room for him near Jenkins, he said. “I’ll just sit over here with my old sweetheart Betty—in the front of the bus, if you don’t mind. Stu.”

Didi felt Stu’s hand clench under hers. She peered at her watch. “It’s half past six. If you have to go for your folks, you’d better leave now.”

“Maybe I better stick around for a while.” he muttered. “No. go now,” she whispered back. “It’ll be all right.”

It was only after Stu had been gone for some minutes that they felt the first drops of rain.