Thomas Tryon - The Night of the Moonbow

More applause greeted the counselor as he surfaced, cleaved a neat, economic path through the water, and ran nimbly up the ladder for a second demonstration, this time an elegant swan dive, which was succeeded by a one-and-a-half-gainer, the dive he was best known for, then the more difficult double-gainer with a half-twist. When he came out of the water the last time, his tanned body glistening in the sun as if dripping with diamonds, it was on the dock, and the cheers of the crowd, which thought the display must be over, rose mightily. But Reece made no bow. Instead, he bounced on each foot to pop his ears, then marched over to Rex and spoke to him. The pair were subsequently joined by Hap, who attended with a grave expression. Was something wrong? As a murmur compounded of curiosity and excitement swept the crowd, the talk among the staffers went back and forth for a few moments more; then, while Hap went off in one direction and Reece dived once more into the water and headed toward the raft, Rex again resorted to his megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please! Will Tiger Abernathy please come forward!”

At this, the Bomber, who had been leaning against the lifeguard tower, dove into a knot of boys, from which he emerged in a moment, shoving Tiger into lull view.

“’Ray, Tiger! ’Ray, Tiger!” The eager shout was taken up all across the waterfront as Tiger trotted out onto the dock for a quick conference with Rex, which was followed by a second announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Brewster Abernathy – ’scuse me, folks, Mr Tiger Abernathy – has consented to perform for us today, in tandem with Mr Hartsig, a piggyback swan dive.”

Yet another rumble of excitement sounded among the spectators, and the enthusiastic cheers and applause of his pals sent Tiger pelting off the dock into the water for a quick sprint out to the raft. On the high platform Reece hoisted him onto his shoulders, then, supporting him by his hands, with perfect ease and coordination he stepped onto the board and moved to the end where he paused, adjusted his hands to clasp Tiger’s ankles, and, breaking his knees slightly, straightening them with a snap, he sent a forceful jolt into the board, whose limber spring propelled the pair into space. The two melded forms soared forward, each with arms outflung; they remained in tandem for another beat, then gracefully parted, the single figure dividing as their heads went down and they dropped headfirst into the water, four feet apart, with hardly a splash. The crowd went wild.

Returning to the tower, the two divers encored with a half-gainer, followed by a standing back dive; then, graciously abstaining, Reece dispatched Tiger up the ladder for a trio of beautifully executed solo dives before joining him in the swim to shore.

From the edge of his seat atop the council ring, Leo observed it all, awed by Tiger’s performance, admiring his agile, compact body and envying his natural athleticism, his grace of movement; envying, too, the adulation from the crowd, and the modest way Tiger accepted it. He caught the glow of pleasure in Mrs Abernathy’s eyes, the quiet pride in her husband’s, and he itched to jump up and show himself off to advantage as well, to make people look that way because of some feat he had performed. But how? What could he do? How could he ever hope to rival Tiger’s stellar performance?

He sat back as the two divers came dripping onto the swim dock and disappeared among the huddle of contestants. The applause died down, but the scheduled proceedings were further delayed when, instead of the Endeavorites, the white-clad figure of Pa Starbuck appeared suddenly upon the dock. Waving his hands about his head, he gestured for Rex’s megaphone.

“I wish to pause a moment more in this afternoon’s program,” he declared through the varnished mouthpiece, “to say before this gathering how privileged we of Camp Friend-Indeed have been to have known Reece Hartsig, a young man of rare qualities, who began here at Moonbow Lake at an age not much more advanced than our Peewee Oliphant is today” – appreciative laughter and applause greeted this sally – “and I know my own good wife and helpmeet, my Mary” – he pronounced it “May-ree” -“concurs in these sentiments, for she has been ‘Ma’ to Reece as she has been to all the others boys. I say to you that no camper, staffer, or counselor who has passed up the line-path has brought more honor to our blessed camp. This is his last summer of Moonbowing, and I say that when he departs our shores, a Glad Man made from a Happy Boy, he shall be sorely missed.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll he back,” Big Rolfe called out through cupped hands. “You haven’t seen the last of our boy, Gar. He’ll plunk that plane of his down on the playing field, he’ll give the fellows a spin.”

“Hear! Hear!” Louder cheers and more enthusiastic shouts among the adults greeted these sentiments, while the boys went crazy.

“’Ray, Big Chief!” they shouted, after which Pa gave Reece a warm handshake and returned to his chair. Left alone, Reece spoke a few words of thanks, then, modest lo a fault, retired into the crowd of congratulating admirers as the senior events got under way.

Watching his counselor, who stood beside Tiger now, taking in the senior freestyle race, Leo brooded on the image of the pair flying off the tower, hearing again the tumultuous applause and cheering, his heart pounding with excitement at the memory. No matter how many races Jeremiah won, or how many happy points they earned today, in Leo’s mind nothing would match the sight of those glorious dives. And over and over again the burning thought: What could he do to shine? Then, suddenly, he knew! He jumped up and pushed his way along the row to race up the aisle, leaving a perplexed Miss Meekum staring at his sudden departure.

He was still absent when the contests among the High Endeavorites came to an end, with Malachi the leader in unit points. Since Jeremiah had come out ahead in Harmony’s swim events, as well as taken first prize in the Parade of ships, the two cabins were running neck and neck in overall camp point score as the popular and dramatic canoe-tilting contest began, and the excitement was intense when, after several elimination rounds, the two finalists paddled to “center stage” – Tiger and the Bomber up for Jeremiah, Blackjack Ratner and Moon Mullens for Malachi: the winning team stood to put its cabin in the lead for the Hartsig Trophy. Given that Tiger was an expert canoer, while the Bomber was noted for his balance and deadly aim, the contest was expected to be an easy win for Jeremiah. Still, the audience was tense as they watched the Jeremian, spraddle-legged and precariously balanced in the bow of the canoe, the tip of his long bamboo lance inserted into the neck of a rubber toilet plunger, face his challengers, Ratner in the bow, Mullens paddling. Like two knights in a medieval tourney, the rivals began jousting with each other, each warrior trying to knock the other into the water.

Wearing the Joe Louis frown of concentration that had earned him his nickname, the Bomber skillfully parried and thrust, and the outcome seemed assured when an unexpected distraction from onshore caught his attention, enabling Blackjack to catch him off balance and smack him alongside the head, toppling him into the lake; over went the canoe as well, tossing Tiger into the water too, while the Bomber, surfacing, hollered, “We wuz robbed!”

But no one was attending; something of livelier interest was taking place at the top of the council ring, where a fantastic figure had appeared, with a grotesquely made-up clown’s face and, slung about his shoulders, a red cape, which, as he tore down the path to the lakefront, rippled out behind him like Superman’s. Then, as the spectators laughed and began to applaud his antics, he pranced to the end of the dock, where, shedding the cape, he executed a burlesque dive into the water and stroked energetically toward the raft.