Thomas Tryon - The Night of the Moonbow

He felt the clutch of panic, as if he were about to be caught redhanded in some criminal act, and, keeping well out of sight, he tried to think. He knew he couldn’t escape without being seen, but if Reece did see him, what would he say? And Honey… And even as he agonized he knew he’d waited too long. He dashed to the door and retrieved his violin and music, then retreated again into the shadows, while the brass-trimmed prow of glossy mahogany carved its way lightly, quietly now, through the bed of lily pads -in which Honey showed no seeming interest – and into the icehouse inlet, where there was a bit of beach. Reece was handing Honey out of the boat. He passed her a grocery sack, and, bringing along a blanket and Honey’s portable phonograph, he joined her ashore. In a few minutes they had made their way to a spot where, tucked away amid a lush brake of ferns nestled under the drooping fronds of a weeping willow, they set down their things and spread out the blanket. Reece put a record on the phonograph and they made themselves comfortable.

What was Leo to do? If he showed himself to them now, he would stand accused of being a Peeping Tom – which was not far from the truth, as from his hiding place he continued to watch, knowing it was wrong, unable to stop himself. His gaze lingered on Honey as she took a brush from her bag and began brushing her hair. Reece turned on one hip, then leaned across her to pull a couple of bottles from the sack, a beer and a Coca-Cola.

“Toss us the church key,” he said.

Honey obliged with the bottle opener, then lay back, watching him uncap the soda pop and drink thirstily, and Leo saw how her polka-dot blouse drew snugly across the curve of her breasts, how they rose and fell with her breathing – a trifle fast, he thought, as if she was excited. One at a time Reece raised his outstretched legs, exercised their muscles, and set them down again while Honey lay back, and the soft sound of her voice floated across the distance between her and the icehouse.

She laughed at something Reece said; he laughed too. He was making an effort to be entertaining and amusing for her benefit: Heartless hard at work. It was easy to see why people found him as charming and winning as they did; he certainly was plenty charming with Honey. He didn’t touch her, but just talked in that bantering way of his. He lay back, one leg cocked over the other knee, hands clasped behind his head, looking up at the clouds.

Honey was laughing now, about a school friend summering on Cape Cod who’d been so badly sunburned she couldn’t go on the beach where all the cute guys hung out. While she talked on enthusiastically about Sally, Reece turned the record over. It was Guy Lombardo, and Reece pinched his nostrils and sang through his nose like Guy’s vocalist brother, Carmen:

I saw you last night and got that old feeling.

When you came in sight I got that old feeling

The music ended, and Reece took the record off; they talked some more, and suddenly Leo was shocked to hear his name mentioned. They were talking about him!

“I think he’s very clever,” he heard Honey saying, “getting the boys invited back to the Castle, when you couldn’t talk Dagmar into it. I think he has a lot of moxie.”

Leo couldn’t believe it! They were talking about him, and Honey – Honey was sticking up for him!

Not Reece, though. “A lot of nerve, you mean,” he said with a nasty chuckle.

“No, be serious, can’t you? He’s not like the other boys. He’s different.”

“Weird, you mean. One of these days he’s going to pull one dumb stunt too many and it’ll be goodbye Wacko Wackeem.”

“I don’t like to hear you talk like that. I feel sorry for him. He has no family, no one to look after him – living in that awful place-”

“How do you know it’s awful?”

“It’s an orphanage, isn’t it? All orphanages are awful. He has such sad eyes sometimes. But he’s so cheerful. He doesn’t feel sorry for himself. He’s really quite comical-” “I don’t think he’s so funny,” Reece growled.

“Oh, you – you’re such a stick-in-the-mud.” She drank from her Coke, then went on. “You have to admit, he plays the violin beautifully.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Didn’t you hear him at Major Bowes? Talk about chalk on the blackboard.”

“So he made a mistake. That can happen to anyone-” “Look, let’s change the subject, huh?” He leaned toward her, and what happened next, Leo didn’t care for at all.

Reece reached a long arm into the grass and plucked a flower – a buttercup. Then, tilting Honey’s head back and bringing his head closer, he rotated the blossom under her chin to see if she liked butter.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Sure do.” He came closer still.

“Oh, you,” she said, laughing. His lips were right next to her ear; in a quick move, he kissed her. Leo felt his blood begin to rush. This was the last thing he wanted to see, Reece necking with Honey Oliphant, but what could he do?

“Don’t,” said Honey, shivering and ducking her head between her shoulders, “that tickles.” She giggled, then, and lay back, and Reece took the cold beer bottle and laid it against her chest. She made tiny squeaking sounds of protest and pushed his hand away.

“Please don’t do that!”

“Why not? Don’t you like it?”

“No. It’s cold!”

“I can fix that,” Reece said, chuckling again. “Here’s something warmer,” and he set the bottle down and laid his cheek where the cold glass had touched her, between her breasts. Unable to look away, Leo swallowed and licked his lips, adjusted his position slightly, froze as Honey sat up again.

“What was that?” she said, peering toward the icehouse. “I think someone’s there.”

“It’s a wolf,” Reece said with a mock leer, “and he’s coming to eat you all up, gobble-gobble-gulp.”

“If you ask me, you’re the one who’s the wolf. What if somebody should come along and find us?”

“So what? We’re not doing anything illegal, are we? Besides” – looking at his watch with the phosphorescent face – “it’s swim time. Relax.”

“I’m sure I heard something. Go and see,” Honey urged. “Over there, in the icehouse-”

“Okay, let’s have a quick look.” Reece got up, vaulted the stream, and cut across the plot of grass in the direction of the icehouse. Frantically Leo looked around for someplace to hide. There was none that he could see. He crouched down, not really out of sight, praying that among the shadows he wouldn’t be discovered. He held his breath, listening to the sound of Reece’s footsteps, eyes shut tight, as if that alone might ward off discovery. For a moment or two everything was quiet; then he heard the sound of water. Opening his eyes and raising his head a little, he saw Reece standing just inside the doorway, peeing against the wall, now glancing back over his shoulder at a large fly buzzing around him. Leo ducked. When he took another look Reece was buttoning his shorts, glancing up at the rafters, where the swallows were flying about. Then, apparently satisfied, he left the building and trotted back to Honey.

Leo quickly resumed his lookout, but now he had difficulty seeing. Honey and Reece were no longer sitting up, they were lying side by side on the blanket. Reece was stripping off his shirt, tossing it aside as he slid an arm around Honey’s waist, drawing her to him. Though Leo had seen them together before, though he’d seen them dancing close together, their bodies touching as they bent and swayed to the music, that distressing sight had been nothing compared with this; this was horizontal stuff! His heart began to pound. He tried improving his angle of sight but it was no good: Honey was mostly hidden by Reece, who was stretched alongside her on the blanket. Unable to make out what was happening, Leo listened with greater urgency, cocking his head, cupping his ear, frowning in studied concentration as he tried to catch some intelligible fragment of speech. No dice; it was all mumbles.