Deep Betrayal

of abandonment trickled through my chest, and I braced myself against their answer.
    Dad paced back and forth at the end of my bed. “I can’t stand it any longer, not knowing. I’ve got to stretch my … I’ve got to go. For just a little while.”
    “Tell me how long you’re going to be gone,” I demanded.
    “It’s just for a little while,” Calder said.
    “But I haven’t seen you in over a month!” I hated how hysterical I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. This was unfair, and Calder didn’t seem to care at all.
    “Lil,” he said, bowing his head.
    Dad stepped closer again. “I told your mom the college was sending my whole department to a conference and that I’d be home on Sunday.”
    “But that’s three days !”
    “Shhhh,” Dad said, tamping down my volume with his hands. “It’ll probably take me at least that long to learn what I need to know.”
    Dad looked at Calder and tipped his head toward the door. Calder took the hint and said, “Good night, Lily.” He hung in my doorway for a second before slipping away like a shadow.
    I watched the hall for a few more moments, in the hope that he’d come back. When he didn’t, I set my jaw and flopped back on my pillow. I turned away from Dad to hide my face. He put his hand on my shoulder and rolled me back toward him. My cheeks were already wet.
    “So it’s that way? You’ll miss him that much?”
    “Every minute.”
    “Remember you’ll be leaving for college soon, Lily. It’s not a good time for you to get so involved.” He brushed my long bangs off my forehead.
    “You know what? I wish I’d never told you about any of this. This was my secret. I shared it with you, but now you’re taking it from me.”
    “Lily, I’m not taking anything from you. Frankly, I don’t want any of it.”
    I wiped my face on my pillow. Dad headed for the door, then he stopped and turned at the threshold. “You’re too young to feel so strongly about someone.”
    I almost smiled. “Maybe you’re too old to remember.”
    He smiled, and for a second, he was just my dad again. Normal Dad. The dad I wanted to remember. “Touché, sweet girl. I’ll be as quick a study as I can. I’ll have him back soon.”
    “Promise?” I asked, wondering if he was enough of a merman that I could bind him to his word. But he wouldn’t take the bait, and my door closed softly behind him, without an answer.
    I flipped on my light and pulled MY SCRIBBLINGS out from under my mattress. I bit down hard on my pencil to keep from crying. Within seconds, the loneliness I felt poured out of my heart and onto the page.
    I almost missed the sound of one clean dive, followed by the sound of a second body convulsing in the water.

MY SCRIBBLINGS
The Fool Hearty
You left me where you found me ,
A buzzing
early summer morning with the newborn honeybee
and the hatching bird .
The wind slaps slapped my face for my impertinence
in thinking you were mine to keep .
And mushrooms
like bald-capped actors memorizing their lines
gathered ’round the spot where last you you last stood
and promised me your love, still
wet with dew .
Not yet burned by the rising sun .
—Lily Hancock (Bayfield, Wisconsin)

9
SERIOUS
    I fell asleep with MY SCRIBBLINGS still in my hands. Sometime after two a.m., the rain stopped and the silence woke me. Moon shadows flickered across my walls. June bugs bounced against the window screen. Restless and lonely, I tiptoed down the stairs and out the door, closing it gently, resisting the pull of the springs that wanted to snap it shut. The porch steps creaked, but I didn’t think the noise was enough to wake Mom.
    I walked halfway across the yard and peered out toward the islands, wondering where Dad and Calder were now. “Calder,” I said, under my breath.
    “What are you doing, Lily? I told you to stay away from the water.” I turned and saw a dark shape sit up in the hammock under the trees.
    “Calder? You’re back? Already? What are you doing in the hammock?”
    He answered my questions in succession. “Yes. Clearly. For now. And trying to sleep. You’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me you were out here?”
    “Jason told me not to.”
    “And you listened?”
    “Of course I did. I want to stay close to you, and he wasn’t about to let me sleep in the house. How could he explain that to your mom? I’m supposed to be on Madeline, living on my parents’ sailboat. Remember?”
    “Yeah, but he’s making