The Big Dig Read online

  “Idiot!” But who was she was calling an idiot, him or her? And how long was he going to be there? How was she ever going to get back home?

  Okay, Lucy, calm down. It’s not like you’re stranded on a desert island and you’re going to die lost and alone. You’re a five-minute walk from the house.

  Pulling off her hat, she wiped her sweaty forehead with her arm and took a deep breath. You might as well do what you came here to do.

  She didn’t find much on the beach that morning: six pieces, and only one was blue. She was too busy pacing and worrying about what was going on up in the field just above her. As though she had a nervous tic, her eyes constantly darted to the stairs, terrified at the thought of him at some point following her.

  The tide was close to low and there was no breeze off the water, no shade—the heat was starting to get uncomfortable. So maybe I won’t die lost and alone, but there’s a good chance thirst or heatstroke will do me in. She checked her watch, gnawed on the corner of her lip. Almost noon. Maybe he’s gone by now.

  Slowly, she crept up the stairs until she was able to inch her head over the top step. She couldn’t see or hear anyone. Scrambling up the last couple of steps, Lucy ran like she was being chased by the boogieman until she was safely back on Josie’s front porch. The Digger may have been somewhere in the field for all she knew, but she hadn’t bothered to slow down long enough to check.

  She threw herself onto the closest chair and waited for her heart to stop smacking against her ribcage.

  Josie came out and handed her a glass of lemonade. “How was the beach?”

  “Okay.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “No.”

  “Did you meet Colin?”

  Lucy squinted. “Who?”

  “Colin. I’m sure I saw him down the lane.”

  The Digger had a name. “Uh, I didn’t notice anyone,” Lucy lied into her lemonade.

  “Hmm?”

  “Sorry.” She looked back up so Josie could read her lips. “No. I didn’t see him.”

  “He just moved here,” Josie said. “He’s older, but not by much. You need a chum.”

  What is with her obsession with me having a “chum”? And has she seen the sweat on him?!

  “I don’t think I need a chum,” Lucy said, pressing the ice-cold glass against her temple.

  “Don’t talk so crazy!” Josie jammed her hands into her hips. “You think I’m going to let you hide out in the house all summer?”

  Lucy slumped down deeper in her chair and didn’t reply.

  “And I haven’t forgotten about taking you to visit Ellen,” Josie added. “It’s time you got to know your family.”

  Lucy glared into her lemonade. Who was this person giving her all these orders? What happened to the Josie of the last few days, the one who let her do anything she wanted, no questions asked? It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Man, I can’t wait for Dad to call.

  That very night Lucy’s dad did call. The original plan to give him the silent treatment took a back seat to her annoyance with Josie and all her threats.

  “But Dad,” Lucy whined. “I don’t want to meet Ellen! What would Mom think?”

  She heard her dad sigh on the other end. “Mom would think it was good, Lucy. It was what she was planning last summer—well, you know…before she got sick.”

  Lucy sniffed a couple times. “What do you mean, ‘what she was planning’?”

  “She was going to take you to Cape John for a vacation. Take you to meet Ellen, let you get to know your aunt and uncle and cousin.”

  “Why?” She wasn’t sure she believed him. “They hadn’t spoken in years.”

  “She wanted to fix that.”

  Lucy twisted the curly phone cord around her finger. “Dad, do you know what happened between them? Can you just tell me?”

  He didn’t respond right away. “Your mom never liked to talk about it.”

  That doesn’t mean you don’t know. “Well, can Josie tell me?”

  “She may not know.”

  Lucy huffed in disbelief. “How could she not know?”

  “Like I said, your mom didn’t like to talk about it.”

  She kept wrapping and twisting the cord and didn’t say anything.

  “I know you think Ellen is the enemy, Luce, but she’s not,” her dad continued. “Give her a break. Get to know her. Trust me, your mom would want this.”

  Drawing in a giant breath, she slowly leaked it out. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Do you think she’ll tell me about the fight or whatever happened?”

  “Maybe.”

  What could it be? And why did Mom want to make nice after all this time? A thought dawned on Lucy. What if it’s because it was really all Mom’s fault? What if Ellen tells me something terrible about her? That was something she was only just now considering.

  Lucy had the sudden urge to change the subject. “Yeah, well, Josie wants me to meet other people too,” she blurted. “To like, make friends.”

  “No!” Her dad fake gasped, seemingly eager for a subject change as well. “She sounds like a complete monster! Should I call the police?”

  “Dad. It’s not funny,” she said stiffly.

  “I know, pumpkin,” he said, but she could tell he still thought it was.

  They continued to argue back and forth for a few more minutes and ended with her agreeing to keep an open mind about Ellen. But she had her fingers crossed when she made the agreement. Maybe Mom had wanted this meeting to happen, but I’m still not a hundred percent convinced.

  Josie was old. Maybe she’d just forget about the whole Ellen thing anyway.

  To be on the safe side, Lucy spent the next couple days trying to stay under the radar. She lived in constant fear Josie was on the verge of making some kind of proclamation concerning a get-together or family reunion dinner. She mostly hid out at the beach, planning each trip with military precision, never again wanting to run into The Digger.

  So far, so good.

  When Lucy went down to make her breakfast, Josie was standing at the kitchen counter. Lucy stopped in the doorway and stomped her foot. She was getting better at remembering. The other day she’d forgotten. “You can’t sneak up on me like that!” Josie had said, knocking over her mug, both hands fluttering in the air.

  “I didn’t,” Lucy had insisted, kneeling down to sponge up the spilled coffee. “I just forgot to let you know I was here.”

  As Lucy put her waffles in the toaster, she glanced sideways at Josie. What was she doing? Lucy edged her way along the counter to get a better look. There was an open bag of marshmallows and a bowl filled with some brown flaky stuff…wheat? She watched as Josie sliced a marshmallow into thin discs, then dipped them in the bowl. The brown stuff stuck to both the sticky cut sides. She popped a slice in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, looking out the window. Then she popped in another.

  Lucy tapped her on the shoulder. “What are you eating?”

  “This? It’s bran.”

  Lucy raised her eyebrows and pointed to the marshmallows.

  “The doctor says I need more fibre in my diet. The bran’s supposed to be good for my bowels, but it tastes like cardboard.”

  Bowels. Lucy shuddered.

  “I tried sprinkling the stuff on my food like he told me,” she went on. “But it just made me gag. Came up with this on my own. Seems to work fine.”

  “Oh. That’s smart thinking.” Lucy was pretty sure this wasn’t what the doctor had in mind at all.

  Josie returned to chewing and staring out the window. Then, “I have an idea,” she announced.

  Uh-oh. Lucy’s body instantly went rigid. What had she been thinking? She’d let her guard down, struck up a conversation. She braced herself.

  “It’s
hotter than the hinges of hell out there. Colin’s probably in that field again. You should take him a cold drink. Introduce yourself.” Josie’s tone was firm.

  Lucy’s jaw dropped to the floor. She thought it would have something to do with Ellen, or even Ellen’s kid, but this was way worse. A mental image of The Digger leaning on his shovel materialized in her head. His sweaty T-shirt, him pointing to his eye, her face burning with embarrassment. “No.” She shook her head. “No way. Nuh-uh.”

  Josie squinted at her. “You’ve got two choices. I can drag you over there kicking and screaming, or you can act like a lovely young lady and go on your own,” she said, dredging another marshmallow.

  Josie may as well have tilted Lucy’s head back and poured that entire box of bran in her mouth—same results. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swallow. And there was a pain in her chest. Am I old enough to have a heart attack?

  “It won’t be that bad,” Josie said. “Finish your breakfast and go get dressed.”

  After forcing down only half her waffles, Lucy slowly dragged herself up the stairs, jaw still open and shaking her head the whole way. This can’t be happening. How was she supposed to even do this? She made a silent wish for one of those transporter things from Star Trek, or some kind of time-travel machine. Unfortunately, there was no high-pitched hum, nor did her body dissolve into a million tiny particles. Crap.

  That’s it. When Dad calls again, the silent treatment is back on for real.

  She slammed her bedroom door and began violently pulling things from the dresser. Stupid T-shirt, stupid shorts, stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “You can’t make me do this,” she muttered. Why am I whispering? “You can’t make me do this, you know!” she hollered. “You’re not the boss of me!” Wow. That felt good.

  “Get the lead out!” Josie yelled from below.

  Lucy slapped a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t hear me, could she?!

  There were two icy cold glasses of red Kool-Aid on the table when Lucy got back to the kitchen.

  “Thought you should take one for yourself. More social that way; you two could have a chit-chat,” Josie said.

  A chit-chat? Was she serious? “I’m not going,” Lucy said, folding her arms.

  Josie sighed. “You’re a bit of a sourpuss, aren’t you?”

  Hey!

  “When you were little, you had your mother’s sweet and sunny disposition,” she continued, pulling a cigarette from beneath her bra strap and lighting it—she kept an entire day’s supply tucked all over her body. Smoke filled the air, creating a hazy wall between them.

  Lucy waited. For what, she wasn’t sure.

  Josie looked at her through the curls of smoke, puffing away. “Oh, well. Kind of a shame, though,” she finally said.

  Against her better judgement Lucy asked, “What’s a shame?”

  “Colin’s mom. She was your mom’s best friend.”

  “What?”

  Josie nodded. “Right from kindergarten. She and your mom, joined at the hip. Of course, Irene, your gran, wasn’t too happy about it. Esther was a bit of a wild thing.” Josie smiled at the memory.

  Lucy digested this information. Except for stories about Josie, it was like her dad had said—her mom had never talked much about her past, including her childhood. She’d certainly never mentioned anyone named Esther, let alone wild Esther. Lucy would have definitely remembered that.

  Josie plucked a piece of tobacco off the tip of her tongue and flicked it across the room. “So there. You and Colin would have something in common.”

  “Wait. You said Colin just moved here.”

  “He did. Esther left home right after high school. Now she’s back.”

  “Oh.”

  “But.” Josie sighed again, more heavily this time, and picked up the glasses. “If you’re dead set against it, I’ll put all this back. I just can’t help think how your mom would have gotten such a kick—”

  “Fine,” Lucy said tightly. She wasn’t born yesterday. She knew what Josie was doing. She reached out to stop her. “Give me the drink. One.” She held up one finger.

  Josie grinned a satisfied grin and handed her a glass.

  Lucy marched out of the house and down the steps. She couldn’t help feel that maybe she’d just been emotionally blackmailed. That aside, she had to admit she was more than a little intrigued. Not so much about Colin, but about his mom. Maybe she didn’t have to make nice with Ellen after all. Colin’s mom, this Esther person, probably knew everything there was to know about her mom, and Ellen.

  Jackpot!

  Chapter 7

  Lucy’s pace slowed as the shovelling got louder. Why did I ever agree to this? What was I thinking? Beads of sweat prickled along her hairline. She switched the glass of Kool-Aid to the other hand so she could hold the cold one to her forehead. I know what I was thinking. I was thinking about The Digger’s mom.

  The hamster in Lucy’s head had been going around and around on its little wheel ever since she’d found out The Digger’s mom had been her mom’s best friend. Maybe she could get him to take her to meet his mom. But then she shook her head. No. How would that happen? That would mean she would have to have some kind of conversation. Ick. No way she was going to do anything more than she had to. All Josie said was to take him a drink. So that’s just what she was going to do, take him this drink. Because then Josie would have to do something for her, right? She’d owe her. Lucy would get Josie to take her to meet The Digger’s mom. Might almost be worth it.

  Feeling a little more confident now that she knew how it was all going to play out, she took a deep breath and rounded the corner of the lane. There he was, in the middle of the field, digging away…. Who was she kidding? Dump the glass and run! Dump the glass and run!

  He stopped shovelling when he saw her and waved—a wide, sweeping wave over his head.

  She jerked to a stop. Did he just wave? Like all friendly? Who does he think he is? She clenched her teeth and continued towards the hole. I’m getting this over with as fast as possible.

  She stood next to a pile of dirt, the condensation from the glass dripping down her arm. They studied each other, sizing each other up. She noticed he had the same grey T-shirt on as always. It looked about ten sizes too big. So did his jean shorts. He looked like a hobo clown. She wondered who would speak first. Well, it’s not gonna be me. I don’t plan on speaking at all.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she said back. She couldn’t help it—automatic reflex.

  His eyes went to the glass in her hand. “It would be really cool if that was for me.”

  She frowned. She expected him to have some kind of hick accent, but he didn’t.

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise when she extended her arm and offered him the glass. “Thanks. I was sort of joking.” He chugged it all at once, and handed it back to her. “I needed that,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Ick.

  A few seconds passed.

  Okay, Lucy. Deed done. Free to go. But her feet stayed firmly on the spot. “Nice hole,” she said, then immediately winced. Nice hole? What?

  She could tell he was trying not to laugh.

  Attempting to hide her face, she focused on the empty glass in her hand. “Josie, my aunt, uh, great-aunt, made me bring this so, yeah, it was her idea. Just so you know….”

  “That it wasn’t your idea?”

  She stuck out her chin. “Yeah. Because it wasn’t.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged.

  “So…um…what are you digging?”

  He shook his head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

  “Try me.”

  “I’m not digging anything in particular.”

  “Oh. Then why are you doing it?”

  “It’s more of a protest type thing.”

>   “Protest for what?”

  “Against my mom. I’m really, really….” He paused and screwed up his mouth. “Mad at her.”

  “I see,” Lucy said, nodding. Maybe he was right about her not getting it.

  He stabbed his shovel into a pile of dirt dangerously close to where she was standing. “She drags us here. Moves us without even discussing it first. Just up and moves us! I didn’t even get a vote. No one did. I had to leave everything—my friends, my school, my baseball team, my boat!” He yanked out the shovel and jammed it in the pile again.

  Lucy kept nodding; she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to comment.

  “And then! She left my suitcase in some hotel in New Brunswick,” he went on. “She says it’s my fault for not keeping track of it. But she’s the mom. She’s supposed to check that I have all my stuff, right?”

  Lucy played it safe. “Sure.”

  “Now I have to wait for the moving truck to get here with the rest of my clothes.” He hiked up his baggy shorts. “Lucky for me, I found these in the barn with this shirt. Came with the house.”

  “And your mom won’t buy you any clothes to tide you over?”

  “She offered, but I said no. I don’t want anything from her.” He gave his waistband another tug. “These will do just fine.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “You still didn’t explain the hole.”

  “It’s to symbolize my need to escape,” he said importantly, like he was addressing a crowd. “I’m tunnelling my way to freedom.”

  Freak show. “Wow. That’s…deep.”

  “Ha! Good one. Clever. Deep. Like the hole.”

  “Yup. That’s me. Clever.” Lucy forced a smile—the pun had been pure coincidence. “Does your mom get it? Is it working?”

  “No.” He moved towards the edge of the hole and started digging. “She thinks it’s great that I’m spending so much time outdoors getting exercise.”

  This time it was Lucy who tried not to laugh.

  “Now I think I’m just doing it more to wreck the field,” he continued. “I know she’s planning on making it into a garden. I’ll trash the whole friggin’ thing if I have to.”