THE BROPED

It was the last day of summer break and the sun was directly overhead us, so we sat on lounge chairs in the shade of a group of maple trees that overlooked our public pool.

Everyone else had left. It was just me, Nick, and Anna, with the lifeguard above us in her chair, lazily swirling her whistle in her hand, back and forth, forth and back.

I jumped in the deep end, paddling around, feeling the heat on my skin. Anna dove in from the side, then immediately got out, pulling herself up on the lip, eliding the ladder. The light bounced off her tan skin, her bright palm tree bikini clung to every part of her.

She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her shoulders. Nick was on the low diving board, the super bouncy one. He looked over at Anna and did a double take.

“Hey, that's my towel!” he said. She looked down and put her hand to her mouth.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” she said. She dropped it on a different chair and picked up her own.

“Thief!” he said, then ran down the board, jumped up at the end, bounced, and landed in a cannonball. He angled his body in a way as to make sure Anna got soaked.

She shrieked. I frowned. Nick popped up from the water, laughing. The lifeguard tooted her whistle.

“C'mon, Nick,” she said. “No splashing.”

“Sorry,” he said.

Anna ran over to the side of the pool, cupped her hand in the water and splashed Nick back.

Another whistle.

“OK guys, out of the pool,” the lifeguard said. “It's almost adult swim anyway.”

I paddled over to the ladder and climbed up after Nick. The three of us all dried off as the grown-ups emerged from the changing rooms: caps, googles, flip-flops, Speedos, one-pieces in utilitarian colors.

“What are you guys up to now?” she asked. I looked at Nick.

“Dunno,” Nick said.

“Yeah, not sure,” I said.

“We should hang out,” Anna said. “Sucks that school is already tomorrow.”

“Definitely, let's do something,” I said.

“We could go back to my place and watch a movie,” Nick said.

Nick's parents just had their basement redone with a home theater system and a laserdisc player, a new couch and recliners. I had only seen it once, at his birthday party the month before, but it was more of an outdoor party anyway.

“Cool. What movies do you have?” Anna asked.

“Pretty much everything,” Nick said. “My dad just went on like a huge shopping spree.”

“Awesome,” she said. “Is it OK with your parents?”

“Of course,” Nick said. “No prob.”

“Great. Mikey, you coming?” Anna said.

Nick gave me a look. I gave him one back.

“Absolutely,” I said.

We put our clothes on over our swimsuits. I watched as Anna put on jean shorts over her bikini bottoms, getting the seat wet. She tied up her red hair with a little rainbow ribbon. Anna never wore shoes, kept a pair of jelly slippers in her canvas bag in case she had to go into a store. We walked out the back gate as the whistle blew again and the adults jumped in.

Nick stopped at the bike rack under the old oak tree and unlocked his Schwinn. Anna did the same, then looked over at me.

“Where's your bike?” she asked.

“I walked,” I said. “We live close.”

“Cool. Do you want to get your bike from your house and meet us, or...”

“He doesn't have a bike,” Nick said, wheeling his over.

“What happened?” Anna asked.

“Someone stole it,” Nick said before I could answer.

“Bunch of savages in this town,” I said.

“Clerks,” Nick said.

“Nice,” said Anna.

“But it's cool,” I said. “I have something better.”

“What is it?” Nick asked, frowning.

“Yeah, what is it?” Anna asked, smiling.

I liked seeing her smile. I liked the suspense. I wanted to keep it going.

“Follow me and I'll show you,” I said.

We cut through the four small pine trees that acted as a gateway next to the sign that read “The Quad”: pool, soccer fields, baseball diamond, basketball courts.

Anna walked alongside me, Nick rode ahead slowly. He did lazy criss-crosses from one side of the street to the other, taking his hands off the bars, doing wheelies, looking back every so often to check if Anna was watching him.

Instead, she was talking to me. Nothing in particular, just chatting about the summer, about anticipation of the upcoming school year. Still my heart raced. My hands were sweaty, I was flush and breathing heavily, cotton-mouthed. I couldn't help peeking at her toe rings.

We turned the corner onto Chestnut Street and arrived at my house. The grass was a little overgrown and my mom's silver Toyota Tercel was in the driveway. As I looked at our house, I thought about how it must look to Nick and Anna, who had never been there. They probably thought it needed a new coat of paint.

“You sure you guys don't want to go to the bluffs, or to Bruno's, or something instead?” I asked as we stood in the driveway.

“No, I feel like seeing a movie,” Anna said.

“You can stay here if you want, we'll just see you tomorrow at school,” Nick said.

I looked at Anna. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She bit her lip, looked at her bike seat.

“No, it's cool. Just give me a sec,” I said.

I walked in the house, said a quick hi to my mom, then went to the garage. I put a new CD in the Aiwa 3-disc changer, turned it up, and went to the front as the music started. We didn't have an electric garage door opener, so I reached down and pulled the heavy door up, straining, the light pouring in. It made a metal-on-metal sound that was drowned out by the music. I think it was pretty dramatic.

“Whoa!” Nick said.

“Cool!” Anna said. They put down their bikes in the driveway and walked into the garage.

**

“It's the thuggish ruggish bone...”

The garage set up was my brother Jason's big summer project, where he spent as much time as he could smoking weed, watching The Doors movie over and over, and listening to Tool. As Bone Thugs-N-Harmony played, Nick and Anna looked around. There was no car inside. Instead, a few old rugs were spread over the floor, a couch and two ratty old recliners flanked a makeshift coffee table made from egg crates and plywood in the middle of the room. A lava lamp was on top of a few egg crate, a black light hung up next to a Bob Marley and a pot leaf poster. A TV with our old VCR sat in one corner; a drumset and a bass guitar in the other. A bench press was in the back near the tool chest, and in the front, The Broped.

The Broped was what my older brother Ryan and I called Jason's moped, which he bought with paper route money the day after his 14th birthday.

“Is this place yours?” Anna asked, eyes wide.

“Yep,” I lied. “Been working on it all summer.”

Every bit of the garage was Jason's: the moped, the TV, the music, the weights. The weights were getting a lot of use lately because Jason had just been made varsity quarterback as a sophomore, and he needed to bulk up. Every night he was in the garage, lifting for hours while watching old movies taped off the TV, drinking a gallon of milk, and eating those fifty cent fruit pies from the gas station after afternoon football practice. He shooed me away anytime I tried to enter.

Anna sat down, leafed through a stack of Maxim magazines on the table. Nick went right to the weight bench and started putting plates on the bar.

“Spot me?” he asked.

“Don't touch that,” I said. Jason never let me touch his stuff, so it was almost a reflex at that point.

“Why not?”

“Well,” I said. “You might hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, right,” Nick said, scoffing. “Spot me.”

I went behind him, put my hands near the bar. Nick had 2 plates on it for 145 pounds.

He started, bringing it down to his chest, pushing up once, twice, three times. His face was red, a vein in his neck popping.

On his fourth rep, he got halfway up and hit a plateau. His arms shook and some small white spit flew out of his mouth.

I pulled the bar up from his shaking arms, and placed it – with some effort – back onto the rack.

“You gotta start with less weight,” I said.

Nick gave me a look as he sat up.

“Whatever,” he said. “You couldn't even do one rep of that.”

“You guys are being stupid,” Anna said, glancing up from her magazine. “It's not a competition.”

We both looked over at her. She was lounging on the couch, her bare legs dangling off the edge, and it seemed like they took up the entire room.

“I'll match you,” I said. Anna rolled her eyes and went back to reading.

“Go for it,” Nick said.

He stood up and gestured for me to sit down.

I sat down, took a few breaths.

“Well?” Nick said.

“Anna,” I said. She looked over again. “You count. I don't trust this guy.”

She sighed and walked over.

“Fine,” she said. “Go for it.”

I took another deep breath, then clutched the bar. I closed my eyes, then pulled it off.

Fuck, it was heavy.

“Turn up the music!” I yelled as I started my reps.

Anna ran over the the CD changer and turned the dial high.

“1st of tha Month” played loud as I cranked out the first rep. Then two. Then three.

Like Nick, I struggled on the fourth.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, it's the first of the month, so get up, get up, get up...”

I pushed hard. My chest felt like it was going to explode. My arms burned. I pushed and quaked. The bar slowly bent back toward me.

Nick grabbed at it. “That's it, you're done,” he said.

“No!” I yelled. I gave one last push. Four.

I put the bar back on the rack and threw my arms up in victory.

“Nice!” shouted Anna.

“Good job,” Nick yelled. I danced around like Rocky, throwing punches at the air.

Blood was running through me and I felt like I could do anything. I beat Nick at bench press, I was going to walk Anna home tonight after the movie and try to kiss her, I convinced them this was my hangout place, I was going to make new friends and be cool as hell at school tomorrow and everyone would like me and nothing could stop me and maybe I'd even run for student council.

My mom suddenly opened the side door and shouted in. I couldn't tell what she was saying.

I trotted over to the CD player and turned it down.

“What?” I said, my ears ringing.

“I said: 'Is everything OK?' I heard yelling.”

We all looked at each other.

“Everything's fine,” I said. “Just messing around.”

“Well, good,” my mom said. “Just keep it down, OK?”

“Sure, mom,” I said. She started to shut the door. I looked over at The Broped, ran over to her in the doorway.

“Hey, wait,” I said.

“What's wrong, honey?” she said.

“Nothing, mom,” I said. “Everything's great. I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Jason earlier and he told me I could take his moped out for a spin today.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, totally,” I said. “And Anna and I were going to go to Nick's to watch a movie, so I thought I'd take it there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's fine, really,” I said.

“Well,” she said with a sigh. “It's his to make that choice. But if you're going to do it, make sure to wear a helmet.”

“Of course.”

“And please be careful.”

“I will, Mom.”

“Have fun and just make sure to be home for dinner, OK?” she said, and walked back into the house.

I turned around and looked over at Nick and Anna.

“Sorry about that,” I said, walking across the room.

“Can we go watch this movie already?” Nick said.

“Yeah, let's do it,” I said.

“Is your mom going to drive you or something?” Nick asked.

“No,” I said. “Remember when I said I had something better?”

I pointed to The Broped. It was cherry red with whitewall tires and looked gleaming under the lights, like it was in a showroom.

Anna walked over to it. “This is yours too?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said.

“Can I drive it?” she asked.

“No,” I said, swinging my leg over it and sitting down. “But you can ride on the back.”

I slammed my leg down hard on the pedal to start it, but it didn't go.

I had seen Jason do it dozens of times, so what was I messing up?

Nick suppressed a laugh, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just a sec.”

He looked at the switches on the handlebars.

“Don't you usually have to turn one of these on or something?”

“I don't –“ I said, then stopped myself. “I mean, yeah, just give me a minute.”

Anna flopped back on the couch, picked up another magazine. She flipped through the pages loudly.

“Can I try?” Nick said.

“No, I got it.”

“Let him try, Mike” Anna said, sitting up from the couch.

“I'm good,” I said.

“Obviously not,” Nick said.

“Listen, Nick –“ I said, swinging my leg around from the moped to square up on him.

Just then, a van pulled up. All three of us looked over.

The side door slid open. A gym bag flew out, plopped onto the driveway.

My brother Jason emerged, sweaty, dirty, grimy. He slammed the van door shut and said a few words I didn't hear, patted the quarter panel twice, and looked over at us as the van drove off.

“What are you doing?” he said. I thought of the Incredible Hulk as he approached. It seemed like he'd turn green and his shirt would rip off his body and he'd grow 10 feet tall and throw me all the way across town into a tall building.

But no. He seemed more tired than anything, his shoulders slumped from his second practice of the day.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Good, then get off my moped,” he said.

So I did. I looked at Anna and Nick, who were staring right at the floor.

“I just was showing them,” I said.

“And get out of my spot too,” he said. “I told you before I don't want you in here.”

“We were just checking it out,” Anna said. “It's really cool what you've done with the garage.”

He stopped for a second, looked at her.

“Thanks,” he said. “You in his class?”

She nodded.

“See you at school tomorrow,” she said to her. Then he looked at me. “Close the door when you leave.”

He trudged into the house through the two poplar trees in the yard.

There was a long pause after he left. No one said anything, I think Nick kicked a small rock across the room.

“Guys --” I said, trying to explain, trying to figure out a plausible lie.

“So. We still going to watch a movie, or what?” Anna asked.

They walked out to their bikes, and I closed the garage door, the mechanical slam ramming into the pavement behind me.

**

Nick's house was just across the railroad tracks on Beech Street under a canopy of apple trees in a long row of old homes that went back to before the Civil War. They were big and ancient and some of them had places in their basements, hidden compartments where people used to hide slaves escaping on the Underground Railroad.

We entered through the garage, which they used as a front door and which Nick opened via a glowing electronic keypad. The door whooshed open with a purr. The space was pristine, nothing in it except a few small boxes and a new Audi A4 next to Nick's dad's motorcycle, a Harley. They had a carpet and a shoe rack right inside the entrance to take off your shoes; I refused because I knew my feet would stink and Nick would say something about it.

His parents had recently completely redone the house and refinished the bottom floor with drop ceilings, drywall, plush furniture. Everything was white and beige and clean. They had a whole area for the kids, a whole other area for the adults, and Nick loved to show all of it off. Anna had never been there, so he gave her a tour, with me following behind. Here was the new Hewlett-Packard Pentium computer with Windows 95 and a CD-ROM of Myst. Here was his little sister's Beanie Babies collection on a mini pink couch. Here was a homebrewing kit his dad, a German immigrant who worked at P&G, recently got into. Here was the home theater system with the laserdisc collection.

Anna crouched down, rifled through them, plastic slapping as she looked at each in turn: FORREST GUMP, THE USUAL SUSPECTS, SPEED, THE CROW, THE FIRM, THE FUGITIVE, JURASSIC PARK, JUDGEMENT NIGHT, DEMOLITION MAN, COOL WORLD, FERNGULLY, SINGLES, UNDER SIEGE, MY COUSIN VINNY, WAYNE'S WORLD, SO I MARRIED AN AXE MURDERER, PULP FICTION.

“That's the one,” Anna said, stopping her skimming. “I've been wanting to see this but my dad won't let me.”

“Sweet,” Nick said. He put the movie on the player as Anna and I sat on the leather couch. Nick sat down holding the remote, him on one side, me on the other, Anna in the middle.

Nick's mom came down with popcorn, which she served with real butter. She also gave us a bowl of M&Ms, with the new blue ones, and cans of Surge soda, Nick's favorite.

The movie was great, I think, but I barely paid attention. The whole time I was trying to find a way to get Anna's attention, to put my hand on her leg, to tickle her, to play footsie.

As the credits rolled, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and talked to myself:

“This is a test, as to whether or not you have any courage.”

I sighed, stared at my own face as I talked softly.

“So, you're going to go out there, say goodbye, walk Anna home, and kiss her goodnight. And that's exactly what you're going to do.”

I came out of the bathroom to hear Alanis Morissette playing on the stereo, stopped in my tracks when I saw Anna's legs hanging off the couch, but this time she was sitting in Nick's lap, making out with him.

I felt frozen, stuck in place. Time slowed down, the music suddenly sounded like it was on a record that had been put on the wrong speed. I crouched behind the corner, my heart beating fast, my feet not staying still.

I looked again. They kept kissing, her eyes closed, her hands gripping his hair. I glanced at her feet again, noticed the bottoms were black, her pink nail polish chipped.

I didn't know what to do. All the blood in my body felt like it was up in my head, tingling my scalp. I was about to tip-toe up the stairs as quietly as possible when I heard a call from above.

“Supper!” Nick's mom yelled from the kitchen.

They unfurled themselves and jumped up, faces red.

I emerged from my hiding place, trying to act like I hadn’t seen anything.

“Hey,” I said. What else was there to say?

“What's up?” Nick said.

“Was just gonna head home,” I said. I looked at Anna, who wouldn't look at me. “Can I walk you back to your place?”

“Oh, um --” she said, then looked back at Nick.

“She's actually staying here for dinner tonight,” Nick said.

Anna looked back at him and smiled.

**

I left through the garage door. The smell of grilled sausages came through the walls as I peered in the tinted windows of the SUV, touched the chrome on the motorcycle. A box on the ground had “Apfelwein” written on the back in black Sharpie. There were three bottles with clasp tops, and I stuffed one into my back pocket.

I walked along the railroad, looked both ways to make sure no one saw me as I opened it. It tasted like bottled autumn. The drink burned in my throat, but I promised myself I'd finish it all by the time I got home.

As I left the tracks to approach the road home, I heard the unmistakable sound of my brother’s moped. He sped by and I waved to him, but he was going too fast and didn’t see me.

The light was starting to fade, the sun touching everything on its way down, through and below the rows of buckeye trees by Four Mile Creek. The leaves would be changing soon, green to gold and burnt orange to brown, then they'd fall to the ground.

Tomorrow I would see Nick and Anna again on the first day of our freshman year of high school. I wondered what we'd say to each other.