Lila Blue by Annie Katz Page A

said they make the best salt water taffy at the one across from her
barbershop."
    "Ooh. Taffy. Send me a giant
bag," she said. "Promise?"
    "Sure," I said.
    "Hey, my cousins are back. I
have to go. Call me again."
    "Okay, and you can call me.
Anytime. Lila wants me to feel at home here."
    "She sounds cool," Shelly
said. "I miss you."
    I told her I missed her too, and we
hung up. I was homesick again, but it didn't scare me this time.
    I stayed at the beach house that
afternoon while Lila worked. I wanted to have the whole place to myself. I
wanted to find out how it felt to be alone.
    To start with, I took a short walk
on the beach. The rain had stopped and shafts of sunlight pierced the clouds as
I walked down the beach stairs. I went barefoot, and my feet were practically
numb with cold and shock by the time I got to the wet sand. It would take a
while for the poor soles to get accustomed to freedom.
    I told them to toughen up and
walked down to the surf line, and with my jeans rolled up, I strode along into
the wind, which bit into my cheeks. It seemed impossible that it was hot in
Wisconsin and hot in Sacramento and cold at the beach in Oregon. Was there any
such thing as summer here?
    The seagulls were arranged on the
sand like little battalions of soldiers, all hunkered down, beaks to the wind.
If a dog or walker disturbed them, they all spread their wings and lifted off,
flapped a few times, hovered fifteen feet above the sand until the disturbance
was gone, and then landed in formation to get on with naps or contemplations or
whatever they were doing. I wondered why they weren't hanging around some beach
in Mexico, or at least San Diego. Maybe they thought the whole world was windy
and rainy and cold. Had they no imagination? No hope for a better life?
    When my nose and ears were as cold
as my toes, I turned around and was pushed down the beach toward home. I
panicked for a second when I couldn't spot Lila's house. There was a gray rock
house, only it wasn't on a hill. Farther down the coast than I thought it
should be, there it was, and I was so relieved I practically ran back.
    Chloe and Zoe ambushed me near the
foot of the stairs. Since Lila wasn't there, both cats came to me for petting,
and I was surprised how soft their fur was and how bony their shoulders and
spines. They meowed at me and I meowed back, which seemed to satisfy them, and
they raced up the stairs and were sleeping on the couch by the time I rinsed
off my feet and joined them in the living room.
    Rather than get out a footbath tub,
I took a long, warm shower. It felt delicious to know I had at least three more
hours all by myself.
    After drying off and getting clean
clothes and fuzzy slippers on, I went looking for the TV Guide. I hoped my
programs were on, because one of the things I really enjoyed was watching my
silly game shows in the living room with Shelly while my mom watched her silly
soap operas on the TV in her room.
    Shelly and I were friends because
we were the smartest kids in our class, we were both only children, and we
couldn't get excited about the latest nail polish color. Otherwise we weren't
that much alike. She was brown and curvy and liked boys, especially tall,
skinny older boys with blonde hair and blue eyes. Most boys turned into
drooling idiots when she walked by, so she had her pick.
    She had two parents, and she lived
with them in a huge house with elevators. The whole third story of their home
was devoted to entertainment, including a pool table and bar and ping-pong
table and big TV and stereo. Her mom was from southern India and her dad was
from northern Wisconsin, and they ran some kind of international advertising
company, so they had work parties at their house.
    Sometimes Shelly and I watched game
shows on their TV, but only when we could convince my mom there would be an
adult guarding us at all times. Shelly's parents were looser about adult
supervision than my mom was. They trusted Shelly and they believed the