Summer of the Wolves by Lisa Williams Kline Page B

an imitation of a chicken, flapping her elbows. “Brraak! Brrraaak!”
    “Oh, yeah? I happen to be an excellent swimmer. I was a lifeguard in college.”
    “Some shallow suburban gene pool, right?” Lynn teased. “You sat on a lifeguard stand and twirled a whistle to the right … then twirled your whistle to the left.” Lynn pantomimed whistle twirling. “Norm Verra … expert whistle twirler.”
    Lynn pantomimed one last time, and Daddy tickled her ribcage. Lynn screamed and tried to get away. “Help, Stephanie!” she said, laughing, and she tried to get around the couch to dodge Daddy, but he caught up to her and tickled her without mercy. “Stephanie, tickle him, tickle him!” Lynn yelped.
    I hesitated a minute, then ran up behind Daddy and started tickling him under the arms.
    “Whoa!” Daddy turned around so fast I almost got an elbow in the head. And then both Daddy and Lynn started tickling me at the same time. I screamed and wriggled, and we all lost our balance and fell on the sofa. I was breathless and laughing, and my legs and arms were all tangled up with Daddy’s and Lynn’s. For a minute I forgot about how mad I felt and let happiness flow everywhere in my body like a warm wave.
    “We are going down the Nantahala, folks, and that’s my final answer,” Daddy said with a chuckle. “Nobody calls me a chicken.”
    “What about a pigeon? Has anybody ever called you a pigeon?” said Lynn.
    I took a deep breath. The music on the CD went weaving all around us like a silk ribbon. I wanted Daddy to see the good parts of me, not just the parts that were scared.
    The screen door squeaked and then slammed. Diana was standing in the doorway with an annoyed expression on her face.
    “What are you guys doing?” Diana’s voice sounded mad.
    “Nothing,” Daddy said. “Just a little family tickle-fest. Come on and join us.”
    “No way,” said Diana. “You guys look ridiculous.” She headed on up to the loft.
    “Hey, we’re going on a family white-water rafting trip day after tomorrow. Norm’s going to sign us up,” Lynn said to her. “Won’t that be fun?”
    “I’m not going,” said Diana from the top of the stairs. “I’m riding every day.”
    “No, this is going to be a family thing, sweetie; we’re all going,” said Lynn.
    “Not me,” came Diana’s voice from deep in the loft bedroom.
    “Just a minute, young lady; you stop right there,” said Lynn. She untangled her arm from around me and sat up, looking upstairs.
    “What?” said Diana, looking down at us over the loft railing.
    “When I want to talk to you, you don’t just walk away. Come back downstairs,” Lynn said, and this time she said it louder.
    “No!”
    Lynn stood up with her hands on her hips. “Diana, let’s not get in a big argument about this. This is a family vacation and our whole family is going to go white-water rafting. Including you. You’ll get to ride plenty.”
    “First of all, we are not a ‘family,’” Diana said, holding her hands and making air quotations. “Second of all, I’m not arguing. I’m just not going.” She glared at all of us and turned away.
    I didn’t care whether Diana went rafting. I wanted out myself. But I couldn’t imagine saying all that stuff that Diana was saying.
    “Diana, your mother told you to come downstairs.” Daddy’s voice was louder than usual.
    “You have nothing to do with me!” Diana said.
    I glanced at Daddy’s face and saw it turn all red. I curled into a tight ball in the corner of the couch.
    “Diana!” Daddy was shouting now. “Come downstairsright this minute and apologize to your mother for being disrespectful.”
    “I’m not doing anything!” Diana’s mad face showed above the railing again.
    Daddy got white spots on his cheeks and he pointed his finger at her. I could only remember one time he’d gotten this mad before, and that was at Mama. “And you WILL go rafting with the rest of this family day after tomorrow.”
    “I