One Fat Summer by Robert Lipsyte Page B

opening night curtain or the heavyweight champ is waiting for the opening bell before a fight. A light fluffy nervousness that disappears after the actor says his first line or the champ throws his first punch. On edge. Ready to go. I tried to think about it, but I didn’t get very far. I knew it had something to do with that night on the island. Something had happened to me, and it wasn’t all bad, not at all.
    Joanie called me Thursday night. Person-to-person from the city. I never had a person-to-person long distance call before. The connection wasn’t too good.
    â€œBob?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œIt’s Joanie.”
    â€œHi.”
    â€œHi, yourself. Have you been thinking about me?” It was her voice all right, but she sounded sort of teasey, not like her at all.
    â€œSure,” I lied.
    â€œI’m coming up Saturday.”
    â€œThat’s great.”
    â€œI’m just giving you a little advance warning.”
    â€œHow come?”
    She started giggling. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack.”
    â€œBecause you’re coming up?”
    â€œYou’ll see what I mean. Just be prepared.”
    â€œFor what?” I asked.
    â€œCuriosity killed the…”
    â€œWe went through that already. Were you in the hospital?”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œDid you have an operation?”
    â€œYes. Is this twenty questions?”
    â€œAre you all right now?”
    â€œBetter than ever,” she said.
    â€œWas your life in danger? Is that why you needed an operation?”
    â€œNo, I wanted the operation.”
    There was a few seconds of silence on the line while I tried to think. I had a thought that made me a little sick.
    â€œBob? You still there?”
    â€œJoanie? Did you…did you…have something removed?”
    â€œWho told you that?” Her voice got sharp.
    â€œNobody. Joanie…were you…were you…in trouble?”
    â€œBOB!” The receiver banged against my ear. “What’s wrong with you?”
    I felt better. “If you’re going to be so secretive…”
    â€œYou’ll just have to wait till Saturday. What’ve you been doing?”
    My mother was in the room so I couldn’t tell her. “Oh, nothing much.”
    â€œWe’ll be able to start the project soon.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œYou don’t sound too enthusiastic.”
    â€œI might be dead after I see you.”
    She giggled again. “That’s true.”
    The operator cut in. “Your three minutes are up. Please signal when you’re finished.”
    â€œGot to go now. See you Saturday.”
    â€œBye.” I waited for her to hang up.
    â€œHang up,” she said.
    â€œYou hang up.” I tapped the receiver against the side of the phone.
    â€œThat’s an old trick,” she said.
    â€œYou’re the tricky one.”
    She laughed and hung up.
    My mother said, “Was that Joanie?” As if she hadn’t been eavesdropping.
    â€œNo, it was Ike. He wanted to know if I liked him.”
    â€œWhat did she say?”
    â€œShe’s coming up Saturday.”
    â€œIs that all?”
    â€œWell, there was something else, but I can’t tell you. She swore me to secrecy. She told me all about her operation, but I can’t tell you.”
    â€œOh?” I could tell my mother was trying very hard not to laugh. “Bobby, you’re going to have to get up very early in the morning to put one over on your mother.”
    â€œSo you do know. And you won’t tell me.”
    â€œMy lips are sealed.” She pretended she was zippering her lips. “You’ll find out Saturday.”
    I put on a German accent. “Ve haff vays of getting information out of you Amedicans.”
    â€œNot the Breyers ice cream torture, anything but that.” Her eyes got very wide and she crossed her hands over her heart.
    â€œDas iss might. A