“Oh, we have been invited too,” said Marge Greene. “There will be a barbecue.”

  Kris was not overly surprised to learn this but had to comment, “Don’t wyers see enough of each other on weekdays?”

  Marge turned to her daughter. “They need weekends to discuss politics,” she deadpanned.

  Kris fell into the spirit of it, gravely shaking her head. “And on the sabbath, yet. I just hope he sticks to the kosher hot dogs.”

  She realized at once maybe she shouldn’t have made the joke. Her mother did make an effort, at least now and then, to have her family be more observant. David Thomas Greene and daughter were probably hopeless causes.

  In truth, Kris didn’t quite know what she believed. At times she thought maybe she was an atheist. She didn’t think about any of it very often.

  “I think I’ll ride the bike again,” she told her mother. Marge seemed comfortable with the change in topic. “As long as I got it out I might as well use it this summer. Maybe I’ll even take it with me to Miami!”

  Marge had to smile at that. Both knew well that Kris was given to sudden enthusiasms. “It might be nice to have an adult bicycle instead.”

  “When I’m adult sized! See you ter, Mom.”

  “Dinner?”

  “I’ll try.”

  Her mother was right, decided Kris, as she pedaled away from their house, west toward the beach. She didn’t need a rger bike but the Stingray was for kids. Did anyone ride around the Miami campus anyway? Or the city?

  Stingrays had been brand-new when she was thirteen and Kris had insisted she must have one. Not this one. It was newer and not used much since she got the Bug.

  She wheeled past the pier. Pretty crowded for a Tuesday. A hot Tuesday with the noon sun beating down. Kris felt the perspiration running down her back under the tee she had thrown on. It would be soaked soon.

  Those clouds building out to the east promised everyone a soaking soon. She didn’t stop but took a right up Twelfth Avenue, lined with parked cars, and past the big banyan. There were kids standing in its shade, as usual. No one she recognized or wanted to admit to recognizing. She turned left at the next corner; the old Naples Hotel site kept the street from going through. Back and forth, left and right, she zigzagged through the older part of town, heading toward Cambier Park. Can-of-Beer Park as they had always called it. It was close enough to easily walk from her home but Kris hadn’t bothered in a long time.

  When she was younger, the rec center there had practically been a second home. She would walk over after the junior high let out—it was only a few blocks away—and kill time. It was better when she could get her friends to come too.

  Up Eighth Avenue to the front of the center, a not particurly rge building, tan stucco and tall, narrow, tinted-gss windows. Oh, there was Donny’s bike. The st thing she wanted to do was hang with her brother and she was sure he felt the same. If he had any sense—which she doubted—he’d be inside, in the air conditioning. Pying ping pong maybe. She chained the Stingray and wandered around toward the rear of the building. A few seniors were on the shuffle board courts. Some guys out in the heat pying basketball, and deserted tennis courts beyond them. Who would be crazy enough to be shooting hoops in this heat?

  Well, Donny, she realized as she got closer. Two other guys, both bigger. Guys she knew. They were pying one of those stupid games where you try to hit the other guy’s shot. Horse or whatever they called it.

  She leaned against the high chain link fence, hanging with her fingers through the mesh, a little while before they noticed her. “Now we can have teams,” said Harold Macklin. “The Greenes against me and Doughnut.”

  “The two of them put together are barely as tall as you, Mackie,” replied William. “Hi, Kris.”

  “Hi. You all go on pying. I’m just killing time.”

  Mackie stood in one spot, slowly dribbling, one hand and then the other. “I’m ready to quit. At least for a while. And I need a drink.”

  It took a while to fill three hot and thirsty boys at the nearby drinking fountain. More so in that they felt the need to spsh a good bit of the water on themselves and each other, not to mention time also spent pushing each other aside. Then all four plopped down in the shade of one of the ficus trees pnted around the center.

  No one felt like saying anything for a minute or two. It was enough just to cool down. Then Donny asked, “Gonna py anymore?”

  Mackie only shook his head. “Think not,” said William.

  “Think I’ll go inside then. Get a Coke.” With that, he was gone.

  “He’s being discreet,” observed Macklin. “He knows he’s a, um, fourth wheel.”

  “Yeah?” asked William. “I wouldn’t have thought of that. I mean, the kid gettin’ out of the way.”

  But Mackie was quite possibly right, thought Kris. Donny had a lot of sense when it came to social situations. She sometimes wished she had a pest for a little brother, as girls always seemed to have in stories.

  “I’m invited to a party at the Summerlin house on Saturday,” she said. “Want to come? Either of you.”

  “You mean it’s one or the other?” asked Mackie. He sounded so serious Doughnut might have believed he meant it.

  “But of course. I can’t show up with two dates, can I?”

  “Why not?’ Both grinned. After a moment’s hesitation, William did too.

  “Unfortunately,” said Mackie, “I, uh, already have pns. Booth here can escort you. You’re not working, right?”

  “Nope. No pns either.” He turned to Kris, decidedly hesitant. “Sure you’d want me to come?”

  “Sure!” Why not?

  “I’d recommend skipping the barbecue and waiting till it gets dark,” said Mackie.

  “Right. All the adults will be a bit sloshed.” She ughed and shook her head. “I forget we’re adults now!”

  “Not till fall. We got one st summer to be kids,” Doughnut announced.

  One summer. One summer to say goodbye to being kids, to the world in which they’d grown up. To everything.

  “I need to get going,” said Mackie. “You riding with me, Doughnut?”

  “Um, yeah, I’d better.” His eyes, perhaps inadvertently, flicked for a second to the police station across the street. Even these days, it probably wasn’t best for a bck kid to be walking through downtown Naples. He’d have been hesitant about coming to the park by himself. Kris recognized this when she thought about it.

  Maybe she didn’t think about things like that often enough. “I could ride him home on my handlebars,” she offered.

  “I’ll have to depend on that on Saturday. Let’s go, Mackerel. Good to see you, Kris.” The pair rose and headed to the parking lot.

  Kris sat a while longer, leaning back against the tree trunk. Dark clouds were piling up out over the Gdes but the sun still shone overhead. There would be more sunny days but summer would end. Their st summer.

  One summer in the sun and then life would change for all of them.