Chapter Seven
The Peach Play Games
Song: Stand By Me—John Lennon
I spent every day with Darren. We went swimming again, hung out at the park, and prepared for the Peach Play Games.
I was halfway through reading my library book, and Darren was working on learning how to play “Pitiful Peaches” on the drums. I asked him multiple times if I could hear it, but he would only let me once he perfected it.
The days were getting longer and hotter.
Although I was having a great time with Darren, I missed my other friends.
I needed to talk to Betsy more than anything.
She would know why it bugged me that a girl hit on Darren.
I convinced myself it was because I wanted to protect him, not for another reason.
To enter the Peach Play Games, you needed a team of four players.
Each player from a team would sign up for a game.
Darren signed up for peach baskets. I signed up for bowling.
My mom was going to bake peach crumble bars for the sweet treat competition.
James signed up for the sawing contest. We were prepared.
The team with the most winners received free ice cream from the Peach Pot for the rest of the summer and a brand-new pedal boat!
On the day of the games, I sprung out of bed with a spring in my step. I was more than ready.
Darren came over early in the morning to get his team shirt.
“Good morning, Darren, the basketball star! Are you ready to win a pedal boat?”
“Of course I am. We will use that boat the rest of the summer,” Darren said, matching my enthusiasm.
James handed Darren his sage green shirt. The shirt was soft and contained black letters embroidered on the back stating, “Hartleys.” My grandma made the shirts before she left.
“If we win, I am going to use that boat to go fishing all the time. Don’t worry though, you guys can come with me when we win,” James gloated.
Darren shook his hand. “Hey, this is your family, James. You can use the boat however you like.”
My stepdad smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.
My momma was preparing water bottles to keep us hydrated throughout the day. The competition started at ten o’clock, so it was almost time to leave. She gathered the drinks and her peach crumble bars and entered the front of the truck.
Since there was not enough room for all four of us to sit, I sat in the bed of the pickup truck with Darren.
When the truck turned, gravity made Darren’s leg slightly graze mine.
A jolt of electricity flowed through my body.
I pulled my leg closer to my chest and swung my arm out the side as the wind brushed my bare face.
Team check-in was in front of the library.
My stepdad signed us in and paid our dues, before we headed to the basketball court for the first game.
Darren was practicing shooting air hoops as he waited in line.
One by one, each contestant would get a bucket of peaches to throw in the basketball hoop.
The contestants had to stand in a line twenty feet away from the hoop and throw as many peaches as they could in one minute.
Whoever made the most peaches in the basket would win the round.
Darren’s brother, Benji, went first. He scored two peaches in one minute. We cheered him on to show our good sportsmanship. I was proud of him for doing his best. After three more people, it was Darren’s turn.
Darren approached the line and bent his knees toward the lined pavement. The judge started the timer and blew his whistle.
“Ready, set, go!”
Darren grabbed two peaches at a time and threw them at once. The first two swooshed into the basket with speed.
The crowd gasped.
“Are you allowed to do that?” one observer asked.
“No rules have been broken. Darren can continue,” claimed the judge.
Darren bent his knees again, grabbing two at a time.
I stared at him in amazement. He made eye contact with me as he threw them, and they fell to the concrete.
The crowd became still. He wiped his hands on his shorts and tried again.
He focused on the basket, and the peaches flew through the air.
They hit the rim at the last second and bounced forward into the hoop.
The timer beeped, and his turn was over.
He’d made four peaches into the basket. Two more people tried to beat his record and fell short.
Darren was announced as the winner of the 1975 Peach Baskets Game.
He ran up and hugged me with a slight squeeze.
I was a fresh peach in his hands, but I was not ready to be picked.
“One game down, three more to go, Copper,” he said with a grin.
I pulled away from him. “Momma is next.”
The sweet treat competition took place under a gazebo in the park.
We huddled around the picnic table as the judges tasted each recipe.
My grandma typically made her famous peach cobbler for the contest. My mom improvised since she was not there, and Grandma refused to give her a Hartley recipe because she wasn’t blood.
My mom’s peach bars tasted similar to Grandma’s creations, so I was assured of my mother’s dish even when she wasn’t.
The judge started at the beginning of the table, tasting each treat with consideration.
Embellished pots and pans lay decoratively on the table, making each treat look delicious.
When he got to my mom’s bars, he paused.
His eyes watered, and his nose flinched.
He got to the last treat on the table and scribbled on his notepad.
They told the spectators that the winner would be announced in five minutes.
The judge conversed with his family and city council to have them taste each sweet treat.
After what felt like forever, the judge said, “The winner of the 1975 Peach Sweet Treat competition goes to April Hartley!”
“Oh, my! Thank you. I did not expect this.” My mom rejoiced as the judge elevated her arm to represent her victory.
Winning a baking contest wasn’t just a small triumph for my momma.
It was important. Grandma Hartley was the one who could bake and had all of the secret recipes up her sleeve.
She didn’t think my mom was a good enough baker for her son, but this gave Momma the confidence she lacked.
Her smile widened as people complimented her dish.
The bowling tournament was next. The palms of my hands were sweaty.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Darren. We lay in the grass and shot gunned a ton of water until we felt hydrated under the beating sun.
I began to not feel so well. Every time I looked at Darren my heartbeat quickened.
I didn’t know what to do. Why did he have to look so good?
Before I could think, my family was encouraging me to get in line for the Peach Bowl.
“You got this, Copper!” Darren said.
I waited stiffly on the hard ground for my attempt. The Peach Bowl had the same rules as bowling, except there were only five rounds instead of ten. The lane was constructed out of a smooth tarp and glass soda bottles. The judge ensured there were no rocks to disrupt the flow of the peaches.
I stepped forward, got into position, moved my arms back, and let go at the right time. Four out of ten pins fell to the ground. In my peripheral vision, I could see Darren jumping up and down.
“Yes!”
Four pins were great for a single roll. Peaches do not weigh much, so knocking down glass bottles with the sweet fruit was challenging.
However, when I made eye contact with Darren, I lost all concentration I came to the competition with.
My legs were weak, and I couldn’t breathe.
It was like he was undressing me with his eyes.
I bowled my second try and missed all the remaining pins. I sulked to the back of the line.
Darren waved at me and mouthed, “You got this. Shake it off.” I couldn’t shake it off.
I did not know what I was doing. How could I be sure of myself if I was in denial about liking my best friend?
Each turn got worse and worse. Darren and my family kept shaking their heads in frustration.
I was ruining their chance of winning the pedal boat.
I detested letting them down, but how could I focus when all I wanted was to squeeze Darren’s shoulders again or kiss his soft looking lips?
I was not surprised when, at the end of the final round, they announced that one of Darren’s sisters had won. I was dazed and confused.
“Penny, I think you have heat stroke. You do not look too great. Darren, sweetie, could you take her somewhere to cool off? Make sure she drinks lots of fluids,” my mom said with a concerned look.
“No, Momma, I will stay to watch James compete. Then I will go. I promise.”
My mom grudgingly nodded as she led James to the Peach Tree Saw contest. The sawing contest was the simplest one. Whoever cut through a peach tree trunk the fastest won. It was an easy task for James, so I wasn’t worried. Darren and I watched from a distance as the whistle shrieked.
James moved the saw back and forth as if his life depended on it. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his motion slowed. The ridges on the saw stopped cutting through the wood. His cheeks sparkled, and for a moment, the sweat resembled tears.
Darren’s dad, Gabriel, was catching up to him.
“How is my dad—” Gabriel’s log broke into two pieces with a loud clunk!
“Darren, I think your dad just won,” I said, astonished.
Gabriel had scrawny arms that fit into suits for preaching, not cutting logs.
The Hartleys and the Lawrences tied for the 1975 Peach Play Games.
The judge and our parents formed an intimate circle.
We watched in uncertainty as they talked in hushed tones.
“Okay, we have reached an agreement! The Hartleys will take the new pedal boat, and the Lawrences will receive free ice cream for the rest of the summer! What an amazing compromise, folks! Thank you to everyone for coming out. Supporting this town helps us grow,” the judge said.
Darren and I gazed at each other. We held back until the crowd became less dense. “Let’s get you back to the cabin, Copper. You need to rest. I have never seen you mess up bowling so bad. Ice cream is on me the rest of the summer.”
He pretended to help me walk to the truck like I was severely injured. He acted like nothing had changed between us, but I was an awkward mess.
My momma and stepdad were seated in the front and were unaware we were at the back of the tailgate.
“I am tired of this. I wanted to win those stupid games for my family, but I failed. I failed at my day job! I need to do something else,” we overheard James say.
“It was just a silly competition, and we won the boat you wanted. Isn’t that enough?” my mom asked.
“Do you know why I slowed down? I slowed down because I thought of my dad and how he was the glue of my family. Without my dad, my mom has gone crazy. We just ignore her hoarding problem. She guilts me every time we stay here. She reminds me I will never live up to him, and staying in that room drives me insane,” he sputtered.
“I am sorry. I did not know this was on your mind. We can’t leave yet. Penny would be upset. We can head home sometime after her birthday.”
Darren knew I could not take listening to their private conversation anymore. He loudly hit the tailgate and jumped in the back. “Hey! Everyone did great today! Why don’t we take Penny back to the cabin? I think we all could use some rest.”
“I agree, Darren. Thank you for joining our team. You are a peach,” my mom said, concurring with him as the truck rumbled up the gravel path.
****
When I got home, the phone rang. I took it off the wall and answered. “Hartley’s residence. Penelope speaking. Who am I talking to?”
“Penny! First off, I am so sorry I went to camp. My parents forced me to go, and although I miss you like crazy, you won’t believe what has happened,” Betsy screeched.
“Hey, Betsy! It’s okay. I miss you too. How’s camp?”
“Camp has been ... interesting. I sort of am now dating Thomas,” Betsy said.
“What? How did that happen?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It’s like one day, he looked different to me. I realized that he is kind and funny, and he listens. One thing led to another, and we are going steady.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. I am happy for you two.”
“So, how’s Moose Creek with Darren?” she pried.
“A girl hit on him when we went to the creek, and I felt weird. Plus, I might have to go home sooner than expected. It’s all screwed up. This summer was supposed to be perfect,” I admitted.
“Why do you have to leave? You aren’t making any sense. Explain more.”
“Fine.” I explained everything. I described every second I spent with Darren so far. From the first night I arrived, down to our knees touching in the pick-up.
She listened without judgment and then she spoke. “You were jealous. You like him. It’s that simple. You have to tell him before you leave.”
“No. That can’t be it. Tell me it’s not,” I whined, hoping she would tell me the opposite.
“It is. I got to go. I only have so many phone minutes to use. You need to get out of your mind and see where life takes you. You can’t avoid something because you are afraid.
Darren is a good match for you, and he adores you.
You should tell him how you feel, then maybe you could end up like me and Thomas. Have a great birthday! Night.”
Betsy lived life on the edge, while I liked to live grounded. I had dreams like everyone else and wanted to make connections, but loving someone was different. Loving someone meant opening a world of hurt I didn’t want to face.
The phone made a busy signal and went to the tone as I slammed the phone back onto the hook. I took a deep breath. My world was falling apart. I liked Darren, and my stepdad was miserable. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I needed to figure out what I wanted and fast.