Gonzo’s chair. He’s looking at her like she’s the first girl he ever laid eyes on and she’s looking back at him like he’s a real fifteen-year-old. I mean, he is a real fifteen-year-old, but I doubt he gets treated like one very often. She looks up at her dad and smiles. “Dad, this is Gonzo,” she says. She grins, but Karl doesn’t correct her. I think he likes the nickname.
Her dad extends his hand, and Gonzo reaches out to shake. I don’t think the kid gets this often, either. He looks almost honored, and I realize right then and there that I will do whatever it takes during camp to make sure he has a good time. He deserves it. Five days to be a normal boy.
“Reagan,” her dad says, cupping the back of her head in his big hand. She looks up him expectantly. “You met Pete?”
She nods and nibbles on her lower lip. “Briefly.”
“Don’t let me catch you in the woods with him again,” he says.
“Dad,” she complains.
“And don’t go into the woods with Gonzo, either. He looks even more dangerous than Pete.” Her dad scowls.
Gonzo grins.
Her dad points a finger at him. “Do you hear me, young man?” he asks. “Hands off my daughter.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “I know she’s pretty, but she’s off-limits.” He points at me and back to Gonzo, going back and forth a few times. “I got my eyes on you two.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, trying to look serious.
Her dad walks away. I sit down on the log beside her and stare into the flames. The sun has completely set, and the golden purples have faded into a dark sky filled with stars. “You want a marshmallow?” Reagan asks.
“I’m a city boy. We don’t roast marshmallows.” I shake my head.
“Gonzo?” she asks. He nods and rubs his chest to say please in sign language.
“He said please,” I tell her. He grins.
She puts a marshmallow on a stick for him and holds it out so he can grip it. His chair keeps him from getting too close, and his stick isn’t long enough. He visibly deflates. So I take two sticks and bend them together, making one long one. I pass it back to him. “Do you want me to do it for you?” she asks.
He shakes his head. I can do it.
I lay my head back and look up at the stars. But then another group of kids arrives, and some of them are deaf. I’m busy for the next hour, just trying to translate for them all. The time flies, and it’s later than I thought it was. “Gonzo, you’re going to turn into a marshmallow if you eat one more,” I warn. Either that or he’s going to be sick.
One more ? he asks, holding up one finger.
“If you get sick, I’m not cleaning it up,” I warn with a laugh. Reagan threads another marshmallow onto his stick. He refused to give it up, even when other kids were waiting to toast marshmallows. I didn’t have the heart to take it from him.
The rest of the kids have gone to bed. Gonzo is one of the oldest ones here. I see his mom walking up from the shadows. She came to check on him after the half hour was up, but he was having so much fun that I sent her away for a little longer. Her hair is now down, and her face is soft. She has her hands stuffed in her pockets. It’s getting chilly out. “You about ready for bed, Karl?” she asks.
G-O-N-Z-O , he signs. I laugh and shake my head.
“Oh, it’s Gonzo now, is it?” She punches her hands into her hips. “You have a perfectly good name. I don’t know why you would want to be called that.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Dude, that was our secret.” I sign to him. You’re not supposed to tell your mother everything . I hold up my hands as though to say, what the heck . I know full well that his mother knows sign language.
He laughs. Thank you for tonight. He looks directly into my eyes. He’s kind of jumpy the rest of the time, but right now, he’s telling me something without even using words or sign language, and he’s so still and serious.
I look at Reagan. “He said thank you for