An Ocean in Iowa by Peter Hedges Read Free Book Online

full of nervous kids and relieved parents zipped past that first day.
    Carole Staley rode in the front as her father, a banker, drove her to school. With her dishwater-blond hair and green eyes pressed to the glass, Carole Staley called out the names of the kids she knew. “That’s Lucy Titman. That’s Leann Callahan.”
    But when she saw Scotty Ocean walking with his sister and Tom Conway, she didn’t call out Scotty’s name. She pressed her face to the window glass, her lips especially, and the car passed him.
    “Carole, what are you doing?”
    She quickly faced front, her lips having left a wet mark on the car window.
    “Uhm,” Carole said. “I don’t know.”
    But she knew. Scotty Ocean had been her favorite boy in first grade. And now they would be in the same section in second grade. She had waited all summer for this day.
    ***
    It was in front of Cindy McCameron’s house that one of Scotty’s shoes came untied.
    “Maggie,” Scotty said.
    “What?”
    Scotty pointed to his untied shoe.
    “You do it yourself.”
    “Can’t. Don’t know how.”
    “Not my problem,” said Maggie and she walked on.
    “But…”
    “I’m not Mom,” Maggie snapped.
    Scotty stopped and waited. He wouldn’t budge.
    The McCamerons had a swimming pool in their backyard. The blue slide could be seen poking above the wooden fence. In the winter, a rubber bubble would be filled with air, “winterizing” the pool, and Cindy had pool parties to which boys were never invited.
    On certain breezy days, one could smell the chlorine from the water. On the hottest of days, one could hear kids splashing and playing from behind the fence. Sometimes neighbor kids would stand in the street and watch as little figures appeared at the top of the slide and then disappeared from view as they slid, a moment of nothingness until the inevitable splash and ensuing yelps.
    Scotty turned and saw that Maggie was two houses away. He stared down at his untied shoe.
    Tom Conway had waited. Tom said, “I can do it.”
    Knowing that Maggie wasn’t going to come back to help, Scotty sighed. “Okay, but fast.”
    Tom, his hands shaking, his face looking serious, started to tie Scotty’s shoe as best he could.
    Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Scotty froze when he heard it. He turned in time to see Andrew Crow approaching on his Schwinn five-speed, the playing cards rattling out his warning, on his way to West Glen Junior High.
    Tom Conway didn’t like Andrew Crow. “He’s creepy,” he would later say.
    Andrew coasted by, his hands behind his head. He looked over at Scotty and laughed, a cackle of sorts. Scotty looked down and saw Tom Conway making the final loop in his shoelace. Pulling away his foot, undoing all of Tom’s handiwork, Scotty said, “Forget it.”
    Andrew coasted down the street, finally disappearing with an upper body lean, turning his bike at Vine Street, using no hands to steer.
    And Scotty thought, I wish I could do that.
    “You ruined it,” Tom said meekly.
    “Tough,” said Scotty and they walked on, Scotty’s shoelace flailing with every other step.
    ***
    When Scotty arrived at his new classroom with Tom Conway tagging along, Mrs. Boyden was standing in the doorway, staring at her watch. She looked up and said, “Good morning, I’m Mrs. Boyden. Please hurry and take your seat.”
    Each desk had a name tag taped in front.
    Second grade meant each student got his own desk with a shelf. In first grade, four students shared a table. Third grade desks would have lids.
    Scotty found his desk quickly. It was the third desk in the third row—he was sitting smack in the middle. Scotty looked around. Most of the kids he knew. Dan Burkhett and Craig Hunt were seated nearby. In the far corner, Jimmy Lamson sat wearing a blue suit coat and a red tie.
    Scotty scanned the room. This is where he was to learn. In a far corner, near a large porcelain sink, a rack of hooks, waist high on adults, anticipated winter coats and scarves. In another