JULY 8, 1975Scenes from“They Come Out at Night” played in my head as Matt and I lugged the metal tub into the house. We’d waited all morning for Mom to leave for the lunch shift at the diner, hoping against hope she wouldn’t hear that thing sloshing around in the bathroom. Either that, or she’d figure out that we were waiting for her to leave, and that we must be up to something. Somehow, we got through it, and as soon as she left, we were in motion.Along with an oversized net, the tub was easy enough to pick up at the local fishing shop, once we’d filched the money from Mom’s not-so-secret hiding place where she kept her tips. The house next door had two or three young kids living there and their toys were always scattered all about the yard. We had our eye on the red wagon.The plan was to get the creature out of the bathtub with the net, dump it into the metal tub, and hide it in the backyard until dark. Then, we would put the tub on the wagon and lug it across the street
JULY 11-12, 1975The days of Matt’s wake and funeral were the worst of my young life. Worse than my father’s abuse. Worse than all the nights I listened to my mother hurt and crying. Worse than the time he threw me against the wall. Worse, even, than watching my father kill my brother.The police had found my brother’s body shortly after I’d told Officers Duffy and Gagnon what had happened. Since he’d only been in the water a short time, the wake was open-casket. Seeing my brother made up like a wax doll in a grotesque parody of sleep was an abomination. It made me angry, not sad.Leah came, hugged me, and said she was sorry, but she was distant, cool. Her father was not with her. Besides my mother, I felt the saddest for Kelly. She was devastated, as only a teenager losing her first love can be. She held me for a long time in the receiving line, shuddering uncontrollably. Mary showed up after Leah and Kelly, and stayed by my side. Everything had changed between the four us, but I d
SEPTEMBER 3, 1975The first dayof school had been on my mind for weeks. What kind of reception would I get as the new kid? Because I wasn’t just the average new kid, I was the new kid that had found skeletons on the beach. I was the new kid whose brother was murdered. I was the new kid that had killed his own father.I walked into homeroom, hoping to see a friendly face or two from my days at the beach, but life isn’t always that kind. Sure, I recognized kids I’d seen around town or in passing at the beach, but nobody from the gang I’d gotten to know.Mrs. Caldwell walked in and began roll call. She paused briefly at my name, and I felt the questioning eyes of a few kids, but that was all. The rest of the day was more of the same. Some curiosity, but no cringing or hostility. I sat with Mary and a few other kids from the beach at lunch. We talked about classes and teachers and how we wished summer wasn’t over, normal stuff.I walked Mary home after school and asked her if she
JUNE 25, 1975“This is it?”Matt asked.Mom gave a harried sigh. “It doesn’t look like much from the outside,” she said, far too cheerily if you ask me, “but wait until you get in before you judge.”My brother mumbled something and pushed open the passenger-side door, groaning as he stretched.Drama queen, I thought. I scrambled out of the back seat, and the cool sea breeze hit me. It smelled salty and fishy—and I loved it. On the enthusiasm meter, I was way closer to Mom than to Matt.“What are we even going to do here?” He picked up a rock and tossed it lazily toward the beach.“Are you kidding?” I cried, “the house is practically right on the water!”“Yeah,” Matt said with a glare, “and we don’t know a single person, dildo.”“Matt! Watch your language.”He shrugged and shuffled toward the beach. I followed, keeping my distance.“Take a quick look around, then come right back and help me unload,” Mom called.I waved to acknowledge her then jogged a few paces to catch
JUNE 26, 1975Iwoke tothe sounds of seagulls squawking and waves rolling up to the shore. I’d slept with the window open and the room smelled wonderfully salty. I bounded out of bed and leaned my head out to breathe in the sea air and look out at the beach—it was nearly empty save for a few older people taking their morning walk. I’d forgotten to plug in my alarm clock so I had no idea what time it was. With nothing better to do, I ambled down to the kitchen to see if anyone else was up.Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking, and drinking coffee. She gave me a weary smile.“Mornin’, champ. Sleep okay in the new room?”“It was great,” I replied, telling her about the sounds and smells I’d woken up to.Her face brightened. “That’s great. I think we’re going to be happy here.” Then her momentary brightness dimmed and I knew she was thinking about Matt.“He’ll come around,” I said. “Did you sleep okay?”She shrugged. “Pretty good, I think. It’s just .. 
JUNE 27, 1975Iwoke thenext morning feeling as though I’d never slept. I remembered waking up a few times from bad dreams, but had no memory of the dreams themselves. I moved to the window, my eyes still caked with sleep and feeling groggy. I wonder how Matt’s feeling, I thought, remembering how my dad always looked the day after. I opened the window wider than I’d left it overnight, letting the blast of cool sea air bring me fully awake. It was a picture-perfect day. The sky was a deep blue, unmarred by a single cloud. The ocean water near the shore looked greenish-blue, with the sun turning the whitecaps silvery as they crashed to the beach. Seagulls made a fuss over toward the marina, and a handful of sailboats dotted the ocean farther out, their colorful sails lending vivid contrast to the darker deep sea.I dressed quickly and ran downstairs, not bothering to check on my brother. Mom was in her seat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. We exchanged good mornings an
JUNE 28, 1975The next daydawned overcast and brooding. I sat by my bedroom window watching the endless crashing of the waves. Sometimes, when I thought about the never-ending cycle of the tides and how long they’d been doing their dance, it overwhelmed me. The sea looked gray and foreboding under the tumultuous skies. Even the gulls’ cries sounded frightened, unsure of what the gloomy day might bring.I hadn’t slept well after our family meeting at the kitchen table. Disquieting dreams plagued my night, though I couldn’t remember a single one. Instead of going down to scavenge breakfast, I grabbed the next issue of “They Come Out at Night” and flopped back onto my bed. The back cover was missing, leaving torn-off, jagged edges and exposing the advertisements on the last page of the comic.There were the usual ads for x-ray glasses and onion gum and joy buzzers and Charles Atlas, but one at the bottom caught my eye.SEA MONSTER PETS! HATCH THESE CREATURES IF YOU DARE!I’d se
JULY 2, 1975The next severaldays passed in a blur, but at the same time they seemed to last forever. Mom was working crazy hours at the diner with more and more summer people—“renters” as the townies called them—showing up every day. All the boarded-up cottages were showing signs of life. By the weekend, the town would be at full capacity. Mom’s schedule left me and my brother with the freedom to spend long days and some evenings on the beach with the rest of “the townies.” There were a few other year-rounders besides us, but not many. A number of the kids’ families owned the cottages as second homes. Others had long-term rentals, some were only there for a week at a time. Kelly’s father and Leah’s mother were brother and sister, and co-owned a massive cottage they’d winterized and converted to two separate units. Leah told me it had been her grandparents’ place, but they’d both passed away. On Wednesday, Mom had to cover both the lunch and dinner shifts. We’d been at the bea