"Okay, that's it," Len said, a determined expression on his face. "I've had enough of this. No more." He got up and went to the window, throwing it open in an attempt to get some air into the sweltering apartment. "We really need to get a fan."
"We have a fan," Kit said. He was holding it in his hand. "I think it's your turn, anyway." He passed it over.
"Thanks," said Len, who held the tiny device dangerously close to his face. Even so, it didn't seem to be doing much good. "How can it still be eighty degrees at ten o'clock at night?"
"I don't know. Global warming?"
Len had never been in heat like this in his life. It wasn't just the heat, it was the humidity, which sucked the life right out of him. Having the window open did nothing but bring more of the heat inside, since the air outside wasn't moving at all. It was laying there like a dead body on the street.
Where did that come from? Len wondered. Guess I'm watching too many crime shows. He shook his head to clear it, and fanned himself some more. The little fan wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"I know we had a fan here last year," Kit said. "I just don't know what Dad did with it when he put it away. I'll check in the--" There was a loud crash in the next room.
"What was that?"
"I don't know. I'll go find out." Kit went to check. Lying on the floor of the bedroom closet was the fan, which had fallen off the shelf, its cord stretched out behind it in a tangled clump.
Please let it be okay, Kit prayed, plugging it in to test it. It sputtered to life, blew cool air for about thirty seconds, then died with a bang and a cloud of black smoke.
"Great," Len said. "What do we do now?"
"Find an iceberg and tow it to the door?"
"One: we don't have a tow line. Two: we don't have a boat. Three: by the time we got up to the Arctic Circle and back again, it would be winter already."
"Ooh, winter," Kit said with a delightful shiver.
"Well, we can't wait that long." Len bent down and looked at the still-smoking appliance. "I think I can fix this."
"Could you?"
"Yeah. A motor's a motor, right? Where do you keep your tools?"
"Over on the work bench. Tell me what you need and I'll go get it."
"A screwdriver, to start with."
"Okay. Flat head or Phillips?"
He took a good look at the back of the fan. "Looks like flat will be okay."
"Okay, then." Kit went and poked around the work bench until he found a flat head screwdriver of the proper size. Just to be safe, he brought a couple extras.
"Thanks." With that, Len set to work taking the rear grill off the fan and examining the tiny motor. "I think I see the problem right here," he said, holding up a wire which had been frayed to the point of breaking. "We'll have to replace it. Do you have a flashlight?"
"In the drawer by the stove."
"Which one?"
"The one with the missing handle and the scratch across the face."
"Left or right?"
"Dude," Kit said, rolling his eyes. "How many drawers are there next to the stove with a scratch and a missing handle?"
"Right. Sorry. Still not used to this place." He wondered if he would ever know the apartment well enough to consider it home.
The flashlight was in the drawer, all right . . . but the batteries were dead. Whoever had used it last (and Kit realized with a twinge of guilt that it had probably been him) hadn't switched it off before putting it away.
"Looks like we need batteries, too."
"I'll put it on the shopping list," Kit said. "Guess we're going to the hardware store tomorrow."
"The question is, how do we get through tonight?"
"I don't know." The heat was so oppressive that it seemed like a living thing. Sleeping would be next to impossible, without some cool air blowing around. They needed to find another fan, or something--otherwise it was going to be a long night.
"Does it ever get hot like this on Ventara?" Kit asked.
"No, never. And the training school was climate-controlled, so it was always the same temperature." Then he remembered something. "Except once."
"What happened?"
"Something blew in the environmental controls, and it went up to nearly ninety. In December. We sat around and griped about it until they told us it couldn't be fixed for a few days, and then . . . we got creative."
"Creative? How?"
"We had a beach party."
**********
The Fabulous Indoor Christmas Beach Party had been the idea of a boy named Corrin, who had grown up in the desert and hadn't ever seen a beach, or even a single drop of rain, until he went away to school.
Corrin was only a year older than Adam, and the two of them had become fast friends at the beginning of the year. For Christmas break, they were planning a ski trip to the mountains, but that was still two weeks away.
So it was a big surprise when they woke up one morning to stifling heat in the dorms. All the thermostats were reading in the high eighties, and fiddling with them didn't do a thing to lower the temperature.
"Someone call Maintenance," said David, who had come out of his room in nothing but his boxers.
"They've been called already," said Jeremy. "They're working on it."
"And working on it means . . .?"
"The guy went down to the Environmental Control Station and started banging stuff. He said he'd let us know when he's finished."
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Kase, who was wearing a beach cover-up over her nightie, asked.
"It's too hot to do anything," Brandon moaned. "I hope they fix it soon."
"We all do," Len said. "But right now, there's nothing we can do about it. At least not until the morning."
"It is morning," said Jaden.
"I mean later. When we've all had some more sleep."
"Who can sleep? It's way too hot!" It was practically ninety degrees in the dorm now, and if the environmental controls didn't get fixed soon, it was only going to get hotter. Everybody was grumbling and groaning about being hot and not being able to do anything about it.
Everybody, that is, except Corrin.
Corrin was just as hot as everyone else, but at least he was staying positive about it. While everyone else was too busy being miserable about the heat, he was thinking of things they could do to make the most of it.
One of his first ideas was to fill the pool with water and then dump a few million ice cubes into it. But that many ice cubes would be hard to come by, not to mention the problem of how to get them into the building, and he went to plan two: why not have a beach day? So what if it was December? They could have some pool floats and put up tiki torches and maybe even all wear Hawaiian shirts or something, to get into the spirit.
Corrin was definitely the kind of person who, handed lemons, would immediately start building a lemonade stand. His friends, however, were not quite as enthusiastic.
"How the fraz are we gonna get our hands on a wave generator?" David asked, toweling the sweat from his face once again. "And the tropical fish? You want how many?"
"Won't aquarium fish die in chlorinated water?" asked Jeremy.
"We could empty the pool," Corrin said, bouncing around in his enthusiasm, "and fill it with fresh water. Or ocean water, if we can get it."
"And how much will that cost?"
"Uh . . ."
"Corrin, you've never been to a beach in your life!" said Brandon. "What makes you the one to plan the perfect beach party?"
"Yeah," said Jaden. "What he said!"
Not far away, Donnie and Lee Tuan were watching the proceedings from a distance. They exchanged occasional comments, but as they only spoke Korean and only to each other, no one else understood them. It was clear, though, from their expressions and body language, that they didn't think much of the beach party idea.
"I think you might be on to something," Len said, trying to keep the peace, "but maybe you should scale it back a bit. I like the pool party idea, but maybe we can do it without the tropical fish and the wave generator. Maybe set up a volleyball net in the gym?"
Corrin's eyes sparkled. "Can we truck in some sand and spread it around on the floor?"
"Don't get carried away."
***
Before long, the word had spread to the entire school, and everyone was excited. They started to make calls to arrange for deliveries of pizza and drinks and stuff, while Corrin got the beach balls and towels and water toys. Everybody was so busy with the party planning that they forgot about the oppressive heat and the fact that Maintenance still hadn't fixed the environmental systems. In the end, even the Tuan brothers were swept up in the party excitement, and they helped with some of the setting up. They may not have spoken any English, but they understood it well enough.
By six o'clock that evening, everything was well underway. The gym was a wonderland of fake palm trees, beach blankets, umbrellas, and even a horseshoe-shaped bar at the edge of the fake sand. They weren't able to get the fake torches to stand up, but the strings of lights overhead more than made up for it. It was even better when the sun went down and there were just enough lights on to make the water glow like thousands of tiny diamonds were floating just under the surface. The kids had fun splashing each other and bouncing beach balls off the ceiling, the walls, and even the backs of each other's heads. Nobody seemed to mind.
Then they brought in the karaoke machine.
There's a reason that karaoke is mainly performed in bars; you have to be good and drunk to appreciate it properly. As the kids were all under the legal drinking age, the singing was less than perfect, but their enthusiasm made up for it. Mostly.
At the end of the night, Corrin took the mike and announced, "Okay, everybody, it's time for the big group singalong! The only way to end a proper beach party is with 'Surf Party Forever,' and for that we need eeevvveryone! Come on up here!"
At first, only two or three people were brave enough to join him in the song. But the mood was so jubilant that after a while, everyone started singing along. By the time the song was over, they were all huddled together, singing an endless final chorus. No one wanted to be the one to end the perfect night.
And then Adam said, "Hey, it's getting cooler in here."
"It is cooler," said Len. "I guess they fixed Environmental."
Corrin grabbed the mike. "Attention, lady and gentlemen: the heat is off! The controls have been fixed! Let's have a big round of applause for the good folks in Maintenance!"
The kids all broke out into spontaneous cheers.
"Thank you all for coming! We could use a couple of volunteers to help with the cleanup. Who's with me?"
"Why can't we just do it in the morning?" asked David.
"Cause in the morning, we'll be too tired! Now come on! I need about . . ." He looked around the room at the various jobs that needed to be done. "Six or seven people. Don't make me call you by name."
No one moved.
"I'll get out the 'Copacabana' tape!"
That did the trick. Anything was better than having to listen to Corrin murder "Copacabana". The kids worked hard to restore the gym to its former state in no time. Corrin stood by and supervised, offering words of encouragement and helping to sweep up the last of the debris. After two hours, he proclaimed the job finished, and they happily called it a night.
**********
"Okay," Kit said, wiping sweat from his face yet again. "Was there a point to that story, other than that karaoke can be used as a weapon?"
Len smiled at that. "There is a point. While everyone else was complaining about the heat, Corrin decided to do something positive about it. Something good can be made out of any bad situation."
"Yeah, but . . . we don't have a swimming pool or a volleyball net or any of that stuff."
"We can get the beach chairs out of the storage closet. Put on the Beach Boys and make some tropical punch. It's better than sitting here whining about things we can't change."
"I guess you're right. I don't know if we have any punch, but there's some packets of iced tea in the cabinet by the stove. We can sit and drink it in front of the TV. While I think of it. I'm pretty sure there's a squirt gun or two hidden away in one of the closets."
"Squirt guns indoors? Isn't that . . . messy?"
"It's just water. It'll dry. Come on, tap your inner Corrin and live a little! We'll have some pizza and play some games and just have fun! It was your idea in the first place!"
"I never said anything about squirt guns."
"We need something to keep cool! Now are you in or what?"
Finally Len gave in. "You get the squirt guns," he said, "I'll order the pizza."
"All right!"
It wasn't much of a party, as parties go. Two guys sitting in front of a "Magnum, P.I." marathon, drinking iced tea and eating pizza, isn't exactly the stuff of legends. But they had a good time. They even squirted each other when it got too hot. The point was the distraction, and there were enough distractions to keep both of them occupied until almost one o'clock in the morning. They were so tired that, in spite of the heat, they fell asleep where they sat.
Corrin would have been proud.