"Stay inside the truck!" a familiar voice yelled. Forgetting about my hair net, I rushed to join the crowd looking out the window. It was just what I was afraid of—DC was out there. My heart jumped into my throat.
"Who's he talking to?" I asked Mom.
"Probably the driver of the truck," Mom said.
"Why can't the driver get out?" Jennifer asked.
"He might get electrocuted," Mom said. "They only recommend getting out of a vehicle that's made contact with a power line if the car is on fire."
I peeked out the window. It didn't look like the car was on fire.
Wenling nodded. "And then you have to jump clear without touching the vehicle while you get out and try to land flat on both feet and then walk slowly away from the downed wire like this." Wenling jumped and then took small shuffling steps to demonstrate.
"That looks like my poop walk," Mom said, referring to her adult diaper commercial. It did look a lot like Mom in the commercial in the "before" scene on the bus, but I wanted to get back to the topic at hand. "So if he jumps without touching the car and shuffles away, he'll be fine."
Mom shook her head no. "It just makes it less likely it'll happen. Electricity can sort of jump sometimes. That's why he's safer staying in the car. They need to turn off the electricity."
Jennifer and I traded looks. How did our Moms know this stuff? I vowed to pay closer attention to the crime and disaster shows they watched while gossiping and folding wontons at our booth.
My thoughts turned back to DC out there with the live wire. "When you say that electricity can jump, does that mean some people standing out there could be in danger?" I asked Mom.
Mom ignored my question, which I knew meant that she didn't want me to worry. So I worried.
"I hear a siren. It's probably the fire department," Mom said.
"Can they turn off the electricity?" I asked.
"They're probably already talking to the electric company," Mom said.
Mom was right. Two fire trucks arrived.
I wished there was something we could do, but all we could do was wait and hope.
The Lucky Dragon grew hot without the air-conditioning. We made sure everyone had water and sliced up a cake to help ease the boredom.
Jennifer and the chef had put as much food as they could into the freezers.
"I wish we could at least leave the restaurant to go next door," Wenling said.
We all looked over to see what Wenling was talking about.
"Their ice cream is probably melting," she explained.
"So am I," I said.
"Someone's coming," Jennifer said, pointing out the window.
I looked over, and even though the sun's position made the figure appear only in shadow, I could tell by his big-energy walk that it was DC.
I rushed to the door, eager to see he was okay.
"DC!" Mom said as he entered the restaurant.
I gave him a big hug. I'm normally shy when it comes to public displays of affection, but I was just so glad to see him.
"I was on my way to see you when I heard the call," DC said.
"You shouldn't have come. You could've been electrocuted," I said.
"I came to make sure that you were okay," he said and gave me a kiss on the top of the head.
It was a sweet sentiment, but I still wasn't happy to see that he was in danger. I'd always known he had a dangerous job, but this was the first time the danger seemed real.
"Is it safe to go outside now?" one of the restaurant customers asked DC.
"Yes, but stay out of the barricaded area and don't wander around. Go directly to your car and leave the area," he said.
"When is the electricity going to be back?" Wenling asked.
"That's up to the power company, but it doesn't look like it'll be anytime soon," he said.
"Between the power and the street being closed looks like we ought to call it a day," Wenling said to Jennifer.
Chef Li stuck his head out of the kitchen and jingled his keys. He'd already changed out of his chef coat.
"Yes, you can go," Wenling said, and he ducked back into the kitchen. I figured he'd leave out the back.
"Rumor has it there might be a sale on ice cream next door," DC said to me. "Maybe we can get some to go."
I smiled, and he motioned for me to lead the way.
Most of the restaurant patrons and Mom were on the sidewalk. I assumed they were looking at the damage from the accident. But once I stepped outside, I heard shouting.
Wayne, the greasy-haired owner from the carnival company, was in an argument with a large, blonde woman. Between her Southern accent and boiling rage, it took me a moment to figure out what she was saying.
"You shouldn't have let go of Austin!" she screamed.
"You're in charge of the logistics of the move-in!" he yelled.
"That's right," she yelled back. "So if I'm in charge then why on earth did you fire Austin and hire this nincompoop that we've never worked with before?"
"Don't try to dodge your responsibility!" he yelled.
"Don't try to dodge your boneheaded decision hiring that driver that darn near killed himself and half this town."
"They should've cleared these power lines before we got here," Wayne said.
Al stormed over to Wayne. "We're not paying for the rental of this equipment today, and you're not dodging responsibility for this."
"That's right. You're the one who's going to be held responsible if we're sued!" the woman yelled and took two steps closer to get right in Wayne's face.
"Now you don't want half the company, do you?" he yelled back, pushing his chest right against hers.
I'd been so consumed with the drama unfolding that I hadn't realized that DC had left my side until I saw him step up to the feuding man and woman. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but everyone quieted down.
A police car arrived on the scene. DC looked like he recognized the officers and waved them over.
"Christy!" DC called over to me. "I'll call you a little later. I might be a while."
The police officers and the power workers shooed everyone away from Main Street. I turned around and saw the closed sign in the ice cream shop window.
"Guess it's time to go home," Wenling said.
"Don't worry, kid," Mom said. "I'll call around when we get home and find out what's happening."
Mom, Dar, and I sat at the kitchen table snacking and talking. Moriarty, our tuxedo cat, was curled up in Mom's lap.
"It happened almost right in front of our place. I was worried the pole was going to fall onto the diner," Dar said.
"So it was the driver hitting the electric pole and not the Ferris wheel hitting the line?" Mom asked. "I thought I saw that Ferris wheel make contact with the wire and fall down."
"It was both!" Dar said. "I was sitting at the front of the store doing the schedule for next week since it was so slow with Main Street being closed, and I saw that huge wheel sticking out of the truck. And I was like, 'that can't be good.'"
"I thought the same thing," Mom interrupted.
Dar-Dar nodded. "I even called Jenna over, but before she even got from behind the counter I heard this major boom, and I saw the sparks and smoke. Then I heard a little crash and see that the truck hit the pole. Maybe the noise startled the driver or he got a shock and hit the gas."
"That's pretty much what we saw, but you had a closer look," Mom said.
Mom's phone rang. It was on the counter next to her purse. Moriarty's ears went back. "Can you get that for me, kid? He doesn't want to get up," Mom said, motioning to Moriarty.
I snagged the phone and handed it to Mom. The caller ID showed it was Wenling, which was unusual. Wenling typically texted unless there was some really juicy gossip that couldn't wait.
Mom answered the phone and listened. She pushed Moriarty out of her lap and got up. "We gotta turn the TV to Channel 4. Al is on the news."
The three of us rushed into the living room. I gra
bbed the remote and turned on Channel 4. The news was covering the power outage.
"I can't believe they made us leave," Dar said. "We could have been on the news. I saw everything!"
"I've been on television enough," Mom said. "Turn it up."
I did.
"But I always miss it. If there's an accident or a fire or something, promise you'll call me so I can be on," Dar said. And then he turned to me. "Or if the news comes to cover another dead body. You have to get me."
"The news is never there," I said.
"Well, if there's not television crew or reporters, I don't really want to see the dead body," Dar said. "It sounds kind of gross."
I was going to answer, but Mom shushed us.
We listened while Al told the camera crew how Wayne from the carnival company fired their more experienced crew and hired some cheaper crew, and he believed that's what led to the accident.
"We did hear that blonde lady screaming something like that," I said.
"I couldn't understand what she was saying," Dar said. "I had customers come in."
Mom turned to Dar. "How did you wait on them with no electricity?"
"We still had the brewed coffee that are in those big thermoses," Dar said.
"Ah," Mom said, and returned to watching TV.
A worker from the electric company stated they would be working through the night to restore the power to Main Street and then the blonde woman from the carnival company was interviewed.
She described the accident as "unfortunate" but said that residents should not worry, because the Fletcher Fair would not be delayed. She said the company would have all hands on deck tomorrow to make sure that the fair began on time.
"That's good," Mom said.
"But we were supposed to start our marshmallows at the restaurant today and finish the rest tomorrow," I reminded Mom. "Now we'll only have from whenever the power comes on tomorrow."
"Can't we make some right now?" Dar asked.
"We need to make them in a commercial kitchen to be able to sell to the public," I said. That's why we always used the kitchen at the Lucky Dragon to do our baking. We had an oven there, and we used the kitchen after hours. Chef Li wasn't going to like us sharing the kitchen with him.
The reporter grilled the Southern blonde woman whose name I didn't catch. I was worried about making all the marshmallows in time.
"There's DC!" Mom said, pointing at the television.
"He looks good on TV," Dar said.
Mom agreed, but I shushed her this time. DC did look good, but I wanted to hear what was going on.
"We're here with the first officer on the scene, Detective DC Cooper. Sources tell me you're the one who told the driver not to get out of the vehicle. Why is that?"
DC looked uncomfortable to be on camera, and the svelte brunette reporter looked way too happy to be talking to DC. "Well, I'm sure someone from the fire department or the power company would be able to speak to this with more authority. But as a matter of general safety, when you're dealing with electricity unless your vehicle is on fire, citizens should not exit the vehicle, because they're at a greater risk for electrocution upon exiting." Then DC proceeded to say almost verbatim what Mom and Wenling said in the restaurant earlier.
"He's doing the poop walk!" Mom said as DC shuffled to demonstrate how to walk away from the vehicle after having jumped free. The reporter tried the walk as well, but there was something about the way she giggled while doing it that spiked my jealousy. I was about to chalk it up to my insecurity, but then Darwin said, "I don't like her."
"Me neither," Mom said. Had they picked up on the same flirty vibe I did? And why was DC still there after all this time? He said he was coming over to see me as soon as he was done. Did he stick around just for her?
"So tell me," she asked. "How is it that a detective came out to the scene of an accident?"
DC smiled and said, "I was coming to have lunch with my wife." And then shook his head. "I mean girlfriend."
"Does your wife know about your girlfriend?" the reporter joked.
For a quick second, I saw DC's agitated face. He did the same thing that he did with me when he had that look on his face: he quickly recovered and tried to look patient. "My girlfriend is my wife," he said.
The reporter gave him a questioning look. Even I was confused.
"I mean I accidentally called my girlfriend my wife," DC said. "She's my girlfriend."
"Oooh," Dar said. "Someone has a crush on you-ooooo."
The reporter turned back to the camera and said, "This is Winter Sanders reporting live from Fletcher Canyon with a little bit of breaking news for Fletcher Canyon fairgoers and one lucky girlfriend."
My heart pounced into my neck.
"Did he ask you to marry him and you didn't tell me?" Darwin asked.
"No," I said. "We've never even discussed getting married." Although after I said that, I did remember DC asking me about if I could see myself retiring in Fletcher Canyon and a few other remarks about the future. Was he thinking about marriage? Could I think about marriage this soon after my divorce?
"When you two get married, you're not allowed to elope like you did last time," Mom said.
"They eloped before?" Dar asked, confused.
"No. When I married Robert, we sneaked off to Vegas and got married," I said.
"Like with Elvis in one of those drive-throughs?" Dar asked.
"It wasn't even that classy," Mom said.
"Ouch," Dar said.
I couldn't even defend myself on that front, but I heard myself say, "Mom, DC and I are not getting married."
"So he asked you, and you turned him down? Because if that's the case, I don't think he understood that you turned him down," Darwin said.
"No," I said. "He hasn't asked me, and we haven't talked about it. And I don't know if I'm ready to get married."
"That's understandable, kid. But it looks like DC might be ready soon, and you really need to think about how that's going to work for the two of you."
A few minutes ago I was worried about how we were going to make enough marshmallows to be ready for the fair, and now I was worried I wouldn't be ready for my future.
A Dead Body and a Diner
Business at the Lucky Dragon had been slow, so Chef Li and Jennifer helped us make all the gourmet marshmallows and marshmallow pops. Fletcher Fair had opened on time, and so far people had loved the marshmallows. Mom and Wenling had gone back to the Lucky Dragon to cut the last few batches that had been left to harden.
"How's it going, kid?" Mom asked as she brought more marshmallows and marshmallow pops to me. "Is everything melting?"
"No, the shade from the awning is keeping the chocolate from melting on the pops, and it's still nice and cool so the marshmallows are holding up just fine."
"It's nice getting to see all the action," Mom said, handing me one of the trays. I unloaded it, and she handed me the next one. Wenling had two trays. I was surprised she could hold them still for so long, but she wasn't even paying attention to us. She was staring at the dunk tank.
"I don't think all of these are going to fit," I told Mom.
"I called Al to see if we could put some overflow in the diner," Mom said. "That way you could just go in there to restock instead of having to walk three blocks."
"I'll put them away now, if you'll watch the booth. I need a little break anyway," I said, taking the trays from Wenling.
"Okay," Mom said.
When I got back, Mom and Wenling were enraptured by the dunk tank.
"Why are they yelling at the people?" Mom asked.
"I guess it's to try and get them to pay the money," I said.
"Cool," Wenling said. "To get people to pay in the restaurant business you have to be nice. It's so boring."
"Let's go talk to the man at the booth," Mom said.
"Yeah," Wenling said, and the two of them went over there.
It was like Mom and Wenling to make friends wherever they went,
and I continued to sell marshmallows without thinking much about it. My mind drifted to things with DC. We'd been so busy with marshmallows, and he'd ended up working late on a case. He called to let me know that he couldn't come by the night before last, and we'd both been busy yesterday.
Our conversations on the telephone yesterday and today had been short, and I didn't mention that I'd seen him on the news.
I'd been relieved that we hadn't had time to talk, but I knew my luck wouldn't hold forever. What did I think about getting married?
We hadn't even exchanged "I love yous" yet. Sure, it was implied, and I think there were a few times when we both were about to say it, but that moment had never come.
"I want to go, too!" I heard Wenling yell.
My pontification ceased when I heard Wenling yell. Her voice had that high, excited sound that my mind had begun to correlate with trouble. That's when I spotted Mom wearing rubber shoes and crawling into the dunk tank, and Wenling climbing up the ladder after her.
I rushed from my booth over to the tank. "Mom you shouldn't be in there," I said.
"No, I told her it was okay," the supervisor of the tank told me. I turned and gave him a look.
"Do you think having two sixty-year-old women in that tank is a good idea?" I asked.
"They'll be fine," he said. "Your mother says she does her own stunts."
Sure she does, if you count lying as a stunt.
"Come try to knock us out," I heard Mom yell out to the crowd.
"No," Wenling said. "You have to insult them. Because they're stupid."
"Hey!" Mom yelled out to a man in the crowd. "Your shorts are ugly, and I'm protected by this cage unless you can knock me into the water!"
The man laughed and shook his head.
"Don't shake your head!" Mom yelled. "You'll scramble what little you have left of your brains!"
"Now wait just a minute," the man said.
"I think she hooked him," the dunk tank manager said to me.
"You don't know me at all," the man in the ugly shorts said to Mom.
"I know you enough to know that you're stupid enough to wear those shorts and not smart enough to hit the bullseye!"
Marshmallows and Murder Page 3
