Shaved

by Gina LaManna

  “No, I didn’t,” I said. “I’m cutting back on sugar, remember? Setting a good example and all that.”

  “She’s not lying,” Meg said, straightening her shoulders and taking a step closer. When she reached my side, she leaned over and took a sniff of my breath. “That’s not cake.”

  “Back off,” I said. “Only Anthony is allowed to sniff me.”

  “That’s shaved ice,” Meg said confidently. “She went to the Ice Palace two blocks from the beach and had a Hawaiian Delight and a Blueberry Freeze and a Coconut Blaster—all of them with snow caps.”

  “Obviously they had snow caps.” I could only blink at her. “But how can you tell?”

  “Skills,” she said, then turned to face Anthony. “Get up lazy bones. Time for a hike. We’re going to find my groom.”

  “How did Meg get in here anyway?” I asked Anthony.

  “She confiscated a room key from one of us.” Anthony looked glum. “She was standing over me when I woke.”

  “I have a habit of doing that,” Meg said fondly. “People tell me I have no spatial awareness.”

  He expelled a huge breath and muttered something that sounded like, “Obviously.”

  “Well, I suppose we should get ready,” I said. “Plan’s still on?”

  “Seeing as I can’t marry myself,” Meg said, “I’m gonna go with an affirmative.”

  The previous evening after the questioning in the freezer, I’d herded Meg and Anthony together in a powwow to debrief. I’d filled them in quickly on the details I’d learned from Sam, and together, we’d formulated a grand plan to rescue Clay using Sam’s partially believable map.

  The plan wasn’t really all that glamorous. It called for bringing in Nora, who would be tickled pink to have a few hours alone with her great-granddaughter while Anthony, Meg, and I stomped up a mountain at the end of a road. Our plan wasn’t exactly scientific, but it was the best we could muster on short notice.

  Anthony remained adamant that if more than one guard was at the location upon arrival, or if we saw any signs of a trap, we would pull the plug and reconvene at the hotel. Since Anthony was pretty much the brawn and the brains of the operation, Meg and I didn’t really have a choice but to agree.

  “Well?!” Meg prompted, looking at the two of us expectantly. “Get going, lovebirds. You’ll need to get dressed. You’re not wearing that, are you?”

  Meg gestured toward my flowery sundress. I stared back at her sleeveless camouflage vest and her matching camouflage short-shorts. It was all very distracting.

  “I have extra clothes if you want,” Meg offered. “You and I can match. Bella too, actually, if you think she can handle this much greatness.”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said quickly. “That’s too much greatness for either of us to handle. Why don’t you head downstairs and pack some snacks? Anthony and I will get changed and meet you down there in ten minutes.”

  “Don’t be late.” Meg cinched her backpack tighter and ignored the button popping off her tightly-strapped vest. “Over and out.”

  Anthony and I arrived downstairs at the ten-minute mark exactly. We’d successfully packed Bella off to Nora, who was very disappointed to discover it was nap time. There was a great possibility Nora would wake Bella before Anthony and I had cleared the hotel. The woman had no self-control when it came to her great-granddaughter.

  Meg spotted Anthony and I the second we stepped foot in the hotel lobby. She stood on the other end of the room near the buffet line with a backpack strapped to her shoulders that looked ready to burst at the seams. A banana dangled from one pouch. She had a sugar packet tucked behind her ear. I heard the crinkle of those tiny individual cereal boxes as she sauntered up next to us.

  “What are the chances we can get her to meet us in the car?” Anthony asked. “All my credibility will be ruined if anyone sees me next to her.”

  Meg waved wildly as she approached. “Hi, guys!”

  “Say something,” Anthony muttered. “She’s drawing attention our way.”

  “How can she not?” I muttered, then grinned to Meg. “Howdy. I see you’ve stocked up.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Meg huffed and puffed. “I thought you didn’t see me for a second—I had to wave a few times.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s no possible way we could’ve missed you.”

  “Man, and here I thought this stuff was supposed to make me blend in.”

  “Blend in with what, exactly?”

  “Good point.” Meg covertly scanned the dining area. “It’s made for the wild outdoors, so I guess we can’t confirm or deny the camo’s effectiveness until we’ve tested it on our hike. Shall we head out? I don’t mind driving.”

  “I mind you driving,” Anthony said, dangling the keys out of Meg’s reach. “I’ll drive. That poor car has been through enough.”

  We made it through the parking lot while managing to attract the stares of every individual within eyesight of Meg’s vest. Anthony heaved a sigh of relief as we reached the car, urging us to pile in quickly before Meg’s location was recorded from the satellite orbiting Mars.

  The three of us piled in: Meg in the back, Anthony in the driver’s seat, and me next to him. Meg’s snacks took up the fourth seat. We set off on our journey to the end of the one-road island to the tune of Meg’s crinkling of cereal boxes and chomping of saltines. I squeezed Anthony’s hand in an effort to calm his blood pressure.

  “The end of the road is just up ahead,” Meg said, pointing toward where a beach sprawled over the end of the road. “We can probably park here and walk the rest of the way.”

  “It’s pretty,” I offered, watching the blue waves lap against the beach as Anthony surprisingly took Meg’s advice and pulled over to the side of the road. “Meg, why don’t you leave the backpack behind?”

  “I can’t,” she said. “I’ve got my snacks.”

  “You ate your snacks.”

  “I’m warning you,” Anthony said, “I’m not carrying it. If you get tired, it stays behind.”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll carry it. I need it for my parachutes.”

  I spun around in the front seat and glanced her way. “Why did you bring your parachutes?”

  “I always take a parachute when I’m in an airplane, I told you that. Those suckers never seem very safe.” Meg shrugged. “And I brought it with today because I might fall off the mountain. I don’t know how to dive, and I don’t think I’d survive a belly flop from this high up.”

  I sighed. “So, you have it on you right now?”

  “All four of them. I can’t use them unless they’re strapped to my back.”

  “Parachutes or not,” Anthony said, his eyes glittering as he surveyed us, “we’re cutting the cord on this plan and finding a new way in if we spot more than one guard. I’m not risking any of our lives to get Clay. We’ll come back with a good plan.”

  “Well, that’s sexist,” Meg said. “Clay needs help, too. Even if he is all big and strong and brave.”

  “The fact is, they need Clay alive,” Anthony said. “If they see we want him back, they’ll keep him alive even longer for bargaining power. It’s not him they want, or else he’d already be dead.”

  “You really know how to liven the mood, don’t you?” Meg said grumpily. “That’s my fiancé you’re talking about.”

  “Your fiancé that we’re going to rescue,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. “Come on, I think I see the path ahead.”

  We trooped the short distance between our parking spot and the beach, and as Sam had promised, there was a trail off to the left. Waves bounced and gurgled in the distance while mountains rose high on all sides and the sand prickled beneath our feet.

  Jagged peaks of deep green spanned as far as the eye could see, splattered with bright blue patches of sky behind. Flecks of pastels and pops of colorful flowers speckled the horizon so the landscape looked almost otherworldly in its vibrance.

  We
started down the path, and I had to admit I was feeling pretty good, so long as I focused on the feel of sunshine on my shoulders, and not the reality of what we might find at the end of our trek. It was a beautiful day for a hike with temperatures in the mid-seventies, and we weren’t the only ones who thought so. As we started down the path, it quickly filled with bustling tourists and happy hikers.

  Anthony, Meg, and I squeezed past an elderly couple and booked it upward, finding our footing as we steadily began to climb. Neither Meg nor I were in exceptional shape, which worked out quite well for us. Whenever the three of us voted to take a break, Meg and I always won because we outnumbered my nearly indestructible husband 2-1. Half an hour into the journey, we held our first successful vote for a break.

  “We can’t stop yet,” Anthony argued as I placed my butt firmly on a rock. “We’ve just begun.”

  I glanced up at the steep part of the incline we’d be tackling next and sighed. “Watch me.”

  I shifted to get more comfortable on the rock and reached for Meg’s water bottle.

  “Let’s see here...I’ve got a couple snacks that didn’t look too interesting to me,” Meg said thumbing through her bag. “I’m keeping the fruit snacks and pretzels, but the saltines are up for grabs.”

  I settled for the crackers while Anthony passed on everything, which was probably the smart move. But my three shaved ices weren’t exactly surplus energy reserves, and I needed fuel if we were going to make it more than thirty minutes on this stupid hike.

  “When you’ve finished with your snacks—if you can call them that,” Anthony said dryly, “we need to move.”

  After I polished off the crackers and Meg drank the salt at the bottom of her pretzel bag, I nodded toward Anthony. Meg shifted her backpack higher onto her shoulders as we began trekking further up the mountain.

  “Besides the parachute and stolen hotel food,” I asked, examining Meg’s bag, “what do you keep in there?”

  Meg struggled to breathe. “Oh, you know, the basics. Antiseptic lotion. My bikini.”

  “Why do you need a bikini?”

  “Well the bikini is obvious,” Meg said. “It’s hot as Hades up here. I plan on getting a tan.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t wear a bikini while hiking,” I said. “It’s not exactly like they hold everything in place—I mean, we’re not fifteen anymore. Things shift around.”

  “That’s why I’ve got the parachute,” Meg said. “To hold things in place in case I fall. We are hiking up a mountain if you haven’t noticed, and there’s a cliff right there. Want a demonstration?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Really,” she said. “I’d like to show you.”

  While I argued against the idea, Meg glanced at her chest and depressed a button on the strap. A huge parachute flew out of her backpack like a kite and appeared in the air behind her.

  “Whoa,” she said as the wind filled up the fabric and dragged her a few paces forward. “This is a powerful parachute.”

  “Put that thing away! It’s going to hurt someone.”

  A young, super-fit couple jumped out of the way as Meg dug in her heels and tried to stop. They glanced back, shooting us death stares.

  “Sorry,” I called after them. “Just testing out our supplies.”

  When I turned back from my apology, Meg had somehow blown ten feet further down the path. She leaned back with all her weight, but the wind this high on the path was strong and gusty and had no clue that it was dragging Meg toward potential death.

  “Check it out, Lace,” Meg said, throwing her arms out. “I’m surfing! Just, um, not sure how to stop.”

  “Eject!” I yelled. “Eject, Meg, or it’s going to take you over the edge!”

  “I can’t!” she said, digging in her shoes as they scraped and pulled the gravel. “I’m stuck in here!”

  I launched into a sprint and dove at her feet. I scraped up one knee, but I latched onto her ankles. While I managed to slow her down, my weight wasn’t enough to put a dent in her pace. The parachute thwacked against the wind and angrily clapped, taunting us with its ironclad grip.

  “Anthony!” I called. “A little help?”

  “Just let go, Lacey.”

  His advice seemed solid, but I couldn’t bear to let Meg fly alone. It was her wedding week. No bride deserved to go tumbling off the cliff before she said, “I do.”

  “Eject, Meg.” I tried one more time. “Or get out of the backpack!”

  Meg fumbled with something around her chest. Finally, she gave a yip of glee followed by a click, a hiss, and another whomp as the parachute detached from her straps and ballooned up, up, and away... drifting lazily over the edge of the cliff.

  “Oh, bugger,” Meg said. “One parachute down, three to go.”

  We watched with racing hearts as the fabric floated and spiraled down, crash landing in the waves. All that was left was a limp little pile of white on top of the ocean.

  “We should probably clean that up,” I said. “How do you suppose we go about doing that?”

  “I’ll call someone,” Anthony said crisply. “Now, can we go? We’ve got to keep moving or we won’t be back before dusk.”

  “It’s barely noon!”

  “Exactly.”

  “How about one more break? That was pretty stressful,” Meg said. “Plus, I think I have a smooshed Snickers in one of the pockets of my vest.”

  Anthony didn’t stop moving.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Meg said, “I suppose I can eat that Snickers on the go. Oh, and Lacey, you’re welcome.”

  “For what?”

  “The demonstration.” Meg said. “I’ve got three extra parachutes, so if you happen to want one, just say the word.”

  I patted her shoulder. “I will never want one of your parachutes, but thank you for the offer.”

  Meg brought out her Snickers and gave a nod of confirmation as she crunched into it. “No prob-llama.”

  It took us three snack breaks, one stop for the bathroom and two and a half hours to reach the split in the path that Sam had warned us about. The three of us stopped and stared at the fork in the road, and it took me a beat too long to realize they were waiting for my input.

  “I think we go to the right,” I ventured, “or was it the left?”

  “You didn’t bring the map?” Anthony practically glowered. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I thought I would remember, but now I don’t.” I said. “I didn’t think it was possible to forget something that important.”

  “But it is possible,” Meg said. “Ain’t that interesting?”

  “Not particularly,” Anthony said. “Where’s the map?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. I was in a bit of a rush this morning. Plus I thought I had it seared into my memory. The good news is we’ve got a fifty-fifty shot at guessing right. So, I vote we start left.” I shifted under their accusatory gazes. “Hey, guys—I never claimed to be the brains of this operation.”

  Thankfully, I guessed correctly. Twenty minutes down the abandoned path, we found the first guard. While that wasn’t a positive all on its own, at least we had an indication that we’d found the right place. There wouldn’t be a man standing around if he didn’t have cargo to guard.

  “We’re here,” I said, trying to stifle the hint of pride in my voice. “Looks like we’ve only got one guy.”

  “We have to make sure there aren’t others stationed around,” Anthony said. “We can’t make our move until we’re sure.”

  “This guy doesn’t look all that busy,” Meg noted. “I bet he’s alone.”

  Indeed, the guard didn’t look very busy at all. He sat at a small table placed in the middle of a clearing with trees surrounding him on all sides. The branches stretched tall, reaching over him to form a lightly knitted rooftop. Blips of sunlight passed between the shadows, leaving the space hot and humid, and somewhat claustrophobic.

  The table and chair set plunked in the middle of the clearing looked
like something kidnapped from an unsuspecting Grannie’s front porch in Louisiana. The guard looked cartoonishly big for the chair, and his thick arms rested on the wicker table before him as he thumbed through stacks of magazines and books.

  I squinted to read the title of his book. “How to Win Friends and Influence People?” I muttered. “An odd choice for a guy sitting in the middle of the wilderness... alone.”

  “He’s in the mob,” Meg said. “Winning friends and influencing people is the name of the game. I’ll bet you Carlos can recite that book forward and backward.”

  Anthony cleared his throat, trying to ignore the conversation.

  “No sign of additional guards,” I said. “I really don’t think Coco would station two people up here to do absolutely nothing.”

  “Let’s get moving, then. How are we going to do this?” Meg asked. “I vote we charge this dude. I’ll go first. Or better yet, Anthony, you go first. That way this guy can empty his bullets at you. When he’s out of ammunition, I’ll run up and tackle him.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like that plan.” I said. “We’re not using my husband as target practice.”

  “We need to find out if there’s more than one guard,” Anthony said. “That comes before talk of any plan.”

  “Just look at him for that answer. He’s so bored, he’s reading books,” Meg said. “Everyone knows you are only supposed to read books if you’re bored.”

  “That’s not at all true, but Meg does have a point,” I said. “I’m thinking this guy’s alone, but we still need a plan. Anthony, do you have any of those smoke bombs?”

  “Oh, Lacey.” Meg said. “I had to shower for forty-five minutes to get the stench off me. Let’s not get started with those again.”

  “We won’t be the ones getting smoke-bombed this time around,” I said. “We can toss it at him, catch our little bookworm off-guard, and then restrain him if needed. After that, we can leisurely examine the cabin.”

  “There might be another guard in the cabin,” Anthony said. “We haven’t seen where Clay’s hidden yet—there might be more layers than we expect. It’s dangerous to assume.”

  “We are going to have to take that risk,” I said. “We hiked all the way up here. There’s no way we’re leaving without Clay because my body can’t make this trek twice. It’s now or never.”