by Laura Burton
“Well, tomorrow could bring problems,” he said. “It’s Virginia’s birthday. But I won’t be sending her flowers.”
“You mean … you were the person who sent flowers to Tanya and then me?”
He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Oops. I’ve been caught,” he said cheerfully.
“That was such a kind gesture,” she said. “I really enjoyed those flowers. But it nearly killed me not knowing who sent them!”
Pat grinned. “A little bit of mystery does the soul good,” he said. “Besides, it was fun trying to watch you figure it out.”
“You rascal!” she exclaimed, but she was laughing. With Pat around, life would never be dull.
Chapter 10
“Well, that was a short day,” Pat announced, coming into the clinic a few days later. “This afternoon’s surgery got cancelled because they needed the theatre for an emergency surgery. So poor old Mr. Hardy has to wait to have his bottom fixed.”
“Will they be able to fit it in again soon?” Jennifer asked. Mr. Hardy had already been waiting for a long time.
“They said they’re hoping to fit it in by the end of the week. Even if we have to do it after hours, we’ll try to get him in,” Pat replied, dropping his things on the bench.
Jennifer winced. No matter how wonderful Pat was, she was certain she’d never become accustomed to his untidy habits. She kept telling herself to ignore it and loosen up, but it was hard to resist the impulse to clean up after him.
“But while I was at the hospital, something came up that might be a bit of fun,” Pat said.
“What’s that?” Virginia asked, walking up to the desk.
“The surgical ward is doing a fundraiser,” Pat replied. “They want us to get a team together and enter the giant pumpkin regatta in Goffstown.”
“Giant pumpkins? How do you race those?” Virginia asked.
“On the river,” Pat replied. “We buy them from the farmers, who hollow them out for us. Then we decorate them, jump in and paddle them down the river.”
“That sounds like fun,” Virginia said.
“We need someone to organize it,” Pat told her. “I don’t have time. But it would mean getting a team together and liaising with the organizers at both ends.”
“I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to do something for charity for a while. This sounds perfect!”
Over the next few days, Virginia managed to recruit four staff members to enter the giant pumpkin races. Most agreed that it would be fun; some, like Jennifer, harbored solid misgivings about a huge gourd conveying them safely to the nearest escape point. Virginia took on the project with contagious enthusiasm, convincing even the most hesitant gourd-riders that it was a worthy cause, even if she couldn’t convince them that it would be fun. Jennifer reluctantly agreed, secretly fearful of lurking river monsters and public humiliation. What if she fell out and had to be rescued? Or sat in her pumpkin and spun around in circles?
“Can I have this one, please?” Virginia asked, pointing to one of the giant pumpkins. The farmer wrote the name of their team on it. When she’d finished choosing their flotilla of gourds, she hung around to watch the farmer hollow them out. She was amazed at how much flesh he carved out of each one.
“What happens to the insides?” she asked.
“It will go to the cows or pigs,” he told her. “Don’t worry, it won’t get wasted.”
When he’d finally finished, he turned to her. “They’re all yours,” he said. “The area is secure, and you can start decorating them as soon as your team arrives.”
“That sounds perfect,” Virginia replied. “Thank you for your help.”
“That’s my pleasure,” the farmer replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another lot to do now. Race day keeps me busy.” He walked over to another group of pumpkins, where a couple of men had started work on removing the insides.
Virginia was left to her own devices. Certain that no one was going to bother her, she slipped the sharp knife from her pocket and checked the other pocket to make sure the glue was still there. This was going to be good.
When the rest of the team arrived an hour later, they set to work decorating their boats. Virginia directed traffic.
“I chose this one for Pat,” she said, pointing at a huge one that had been entered in the weigh-in the day before. “It’s the biggest.”
“This one is for Jennifer,” she continued, pointing at a more modest one. “Mine is a similar size. And Carl’s is over there. It’s about the same size as Pat’s.”
Jennifer looked at hers doubtfully but dutifully set to work decorating it to the theme of the festival. When she’d finished, she stood back to admire her handiwork. She’d painted the pumpkin red and added a smiley face.
“That will have to do,” she decided. “Creativity is not my strength.”
Pat came over to see how she was going.
“I’m finished,” she told him. “But I’m kind of worried about my mighty vessel.”
“Why?” asked Pat.
“Well, I think I would feel safer in a bigger one,” she replied. “This one is a funny shape and I’m worried it will take on water.”
Pat thought for a moment. “I can see your point,” he said. “But I think I could manage it. How about we swap, since you’re not confident?”
She smiled at him. “I would like that, Pat,” she said. Her heart skipped a beat as he gave her a look that said she would owe him a kiss later. “Thank you,” she added.
She really was grateful for his thoughtfulness; he was looking forward to the adventure, whereas she was doing her best not to think about the cold, dark water and what might happen if something went wrong.
Several hours later, the pumpkin boats were ready, and it was almost time to start the race. Jennifer looked at the crowds lining the banks of the Piscataquog River and packed onto the bridge. It was terrifying to think that all these people would be watching.
“This is crazy,” Carl told Pat. “I can see us sitting there spinning in circles!”
“I’ve been somewhere between crazy and mad my whole life,” Pat responded. “It should suit me perfectly!”
Carl chuckled. “If you say so. At least they have a rescue boat in case of humiliation and failure.”
“Failure? Never!” declared Pat. “The only failure is if you don’t have a good time.”
“Or get eaten by some voracious river animal,” Jennifer added.
“River animal? You mean something like a snapping turtle?”
Jennifer nodded fearfully.
“Oh, they won’t eat much,” Carl assured her. “Only a finger or toe, or maybe half a limb …”
“We’ll save you,” one of the organizers said, overhearing the conversation. “The boys in the boat will get you before you get eaten right up.”
“But you might be missing a few body parts by then,” added his friend. “It depends how quickly we can get to you.”
Jennifer’s eyes were wide. “Really?” she asked faintly.
The men burst out laughing. “We were joking with you,” one of them said. “The only real danger is wounded pride if you fall out.”
Jennifer looked relieved. “That’s good to know,” she said as Pat turned his head away to hide a grin.
“Time to get in,” someone shouted.
Jennifer pulled the red wig over her hair and donned her dog mask. The organizers helped her down the bank to where the boats were waiting.
“Which one is yours?” asked a man in waders.
She pointed to the black and white one that Pat had decorated. He pushed it towards her, and the man on the bank helped her into the huge, unwieldy vessel. She felt as if she almost disappeared inside it. Peering over the edge, she started to paddle towards the start line, turning in circles at first as she tried to figure out how to make it move. She discovered that there was an art to moving; lean forward and balance just right. It was hard work and she wondered how she would ever be able t
o make the finish line. She looked back to see Pat determinedly following in the craft she’d decorated. He was making good time, despite the pumpkin’s awkward shape. Jennifer pulled her pumpkin into line with the others, waiting for the start of the race.
Pat managed to get his boat into line beside Jennifer’s.
“All ready?” he asked, grinning at her to inspire confidence. She looked terrified.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she muttered.
While they waited for the start of the race, Pat experimented with the best way to balance in his odd-shaped gourd. He looked for Virginia and Carl, further down the line. They appeared to be doing fine and were chatting to the other competitors.
The starter siren sounded and Pat set off, doing his best to propel his awkward craft forwards. Too much paddle on one side sent him spinning sideways. Overcorrecting it on the other side sent him spinning in the other direction. He looked over at Jennifer. She was bravely making progress, her brow furrowed with concentration as she determinedly moved forwards.
Just as Pat started to get his pumpkin moving smoothly, he felt water swirling around his feet. His boat had sprung a leak! He looked down and could see a hole in the base of the pumpkin. A piece of pumpkin flesh bobbed about near his foot. He shoved his fist in the hole, which meant that he could no longer paddle. He could feel the hole around his hand; it felt smooth and round, which was odd. If the hull had developed a weak spot, wouldn’t it be jagged or rough?
It was a major dilemma. Pat tried kicking off his shoe and sticking his heel in the hole so he could keep paddling but it forced him into an awkward position and made it difficult to keep the pumpkin moving.
“Are you having trouble?” asked one of the rescuers, pulling up alongside him in a rubber dinghy.
“There’s a hole in the bottom,” Pat said. “I’m having trouble paddling and dealing with the hole.”
“That’s unusual,” said the man. “These things are strong. They don’t usually get holes in them. Do you want us to get you out?”
“No, I’ll stick it out as long as I can,” Pat decided.
“We’ll stay nearby, so just call us over if you need us,” the man replied.
“Thanks.”
Pat returned to the problem of stopping the leak, as well as movement. He pulled off his sock and stuffed it into the hole. It was a temporary fix, but he was hoping it would be enough to get him to the finish line.
At last, the finish line was in sight. He was in the last place; most of the other competitors had already reached safety and were climbing out. As he neared the finish line, the sock let go and a bubble of water started to fill the boat again. It rapidly sank lower in the river, and Pat felt cold water creeping up his legs. The men in the dinghy appeared and towed his stricken vessel to the side.
“What happened to you?” Virginia asked as he climbed out.
“My boat sprang a leak,” he said.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” she replied. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have swapped with Jennifer.”
“Then she’d be cold and wet,” Pat replied evenly. “I don’t mind. I was able to handle it.”
Virginia’s lips tightened into a thin line and she turned away without saying anything. Pat found himself wishing that she wasn’t so prickly. And that she’d get along with Jennifer. He sighed and waited for the crew to haul his craft out of the river. Virginia was bound to be displeased when she discovered that he and Jennifer were dating.
“Here’s the problem one,” said the man who’d hauled it from the river. “You might be able to see why it got a hole in the bottom.”
Pat examined the giant gourd. The bottom was thick and sturdy. There was no reason it should have sprung a leak. He looked closely at the hole. It was neat, rounded … almost … surgical. He was certain it had been cut with a knife. A very sharp, strong knife. This was no accident; someone had cut a hole in the bottom of this gourd intentionally, knowing that it would sink on whoever was in it.
What had Virginia just said? That he shouldn’t have swapped with Jennifer?
Chapter 11
“Hey, do you know why ducks have feathers?” Pat asked as they all gathered for a staff meeting the day after the giant pumpkin regatta.
Belinda groaned. “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell us,” she said.
“To cover their butt quacks,” Pat replied triumphantly.
Jennifer laughed despite herself. “That joke is so terrible that it made me laugh,” she said.
Pat grinned at her. “Getting to like the water, are you?”
She wrinkled up her nose at him. “Well, I did make it to the finish line yesterday in my giant pumpkin,” she told him. “I didn’t fall out, nor did my mighty ship spring a leak. AND I came sixth!”
“That was a magnificent effort,” Pat conceded.
“What about me?” Carl spoke up. “I didn’t let the team down either!”
“Nor did I,” asserted Virginia.
“Only one person did,” Carl said with a grin. “And it wasn’t any of us!”
Pat lowered his head and tried to look ashamed. “I didn’t fall out,” he said, and everyone laughed.
“But did you need rescuing?” Carl needled.
Everyone nodded.
“I made it to the end,” Pat defended himself.
“You did have the honor of being last,” Carl reminded him.
“Well, someone had to do it,” Pat replied. “Just think, my heroism saved you from that fate!”
“You provided us with great entertainment,” Belinda said. “We were standing on the bank taking guesses at how long it would take you to sink. Tanya was the closest.”
“Some friends you are!” Pat exclaimed, trying not to laugh. “Who needs enemies with friends like that?”
“Thousands of people were lined up waiting to see you go down,” Janet said with a giggle.
“Were you going to do the noble thing, and go down with your ship, or were you going to bail out?” asked Tanya.
“I’m slightly allergic to drowning,” Pat said. “You figure it out.”
“You’ll be famous now as the only person in the regatta who almost drowned inside their pumpkin,” teased Belinda.
“Well, my sock couldn’t keep the river out,” Pat replied.
“How did your boat get a hole in the bottom of it?” asked Jennifer. “Those pumpkins are pretty tough. Not the kind of thing to suddenly spring a leak for no reason.”
Pat reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package. He unwrapped it to reveal a neat round core of pumpkin flesh.
“This popped out when we first started the race,” he said, passing it to Belinda, who passed it around the circle. “You tell me how that came to be missing from my pumpkin.”
“Someone cut it,” Carl announced. “It’s been done with a very sharp knife.”
“That’s what I thought,” Pat agreed. “I’m guessing that it was sitting in there like a plug until the water pressure pushed it out.”
“It feels tacky,” Tanya said. “Does it have glue on it?”
“It possibly had water-soluble glue on it that lasted just long enough to get the race started. Then the glue let go and I almost lost my eye to a chunk of flying gourd.”
“We have a saboteur in our midst,” declared Janet in lugubrious tones.
Everyone laughed.
“It was probably someone at the festival,” Virginia said.
“The pumpkins were kept in an area that was not open to the public,” Carl said. “The farmers wouldn’t sabotage a pumpkin. They have no reason to; it would hurt the reputation of the festival. So, it wasn’t a farmer and the public didn’t have access to it,” he concluded.
“What about the other competitors?” asked Tanya.
“Until we arrived and chose our own gourds, no one knew which ones would be used,” Jennifer said. “So, they weren’t even hollowed out until we got there.”
Everyone looked at Virginia. She looked uncom
fortable.
“This is not a witch hunt,” Pat said kindly. “But we’d like to know why someone would sabotage the race for one of our team members.”
“It was me,” Virginia spoke up suddenly. “And I’m not sorry, either,” she added defiantly.
Everyone gasped, but Virginia wasn’t finished.
“I’m sorry you got that pumpkin, Pat,” she said. “It wasn’t intended for you.”
“And here I thought my ex-wife was trying to finish me off,” Pat quipped, trying to lighten the tense mood in the room.
Virginia smiled a faint smile. “Hardly,” she said. She rose from her chair and left the room. Pat followed her.
Silence descended as everyone looked at each other. It was the most awkward moment Jennifer could ever remember.
Out in the hallway, Pat caught up with Virginia.
“Leave me alone,” she sniffed, dabbing at her eyes.
“I just want to know why,” he said. “Why did you do something that could have harmed someone?”
“I wanted Jennifer to pay,” Virginia said hotly.
“Why?”
“Because she has everything I want,” Virginia said. “She doesn’t deserve it.”
“What does she have?”
“You,” Virginia choked out. “Don’t deny it. I can tell by the way you look at her. It’s not fair.”
“You had me once,” Pat reminded her. “Then you didn’t want me. You wanted Mr. Muscles instead.”
Virginia waved her hand dismissively. “That was a mistake,” she said.
“A mistake that broke my heart,” Pat told her seriously. “It took a long time to get over it.”
Virginia looked at him with tears quivering on her lashes. “So, there’s no hope for us, then?”
Pat shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said sadly. “Once upon a time I would’ve said yes, but I have a new life now, and I’d never be able to trust you again. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us, and it wouldn’t work. Besides, you’ve never even said sorry.”
Virginia glared at him. “Well, sorry won’t get me anywhere, will it,” she said tartly. “It won’t bring back the life I had before, so what’s the point?”
