“Nice touch,” I said.
Barry grinned.
“Summer truly has begun,” said Mom with a sigh. “Ben, tell Barry about what happened out on the boat today.”
I told the story of Brad and Nicki again, complete with all the gory details. Mom and Barry made a pretty good audience, with Mom shaking her head and tsk-tsking at some of Brad’s remarks, and Barry rolling his eyes in exasperation.
After I got to the part about the dope, Mom said, “Oh, speaking of that, the word around the office today was that Cameron Maddox—you know, the missing boy—”
I broke in to ask, “He hasn’t shown up yet?”
“No,” said Mom. “The police have reason to believe he was here on the island selling drugs and that his disappearance might be related to that. His parents claim that’s ridiculous, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out. Anyway, enough of these upsetting subjects. The fireworks are tonight. Who feels like going?”
Here goes, I thought. I took a deep breath and explained the plan.
“Oh, how nice of Chick to take you boys,” Mom said. “Barry, do you feel like going?”
“I will if you want to, Kate, but, to tell you the truth, the last thing I feel like doing is going back down-island and dealing with all that traffic.”
“That’s fine with me,” said Mom. “I’m pretty tired, and you know they never start the show until after ten o’clock. Ben, I’m sure Chick will bring you right home after, won’t he? He has to get up early, too.”
I nodded. Mom began clearing the table, and I jumped up to help. I couldn’t believe it had been that easy. And I didn’t even have to worry about Mom and Barry seeing me in town with Donny. When the dishes were done, I announced that I was going to Jeff’s to meet Chick.
“Okay, sweetie,” Mom said, giving me a kiss. “Have fun.”
Barry called good-bye from the living room. “Need money for junk food?” he asked.
“Nope,” I called back. “Thanks.”
Biking up the road, I felt like a real creep, lying to Mom and Barry that way. If only they had given me a hard time, I’d be able to feel more justified in deceiving them. But they’d been so nice, so trusting, so unsuspecting.
Have fun.
Need any money?
Geez.
I tried to shake off the guilty feeling and get psyched up for the evening ahead. It was going to be great, I told myself, well worth the cost of a harmless little lie.
Nine
When Donny pulled up to the corner where Jeff and I were waiting, music boomed from the Tomahawk’s open windows. Donny motioned for us to get in, and Jeff, with a smug glance in my direction, hopped into the front seat. I climbed into the back, where I could feel the rear speakers pounding in my ears and thumping in my chest.
Donny said something to Jeff that I couldn’t hear over the music. “What?” I shouted.
Donny turned down the volume a little bit. “I’ve got to make a stop on the way,” I heard him saying, “but we’ve got lots of time before the fireworks start. You know how they always drag it out, waiting for people to spend all their money on food and stuff.”
“No problem,” said Jeff. “Where’s Jen?”
I admired the easy way he asked the question, as if he and Donny and Jen were old buddies. I was feeling kind of tongue-tied, not wanting to say or do anything that would make Donny regret asking me to come along.
“Her family’s got company for the weekend, and she has to go to the fireworks with them. So this is boys’ night out,” Donny answered, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror and giving me his knowing grin.
We cruised down-island, not talking much after that. Well, Donny and Jeff said a few things to each other, but it was just about impossible to hear them over the music, which was still really loud, and after a while I gave up. Jeff turned to me a few times and smiled, looking happy and excited. I was pretty excited, too.
Donny turned off the main road near the airport, onto an unpaved road, then onto a smaller road that was little more than a narrow, sandy path. We bounced along, passing a few houses. Then for a while there was nothing but scrubby oak trees, beach plums, and giant poison ivy plants that brushed the sides of the Tomahawk. The road ended at a little house set off by itself in the dense undergrowth. There was a dilapidated old wooden boat up on blocks sitting in the yard, along with some car parts, a few busted-up lobster pots, a rusted chair, and a jumble of assorted tools and other junk.
Donny jumped out, leaving his door open and the radio on. He went around behind the Tomahawk and reached into the trunk. A skinny little guy with a long, greasy-looking gray ponytail appeared at the door of the house, glared at Jeff and me, and disappeared back inside. He looked vaguely familiar, and after a second I placed him: he was the guy who had honked at us when I’d been standing in the road talking to Donny and Jeff in the Tomahawk.
Jeff and I watched Donny pick his way carefully through the yard to the door, carrying what looked like three heavy-duty, open-ocean fishing rods with big, gold-tone reels.
“Look at those Penn Internationals!” I shouted to Jeff.
“Yeah,” he said admiringly. “I wonder where he got them? They’re worth—what? Like five hundred dollars apiece?”
“More like a thousand, I think,” I answered.
Jeff whistled. “Wow.”
The skinny man came to the door again, and Donny went inside.
“Do you know that guy?” I asked Jeff.
He shook his head. “He’s not too friendly, is he?”
“That’s for sure. I wonder what they’re doing?”
Jeff shrugged. “Donny said he was running an errand for somebody.”
“Well, I hope it’s not going to take much longer,” I said. Twilight was beginning to fill the yard with shadows. I didn’t want to miss the fireworks, and I didn’t want Jeff’s and my friends from school to miss seeing us.
“Here he comes,” said Jeff.
Donny came out empty-handed and walked toward the car, a satisfied look on his face.
“All right!” he said happily, swinging into the front seat and drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “Let’s go. I promised you guys a party!”
The Tomahawk jounced along through the gathering darkness, the headlights picking out first a deer, then a family of skunks. Finally, we were back on the main road, heading toward Oak Bluffs where the fireworks display and all the food stands were. Donny cruised slowly along the beachfront road, where hundreds of people had already claimed prime seats on the breakwall.
“Hey, there’s Jason and Eric and the guys,” I said, leaning into the front seat and pointing toward a group of kids from school. “Honk, Donny!”
Donny obliged, giving the Tomahawk’s horn three quick taps. I slid across to the other side of the car and leaned out the window. Jason’s jaw dropped when he saw Jeff and me waving from the windows of the Tomahawk. The other guys didn’t even try to hide their envy. Eric gave me the “thumbs-up” sign, and I waved, trying to look cool and casual, as if I rode around with Donny Madison every day of the week.
Next we passed a group that included Jen Navarro, Donny’s girlfriend. I saw her father frown as she waved excitedly and walked over to the car. Donny stopped, with the engine running, and Jen leaned in the driver’s-side window to give him a kiss. Her long dark hair blew about her face, and I watched the way Donny sat back afterward, draping his arm across the open window, as if it was only natural that a beautiful girl like Jen should want to kiss him.
“So,” he said lazily, with a teasing tone in his voice, “how’s the family?”
Jen made a face. “I can’t believe Daddy’s making me spend the whole weekend with my cousins. I mean, they’re okay, I guess.” She looked deep into Donny’s eyes and smiled. “But I’d rather be with you.”
I couldn’t help imagining what I’d do if a girl ever looked at me like that. I was pretty sure I’d never be able to be as cool as D
onny, who reached up, gave her a little pretend punch to the chin, and said teasingly, “Yeah, well, Daddy knows best.” There was a quick beep from behind, and Donny glanced in the rearview mirror. “Gotta go. We’re holding up traffic here.”
Jen, looking sad, mouthed the words, Call me, as we pulled away. I couldn’t see Donny’s face, but if Jen had said that to me, I’d have been mouthing back, I will, I promise.
“Wow,” said Jeff. I was thinking pretty much the same thing, but never would have said it out loud.
Donny looked at Jeff and laughed. “Don’t get any big ideas, Manning,” he said. “She’s a little old for you.”
Jeff looked really embarrassed. “I know, man. I didn’t mean anything. I was just—”
Donny laughed again and said easily, “No sweat. Jen has that effect on guys.”
I saw another group of kids from school and called out the window, “Hey, Mulvey!” It was great to watch Todd Mulvey’s face, looking first puzzled, then impressed, when he saw Jeff and me in the Tomahawk.
I kept watching for kids I knew, waving casually to them from my place by the window, as Donny drove slowly down the avenue.
When the first flurry of fireworks went off, loud oohs and aaahs rose from the crowd. I waited to see if Donny was going to park someplace where everybody would be able to see us. To my surprise, he began heading away from town.
“Hey, Donny,” I said. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously. After a minute or two, he pulled into a parking area near what everybody called “the little bridge.” It was a good spot to fish sometimes, but why the heck was Donny coming here now?
I was about to ask when he turned to flash me his devil-may-care smile. “Trust me, Daggett,” he said.
He turned off the engine, and in the sudden quiet the sound of a firecracker exploded through the night. I saw a glow followed by a faint trail of sparks falling through the sky.
“We’ll be able to see from here,” Donny said. “And now I’ve got a surprise for you guys.”
He turned around to face me and said, “Reach under the seat, will you? Right in the middle.”
I felt blindly under the seat until my fingers touched a paper bag, which I pulled out and held up. I could feel that it was a bottle, full of something. “This?” I asked.
“Yeah. Keep looking. There’s more.”
I found three more paper bags, all about the same size and shape and weight, and handed them forward to Donny.
Donny pulled the bottles out of the bags, one by one, saying, “Top-shelf brands, every one. Nothing but the best for my friends. What’ll it be, Manning? Vodka? Daggett, maybe you’d prefer a fine imported rum.” He opened one of the bottles, held it to his mouth, and took a swig. “Aaaah.”
He swallowed, turned to look first at Jeff, then at me, and burst out laughing. “Oh, man!” he said when he’d gotten hold of himself. “You should see your faces! Come on, guys, lighten up! It’s summer vacation. Have a little fun.”
Jeff looked stricken, his face a mixture of disbelief and dismay. I was sure mine looked the same. Donny had said we were going to “party.” I didn’t know what I had expected, exactly, but it wasn’t this.
“What’s the matter?” Donny teased. “Never caught a buzz before?” He laughed and drank again from the bottle, then handed it to Jeff. “Go ahead; try it.”
I watched as Jeff took the bottle, staring at it as if it were a lit firecracker. At that moment, a string of real fireworks exploded, and I thought Jeff was going to jump out of his skin.
My head was spinning with every warning about alcohol I’d ever heard at school, from Mom and Pop, and even from Barry, who had to deal with the results of drunk-driving accidents in his rental cars. I sank as far into the seat as I could, grateful now that I was sitting in the back. I knew it was chicken of me, but I was glad Jeff was going to have to be the one to speak up first. I waited for him to say, “No, thanks, man.”
But Jeff didn’t say no. He lifted the bottle and took a small sip. “Hoo!” he cried, shuddering.
“Have some more,” Donny urged. “It grows on you.”
I watched, unable to believe my eyes, as Jeff took another quick slug.
And then, smiling shakily, Jeff turned around and held out the bottle to me.
Ten
Jeff and I stared at each other across the seat, the bottle raised between us. Donny, seemingly unaware of the incredulous, murderous looks I was sending Jeff, said, “Go for it, Ben.”
I knew what I was supposed to do. Just say no. But I wondered if Mr. Nixon, the drug and alcohol counselor at school, had ever sat in a car with his best friend and a cooler, older kid watching him, waiting to see what he was going to do. I felt Donny s eyes challenging me in the rearview mirror, and decided to pull a really gutless move.
I raised the bottle to my mouth. Keeping my lips pressed tightly together, I took the tiniest sip I possibly could. I made my Adam’s apple wiggle up and down, pretending to swallow more. Just that little taste was gross enough to make me shiver. But I tilted the bottle again and repeated my little performance.
“Whew!” I said, giving what I hoped was a convincing smile. “Not bad.” I handed the bottle back to the front seat, and Donny took it.
“Hey, Daggett,” he said, “reach under that seat again, would you? There’s a couple of cartons of cigarettes under there somewhere.”
Relieved to have my turn over, I began feeling around beneath the sagging foam cushion. It was a good thing I was already leaning down, doubled over, because my mind made a sudden connection that hit me like a punch in the stomach: cigarettes, liquor, expensive fishing equipment—those were the things that had been stolen the night before from the cabin cruiser at Menemsha harbor!
I sat bolt upright, banging my head against the seat in front of me. “Donny!” I said, the words bursting from my mouth before I had time to think. “Where did you get this stuff?”
Donny paused midswig, then raised the bottle and swallowed more. Slowly, he lowered his arm and turned to face me.
The fireworks display began in earnest then, with an ear-splitting volley of deep booms. The whole sky lit up, white, red, blue, then white again. Donny’s face flashed eerily before my eyes, illuminated one moment by color and light, cast into shadow the next. His features appeared friendly and familiar one moment, strange and sinister the next. I stared, mesmerized, all kinds of mixed-up emotions exploding inside me, as the show went on.
When there was a pause in the action, Donny turned away. In the darkness and quiet that followed, he said, “Ask me no questions, Daggett, and I’ll tell you no lies.”
Silence followed this remark, dragging on unbearably, as we all sat frozen in place.
Then Donny swore under his breath and said, “You guys are about as much fun as a fart in a phone booth.” He took several more long drinks, then muttered, “Okay, Sherlock. Congratulations. I’m the one who hit that guy’s boat.”
Jeff glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but neither of us spoke. I felt kind of stunned.
Slouching angrily in the front seat, Donny opened a pack of cigarettes and lit up. The fireworks started again, and he watched, concentrating on blowing smoke rings, ignoring Jeff and me completely. Even with the windows open, I began feeling a little sick.
At last the fireworks built to the grand finale and came to an end. In the quiet that followed, Donny let out a sarcastic laugh. “For crying out loud, you guys are acting like I mugged a nun or something. It’s not that big a deal.”
After taking another drink, he added, “Think about it, Ben. The guy who owns that cabin cruiser is loaded, right? What’s a couple of rods and reels to him? He can just go out and buy new ones, no sweat. Whereas I sell them and I make more money than I’ve ever had in my life.”
Jeff caught my eye again and spoke up. “Yeah. It’s not like you took them off one of us.”
I thought, There it is again: us and them.
&
nbsp; “My point exactly,” Donny said, smiling and slapping Jeff approvingly on the arm. “I mean, you guys know what’s going on, don’t you?” he asked. “These people from outside, they just keep coming, buying up houses and land, making all the prices go up. So you know what? Pretty soon, people like us—people who were born here—we’re not going to be able to afford to live on our own freakin’ island. They’re taking over, man.”
“It stinks,” Jeff said boldly.
“You’re darn right it stinks,” Donny said emphatically, taking another slug from the bottle. His voice was starting to sound funny, kind of thick and slow. “Sometimes when those fat cats bring their cars into the garage, I feel like—” He paused, as though he’d lost his train of thought for a minute.
“Daggett,” he said finally, “how do you feel when your mother comes home from Town Hall and tells you how she put up with grief from tourists all day?” He mimicked a bossy female day-tripper: “I want my beach pass now!”
“Lousy,” I admitted, glad that Donny was directing his anger at them rather than at Jeff and me. To keep his focus there, I added, “And you should have heard the guy Chick and I had on the boat today.”
Jeff broke in eagerly. “Oh, yeah, you were going to tell me about that. What happened?”
Briefly, I told about the morning with Brad and Nicki. “I really felt like decking that guy!” I said, and the feeling I’d had that morning came back as strong as before.
“Exactly,” said Donny, lighting up another cigarette, then taking another drink. “But you didn’t, did you? You were nice and polite and you ended up getting stiffed.”
“Chick didn’t want Brad’s money,” I explained.
“Then Chick’s an idiot,” Donny said darkly. “He should have gotten every penny out of those jerks he could.”
I tried to remember what else Chick had told me about not wanting Brad’s money, but I couldn’t. What Donny was saying seemed to make more sense, anyway. Not that I thought Chick was an idiot, but why not make Brad pay for being such a pain?
Death at Devil's Bridge Page 5
