© 2010 by Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Edited by Jeanette Littleton.
Print ISBN 978-1-60260-292-2
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
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Dickinson Press, Grand Rapids, MI; August 2010; D10002448
The Bridge in the Desert
The noon sun shone bright in a sapphire sky. But twelve-year-old Alexis Howell wasn’t paying attention. She stood on the bridge and watched the Arizona heat warping the hills of sand and sagebrush in the distance.
She had never been so afraid in all her life.
Alexis made herself look at the clouds to try to keep her mind off her fear. She liked their shapes, but mostly she was keeping her mind off the water. A crowd of tourists clamored past, and a tall man bumped her into the rail. Her eyes were ripped from the sky as she caught her balance…and looked down.
It seemed like forever to the water below. The wind blew, lifting her brown ponytail. The bridge swayed. It rocked beneath her feet.
Maybe it will flip over and throw me off, Alexis thought in sudden panic.
Why had she promised to meet Elizabeth here of all places? Why?
Like most children, Alexis had grown up singing the song “London Bridge is falling down….” She’d certainly been surprised to learn that the London Bridge wasn’t in London at all. It was here in Arizona.
Another group of tourists nudged past. A large purse landed with a thud against Alexis’s back, and before she knew it, she had flipped forward. She screamed. She was falling…falling…falling….
“Alexis?”
The vision evaporated. Alexis turned toward the voice that had said her name.
“Elizabeth! I’m so glad you’re here!” She hugged her friend but then couldn’t seem to let go. She clung to her friend like a life preserver.
“I’m glad, too,” said Elizabeth in her soft Texas twang, not seeming to notice the tightness of the hug. “This place is beautiful! The water is so calm and peaceful, and the bridge is magnificent! I did think it would be bigger though.”
“Sure,” said Alexis, who thought the bridge was quite big enough. She released Elizabeth but then held her arm until they reached the sidewalk at the end of the bridge.
The sounds of vacation echoed off the lake. Laughing children, scolding parents, and the sputter of motorboats. Vendors called out, advertising their wares.
“Cotton candy!”
“Funnel cakes here!”
“Hot dogs! Fresh, cold lemonade!”
Alexis had stopped shaking. Now she was simply trying to keep up with Elizabeth. This was not always easy, since her friend’s legs seemed twice as long as hers. Elizabeth kept pulling on the bottom edges of her shorts, like they were too short.
“How was the trip?” said Alexis.
“Long,” said Elizabeth. “We drove. We just got here, but I needed a break from my brother. Mom said I could meet you and hang out until dinner.”
“Great! I’ll take you to my hotel. You won’t believe it…. It looks like a castle! It has an amazing pool, too. And Grandma got our room for free!”
“Wow!” said Elizabeth. “How’d she do that?”
“She’s teaching some classes about British history,” said Alexis. “It’s a new addition to the London Bridge Days Festival.” She gestured to all of the tourists.
They had entered the area of Lake Havasu City that looked like an old English village. People everywhere were dressed up. They all wore a lot of clothes for such a hot day. The women dressed in bright, heavy, velvet clothes. Some wore tattered dark clothes to look like beggars and paupers, poor people. Others were dressed regally to look like princes and queens. They reminded Alexis of the scenes and actors from movies like Robin Hood or The Princess Bride or even a few of the scenes in The Chronicles of Narnia.
Elizabeth turned and looked again at the bridge. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and took a picture. “That’s really the London Bridge, huh?” asked Elizabeth.
Alexis glanced over her shoulder and shivered.
“Yep. The city of London had to replace it because it was so old, but they didn’t want to throw it away, so they sold it to Lake Havasu City.”
“I thought the London Bridge was tall, you know? With towers at the ends,” said Elizabeth.
“You’re thinking of the Tower Bridge,” said Alexis. “My grandma told me that people always get them mixed up.”
This bridge definitely didn’t have towers. It was wide and low to the water, with five long arches supporting its weight. The top of the bridge had a stone rail that held a few old lampposts and a flagpole.
“It’s so weird to see something called the London Bridge in the middle of the Arizona desert!” said Elizabeth.
Alexis laughed as she led her friend toward the London Bridge Resort, where she was staying. She was so excited to be on fall break. She had a whole week off from school, so her grandmother had invited Alexis to join her at the resort. Alexis was happy already, but she became super-excited when she found out that Elizabeth was coming, too. Elizabeth’s dad came to Lake Havasu every year for the bass-fishing tournament. This year he brought the whole family.
Alexis couldn’t wait to spend an entire five days with the oldest of the Camp Club Girls! Who knew? Maybe they would get a chance to solve a mystery. Something was bound to happen when crowds this large got together.
“Wow! You’re staying here?” Elizabeth cried. They had turned into the entrance of the London Bridge Resort. Two huge towers guarded the doors. Every time Alexis looked at them, she expected to see a princess waving from the top or a dragon at the bottom, clawing to get in.
“Hey, stand by the entrance and let me get a picture,” Elizabeth directed. “Then I’ll send it to the rest of the Camp Club Girls.”
Alexis posed until Elizabeth said, “Okay. That’ll make them wish they were here.”
Then Alexis led the way through the front doors, and a huge scarlet lobby glittered before them. To the left was an expanse of marble floor, which led over to the check-in desk, and to the right was—
Elizabeth gasped.
“I know,” said Alexis. “Isn’t it awesome?”
An expanse of soft red carpet was surrounded by gold stands and scarlet ropes. Inside the ropes was a gigantic carriage. It looked like it was made of gold. The roof of the carriage was held up by eight golden palm trees, and at the very top sat three cherubs. They were holding up the royal crown.
The girls were leaning in to get a closer look when a boyish voice snapped behind them.
“Can’t you see the ropes? No touching!”
Alexis spun around. An
officer in a brown sheriff’s uniform stood at the edge of the carpet, crossing his arms.
“We weren’t going to touch it, sir,” said Elizabeth. “I promise—”
“I know troublemakers when I see ’em,” said the young man. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty.
“Hi,” muttered Alexis. She glanced at his badge. “Um, Mr. Dewayne.”
He pointed to his badge and said, “Deputy Dewayne to you.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Elizabeth, but it came out more like a question.
“Don’t get smart with me, little girl!” said Deputy Dewayne. Alexis smiled. Elizabeth was easily as tall as the officer. “This is my town! I won’t have tourists making a mess of things!”
Alexis and Elizabeth simply nodded.
“If I see you even put one finger over those ropes”—he pointed toward the carriage—“I’ll clap you in irons!”
Alexis couldn’t help it. She sniggered. Clap us in irons? Whatever that means.
“You think this is funny?” asked the deputy. Alexis was about to say no, but they were interrupted by a waitress carrying a paper bag.
“Here’s your lunch, Deputy,” she said with a smile. “Grilled cheese with no crust—just the way you like it.” She winked at the girls and handed the officer his bag… which had cartoon animals all over it.
Deputy Dewayne saw the girls hide a laugh as they looked from him to the bag.
“The kiddie menu is cheaper!” he exclaimed. “And I like it! You just remember what I said. This is my town. Don’t get on my bad side!” With that, he turned and marched out of the lobby.
“No way!” said Elizabeth.
“I know!” said Alexis. “Kiddie menu?”
“Clap us in irons?”
Elizabeth shot some pictures of the carriage, and then the girls laughed all the way up the stairs to the room where Alexis’s grandmother was giving a speech on British literature. When they reached the door of the room where Mrs. Windsor was teaching, Alexis put a finger to her lips to tell Elizabeth to be quiet.
“And that,” said Alexis’s grandmother’s voice, “is how the famous Gunpowder Plot was discovered.”
The people applauded lightly and then stood to leave. Alexis had to wait for the group of people around her grandmother to clear before introducing Elizabeth.
“This is my grandma, Molly Windsor.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” said the short lady, shaking Elizabeth’s hand. Her hair was a powerful shade of red, and her face was covered with a smattering of freckles, just like Alexis’s. “I hope you two have been enjoying the scenery!”
“We’ve only just begun,” said Elizabeth. “But we have been to the bridge.”
Alexis shuddered again.
“Really, Alexis!” said her grandmother. “That bridge is hardly twenty feet tall and made out of solid concrete and steel! It’s perfectly safe. You need to work on that fear of yours!”
“You’re afraid of bridges?” cried Elizabeth.
“It’s nothing,” said Alexis, changing the subject. “Want to go sightseeing with us, Grandma?”
“Sorry, girls. I have two more lectures today. Why don’t you explore together? You’re bound to find some fascinating things.”
She bustled around her podium, taking out another set of notes. Just then, an older man approached the front. Had he been sitting in the back all that time? Or had it just taken him that long to walk up the aisle?
“Interesting topic, Dr. Windsor,” he said. His voice sounded like sandpaper under water—scratchy and wet at the same time.
“Thank you,” said Alexis’s grandmother. “Girls, this is Dr. Edwards. He is speaking this week as well.”
The skinny, slouched man reached out to shake hands but pulled back quickly. He yanked a square white piece of fabric out of his front pocket. He held the handkerchief up to his nose and sneezed into it. The violence of the sneeze had not messed up his perfect mustache, which was a glimmering white, like his short hair.
“Forgive me,” he said. “The air here is dusty.”
“This is my granddaughter, Alexis,” said Grandma Windsor. “And her friend Elizabeth. Alexis is staying with me for the week.”
The man eyed the girls and frowned.
“Well, hopefully you two will find something better to do than bother the people attending our conference,” he said. “The bed race, for example, usually interests the loud youth of the city.”
“Bed race?” said Alexis. “What’s a bed race?” It sounded so interesting that she forgot Dr. Edwards had just insulted them.
“Ask the crazy lady at the front desk,” said Dr. Edwards. With that, he bowed to Grandma Windsor and left.
“Don’t mind him, girls,” said Grandma Windsor when he was out of hearing range. “He’s old and grouchy. Gets along better with books than with people.”
Another audience began flooding into the room, so Alexis and Elizabeth fought against the tide and left, waving good-bye over their shoulders. They walked back down to the lobby and saw the woman Dr. Edwards had called the crazy lady at the front desk.
Of course she wasn’t really crazy. She did have a streak of purple hair though. Alexis was sure that someone like Dr. Edwards would call that crazy instead of creative, interesting, or fun.
They waited at the desk behind a man who had lost his room key and a woman who needed more towels. When it was their turn, Alexis spoke up.
“Hi,” she said. “We’re visiting here, and we heard something about a bed race. Could you tell us what that is?”
“Of course!” said the lady. She wasn’t old, but she wasn’t too young either. The color in her hair made it even harder for Alexis to tell her age. “It’s exactly what it sounds like—a bed race!” she said brightly.
Alexis and Elizabeth exchanged a confused look. The lady behind the desk explained further.
“The race happens on Saturday, before the parade. Each team decorates an old bed with wheels on it. Then the teams race the beds through town. Someone pushes or pulls the bed, and the others ride on it. You sign up over there,” she pointed to the wall a few feet away. There was a large poster with a picture of a zooming four-poster and a scribbled list of names.
Alexis looked at Elizabeth and could tell she was thinking the same thing: This could be quite the adventure! A cloud passed over Alexis’s smile.
“Where are we supposed to get an old bed?” she asked.
“You’d be surprised,” said the woman behind the desk. “I’d start looking around the shopping area. Try the older shops—and don’t hesitate to ask around.”
The girls turned to leave, but the desk lady called out.
“I’m Jane, by the way.”
“I’m Alexis, and this is Elizabeth.”
“Well, good luck! The same team has won two years in a row. Maybe you can show them up, huh?” She waved at the girls and gave them a cheerful smile.
The girls waved back and walked across the lobby toward the front door and the sunshine.
Suddenly the lobby door flew open, and a short, round man with messy gray hair stumbled through it. His face was red beneath a bushy mustache, and sweat poured down his cheeks. Everyone in the area stopped moving and talking. The only sound in the room was the slap of the man’s polished shoes as he crossed the marble floor.
“Mr. Mayor, what is it?”
The mayor, thought Alexis. What could be wrong?
“Mayor Applebee, can I help?” Jane came out from behind the front desk. The mayor stopped. A bead of sweat flipped off the end of his chin. He raised his hands in the air, as if he were about to make an important announcement.
His breathing was still labored, but it seemed that he couldn’t wait any longer. He gulped at the air and spoke.
“The bridge…is… It’s…” He almost fell over, but Jane rushed to support him. After a moment the mayor regained his balance. He drew in a breath—more steady this time—and managed to finish a whole sentence.
/>
“The London Bridge is… falling down.”
Falling Down!
Falling down, falling down.
London Bridge is falling down….
Alexis half expected the mayor to finish the old nursery rhyme.
But there was no “my fair lady.” Only a winded man standing in the silence of the lobby and looking distressed. No one spoke, because no one knew what to say. Was this some sort of joke? If so, it wasn’t a very good one. No one was laughing.
“The commissioner!” wheezed the mayor. “Where is he?”
“In the restaurant,” said Jane. “Eating lunch.”
Mayor Applebee took off through the lobby.
“Who is the commissioner?” Alexis asked.
“The bridge commissioner,” answered Jane. “He’s in charge of the committee that oversees the bridge. Something must really be wrong.”
Alexis and Elizabeth followed the flow of people out of the hotel lobby and toward the canal. A large group was already gathering on the shore, and it was difficult to see the bridge. They could only see a herd of people being shown off the nearest end of the bridge. The food stands that had been selling treats moments earlier were piling everything into boxes. Over the entrance to the bridge, the sign reading TASTES OF HAVASU had been removed, and a police officer was replacing it with yellow caution tape.
There must really be something wrong with the bridge, thought Alexis. “Come on, Elizabeth. Let’s see if we can get closer.”
The girls edged their way to the front of the crowd and then carefully walked along the water’s edge toward the bridge. Eventually they saw it. A crack—about eight feet long—climbing out of the water and reaching toward the arch in the second bridge support. Even as they watched, a bit of mortar crumbled and plunked into the channel.
The crowd gasped.
Voices chimed together, striking chords of worry and fear.
“It couldn’t really fall, could it?”
“The middle will go first, if it does.”
“I guess that’s what happens when you buy a used bridge!”
“What about the parade?”
What about the parade? thought Alexis. She had been so excited about the festival, but could it go on if the bridge was threatening to collapse? Suddenly a voice from the back of the crowd rose above all the others.
Alexis and the Arizona Escapade Page 1
