Canal Days Calamity

by Jamie M. Blair

“She what?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “She’s grounded!”

  Mom and Monica exchanged wide-eyed glances. “Guess she doesn’t think so,” Monica said.

  Mom nodded. “Someone is going to be in really big trouble.”

  “Someone’s already in really big trouble.” I darted into the dining room to retrieve my handbag to excavate my cell phone. I checked the long, slender inside pocket where I’d determined I’d keep my phone. It wasn’t there. If I had an ounce of self-discipline, maybe I could be an ounce organized.

  I turned my bag over and dumped everything out onto the kitchen table.

  “Cameron!” Mom said, shocked. “What a mess!”

  “No time for a lecture, Mom.” I grabbed my cell and dialed Ben’s number. Once again, it went to voicemail. “Call me about your daughter. We have big problems with her.”

  “Well, that’ll make him want to call back,” Mom said.

  I dropped my phone on the table and sank into a chair. “Did Mia say where she was going?”

  “No.” Monica folded the paper treat bags and fastened the tin ties. “Someone picked her up. I figured it was Steph.”

  “No, no, no,” I said. “It’s the boy. The boy!”

  “What boy?” Mom and Monica asked in unison.

  I told them what Soapy had told me.

  “That can’t be true,” Mom said, placing both hands on the countertop like she felt faint. “Mia, staying out all night with a boy? No. I can’t believe that.”

  “Soapy saw what he saw. I don’t have her side of the story,” I said.

  “She’s not a saint,” Monica said. “She’s not a bad kid, but she’s a sixteen-year-old girl who isn’t afraid to try things. She’s going to push the boundaries, that’s for sure.”

  “This is going beyond the boundaries.” I tossed a chapstick and a pack of mints back in my handbag. “Ben’s going to hit the roof.”

  “Do you have to tell him?” Monica asked.

  “Of course I have to tell him.”

  “I was just thinking that maybe if you handled this and kept it between you and Mia, she’d appreciate it and not give you grief anymore.”

  “Plus you could hang it over her head,” Mom said.

  “I’m not blackmailing a teenager.”

  “When you have a strong-willed daughter, you use every tool in the shed.” Mom quirked her eyebrows. “I should know.”

  “I never stayed out all night with a boy when I was in high school.”

  “Maybe I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “Mom!” Monica shouted. “We were only friends. You know that. I fell asleep working on a Spanish project.”

  “So you say.”

  “Wouldn’t I admit it by now?”

  I put the last of my junk back in my purse and got up from the table. “I’m telling Ben. We’re going to our Wednesday night movie tonight.”

  “Think about it,” Monica said. “You’ll win points with him if Mia respects your authority.”

  “I’ll lose points if I don’t tell him about this and he finds out. Half the town knows about it.”

  She just shrugged.

  Maybe Monica had a point.

  Mia and I had to come to an understanding somehow. Her disregard for my authority had to stop. She’d be terrified of her father finding out about what she’d done. His disapproval would devastate her. Maybe I could use this situation as a tool—a teaching tool, not a blackmailing tool. Between Mia and me, we could come to an understanding about her behavior and Ben wouldn’t have to know about it. This must be how parenting worked.

  I’d win this battle of wills. I felt like a veteran mom already.

  • Fourteen •

  The twentieth jar of honey was capped when Mia came strolling home just after four o’clock in the afternoon. “Where have you been?” I asked.

  “Steph’s.”

  “I grounded you this morning.”

  “I had to work.”

  “We need to talk. Right now.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  Anna inhaled sharply. Her parents would probably throttle her if she spoke to them this way. “We’ll put these jars in a box before we go,” she said.

  “Thank you, Anna.”

  Mia rolled her eyes.

  “Upstairs,” I said, grasping her wrist and pulling her inside. “This disrespect ends right now.”

  “It isn’t disrespect. It’s apathy.”

  I stopped mid-way up the stairs and spun around to face her. “Will you be apathetic when your father finds out you spent the night with a boy last night?”

  Her face instantly turned white. “It wasn’t like that. I swear!”

  “I don’t care what it was like.” I continued up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind us. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You haven’t lived in Metamora long, but I can assure you, you’re lucky to go to the bathroom without everyone in town knowing about it.”

  “Eww.”

  “You get the point. Who is he?”

  “Who is who?” she asked, dropping down on the end of her bed.

  “The boy you were with last night—and today, I’m guessing.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “You’re digging your own grave here, Mia.”

  She huffed and bounced back to the head of her bed. “You know him, so I don’t know why this is such a big deal. It’s not what you think.”

  “I know him? Okay, then who is he?”

  She pursed her lips and looked up at me under hooded eyelids. “Nick Valentine.”

  “Nick Valentine?” Nick had been one of my Action Agency members while working off his community service and being on probation for assault. He hung around with a bad crowd, wore rock band t-shirts, had spiked hair with bleached tips, and painted his nails black. Not to mention …“He’s like twenty years old! Good gravy! You’re sixteen, Mia. You’re in high school. He’s got a criminal record!”

  “You know he’s not like that.”

  “Like what? Everything I just said is true.”

  “It’s not like we were by ourselves. His boss, Avery Bantum, was with us. He owns a dog kennel and Nick works for him. It’s not like he’s a criminal. I know you don’t think Nick’s a bad guy.” She picked up a stuffed bear and hugged it.

  “I don’t—I didn’t—Mia, I don’t know him well enough to say if he’s okay for you to date. The point remains he’s too old for you, regardless. He hangs around a bad crowd. His friend, Cory Bantum, Avery’s brother I’m guessing, was killed last year. I don’t want you around guys like Avery and Nick.”

  “It’s not even—ugh! Why do you have to be like this? Why can’t you trust my judgement?”

  “Because you sneak around! How am I supposed to trust you?”

  “So, what now?” Mia asked, tossing her bear aside. “You tell my dad and I get sent back to my mom in Columbus, right?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, right. Dad doesn’t even live here and I’m causing you problems when you’re already stressed, blah, blah, blah. I get it. I’ll start packing my stuff.”

  “I said no, Mia. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be punished, but you’re not getting shipped off.”

  “Oh.” She folded her arms and sank back into her pillows. “Are you telling my dad?”

  This was tricky. Was I going to tell Ben? I should, but I really wanted to handle the situation myself. I wanted to earn Mia’s trust and respect. “I haven’t decided.”

  She glanced up at me, hopeful. “I’ll do anything—anything—if you don’t tell him.”

  “The first thing you have to do is take your punishment like an adult. You got yourself into this mess, so you have to accept the consequences.”

  She took a deep breath, and nodded.
>
  “No pageant,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “What? You can’t do that!”

  “I can do that, and I am. Your punishment is that you can’t participate in the pageant.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Not fair is breaking the rules and expecting nothing bad to happen.”

  “Grandma Irene won’t stand for this.”

  “I guess if she doesn’t she’ll complain to your father, who will ask me why I’m not letting you participate. Then I’ll have to tell him why. So, if I were you, I’d find a way to make sure Grandma Irene doesn’t have a fit about it.”

  I felt terrible, but at the same time, this was working out better than expected. Irene couldn’t come back on me about the punishment, either.

  “I can’t believe you would do this to me!” she yelled.

  “It’s your choice. Accept my punishment, or your dad can come up with one.”

  Mia threw herself face-first into her pillow, crying. “You’re going to feel so bad for doing this!”

  “It’s not about me feeling good about punishing you. It’s about you learning your lesson.”

  I left her room feeling light-headed. It was a confrontation I hadn’t been looking forward to, but I think I’d done well. I held my ground and doled out her punishment. She’d think twice before seeing Nick Valentine again. At least without permission.

  Downstairs, my Action Agency members had left. Mom, Quinn, and Monica were finishing up making the kitchen spotless, and the dogs were outside chasing each other around the backyard.

  “Anna left the honey in the basement and that list on the fridge,” Mom said, jutting her chin toward a paper stuck to the freezer door with a magnet.

  It was a checklist of the items we had left to do for Canal Days. All of them were crossed off except one: getting the road that ran from Route 52 to the canal closed for vendor tables and pedestrians.

  I’d talk to Ben about that when he picked me up in a couple of hours, and the last item on our long list would be completed. Even the fancy booths that Irene had demanded were checked off with a note stating that Old Dan’s son, Frank, had called to say they were finished.

  I felt a weight lift from my shoulders, like I’d been lugging Gus around all week and had just set him down.

  “You look faint,” Mom said, striding over to me and brushing my hair back from my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

  “I think I’m in shock. We’re actually going to pull this off. Canal Days is actually going to happen as planned.” A giddy laugh escaped me.

  “Both of my girls have succeeded!”

  “You’re finished with the treats?” I asked, Monica.

  “One more kind to make tomorrow and I’ll be finished.” She wiped her hands on her flour-covered apron.

  “What kind?” My house had smelled mouth-watering good all week. Savory Italian and then sweet like honey.

  “Dogs Dig Leftovers!” She grinned and elbowed Quinn playfully.

  “Nobody digs leftovers,” he said.

  There was obviously some joke between them about this last biscuit. “What’s in it?”

  “Pot roast, peas, and carrots.”

  “Seriously? I might take up a diet of dog treats.” They sounded better than most of my meals.

  “Just a small amount of lean beef minced with the vegetables and mixed with my biscuit dough,” she said. “The grocery in Brookville has roasts on sale—buy one get one free. It inspired me.”

  My stomach growled. “You’re making me hungry. I better call Ben and find out if we’re going to dinner before the movie.”

  “You mean you’re not going to make movie popcorn your dinner?” Mom asked, giving me the side-eye.

  “I know. I know. You didn’t raise me to live on junk food.”

  “I’m going to find a yoga class to sign you up for. You need something healthy in your life.”

  I stifled a groan. She was only here for a few more days, after all, and she meant well. But I did find it ironic that only minutes ago I was the one doling out the punishment, and now I was firmly under my own mom’s thumb.

  I wondered if it was karma or just bad luck.

  ∞

  Ben snorted and coughed, trying not to choke on his soda. “Yoga?”

  “I don’t know why that’s so funny,” I said, glaring at the box of buttery popcorn on my lap. We were sitting in the middle of the center row of the theater, waiting for the movie to start.

  “I’ve never known you to be … bendy.”

  “Bendy? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Yoga. Don’t you have to stretch a whole bunch of different ways?”

  “You don’t think I can stretch different ways?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. It just doesn’t strike me as anything you’d actually want to do.”

  “Maybe I do. I don’t know.” Of course I didn’t want to go to yoga, but I wasn’t going to admit it to Ben. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I needed an exercise regimen in my life, but didn’t want to commit to going to a class once a week—or more. What if it was three times a week? I’d never make it. I didn’t have the willpower or the self-discipline. That I could admit.

  Ben patted my knee but knew better than to continue on the topic of yoga. “This movie’s supposed to be good?”

  “That’s what Cass said.” We were seeing something called Sunset At Dawn, and as far as I knew it was based on a book I’d never read or even heard of. Since there wasn’t anything else playing we hadn’t already seen in the past few weeks, Ben agreed to give it a shot.

  The theater was practically empty, with only one other couple—in their early twenties by the looks of them—a few rows in front of us. That should’ve tipped me off.

  The lights went down and the previews played through. I munched my popcorn and peanut M&M’s. Then the opening scene flashed onscreen.

  My mouth dropped open, releasing an M&M. It fell onto my lap and rolled to the floor.

  Bodies. Dead, mutilated bodies filled the screen. It was horrific.

  Then it got worse.

  Zombies. Dead, decomposing zombies eating brains.

  “What is this?” Ben whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Cass said this was good?”

  “Yes!”

  The young girl in front of us looked over her shoulder “Shh!”

  The monsters on screen were moaning, making an ungodly racket. One of them—the main character maybe?—caught sight of a dog and took chase after it.

  “No!” I grabbed Ben’s sleeve and hid my face in his shirt.

  “It’s okay,” he said, stroking my hair. “That’s one fast dog. He won’t catch him.”

  I peeked at the screen just in time to see the dog slip into the woods and escape. “I don’t think I can sit through this.”

  “I don’t have any desire to sit through this,” he said, laughing. “Cass …”

  “Cass …” I shook my head, and started to laugh.

  “Shh!” the girl in front of us shot back again.

  “Come on.” Ben took my hand and we left the theater.

  Outside, we sat in the parking lot on the tailgate of his pickup, Metamora One. “That’s the last time I take movie recommendations from Cass,” I said, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

  “You’d think having a boyfriend who makes documentaries she’d appreciate a different kind of movie than zombies. Don’t get me wrong, a good zombie flick every now and then is okay, but that was over the top.”

  “That was gross.”

  “The dog did you in,” he said, stealing my peanut M&M’s.

  “I can’t help it. I live with too many of them.”

  “You’re the leader of the pack.”

 
“I try at least. I hear Avery Bantum took over the family kennel for his brother. I’m glad he kept it open.” Cory Bantum had been a possible witness to the last murder in Metamora and ended up being the second victim. I’d spoken to him on the telephone once and only knew of him through passing comments from my neighbors, but he seemed to have a knack for finding trouble. Still, I was glad to know that his brother took on the dog kennel. He might be a good person for Monica to work with, giving samples to his boarders.

  “I heard that, too. The guy’s been arrested a few times, so I hope he’s turned things around now that he’s a business owner.”

  I thought of Mia hanging out with Nick and Avery. “Me, too. Hey, how’s Brutus coming along with his training?”

  “Good. Really good. Quinn has a gift, that’s for sure. I never thought I’d see the day Brutus stayed on command.”

  “How long until he’s an official K9 dog cop?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He’s got a while.”

  “Does that mean Quinn’s staying a long time?”

  He eyed me shrewdly. “I see what you’re asking. The answer is I have no idea. I’m not sure he even knows.”

  “What do you mean he doesn’t even know?”

  “I don’t think he has any reason to go back home anytime soon.”

  “But maybe he has a reason to stay?”

  “We can hope.” He popped a couple peanut M&M’s into his mouth. “What was going on with Mia today?”

  A jolt of panic shot through me. “With Mia?”

  “Cam, you left me two voicemails.”

  “Right. Well, um, it’s nothing. I handled it. Just an argument.”

  “Didn’t sound like nothing. Are you sure?”

  I knew in my heart I should tell him, but I had handled it. He would kill me if he ever found out about Nick Valentine, but I couldn’t betray Mia’s trust. She and I had an understanding. I punished her and she was done seeing Nick. “I’m sure.”

  He sat up a little taller and smiled proudly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You and Mia figuring things out. It makes me happy, Cam. I hope you know how much I love having her here, and how much—”

  “I know,” I said, not willing to hear what would come next. Guilt gnawed at me. He should be at home—at our home—with his daughter. Things were better now. He and I were better. And Mia was here. We could be a family.