The Missing Manatee

by Cynthia DeFelice

  “It’s okay,” I murmured.

  “It’s that new employee, Veronica,” Memaw declared. “She calls in sick every time she has a hangnail, I swear. Now, what shall we make ourselves for supper, Skeeter? Are you in the mood for tuna fish, or maybe your Memaw’s world-famous macaroni and cheese?”

  I tried to rouse myself and pay attention. “What? Oh. I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you don’t know, who does?”

  I shrugged. “Either one’s fine, I guess.”

  Memaw put her hands on her hips and gave me a penetrating look. “Either you’ve gone and fallen in love or something’s troubling you. Which one is it?”

  I looked up at her, surprised.

  “Your mind is a thousand miles away, Skeeter. You think I can’t tell when I’m talking to a fence post?”

  “Sorry,” I said. Then I thought about her question. “In love? Who would I be in love with?”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me,” Memaw said, lifting her eyebrows and grinning. “Now that I’ve got your attention.”

  I shook my head and grinned back. “Sorry, Memaw, it’s nothing like that.” Then I felt my smile fade.

  “So, something is wrong.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it that paper for your English teacher?”

  “No. Way worse than that.”

  Memaw’s expression grew serious. Before she could ask, I blurted out, “I found the manatee.”

  “Well, good for you, darlin’!” she exclaimed. “That’s wonderful!” She looked at me again and asked uncertainly, “Isn’t it?”

  I let out a big sigh. It seemed I talked more to Memaw than to anybody else these days. Which was okay. I mean, Memaw was good to talk to, and whatever she had to say, she always gave it to you straight, and I liked that. But in a weird way, I didn’t want to tell her what I’d found out, because telling her would make it really true. Even while I knew Dan had to be the killer, part of me couldn’t accept it. I wanted to go back to not knowing, but that was something I’d never be able to do.

  “Dirty Dan did it,” I said at last. It came out as a whisper. I said, louder, “Dirty Dan is the killer.”

  Memaw looked surprised. Then her expression grew grave. She pulled two stools from under the kitchen counter and sat on one. Still looking at me, she gestured for me to take the other.

  My legs suddenly felt too weak to hold me up, and I fell gratefully onto the stool. My shoulders slumped, and I leaned forward, my face in my hands. “I can’t believe it,” I said as hot tears slipped from between my fingers.

  Memaw didn’t say anything right away. She waited until I’d got hold of myself. When I raised my head and wiped my shirtsleeve over my face, she said, “Tell me what happened, Skeeter.”

  I told her everything, not even caring that now Mom would find out about the gun being in the boat, and all the rest of it. Because it turned out Mom had been right about Dirty Dan. No, that wasn’t exactly true. She didn’t know the half of how truly dirty Dan was.

  After I’d finished, Memaw was quiet again for a while before she finally spoke. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’d tell Mac, except he’s down in the Keys.” After a moment I said, “I guess I could tell Earl.” As soon as I’d said it, it seemed to be the obvious answer. Let the police handle it.

  Memaw nodded. “Telling Earl’s one possibility,” she agreed. “Or…” She paused before continuing.

  I looked up, the question in my eyes.

  “You could talk to Dan first.”

  I stared at Memaw, puzzled. “But—why?” I asked.

  “To hear his side of the story, of course.”

  “But what could he possibly say that would make a difference?” I said.

  “Ask him,” Memaw said. When I looked at her in confusion, she said, “Look, Skeet, you liked Dan, right? You liked him a lot.”

  “But that was before—”

  “Just let me finish here. What about the things you liked him for? Did they all change?”

  My head was spinning. “Are you saying because Dirty Dan is a great fisherman and helped me catch a tarpon, that makes it okay that he killed the manatee?”

  Memaw shook her head. “No, Skeeter,” she said, and her voice was softer than usual. “All I’m saying is that if the man was your friend, you might want to go to him first, before you go to the law. I’d want a friend of mine to do that, wouldn’t you?”

  Well, yeah, I thought. I guessed I would. But I’d never actually thought of Dan as my friend. He was Mac’s friend, and Memaw’s. He was a grownup, an adult. I couldn’t just go over to his house and accuse him, even though he deserved it. I didn’t have any idea what to say to him.

  On the other hand, I had to do something soon. The vultures would make short work of what was left of the manatee, and that was my main evidence, along with the rope and ball and gun.

  “So you think I should go over there and—and say what?”

  I wanted Memaw to tell me exactly what to do, but all she said was, “Up to you, Skeeter. It’s only four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time before we’ll be ready to eat.” She began puttering around the kitchen, taking out what she’d need to make supper.

  I sat there, and the more I thought about what Memaw had said about talking to Dan, the more it seemed the right thing to do. If I ran to Earl, I’d be tattling, something a mad, scared kid would do. Talking to Dan, man to man, felt more grownup.

  “Okay. I’ll go.” I said the words even as my mind was screaming, But you are just a kid! And you are mad—and scared, too!

  “Let me get my purse,” said Memaw.

  “You’re coming?” I asked in surprise.

  “I believe you’ve made a good decision, Skeeter. But you don’t think I’m going to let you go by yourself, do you?”

  I was embarrassed by the flood of relief I felt.

  “I’ve known Dan for a long time, Skeet, and I think he deserves to be heard,” Memaw went on. “But he might be a lawbreaker, and we know he has a gun, and I’m not taking any chances with my only grandchild. You ready?”

  I nodded dumbly, and followed her to the car. I was so glad I wasn’t going to have to confront Dirty Dan, after all. Memaw was going to be there, and she’d know what to say. She drove into the back lot at Larry’s and pulled up in front of Dan’s camper. I opened my car door and started to get out.

  “Good luck, Skeeter, darlin’,” Memaw said.

  I stopped, stunned. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll be right here if you need me,” she said brightly.

  “But, I—”

  “Talk to the man, Skeet,” she said, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

  As I walked toward the camper, I imagined myself saying to Dan, “Now, don’t try anything. I brought my grandmother, and she’s right outside.” I pictured Memaw hitting Dirty Dan over the head with her purse. It might have been funny if I hadn’t been so scared.

  I stood at the door, thinking I wouldn’t even have to knock because Dan could surely hear the pounding of my heart.

  Fourteen

  A moment later Dan was at the door, his scar stretching wide with his smile. “Well, if it isn’t the Tarpon Kid,” he said. “Come on in, Skeet.”

  I almost found myself smiling back, the way I would have in the old days. But I caught myself, remembering that everything had changed. So I just stood there like a dope.

  “Blink,” Dan called into the camper. “Come see who’s here.”

  Blink came running to the door, followed by Blinky. When he saw me, Blink’s face lit up and his hand went for his pocket. We played a few rounds of our game right then and there, with me still standing on the cinder block they used for a step.

  I’d noticed Dan looking out toward Memaw’s car while Blink and I played flip. “That your grandma out there in the car?” he asked when we were done.

  I nodded.

  “She want to com
e in?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Dan looked puzzled and said, “Well, how ’bout you? No sense in us standing here letting all the air-conditioning out.”

  The moment had come, but I was so nervous I was shaking. After taking a deep breath, I managed to say, “I’ve got to talk to you.”

  “So come on in,” he said, stepping back so I could pass through the door.

  I glanced toward Blink. I said quietly so he couldn’t hear, “Alone would probably be better.”

  Dan nodded. Calmly, he turned to Blink and said, “Could you eat a slice of that red-and-white cardboard Larry calls pizza?”

  Blink laughed and laughed with delight. “It’s not cardboard, Dirty Dan! Dirty Dan is silly! Blinky likes Larry’s pizza and so do I. Skeeter, do you like Larry’s pizza?”

  I nodded, trying to smile back at him. I wished I could leave and go to Larry’s with him, even if it meant eating a piece of the awful stuff that came out of Larry’s microwave.

  “Here,” said Dan, reaching into his wallet and handing Blink two dollars. “One slice for you and one for Blinky. Then come on home, okay?”

  “Okay, Dirty Dan. One for me and one for Blinky. Thanks, Dirty Dan. Bye, Skeet.”

  “See ya, Blink,” I said miserably. I’d suddenly thought of something. What would Blink do if Dirty Dan went to jail? I pushed the thought away.

  Blink was gone and I was face-to-face with Dan. I didn’t have much time. If Larry wasn’t busy, Blink could get two slices of pizza nuked and be back in five minutes.

  Dan nodded toward a chair, and sat in what was obviously his usual seat in front of the TV. He took the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the table and poured some into a glass. “Get you something to drink?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  Dan took a long sip. “Well?” he said. “Somehow I get the feeling you’re not here to talk about tarpon fishing, the weather, or the price of tea in China.”

  I swallowed. After a pause I spoke, and the words came out in a rush. “I found the manatee’s body. There was a blue rope around its neck. It matches the rope in your boat.”

  Dan lifted an eyebrow, and his scar stretched upward. He took a sip from the glass and looked at me, waiting for me to say more.

  “And at the place where I first saw the manatee, there was one of Blinky’s tennis balls. I have it.” Then I stared into my lap, unable to look at him. This time, I waited for him to speak.

  The silence in the little camper grew until it became excruciating. I wanted to scream, Say something! Finally I said desperately, “I saw your gun.”

  He nodded, sipped, and said, “And that led you to conclude what, exactly?”

  Oh, man. He was doing this on purpose, trying to make it even harder for me! Did I have to spell it all out? Couldn’t he just admit what he’d done? My anger gave me enough courage to say, “You’re the one. You shot it. Then you hid it.”

  Dan looked somewhere over my shoulder for a long time without speaking.

  “Why?” I whispered at last.

  “Why,” Dan repeated, and he sounded very tired. He didn’t offer an answer to the question. After another long silence he said, “Remember on Wednesday, how you looked and looked for fish and at first you couldn’t see them, even though they were right there the whole time?”

  What’s he doing, talking about fishing? I thought wildly.

  He went on. “And then you began to look through the water, not just at the surface, and you began to see?”

  He was trying to change the subject. Trying to make me think about something else. How simple did he think I was? “Yeah,” I said, sounding and feeling angry. “So what?”

  “All I’m saying is that things aren’t always the way they look at first.” He shrugged and took a sip from his glass.

  “That’s it?” I said. I couldn’t believe it. “That’s all you have to say?”

  Dan set the glass down. “Until you cool off and have a chance to think this over, I guess it is,” he answered.

  I stood up, furious. What was there to think over? I could feel how red my face was. I was conscious of my hands and legs shaking, and my heart beating way too fast. I knew how I must look to Dirty Dan, and that only made everything worse.

  In my mind I was shouting, Until I cool off? What’s that supposed to mean? Until I’m as cool, no, as cold-blooded as you? I wanted to say, You let people call you the Tarpon Man, Mr. Catch-and-Release Fisherman, but maybe you never noticed—it’s a little hard to release something after it has a bullet through its brain!

  That was what I wanted to say. It was what I should have said. It was what I would have said if I’d had any guts. Instead I stood there for a moment, sputtering mad, while Dirty Dan sat in his chair with an expression on his face that I couldn’t read.

  Then I tore open the door of the camper and ran out, nearly tripping on the cinder-block step as I made my escape. Blink was just coming across the yard from Larry’s, his face smeared with pizza sauce. The happy grin fell from his face as I pushed on by.

  “Uh-oh,” I heard him say. His voice rose in the high, panicky way it did when he sensed trouble. “Uh-oh, Blinky. Skeet’s mad now. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Oh, boy.”

  I could have stopped to tell him not to worry, that I wasn’t mad at him. But I didn’t do that, either. I got into the car and slammed the door shut. Memaw looked at me questioningly, but I didn’t explain and she didn’t press me.

  When we got home, I headed to my room.

  “Not hungry?” Memaw asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I expect you’ve got some thinking to do,” she said.

  I nodded.

  “If you feel like company, I’ll be right here,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said dully, though I was thankful that she knew when to leave a person alone.

  Lying on my bed, I stared at the ceiling while I went over and over my meeting with Dirty Dan. There was one thing he had said that I had to admit was true: things really aren’t always the way they look at first. For years, I had thought Dan was a hero.

  Fifteen

  It was Sunday morning, the last day of spring break. I lay in bed, thinking that this vacation had brought both the best and the worst days of my life. I felt tired, and I hadn’t even gotten up yet. When I remembered that it was also the last day to do my stupid assignment for English, I pulled the pillow over my head and wriggled down farther under the covers.

  Mom knocked, then came in and sat on the end of my bed. “Morning, sweetie,” she said. “You were already asleep when I got home last night.”

  “Yeah. I was zonked.” I wondered whether Memaw had told her about Dirty Dan. If so, maybe Mom was going to tell me what I should do.

  But what she said was, “I have to go into work again, Skeet. I can’t believe it. Veronica is still claiming to be sick, and I’ve got no one else to cover for her. I was hoping we could do something together today, something special, since I’ve hardly seen you this past week.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “It isn’t okay, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said with a sigh. Then, giving me a wistful little smile, she asked, “So, what are your plans for the day?”

  “I don’t know.” Boy, was that the truth.

  “Well, Memaw will be around if you need anything. I should be able to get out at five o’clock, if nothing else goes wrong.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, Skeet?” She looked down at her lap for a minute, then raised her eyes to meet mine. “About what you overheard me saying to your father the other morning? When he gets back from the Keys, we’ll all three talk about it, all right?”

  I shrugged. She wasn’t really asking me, so I didn’t really answer.

  She leaned over to pat my leg under the covers. “Until then, you just try not to worry about it.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  “No matter what happens, your father and I both love you more than anything.”

>   “I know. But—”

  “But what, honey?”

  “Don’t you love Mac anymore?”

  She sighed. “It’s not that simple, Skeet. I think he’s a good person. It’s just hard for me to live with him. We’re so different. I’m sure you can see that.”

  “Well, yeah. But that’s the way you’ve always been. Why does everything have to change all of a sudden?”

  Mom sighed. “It’s not really all of a sudden. It’s— Well, it’s very complicated.” She tried unsuccessfully to smile.

  I swung my legs off the bed and got to my feet, tired of questions nobody could answer. Mom sat on the bed for a minute, looking as if she wanted to say more. Then she, too, got up. I went to the kitchen and she went to her room to get dressed for work.

  Memaw was at the stove when I walked in. “I’m in the mood for bacon, Skeet, how about you?”

  The smell coming from the sizzling pan was tantalizing. I remembered I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before. “You bet!” I said.

  “I knew I could count on you, Skeet. I don’t know how your mama eats that hamster food she calls cereal every morning. She says it’s good for her cholesterol, but I’m not sure a human body is meant to digest twigs and pellets. I like a breakfast with a little flavor myself. How about we have some eggs to go with this?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Fried or scrambled?”

  “Fried, sunny-side up.”

  “You got it, mister. Now, if you’ll put some of that bread in the toaster and pour us some orange juice, we’ll be all set.”

  We were just digging in when Mom came through the kitchen to say goodbye. After we heard her car pull out of the driveway, I asked Memaw about something that had been troubling me. “Memaw, what would happen to Blink if Dan had to go to jail?”

  She seemed to consider this while she sopped up the last of her egg with a piece of toast. “Why, I don’t really know. I imagine Blink would get sent to some sort of facility where they care for people like him.”

  “Would they let him keep Blinky at a place like that?” I asked.