by Lyn Cote
But over the past three years, she had collected a fine assortment of junk jewelry. So on this the final day of Crazy Days, she and her two assistants sported a rainbow of gaudy, plastic bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings. Tish wore all shades of blue and purple. Mel had chosen reds and pinks, while Jane had opted for white, silver and green.
“How do you like my specs?” Jane asked, tapping her frames.
“They really do it. Whatever it is.” Rona grinned.
This year Jane had added the pièce de résistance, three pairs of fifties-style glasses, without lenses, that she had picked up at a flea market. The pair Jane was wearing was silver and shaped like butterfly wings and encrusted with rhinestones.
“Did you hear?” Rona asked conspiratorially.
“What?”
“The word is that after dark last night Hallawell’s crew dumped off trash at the entrance of The Shores.”
Jane made a face. “Isn’t this getting a little childish?”
“I agree. Carmine says some of Cash’s crew have had it.”
Jane shook her head. “What will be, will be.” Her words were casual, but a tremor of warning shivered through her. She sent up a silent prayer for a peaceful end to these hostilities.
Rona gestured toward the two circular racks and one table that Jane had moved outside. “Is there anything I should buy now, or should I wait till your Labor Day fifty-percentoff, final-summer-clearance sale?”
“Take a look at the swimsuits. There are a few left you might like.” Jane pressed her fingers to her temples.
Rona nodded and began intently going through the rack nearest her daughter.
“Bye, Tish. Bye, Mel.” The latest trio of teens departed.
Then two high school boys paused, obviously eyeing Tish and Mel.
I will never again hire teens to work during the summer, Jane vowed silently. “May I help you gentlemen find something?” she asked pointedly.
“Uh, no, just looking.” The youngest of the two blushed. They left quickly. Tish gave their backs a look that stated they weren’t in her league, anyway.
Carnival music from the nearby park floated to them. The band at the Wildcat ‘n’ Lace, a lounge restaurant across the street competed with the carnival’s taped calliope music. Every time its door swung in or out, rock music with an overpowering bass pounded, giving a throbbing background beat to the evening’s atmosphere. The painful pulsing at Jane’s temples picked up the same rhythm. She observed a few of the carpenters and a plasterer who worked for Cash go into the lounge.
A sudden gust of wind tossed dust up. Jane sneezed.
“Bless you, my dear,” Lucy said.
“Grandmother! Where did you come from?”
“I planned my route carefully, so I could sneak up on you.” Lucy had “dressed” for Crazy Days. This annual event always sparked her wearing of an outrageous lime-green-and-white sundress from the seventies.
“How long will this dress last you?” Jane asked, shaking her head.
“I know. It’s so delightfully atrocious I look forward to wearing it every year! I can’t help it if I’m still crazy after all these years. And you should talk! Look at those glasses!”
Jane posed artfully. “I think I should have worn them for the portrait, don’t you?”
“What portrait?” Tish asked, standing at Jane’s elbow.
“Never you mind, young lady,” Lucy said primly. “Jane, please have someone take a picture of you in those. My cousin Dulcy had a pair just like that in 1953. I’d love to send a photo to her of you wearing them.”
Tish turned her back and walked away.
Jane rolled her eyes. “I’ll try, but I won’t promise.”
“All right. But getting back to business, I really came in to settle some of the final arrangements for your parents’ party. We only have a little over a week, you know.”
“I know.” The wind gusted again, and Jane winced at the escalating ache at the top of her skull.
Lucy frowned at the sky. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re going to get another storm tonight.”
“I’d bet money on it,” Rona said, stepping close to Lucy. “Here, Jane, I’ll take this one. Would you put it on my account?”
In a loud stage whisper to Jane, Lucy said, “I don’t think I would let her charge anything. She looks shifty to me.”
Jane smiled and took the mocha-brown-and-tan swimsuit from Rona. Sitting back down at the card table, she began writing out a receipt.
“What. did you decide on for the entree for Phil and Marge’s anniversary party?” Rona asked Lucy. “Veal picotta or prime rib?”
“I decided on the prime rib. I really wanted crab linguini, but I decided to be traditional. My son would prefer straight steak and potatoes.”
Jane handed Rona her receipt and bagged the suit.
“Jane, you’ll be asking Cash to be your escort, won’t you?” Rona asked.
Jane frowned. Her neck tightened another degree.
“Oh!” Rona put a hand to her mouth. “I did it again, didn’t I? Stuck my nose into your business. On that note, I’ll move on.” Rona walked briskly away.
As Jane’s gaze followed Rona walking down the street, she saw three men who worked for Hallawell push their way into the lounge across the street.
Voices from behind made her look over her shoulder. Two tall high school boys had stopped to chat with Tish. Mel, with naked envy in her eyes, glared at them. Jane turned back to her grandmother. She told Lucy in an undertone, “I don’t know how much more I can stand of ‘cruising’ teens. There were a few earlier, but tonight since around six, it’s been an endless teen parade.”
“In the future I suggest you don’t hire such pretty girls,” Lucy murmured. “A pot of honey can’t help attracting bees.”
Jane nodded glumly.
“I’m glad you turned Angie over to your parents for the evening. They are enjoying her to the hilt. I think they took her on the merry-go-round five times.”
“I’m glad they were able to come up early this weekend. It’s so nice they could take a turn with Angie. I always feel like I ask you too often—”
“Tut, tut, my dear. She’s an angel and you know it. But I’ll be off now. I haven’t had my venison burger yet this year and I never miss it. I do so love telling all my. vegetarian friends about it. It drives them crazy!” With a wave of her hand, Lucy walked briskly away.
Jane waved in return and sighed.
“Bye.” The latest males took their farewell of Tish. Jane watched Mel’s eyes crackle dangerously with jealousy and wondered when the next Mel-Tish spat would begin.
Then she looked down the street and saw Uncle Henry and Aunt Claire, heading straight for her. Jane put her head in her hands, moaning inwardly.
“Hi, Jane,” Uncle Henry launched the duet.
“We wanted to stop by—” Aunt Claire put in.
“And warn you that a severe weather watch—”
“Is in effect—”
“Till 10:00 p.m.,” Uncle Henry finished triumphantly.
Jane’s eyes widened. How did they do it? Did they practice at home in front of a mirror?
Jane swallowed, then replied, “The wind has changed direction, and we’ve been getting strong gusts, too.”
Claire and Henry asked in unison, “Where’s Leticia?”
“She had to go to the bathroom,” Mel answered. She folded her hands together and a half dozen plastic, bangle bracelets slid down her arms and clanked loudly together at her wrists.
“Your jewelry is quite striking,” Claire said.
Jane smiled at the pun her aunt had uttered without realizing it.
“Thanks,” Mel said, making the bracelets slide and clack again on her arms.
“Well, we have to be moving on—” Henry began their last comments.
“We haven’t bought our Aquarama tickets yet This might be our—”
“Year to win the boat!” The two hurried away toward the raffle booth
.
After they had gone, Mel said, “Tish wanted to try for Aquarama queen this year, and her mom and dad wouldn’t let her. That’s why she wouldn’t stay out here. She’s not talking to them.”
Jane shook her head.
Mel went on without encouragement. “They said she had to wait till she was a junior at least. Is she ever mad!”
“I’m sure waiting a year won’t harm Tish’s chances.”
“Yeah, but she’s still mad.”
Tish came outside then. Jane told the girls to check the racks to see if any sizes had been moved into the wrong places. After her uncle’s warning, Jane now noticed placards on the racks, windows and tables begin to flap ominously.
Jane scanned the twilight sky. In another half hour it would be dark, and she could close up. At 10:00 p.m. there would be the Aquarama draw, which was the yearly boat raffle, and then the crowning of the Aquarama Queen, the girl who had sold the most raffle tickets. This year, at least, Tish would not be crowned.
At the far end of the block, Jane caught sight of Hallawell, sauntering in her direction. When he turned into the entrance of a men’s shop, Jane excused herself and escaped inside the shop for a few moments of peace. Her headache by now was firmly entrenched. She took two aspirin, then reluctantly forced herself back outside.
The wild wind had gotten worse. Along the gutter across the street, an aluminum pop can skittered, making quick, metallic taps against the concrete curb, giving a sound to the wind. A little boy ran after the can, but the wind pushed it faster than he could run. His mother caught up with him. With an eye to the sky, she swung him up in her arms and called to his father.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. A flicker of lightning to the west caught the corner of her eye. “We may be moving in on short notice,” she said to Mel and Tish, glancing at her watch. “It’s only twenty minutes to closing. We’ll see if we can stay open till then.”
Mel nodded. Tish sighed and leaned back against the store window.
“Jane!” Lucy walked quickly toward Jane. “That weather looks threatening. The carnival is shutting down. I heard one of the carneys say they’d had too many nights end up with them tying everything down in an electrical storm.”
“Don’t worry, Grandmother. It will only take us three minutes to roll this stuff inside.”
Lucy waved farewell and hurried by them.
After her grandmother was out of sight, Jane turned again toward the western horizon. The sunset clouds were deep purple and gray; the final rays of the sun were losing the battle to the surging clouds of the new front.
“Jane!” Tish said sharply.
She turned to see Cash, hurrying toward the lounge across the street Tish didn’t need to say more. An uneasy acknowledgment niggled in Jane’s mind, too. Construction workers from both crews and now Cash were all in the same lounge on a Friday night, and a storm was coming.
Jane looked into her cousin’s eyes and saw worry there, too. Tish’s concern touched Jane unexpectedly. It was the first time she could remember ever feeling close to Tish. She reached out and took Tish’s hand.
Tish pointed with her free hand.
Jane followed the direction just in time to see the back of Roger Hallawell going into the Wildcat ‘n’ Lace. “It’s as dark as the black hole of Calcutta in there. Maybe they won’t even see each other.” Dear Lord, make it so. She squeezed Tish’s hand and was surprised to feel Tish return the pressure.
“Jane! I’m closing now!” the pharmacist across the street called to her. “I think this one’s moving in fast!”
To save herself from shouting over the wind, she waved to him. “Girls, that does it. If conservative Tim is closing up, we are, too.” She motioned Tish to roll in the first rack nearest the door.
She went over to get the cash register herself. Carrying it inside, she put it back in its usual spot on the counter. Mel came in with the second rack of clothing. Jane went back out to help Tish carry in the table of scarves and accessories. One scarf fell from the table top, but never reached the sidewalk. It flew up high and away. As the three of them moved quickly, their junk jewelry bracelets clacked together up and down their arms, but now they could barely hear the bracelets above the wind. After the tables were inside, Jane went out to check if anything had been left behind in their rush.
Loud shouts caught her attention, and she turned in time to see a man propelled out the door of the Wildcat. He stumbled backward and fell heavily onto the cement sidewalk. Jane took a few steps forward as though going to his aid.
But immediately on his heels came another two men: one of Hallawell’s and one of Cash’s carpenters. They were brawling. Jane sucked in her breath.
More fighters poured out of the entrance. The music blared onto the street. The wind picked up the sound and tossed it high. Jane watched as six more men came out, slugging. Some were construction workers, but not all.
“Look! Cash!” Tish exclaimed right next to Jane’s ear. Glancing to each side, Jane realized she was flanked by both girls.
“And Mister Hallawell,” Mel said with satisfaction.
In horror, Jane watched Hallawell and the plasterer exchanging punches. Cash was hovering beside them yelling at them both.
Jane took another step forward, but was halted by Tish’s hand, gripping her elbow. “No, you could be hurt.” Again, Jane felt the tie of family to Tish. She put her hand over Tish’s and nodded.
Vaguely Jane thought that Tish’s and Mel’s parents would prefer that their daughters not be witnesses to this brawl on Main Street. But she could think of no way to force them back inside, and she could not make herself go in, either. Her pulse pounded in her ears, making it hard to concentrate. She tried to pray, but all she could whisper was “Cash, Cash…”
The ruckus continued. More and more people streamed out of the lounge, some fighting, some just trying to get clear. Men cradled their arms around dates. Some pushed aside fighting pairs to make way for themselves. Through it all, the pounding beat of the band never faltered.
Though completely ignored, Cash continued yelling at the brawlers and moving around the fighting men, who now filled a good portion of the street in front of the lounge. He returned to the plasterer who was still mauling Hallawell. Cash shouted at his man and dodged a stray punch. “Stop right now!” The words came across to Jane on a violent gust of wind.
The strident sirens of the sheriff’s cars came in blasts on the buffeting wind that was tossing up dust and paper refuse. Jane shaded her eyes from the force of the wind, but stood her ground.
The fighters did not slow down till the police cars came around a barricade and pulled up right in the midst of them. The sheriff and two deputies tumbled out of their cars and began shouting at the men. The sirens were off, but the red lights on top of both cars continued rotating, giving a peculiarly wicked cast to the darkening Main Street.
The next blast of wind was like a strong hand, pushing against the three females huddled together in front of the shop. Jane looked up and realized that the red lights were only part of the flashes around her. Lightning crackled in the nearly night sky.
Suddenly the band across the street ceased. But the thunder kept its own beat. Then, in one great wave, the rain sluiced over them. Jane heard herself and her girls shriek in surprise. They turned and ran inside the shop, dripping wet and suddenly chilled.
Once inside, though, they could not help themselves. They all turned back to watch the police cleaning up the brawl. In the end the sheriff left with Cash, Hallawell and about three other men in the two police cars.
Chapter Ten
A half hour after the brawl on Main Street, Jane pulled into the police station parking lot. Outside, the storm center had moved on, but though the wind, thunder and lightning had passed by, rain still fell steadily. Since she was already soaked to the skin, she didn’t bother to hurry to the sheriff’s office door.
The sheriff wasn’t sitting at his desk as he’d been that night over a mo
nth ago when she and Cash had come to deal with the would-be vandals. She looked around restlessly. Being here again unsettled her stomach. When she heard Cash and the sheriff coming out, she turned to meet Cash’s eyes, but instead encountered Roger Hallawell’s flushed face. Jane stiffened uncomfortably.
Then she heard the sheriff’s voice from the hallway. “I’ve had it with both of you.”
Hallawell’s face reddened a shade darker at these words. The sheriff stepped through the doorway. Cash followed. His disheveled clothing was out of character, and she noted that his lower lip was split and swollen. She tamped down a swell of concern for him. She was here as a friend—nothing more.
“Here to post bail, Miss Everett?” The sheriff grinned.
“Do I need to?” she asked.
“We’ll see. It depends.”
“On?” She leaned forward against the counter, intrigued by the sheriffs determined tone.
He pointed at Cash and Hallawell. “It’s up to these two.”
Hallawell interrupted, “If you’re not pressing charges, I’m leaving—”
“If I charge you, you’ll live to regret it.” The sheriff, folding his arms over his chest, braced his back against the wall. “Now, I figured the tension between you two would build till everything came to a head. This brawl is the final episode in this little soap opera. Hallawell, you’re here to stay, Langley’s here to stay, and I’m out of patience.”
Hallawell started to bluster, but the sheriff cut him off. “I’m going to explain how it’s going to be. You two are going to shake hands and agree to disagree.”
“I’m all in favor,” Cash said.
“Yeah, what have you got to lose?” Hallawell asked with a sneer.
The sheriff made eye contact with Hallawell. “Let’s talk about what you’ve got to lose.”
“So what have I got to lose?” Hallawell demanded.
The sheriff pushed away from the wall. “My cooperation.”
A tense silence gripped the quiet room. Desultory traffic sounds from the outside made no impression on the three men.
