by Amie Denman
“We’re up, Jazz.” Mary Doris had a first grader by the life-jacket straps in each hand. I pivoted and saw the waiting boat. Of course.
“Is this the payout from the auction?” Not that I really thought so. Considering that Kurt stood behind the wheel of the fireboat grinning from ear to ear, I had a hard time believing for a moment that he’d been coerced.
“Nope,” Sister Mary Alice said, “he volunteered. We still own three hundred dollars worth of him.” She giggled and I tried to distract the kids before they noticed anything weird about the situation.
“Lucky fishes on board,” I called.
Kurt picked up a little girl and swung her onto the boat. He held out a hand to me next. “Lucky fishes?”
“All the chaperone groups are fishes,” I explained. “You know, St. Peter…”
“And yours are lucky?”
“The happy fishes, super fishes, silly fishes and pretty fishes were all taken. I’ll settle for lucky ones.”
“Which group does Clark have?”
“The stingrays.”
“I see,” Kurt said. He swung another three kids on board and checked their life-jacket straps. “Lucky fishes it is.”
“I’m hoping the luck will wear off on me,” I muttered, thinking Kurt couldn’t hear me over the rumble of the engine.
“You deserve some good luck.” He locked eyes with me and I practiced the fine art of resisting temptation. Right there in front of all the lucky fishes.
Kurt piloted the boat smoothly away from the dock then stopped halfway across the river. He left the boat running, but threw down the anchor.
“Ready for some of that fun I promised you?” he asked Sister Mary Doris.
“Born ready,” she said.
He turned a few knobs, gave her some directions and stepped back. Mary Doris had her hands on the water cannon and a devilish gleam in her eye. She swung around, aimed the cannon across the river and let loose with a solid stream of water. Kurt blew the siren on the boat for added effect. I’ll admit I loved it.
The kids rushed to the front of the boat to watch the spectacle. Mary Doris hooted like a NASCAR fan with season passes as she sprayed water recklessly into the center of the river. Mary Alice giggled and hugged the nearest child. And then we all came back to earth.
As Mary Doris stepped away from the cannon and the water droplets slowly settled out of the air, a nearby boat became visible. The boat hadn’t been there fifteen seconds earlier. At least we’d swear that we hadn’t seen it. We waited for a giant whale to swallow us all and drag us down to a much-deserved hellish fate. Because, standing there dripping miserably on the open deck of the police boat, were Old Lady Clark and five soggy stingrays.
“Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” Sister Mary Alice whispered.
“It was fun while it lasted,” Sister Mary Doris said.
We were all a little afraid to dock on the other side of the river and face the wrath of Clark. But we put on a brave face. For the children.
Clark stalked over to Kurt as soon as he tied up the fireboat. Her hair was damp and curly, and a stream of water squelched out of her shoes.
“See those men over there?” she asked him.
“Uh-huh. Looks like they’re mapping something out.” He squinted at the far end of the park near the abandoned boat factory. “I think they’re measuring something.”
“I think they’re surveyors,” she said, her face grim.
“The old factory?” he asked.
Clark shook her head. “They’re in the park.”
I wanted to ask for an instant replay. Not only was Clark not going to kill us over the water cannon incident, but she appeared absorbed in something other than strong-arming her group of stingrays. Weird. And how the heck did she seem to know Kurt so well? I tried to see the other side of the park where the men were working.
Unluckily for my sleuthing, one of my little fishes managed to get her sturdy brown Catholic school shoe wedged between the boat and the dock. Her screaming hit notes the church organist could only dream of. Even with a quick glance, I saw that she would end up wet unless we acted fast. I got to her first and held on tight while Kurt dislodged the tiny foot. By the time it was over, Clark had already pursued the stingrays across the grass just in case they were considering making a break for it under cover of the distraction.
Kurt left with the fireboat, but promised to come back for me and the lucky fishes later in the day. I think Sisters Mary Alice and Doris were hoping for a return trip on the fireboat too. Unless Clark punished them by making them row back. Or making them walk the plank.
The sun warm on my shoulders, I wandered behind my lucky fishes on the way to join the rest of the school. Any day outside was better than being in the classroom. Or trapped in a closet in the mayor’s office. Mary Doris trooped along beside me dragging an enormous plastic tub on wheels. I was breathing fast, but she didn’t even break a sweat.
“Games and athletic equipment,” she explained. “Just in case anyone gets bored.”
Good thinking, but I didn’t foresee much chance of boredom. The park was huge and full of opportunities for fun. A local community group had raised the money for a giant play structure that was now crawling with kids. There were two tennis courts, a basketball court and lots of gravel paths and trails. The park itself was a messy triangular shape with the river on one long side and the lake on another. Its short side butted up against the ugly abandoned boat factory.
Technically, the city-owned park was only accessible by water. But everyone in town used the neglected access road and parked in the dilapidated parking lot vacated by the boat factory. No one seemed to mind, and from what I understood, it had been going on for a long time. Now, though, heavy construction equipment blocked off the entrance to the old factory and several of the smaller buildings were being torn down. The big central building was still untouched. Our field trip was forced into going by boat, but it made it more fun anyway. Especially if it meant I got to ride with hottie fireman.
We played games with the kids until lunchtime. Mary Alice recruited some of the sixth graders to hand out lunches while I helped get everyone settled in their chaperone groups at the long picnic tables. My lucky fishes sat at the same table with the stingrays, and I ended up sharing the edge of the table with Old Lady Clark.
I watched her pull out a tuna sandwich on white bread, two green apples and a thermos of coffee. My jelly sandwich, Goldfish crackers and Diet Coke seemed outrageously colorful and extravagant in comparison. I glanced up, dreading her disapproval, but her attention was focused on where the park and boat factory property met. She looked over and caught me staring.
“It didn’t always look like that,” she said.
That was about the last thing I expected her to say. I nodded and tried to open my packet of Goldfish without spilling them everywhere.
“When I was a kid, it was still a thriving factory.”
I tried to calculate how long ago we were talking about. In my mind, Clark was an old lady, but it was possible she wasn’t even fifty. Sitting in the sun with her hair all curly from the water cannon, I could even imagine her being young once.
“Wonder what happened,” I said.
“Original owners died, and so did the boat building business in this area.”
“Who owns it now?”
Clark leveled me with one of her trademark stares. “Damien Cerberus.”
My heart thudded in my ears while I tried to compose a neutral face. Cerberus owned the old boat factory. And Clark obviously hated him. Not that she obviously loved anyone that I’d noticed. In a perfect world, she’d spill the whole story and tell me something useful about Cerberus that I could use in my case against the mayor. But I wasn’t brave enough to ask, probably not even brave enough to sit and listen.
The kids at our table didn’t notice. They were all absorbed in trading lunches and bad habits. And germs.
I cracked open my Diet Coke and we polished off our lunc
hes in silence. I guess she had exhausted her limit of sociability with me. And I was deathly afraid to say anything after her big revelation about Cerberus. Who could I possibly ask for more details? Marlena came to mind. I glanced across the river at the Ripple Marina. Maybe this weekend. If I managed to stay out of trouble that long.
Clark finally swung her legs over the edge of the seat and stood.
“Are you all set with the duck costume, Miss Shepherd?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” This was mostly true. All Harry had to do was glue on a few more feathers and add a tasteful sash hand-painted with the school’s name. I’d be geared up to wave in the parade and launch the rubber ducks for a good cause. I was all about sacrificing myself for good causes lately.
We let the kids run off some energy for a while after lunch, but then the flotilla started arriving for the return trip. I hoped against hope for some alone time with hottie fireman, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I was destined to share him with at least six kids and two nuns. Story of my life.
After our short trip across the river, I lingered by the dock while Kurt tied up the boat. I only had about fifteen seconds, but I was curious.
“What do you know about the abandoned boat factory?”
He glanced up at me and then went back to tying an expert knot. “I know that it’s a hazard.”
“What kind of hazard?”
“For starters, fire hazard. Lots of old varnish and paint stored there.”
“You’ve been inside?”
Kurt nodded and propped his foot on a silver cooler that had been left behind. “It’s probably not too healthy to get involved with any of that business. Or its owner.”
Even though my ability to read men hadn’t always been Nobel-prize quality, it was obvious he knew more. His reticence had been in my favor a few times, but this was one occasion I wished he was more of a blabbermouth.
“Can’t you make the owner clean it up?”
Kurt ran a finger down my arm and leaned close. “There’re lots of things I wish I could do.”
“So why don’t you?” I hoped my tone was seductive, even though a school picnic was about the stupidest time for me to attempt something I wasn’t all that good at anyway.
“For starters, we’re both on duty. And—” he gestured farther up the dock, “—I think Sister Mary Alice is trying to get your attention.”
I stepped back. “The cooler.” I reached for the handle and Kurt took his foot down. “Mary Alice takes lunch very seriously.”
Chapter Twelve
“Good last day of school?” Harry asked on Thursday afternoon. He looked closely at my face. “No tear tracks.”
“Like I’m going to miss my students. I’ll be seeing them all at the festival.”
“I considered inviting your parents to the parade to watch you in your ducky splendor.”
Harry had worked for my parents for several years and they were close. My brother Gerry was away on the seven-year college plan, so Harry was like a son to them. Who also happened to be a floral designer.
God help me. My parents driving the twenty-five miles to Bluegill to watch me wave in the parade was about the only thing that could make it any worse. “You didn’t, did you?”
“Nope. I decided they’ve already suffered enough from your antics.”
“Like what?”
“Divorcing and decamping. No grandchildren except for that cat of yours. General unluckiness. And I didn’t even get a chance to tell them about the law enforcement on your tail lately.”
I looped my schoolbag over the hook in the entryway. “Wanna go out to dinner?”
“I’m thinking festival. It’s opening night and the corn dogs will be fresh.”
“And the carnies,” I said.
“Something for everyone.”
We drove together into Bluegill and found a parking spot on the street not far from the festival’s center on the river near Ripple Marina. I still wore my casual last-day-of-school clothes. Harry wore a black T-shirt and faded jeans. I thought he looked quite handsome. Of course, I also knew what he was probably not wearing under those jeans.
We walked around checking out the food vendor wagons for a little while, but then Harry got distracted. Somewhere between the Giant Wheel of Fun and the Rotating Rollers, I lost him.
I wandered toward the beer tent. Not that I planned to get loaded where students and parents could see me, but the food and picnic tables were near the beer arena. Orange plastic snow fence marked off the official drinking zone. As usual, I would be just outside the fun.
As I waited in line for a corn dog and waffle fries, I glanced at the people already enjoying the sweet abandon of the annual festival. Marlena stood by one of the picnic tables inside the orange fence. Her hair was spiked, her jeans skintight and she had a beer in each hand. Sherman was finishing his turn at the karaoke microphone. Nothing like a one-eyed, bald man singing a song about pirates. Although from where I stood, he sounded surprisingly good. Marlena and Sherman were quickly becoming my role models. If I lived through the next week, I planned to start acting a whole lot more like them.
I was only two people from the front of the corn dog line when I felt breathing on the back of my neck.
“Did you get my flowers?”
The voice in my ear took the edge off my hunger and made my stomach lurch.
“I did.” I faced Cerberus and gave him a congenial smile. “They were really beautiful. But you didn’t need to send them.”
“Does that mean you’d already decided to take me up on my offer?”
I guess you could read it that way, I thought. Especially if you were an arrogant jackass like Damien Cerberus.
I nodded. He could take that as a yes.
“So I guess I have a lot to look forward to next weekend.” He slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close as he spoke.
In addition to being totally grossed out by his mere presence, I was also in a serious predicament. It was my turn to order and the giant woman in line behind me didn’t look like she had much patience. I had to order or get out of line.
I cleared my throat and attempted to disengage myself from Damien. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime this weekend. My cousin is waiting for me right now.” A lie, but a useful one.
“Next weekend you’ll be all mine,” he said. And then he slipped past the scowling woman behind me and disappeared into the crowd.
Putting on my game face, I ordered a solitary corn dog and fries. I started to feel very lonely as I waited by the napkin dispenser for my share of fat and grease. When my order came up, I made my way back to the picnic tables by the beer tent and plunked down alone at a table.
I tried to think happy thoughts. School was out. The nauseating boat ho job was still a week away and anything could happen to prevent me from going. For example, the mayor could arrange for me to die in a fiery accident. Or Clark could kill me with one of her dragon glances. At least there was consolation in knowing that Sisters Mary Alice and Doris would make sure I got the kind of funeral that would launch me into heaven. And Harry would inherit all my clothes and jewelry.
I took a bite of corn dog and waited for a miracle to happen. The grease was good, but the real magic appeared in the form of two lemonades hitting the table. And hottie fireman squeezing onto the seat next to me. Thigh to thigh.
“I hope you’re not saving this seat for anybody,” he said.
I tried to chew and swallow my corn dog with as much dignity as possible.
“Should’ve looked first,” I said. “You’re probably sitting in something sticky right now.”
“Too early,” Kurt said. “I’ve been to this festival every year of my life. Thursday night dinner is still family friendly.”
“You’ve always lived in Bluegill?”
He took two of my fries and dipped them in my little pool of ketchup. It was so personal. I loved it.
“Yep. And since I was the baby brother, it was my
siblings’ problem to keep me out of trouble.”
“At the festival?”
He chewed slowly and then grinned. “In general.”
“How’d they do?”
“Probably about as well as yours. Assuming you’re the youngest.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Middle child. Gerry is the oldest, Rose and Daisy are two years younger.”
“Twins?”
I nodded.
“And named after flowers. Just like you.”
“And Gerry. He got lucky with geranium. Could’ve been a whole lot worse.”
“My brothers and sisters got all the saints’ names.”
“I’ve heard.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. “You have?”
“I don’t hide at church all the time.”
“Where have you been hiding all year?” he asked. “And what made you move to Bluegill last summer?”
I sipped my lemonade and hoped the coolness would make me braver.
“My cousin lives here.”
“And?”
“And I got the job at St. Peter’s.”
“And?”
“And I needed a job and a place to live.”
I knew I wasn’t really pulling it off, and I couldn’t hide behind my corndog much longer. I tried to make myself say the words, but I hadn’t been very good at facing up to my ex-disasters. I stared at the ice cubes in my lemonade, hoping a message would appear.
“Sorry,” Kurt said.
I turned my head and met his eyes. “Don’t be. It’s a fair question.”
I took a long drink and tried to imagine it was one of Marlena’s margaritas.
“My husband of a whopping two years cheated on me.”
“Oh.”
“With my coworkers. Several of them.”
