Mobbed

by Carol Higgins Clark

  The obnoxious kids laughed again, louder than ever. Dizzy ignored them. He threw the empty bottle in the sand, and leaned back on his elbow. His sons were splashing in the water, having the time of their lives. Like Monique, they were dark-haired and tanned easily. Not like Dizzy, whose pale skin got splotchy and red when he stood near a window. At least my boys are having fun, he thought. A lot more than I did at their age.

  Thirty years ago, when Dizzy was in the first grade, his classmates had come up with his nickname. Rufus Spells became Dizzy Spells. Rufus told himself that he didn’t mind. Dizzy sounded a lot cooler than Rufus. But the fact that Rufus was a bit klutzy ensured that the nickname stuck. He had always been good-natured about it, until Cleo Paradise decided to imitate him in that movie. He seethed at the thought. She’d turned his whole life into a joke. Now he wasn’t only Dizzy, he was the “Dizzy Super Super.”

  She had some nerve imitating my walk, my mannerisms, the way I stick my tongue out when I’m hard at work. She was tiny but managed to master my clumsy gait. After the movie was released, everyone Dizzy knew realized she had used him for inspiration. After all, Dizzy was the superintendent of her building in Los Angeles.

  I wish I’d never been nice to her. I went out of my way to help her out when she overflowed the bathtub, when her shade fell down, when she needed someone to hang a mirror, when the battery in her fire alarm started beeping and she had no idea how to change it. What does she do in return? She makes me look like a jerk. I’d told her about how wonderful the Jersey Shore is, and how my kids love to come visit their grandparents every summer. Next thing I know, she decides to rent a house at the Jersey Shore. What next, Cleo? he wondered. I’m sick of you. You used me and made my life miserable.

  He lay back on his greasy towel and closed his eyes. The sounds of the surf, kids playing, even the lifeguard whistle, were soothing. Try and relax, he told himself. We’ll be going home soon. I won’t have to deal with Monique’s relatives again until next summer.

  He felt himself drifting off. He could hear the seagulls flying above. It was so peaceful …

  “Dizzy!” Monique screamed.

  Dizzy bolted upright. “What? What? Are the kids okay?” he asked as he got up from his towel, slipped, fell back down, then got up again. He ran toward her.

  “Yes, but look!” Monique said breathlessly, her hair dripping. She pointed up at the sky. A plane was flying overhead, dragging a sign advertising a garage sale. A sale featuring Cleo Paradise’s belongings. “Was Cleo Paradise at the Jersey Shore?” Monique asked Dizzy accusingly.

  “I don’t know,” Dizzy lied.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. What are you, crazy?”

  “It’s obvious she likes you. She was always asking you to help her in her apartment. Dizzy, I need this. Dizzy, I need that. She couldn’t change a lightbulb herself.”

  “Likes me? She made fun of me in that movie. Besides, she always gave me a good tip when I did things for her. You know that.”

  “I told you you spent too much time with her.”

  “No I didn’t!”

  “I think you secretly love the attention you’re getting from that movie. You say you don’t, but you do. It wasn’t that bad. What she did was cute and funny.”

  “I don’t love the attention!” Dizzy growled. “I’m sick of that kind of attention! I’ve had it my whole life and I’m sick of it!” His head was spinning. I really am dizzy, he thought. I can’t stand Cleo and my wife thinks I’m carrying on a secret affair with her. That woman has made my life miserable in yet another way.

  Monique’s dark eyes bore into his. “Every time you went out to get ice cream on this trip you were gone way too long.”

  Dizzy pointed at her. “That’s because your relatives are driving me crazy. I needed some space! I wanted to eat my ice cream cone in peace. Can’t you see how stressed out I am? Can’t you?”

  “You haven’t been yourself this whole month. It’s not fair to me. My relatives are good people. Good people, Dizzy. We see your nutty family in Los Angeles all the time.”

  “We see my family, but we don’t live under the same roof with them. If your cousin knocks on the door one more time when I’m taking a shower …”

  “I told you to take shorter showers. Every day we run out of hot water thanks to you.”

  Dizzy put his hands to his head. I can’t take this anymore, he thought. This is all thanks to Cleo Paradise. “Maybe I’ll just get out of your way,” he said. “I won’t use up any more of your family’s hot water!” He turned on his heel and stormed back toward their spot.

  The umbrella had fallen over.

  Dizzy barely noticed. He grabbed his shoes and his shirt and kept going.

  37

  Hey, man, take it easy,” the bulky security guard advised the two men at Edna’s front gate. “Don’t get excited …”

  Regan approached them. Cleo’s agent? she wondered. He hardly looks like the type who represents an Academy Award-nominated actress, with that ratty jacket and his scruffy hair. And that other guy doesn’t look as if he’d be part of Cleo’s world. “Did I hear you say you’re Cleo Paradise’s agent?” Regan asked.

  The older man turned to her, his face indignant. “Yes, I am,” he answered, throwing back his shoulders and straightening up. “My name is Ronald Flake, founder and president of the Flake Agency. Cleo Paradise would be nowhere without me.”

  “Got that right,” his companion muttered. “No-where.”

  “This is my son, Horace,” Ronald explained. “He accompanies me on all important business. Cleo hasn’t returned my calls. She isn’t hiding here, is she?”

  Regan shook her head. “No.”

  “Are you the owner of the house?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Is the owner here? I have some questions for her.”

  And I have some questions for you, Regan thought. “Mrs. Frawley is around back,” she informed them, introducing herself, but not mentioning her profession. “My mother is a friend of the family and is back there with her. Follow me.”

  “Very well,” Ronald said, trying to sound like a visiting dignitary.

  No one seemed to notice the hubbub surrounding the Flakes arrival. Zealous shoppers were too busy inspecting all the paraphernalia that was spread out on the lawn.

  Ronald and Horace walked through the gate, nodding to the security guard, and started to follow Regan toward the side of the house.

  “Dad, wait!” Horace ordered.

  “What?” Ronald asked impatiently as he and Regan both stopped in their tracks.

  Horace pointed. “Look at those rubber mats. And a cup holder. I could use a few things for my car—”

  “Not now!” his father snapped.

  Poor Cleo, Regan thought. These two are her front men? No wonder she’s not returning their calls.

  They continued around the side of the house. Straight back was the garage, to the right the pool house. They walked toward Nora and Edna, who were sitting in the gazebo overlooking the pool.

  “The first time I saw The Sound of Music, I told my husband I had to have a gazebo,” Edna was saying to Nora. “We went out and bought one the next day.”

  “I remember that story,” Nora said politely.

  Edna giggled. “What Karen probably never told you is that she used to come out here and dance around and sing that ‘Sixteen Going on Seventeen’ song. You know the one that I mean?”

  Karen would kill you if she heard this, Nora thought as she nodded. “Of course! It was a great scene in the movie. The oldest Von Trapp daughter and her boyfriend are singing to each other in the gazebo, then it starts to rain …”

  “Exactly! Karen was so cute, dancing and singing, wishing that one day she’d have a boyfriend who would sing to her like that, who wanted to take care of her.” Edna then rolled her eyes. “So who’s the first boy she brings back here? A kid named Fish. Suited his personality. Believe me, there was no sing
ing. Oh, here comes Regan …”

  Edna stood as Regan approached, followed by two men who were lagging behind. They don’t look so suave, Edna thought, but it’s always nice to have male company.

  Ronnie Flake eyed the sparkling blue pool, a beach ball floating whimsically on its surface. His jaw tightened as he took in the lush greenery, the brightly colored flowers, the beautiful backyard that would look better when all the junk and shoppers were cleared out.

  “Cleo could never have afforded to stay here if it weren’t for you, Pops,” Horace whispered. “She didn’t have two nickels to rub together when you met her.”

  “I know it. Your mother and I didn’t go on vacation this year to save a few dollars. She would have liked coming down here for the day.” He shook his head. “She would have liked to sit in that outside thing like those two ladies, and have her beer.”

  “That’s a gazebo,” Horace informed him.

  “Who do we have here?” Edna called as the two men walked around the diving board.

  “Let me introduce the Flakes,” Regan said. “Ronald and his son, Horace. Ronald is Cleo’s agent.”

  “You’re Cleo’s agent?” Edna repeated, as she shook his hand. Was he here to collect Cleo’s things? she wondered nervously. Too late. Her stuff is all gone.

  “Yes, I am her agent. I must have a talk with you.”

  “Please have a seat,” Edna said. “Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like water?” she asked, indicating the pitcher and glasses on a little wicker table in front of her. “It’s such a hot day.”

  “No beverage. This is business,” Ronald answered, trying to sound important.

  Nora looked at Regan. “If this is private …”

  “No!” Edna said. “Stay. Everyone sit down.”

  Edna’s protest and the look on Regan’s face froze Nora in place.

  Whew, Regan thought as she sat next to Horace, whose short-sleeved nylon shirt was sweat stained under the arms. His moccasins were worn out, his cheap white pants sporting what looked like a fresh coffee stain. No wonder he wanted that cup holder, she thought.

  “Where is Cleo Paradise?” Ronald blurted, his tone rude.

  Edna’s hospitable expression disappeared in an instant. “How should I know?” she answered haughtily.

  “She rented your house, didn’t she?” Horace demanded, as though that were a good enough reason for Edna to keep track of Cleo’s whereabouts.

  “Yes, she did, and she left.”

  “You say she left to do a movie?” Horace asked accusingly.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Edna answered. “Cleo left a note stating she was off to do a movie. That’s all I know.”

  Horace stood and stepped toward her. “Listen, lady,” he said, pointing his finger threateningly. “You know and you’re not telling us. Cleo hasn’t answered my father’s calls. She can’t sign a contract for another movie without him! Tell us where she went!”

  Regan stood and moved toward him. “Horace, you’d better—”

  Horace swung around, bumping into the table. “I’d better what?” he demanded as the pitcher and glasses crashed to the floor.

  Edna screamed and lifted up her feet.

  “You’d better get out of here!” Regan shouted into his face as the security guard manning the back lawn came running over, quickly followed by the guard from the front gate. They grabbed the Flakes by their necks and, despite the father’s and son’s loud protests, escorted them off the premises.

  The three women followed.

  “Well,” Edna said breathlessly as she and Regan and Nora watched the Flakes get thrown out the front gate. “At least I got my money’s worth out of those guards. They’re such nice fellows, aren’t they?”

  38

  In the office at the Log Cabin resort, Gordy was feeling a little bummed. Bummed and jealous. He had found Miss Long’s bathing suit, brought it up to her cabin, and hung it on the line when she didn’t answer the door. And Dirk wouldn’t let him take any credit. I should have left a note, he thought. Now she’ll never know what I did for her. If I tell her I’ll get in trouble. But what did she think when she saw it there on the line? Wasn’t she surprised?

  Right now she and Dirk are splashing around the lake together, Gordy thought. I wish I’d paid more attention to her when she checked in last Saturday morning. It was so early and I was tired and talking on the phone. Then one of the groundskeepers had taken her in the golf cart up to her cabin and that’s the last I saw of her. To the best of Gordy’s knowledge, Miss Long had hardly emerged since. Except of course when I try and do a good deed and hope to see her. It’s then she’s out for a jog.

  Gordy had peeked out the window when Dirk and Miss Long headed across the parking lot together. She sure was cute. And closer to my age than Dirk’s, Gordy thought. She can’t be more than twenty-two or twenty-three. I’m seventeen and Dirk is already thirty-two. He’s too old for her! Gordy had worked at the resort all summer. It didn’t seem like his boss dated much, but he sure seems to have taken a shine to Miss Long.

  I could kick myself, Gordy thought. When I went up there this morning, she didn’t open the door because she wasn’t dressed, but she sounded so sweet. Then I had to joke that it reminded me of when my mother had curlers in her hair and didn’t want to be seen. How dumb was that! She must think I’m a complete nerd.

  Sighing, Gordy looked up at the clock. He realized that it was almost time to leave. On Thursday afternoons, he volunteered at a day camp for underprivileged kids. The camp had a special program where teenaged volunteers like Gordy showed up once a week, played baseball with the boys and girls, had dinner with them, followed by a campfire where they all sang and told stories. Everyone went home by nine. Thursday was the only late night at the camp and the kids loved it. Sometimes Gordy would bring his computer and give lessons on how to use search engines for schoolwork. Gordy willingly admitted he was a techno geek. His mother always teased him about it. Gordy, she’d say, when I was growing up we had one phone—a landline—and no call-waiting or caller ID. If Aunt Jessie sat on the phone all night, blabbing with her boyfriend, no one could get through. We didn’t have computers, or cell phones … It was a different world.

  It must have been horrible, Gordy thought. If there was a new gadget on the market, he would buy it the day it came out. With his own hard-earned money.

  I’ve really got to go soon, Gordy realized. But Dirk wasn’t back yet and Gordy always talked to him before he left for the day. Dirk was funny like that. If you left without saying goodbye, he’d get insulted.

  “Mrs. Briggs?” Gordy called out to the woman who worked in the back office paying the bills and organizing the paperwork.

  “Yes, Gordy,” she answered.

  “I have to go soon. It’s Thursday.”

  “I know that, dear.”

  “Dirk isn’t back yet. I don’t know if I should leave.”

  “Why don’t you give him a call?”

  “He’s down swimming.”

  “I know that, dear. But if he’s not actually in the lake, he’ll answer his cell phone.”

  “Okay.” Gordy picked up the phone and dialed his boss.

  Dirk answered after two rings.

  “Dirk?”

  “Yes, Gordy.”

  “It’s time for me to leave. I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Okay, Gordy, that’s fine. I had a little mishap.”

  “What?” Gordy asked quickly.

  “I think I sprained my ankle. Miss Long helped me back to my cabin.”

  “You and Miss Long are at your cabin?” Gordy asked, his voice cracking, then regretted his reaction.

  “Yes. Miss Long prepared an ice pack for me. If my ankle doesn’t feel better soon, she’ll take me to the hospital.”

  “Oh gosh,” Gordy said. “I hope it’s not sprained. You’ll have to be on crutches …” Secretly he was pleased. No more swim dates for his boss and Miss Long.

  “It’s okay. I
can get around the camp with the little cart. We’ll see. Tell Mrs. Briggs I’m here if she needs me.”

  “I will. See you tomorrow.”

  Gordy hung up the phone. Miss Long is taking care of Dirk! How unfair! Gordy picked up his backpack, informed Mrs. Briggs of Dirk’s malady, then went out to the parking lot.

  I found her bathing suit this morning, he thought as he walked to his car, I returned it, and now she’s taking care of Dirk. Miss Long’s car was right there next to his. Gordy stared at the big SUV as he got the keys out of his pocket. She’s such a little thing, driving a big car like that. All the way from California. Does her front tire look a little low? he wondered. He crouched down on the ground to take a look. It was fine. Too bad. Then he glanced under the car hoping to find something else of hers. If he did, this time he wouldn’t leave it on any clothesline. He’d give it to her in person.

  But there was nothing. Just grass. He was about to get up when he spotted something under the bumper. Gordy looked closer. It was a GPS tracking device, he was sure of it! Does Miss Long know it’s there? She might, some people have them in case their car is stolen. Or did a jealous boyfriend secretly install it? Gordy wondered. If so, Dirk better be careful.

  Gordy stood, unlocked his car, and got in. Should I tell her? he wondered as he backed out. No. If she knows it’s there, then she’ll wonder what I was doing snooping under her car. She drove a long way to get here. Maybe her family wanted her to have the tracking device for safety so they’d be able to find her if they didn’t hear from her. That must be it. She’s so sweet. I’m sure they worry about her.