by Alex Tully
And so he left his favorite hat, went down to meet his mom in the car, and pretended that he hadn’t just heard the love-chat between her and his doctor.
She was the classic concerned mother, “So how did it go?”
“Fine,” he looked out the window.
She wouldn’t get another word out of him. Dr. Malone could tell her all about it at dinner. And, what about Dr. Malone? Didn’t the whole situation violate some kind of Hippocratic Oath about not screwing your patient’s mother?
Ethan cringed at the thought—he didn’t want to think about it another second. He put his headphones on and tried to drown out the thoughts racing around in his brain. Like, could he be indirectly responsible for the affair by bringing them together, or did they know each other before? He wasn’t sure which was worse. Should he tell Emma, or spare her the extra drama? Should he confront mom alone, or make her affair…a family affair?
He would think about it later. On the hour-long drive back to Marblehead he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. And after he got back to the lake house, he stayed quiet too.
In fact, he hadn’t said anything to anyone in the last twenty-four hours—even Zoe. But sitting at the Fourth of July party with his parents, who acted like they were in one of their commercials, was more than he could take.
Ethan needed a distraction and he began scanning the party for Zoe—he hadn’t seen her for a while. He looked over at the bar area of the Galley, where she would usually go to empty trays and fill them back up. She wasn’t there, but Heather was.
He quickly got up and made his way over, “Hey.”
Heather barely looked at him as she poured clear liquor into a tall glass and topped it off with a slice of lime, “What can I do for you, Ethan?”
They’d talked many times over the summers but their conversations had always been of the Old Ethan variety, “Hey Heather, I bet no one would notice if you poured some rum into our Cokes,” or, “Hey Heather, we’ll give you a hundred bucks to hide a bottle in one of those towels.”
He and his friends at Crystal Waters were relentless, but she never wavered, which was probably one of the reasons she had lasted there so long. That, and the fact that she was hot—Marty cared about that more than anything.
“Uh, do you know where Zoe is?”
“Good question, I’m getting slammed here,” Heather looked up and glanced around, “Last time I saw her, she was talking to Crawfish over by the champagne fountain.”
Ethan felt an immediate rush of hate-filled adrenaline. Marty Fucking Crawford!
He looked over at the fountain. A few random people mingled around, but no Zoe or Marty. He continued searching the pool area, as the anger bubbled inside of him. He checked the two bars, the Galley dining room, and the pavilion behind the pool. He didn’t see Zoe anywhere. And he didn’t see Marty either.
Where the hell was she?
Beyond the fountain, a grassy slope separated the pool from the waterfront villas, and that’s where he headed next. He immediately heard voices—they were coming from the bottom of the hill.
It was dark, and the figures were shadowy, but it looked like the Crawfords.
“Martin, do you hear me?” Gayle Crawford’s high-pitched voice pierced the night air, “I don’t care how god damn messy it is, this is ending! And I want you out of Crystal Waters!”
Marty just stood there, arms crossed.
Gayle wasn’t done, “I’m the one who runs everything around here while you sit like a god-damn king in that ridiculous cabana! You have plenty of other properties, go be an asshole at one of those!”
“Well,” he finally responded with a slur, “I’m sorry Gayle, but I like this one the best.”
“I’ve put up with a lot of shit over the years, but this is the end! I mean it.”
Marty teetered slightly and held his drink out, “Have a drink, Gayle! If you weren’t such a tight ass, and had some fun once in a while—.”
“Oh, like Zoe? She didn’t look like she was having very much fun, Martin. That girl was hysterical, for God’s sake.”
And that’s when Ethan’s feet began moving.
“I told you…the girl was just upset about the trailer park deal.”
“You need help, Martin. I can’t believe you think it’s okay to put your hands on a teenage girl—.”
And then she stopped.
And both of them turned to look at Ethan—standing rigid, arms to his sides, fists clenched.
Crawford put his hands on Zoe?
Mrs. Crawford’s eyes grew wide, “Can we help you with something?”
Ethan wasn’t sure how he looked, but he knew how he felt. It scared him, and it apparently scared her too.
But good old Marty wasn’t scared. He looked perfectly smug, with a shitty grin on his face, “Hey, aren’t you the Pierce boy? Son of the famous Pierce and Pierce duo?”
Ethan was paralyzed with rage—he couldn’t even speak.
“I’ll tell you what Gayle,” Marty stepped forward and pointed his finger only inches away from Ethan’s chest, “I’m never going to give you that divorce…but if I ever did, I sure as hell wouldn’t hire those—.”
But Marty never finished his sentence, because Ethan slammed his fist into the asshole’s face with such force, his entire mouth shifted sideways.
Marty flew backward, his arms flailing through the air, his drink becoming a dangerous projectile shooting out behind him. He landed with a thud in the manicured, green grass.
A tiny pebble bounced off the ground in front of Ethan—which upon closer inspection he could see wasn’t a pebble at all—it was a big shiny tooth.
Mrs. Crawford gasped, and Ethan froze. They looked at each other, and he could see the corners of her mouth slowly curve up.
“Well done, young man…well done.”
CHAPTER 26
ZOE
Zoe made her way down to the water, from the spot where she went ballistic on Crawford. She couldn’t go back through the party and risk seeing Heather, or anyone else.
She had completely lost it—and she knew she had to get out of there, away from the whole scene as fast as she could. That pompous, egotistical, cold-hearted, waste of space, was trying to make excuses for putting all the Sunny Shores residents out on their asses, just so he could add a little bit of money to his fortune.
She ran down the beach, toward the trailer park, but slowed down once she saw the people gathered out by the dock.
It was a yearly tradition on the Fourth, everyone would bring their coolers and blankets and have a picnic before watching the fireworks. Although Sunny Shores was a crappy little trailer park with a crappy little dock, it still had one of the best views on the entire peninsula.
She saw Parker and Shirley, the Harts, and even Frankie with his six-pack slung over his shoulder. It would be the last time they all spent the Fourth of July together, and the rage that had been burning inside her quickly turned into overwhelming feelings of sadness and hopelessness.
These people weren’t just like family, they were her family, in the truest sense of the word. It was so unfair—Marty Crawford had complete control over their lives and there was nothing she could do about it.
The tears welled up in her eyes and she quickly ran up the gravel drive before anyone noticed her. When she got inside her trailer, she went straight to her bed, flopped down, and buried her face in her pillow.
And then she began sobbing—a deep, raw, release of emotion. She thought about her life, her pathetic, tiny, insignificant life. Her mother was a child, her father was a stranger. The only family she ever knew—the residents of Sunny Shores—would very soon be broken apart and scattered in different directions.
Her job was gone. Even if she wasn’t fired for her meltdown, she sure as hell wasn’t going back to Crystal Waters—ever. She’d probably have to get a job at a fast-food place, and she’d have to ride her bike, and she wouldn’t make nearly as much money…
And what about the
whole Ethan situation? Her boyfriend, if she could even call him that, who was cute and sweet, was leaving at the end of summer.
Zoe’s face hurt—her whole head was full of congestion from crying. She took a deep breath and sat up on her bed. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. And she sure as hell wasn’t in the mood for fireworks.
What she’d really like to do was get into Frankie’s boat and just go—speed out into the darkness—away from the fireworks, away from people, away from everything. But it wasn’t an option, at least not until later.
“Zoe!”
She heard the yell from outside her door—it was Ethan.
At any other time she would’ve jumped up to greet him, but she honestly just wanted to be left alone. She looked like crap, her head was pounding, and she didn’t have the energy to talk.
“Zoe! You in there?” Bang, bang, bang…
She pulled herself up and glanced in the mirror over her dresser. She looked bad—really, really, bad. “Coming!”
The second she responded Ethan was through the door. He came straight back to her room, looking as worried as he’d looked the night on Frankie’s boat, “Are you okay?!” His hands were on her shoulders and his eyes searched her face.
She looked away, “Yeah, I mean…I’m just really tired.”
And then he pulled her into his arms, “What the hell happened with Crawford? Did he put his hands on you?”
“Wait,” she pulled away, “did you see that?” She flopped back down on the bed and he sat down next to her.
“No, but I was looking for you everywhere, and then I saw him with Mrs. Crawford. They were in the middle of this huge fight,” he paused.
“And?”
Ethan hesitated as if he was holding something back, “And she was pissed and screaming, and she said something about you. I heard your name…what was that about?” he waited.
She really didn’t feel like talking about it, but she knew Ethan wasn’t going to let it go.
“Crawford pulled me aside and started saying shit about buying the trailer park, and how it was just business…how he could ‘make some calls’ to help me get a new place to live…”
She sighed, “And I lost it. I mean I seriously flipped out…I started screaming…called him every name in the book. And then I just took off.”
“Are you okay?” Ethan reached for her hand and held it in his.
“I’m fine, but now I’m gonna need to find a new job.”
“Well,” Ethan said, “Crawford seems obsessed with you. Maybe it’s better you’re not working there anymore.”
He said it with the best intentions, but it struck a nerve. She couldn’t help it, she felt anger. She felt resentment.
“Well, at this point in the summer, it’s going to be pretty much impossible to find something that pays close to what I was making there.”
“Well, what were you making?” he asked casually.
“Why?” She pulled her hand away.
“I mean,” he shrugged, “I have my own account so whatever you need, I can cover it.”
“Ethan,” the more he talked, the angrier she got, “I’m really tired and seriously just want to crash right now.”
“I’m just saying, isn’t it stupid for you to work all summer if I can just—?”
“Stop!” she screamed. “You just don’t get it do you?!”
“What?” He looked seriously confused.
“What, Ethan?” she yelled, “Are you gonna make some calls for me too? Do you know who you sound like?”
The look of hurt on his face was so pitiful that she hesitated for a second, but she couldn’t hold back at that point, “Ethan look around!” she stood up and waved her hands in the air, “I do not live in a La La Land like you!”
She didn’t care. She hated the world at that moment and Ethan was going to get the brunt of it, “This is my reality! Shitty Shores—with a shitty mother who expects her shitty daughter to work a shitty job! That’s it—pretty simple. I just can’t have my rich boyfriend take care of me by dipping into his trust fund! I’m not your fricking charity case!”
“I only thought maybe—.”
“Yeah, I know what you thought,” she could hear the contempt in her own voice, “because that’s your world, and you don’t see anything wrong with it. But I do.”
Now Ethan was standing and heading for the door and the realization of how badly she had just gone off began to sink in. What was she doing?!
“Wait Ethan, I’m sorry…I’m just…”
But his back was turned to her, and he was already on his way out.
“Ethan!” she called after him.
She was an idiot! What the hell was wrong with her? He was only trying to help and she had been a complete psycho bitch. She picked up her phone and quickly began typing:
Zoe 9:57 pm: Ethan I’m sorry, please come back
No response.
Of course, no response!
Zoe 9:59 pm: Its just been a rough day…please talk to me
She closed her eyes to try to quiet the thumping in her head. She just wanted to sleep. Maybe if she could just fall asleep…
BOOM! The first fireworks of the night—so loud, the whole trailer shook. OMG!
She rolled up out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. She whipped open the medicine cabinet and grabbed the Ibuprofen. She laid back in bed and put the pillow over her head.
BOOM! There was no way she was going to be able to sleep through it. She picked up her phone again. Still no response from Ethan.
Zoe 10:06 pm: Hey Parker are you watching the fireworks?
No response.
BOOM!
Screw it. She grabbed a blanket off the couch and headed out. As she walked down to the docks, her eyes immediately went to the Sea-quester. It was completely dark. Either Ethan wasn’t there, or he wanted her to think he wasn’t there.
She saw Parker and Shirley sitting on lawn chairs on the beach, and made her way over to them.
“Hey!” Parker was waving his hand in the air.
Before Zoe could even spread her blanket out, Shirley was yelling at him, “Mind your manners, and get out of that chair you nincompoop!”
“Oh that’s okay,” Zoe said, but Shirley patted the newly-vacant chair next to her, “Here Zoe, sit, sit.”
“Why didn’t you answer my text?” she shouted at Parker over the whistle of a firework.
“Oh, I left my phone in the trailer! Hey, I thought you were supposed to be working!” Parker yelled back over the booms.
“Nope, not anymore! Long story…I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, I don’t want to think about it tonight!”
And she didn’t want to think about it. She looked around at the Sunny Shores family, oohing and aahing together for the last time, forgetting their problems for at least a little while. No, Zoe didn’t want to think about it at all.
She glanced over at the Sea-quester again—still dark. And then she glanced over at Frankie’s fishing boat.
Ready to go.
CHAPTER 27
PARKER
Morning couldn’t come quick enough. Parker woke up three times in the middle of the night, hoping for a peek of light through his window. But each time, he was greeted by the blackness of a night sky. He had so much on his mind, it was almost impossible to sleep.
First off, he was worried about Zoe—he could tell she’d been crying at the fireworks. She wouldn’t tell him what happened at work, but it must’ve been bad. And then, he thought he might’ve heard Frankie’s boat, but he told himself he must’ve been dreaming because he really didn’t want to risk sneaking out to check.
He was also worried about his phone—he had no clue where it was. Of course, he couldn’t tell Zoe the truth—so he had to lie to her, which he hated. He told her he left it in the trailer, but the only problem was, he’d searched every square inch of his trailer. It wasn’t there. And, he had retraced his steps from yesterday a million times.
&nb
sp; He didn’t know how he was gonna tell Ethan, or Zoe, or Grams that he lost it. But then, Parker thought about July 5th.
Two summers ago Dylan Tompkins told him about it, “Dude, I heard if you go walk the beach early in the morning you will find tons of awesome shit. You gotta go like at the crack of dawn though before they start cleaning it all up.”
So last year Parker took his advice, snuck out super early, and found lots of cool stuff, just like Dylan said he would. The biggest prize was an iPhone—and it was inside of a purse, so there was no sand or water damage. Grams wouldn’t let him keep it—total shocker—but if he found one this year, she wouldn’t even have to know.
He cautiously glanced over at his alarm clock—5:58 glowed red in the dark.
Good enough, he couldn’t wait any longer. He rolled out of bed, slid his bare feet into his Star Wars flip-flops, and grabbed his flashlight. He made his way out of his bedroom and toward the side door. The hardest part would be the stupid floor in the screened porch—it creaked like crazy. If he woke up Grams, she wouldn’t be happy.
Luckily, he escaped unnoticed and ran down the gravel drive toward the lake. Dark gray clouds filled the sky and the air felt heavy, like a summer storm was brewing. He walked past the dock and turned to the east, toward Memorial Park.
Only a few steps into his search he saw something at the water line—something weird. He squinted in the early morning darkness, trying to make it out. At first, he thought it might be a log, but as he got closer, it looked more like…a person.
And the person was laying on their back, arms and legs stretched out wide. And they weren’t really on the beach, they were more like in the water, the waves rolling right over them. And they weren’t moving.
He took a couple of steps closer. No, they weren’t moving at all.
A sick feeling hit the pit of his stomach, “Hey!” he yelled.
No answer.
Parker got just a little closer and shined his flashlight over the figure.
And that’s when he saw the face. It was all bloated and alien-like—but it was definitely a face.
And, he knew whose face it was. Oh no…
