Mud Season
Chapter 1
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I woke
up on the announcement that the plane was about to land, but I think the landing
was already well underway. I had to yawn
large a couple of times to equalize the pressure in my ears.
I
don’t usually sleep on planes, and wasn’t really sure why the relatively short
flight to
After
my checked bag came around the carousel, I walked out of the luggage area and
looked for a sign with my name on it.
There was only one person with a sign, and it was my name indeed printed
on it, so I smiled and headed toward her.
A female driver: a new first!
“I’m
Paul Dunn,” I announced when I was in front of her.
She
smiled, “I’m Lauren. This
way. Let me take your bag.”
“I can
carry it,” I said.
I
followed her out to the curb where she told me to wait. In a few minutes she came back driving a
minivan. The side door started opening
before she got out, and there was a man sitting there in the second seat.
“Paul?”
he asked, and looked at something in his hands.
Then he got out of the car and introduced himself by holding out his picture
badge. “My name’s Ron and I’ll see you
to your father. Lauren is driving,
okay?”
I knew
there would be security. I didn’t like
the idea. I didn’t really like any part
of it, and I’m sure these people were being low-key because my father insisted
on it. Still, I knew I hadn’t been left
alone on the sidewalk, even for the few minutes it took Lauren to get the van,
and before I could complete the thought another guy appeared beside me, his
badge in hand so I could see. .
I saw
his first name was Hector before he let his badge retract on a lanyard. He was a big guy when I looked: most likely a
Mexican who’d taken up Sumo wrestling.
His neck looked as big as my waist, and he
said, “We will show you ID every time we meet, okay? If we don’t, you yell. We will always
have the ID out. Got that?”
I
nodded quickly, more out of fear from his size than understanding. I mean, what would I do if this guy even gave me a cross look?
He
asked, “You want the front or the back?”
I
looked, and there was a third-row seat that looked good, so I said, “Back, if
it’s okay with you.”
For
all his size and professionalism, the man had a friendly smile. “It’s all about what you want, Paul. The back is good, though. It’s an hour to
I
started to lift my bags off the sidewalk, and he said, “I’ll take these. Get in.”
I
suddenly worried. Like, what if these
people aren’t who they say? I pulled my
cell out and called my father, knowing that he wouldn’t answer because he
couldn’t. Elenora picked up, a smile in
her voice. “Paul! You’re here?”
“It’s
me,” I said. “I’m at the airport. Am I supposed to get in this car just because
these people have a sign with my name on it?”
I thought
about what I’d just asked and added, “Am I supposed to be this paranoid? Am I me?”
Her
voice came back softly, “Paul, we chose those people because we thought you’d
like them. If you have Lauren, Ron and
Hector, they’re real.”
“That’s
them,” I said quietly. “Sorry.”
“Nobody
likes this, Paul.”
God, I
knew that. I hated that my dad’s money
made us targets, but I knew it did, and I was lucky enough that Dad was still
alive after he was kidnapped. I had the
idea in my head that it was my fault, and it really was.
* * * * * * * *
There
is a lot of story behind it, but when my father and mother divorced, all I
wanted in this world was a sense of normal.
To find that normalcy, my Dad moved us to an old house in
People
knew my father, and some of them knew of his money. We didn’t show it off where we lived, and for
a long we were just a divorced father and his son. I’m sure nobody thought we were poor by any
means, but my father isn’t well known outside of certain circles, and in
I
could be normal with my friends because money wasn’t a subject, at least not
beyond what you had in your pocket at any point in time. Family money wasn’t discussed. People knew we weren’t poor, but I don’t
think we were perceived as being particularly rich, either. It was perfect for two years.
Now
my father had been damaged because of that money, and I was still pissed off.
I
was in
I
was busy learning to be my own person, though, and decided to stay in
All
the properties are on a hill, divided by a road, and the hill across the street
continues down to the river. The only
structure across the road is an old, brick utility building with one door and
no windows.
The
people who my father hired to provide protection were obvious sometimes at
first, but not so much anymore. Other
than a question at bedtime, to ask if the family was expecting anyone and a
comment in the morning that things were clear, there was little contact with us
in the house. They’d call to ask us
about cars turning into our driveway, but they never asked a second time about
the same car.
It
was low-key, and I still rode the bus to school, still hung out with my
friends, and still spent every possible moment with Lisa Mongillo. The school had its own security, and if they
paid any special attention to me they sure didn’t show it.
The
dance to honor Jamie Jenks had been fast approaching, and I spent a whole lot
of time helping with last-minute things.
Ally went to work in
I
couldn’t leave before the dance, but Dana and Elenora had no such
limitations. They were in
I
had coached Dana on beach safety, the dangers of the sun and rip currents; I’d
told him about sharks and stingrays, and warned him to stay clear of
surfers. What I’d neglected to mention
is the sheer slamming power of a waist-high breaker, and Dana had taken the
first big wave of his life right in the nuts.
His
displeasure with that event stayed with him for a long time, and I heard about
it in triplicate every day for a week after it happened.
Since
then, he’d learned to either approach the surf sideways, or to just dive in.
Dana
wasn’t a strong swimmer because he never really had a place to swim. There are rivers around
Dana
was a prime candidate to drown when he arrived in
It
never came to that. They’d been there
for a month, and Dana had taken to the water like an otter. By the time I
showed up, he was doing a few laps in the pool before bed just to relax, and
more in the morning to wake up. He was
looking forward to learning how to surf, and waited for me to come and take
lessons with him.
* * * * * * * *
On
the way in the van, I was getting a long-winded, somewhat funny, lecture on
basic security from Hector, whose intelligence was a bit masked by his sheer
size. He seemed built to intimidate, not
educate, but he had a way with words that made his lecture easy to palate.
He
didn’t try to scare me, but rather to suggest that I should always, always pay
attention to the people around me: close enough attention that I would be able
to describe those people, at least in basic matters, such as sex, size,
coloring, hair, approximate age, and clothes.
He also wanted me to pay attention to peoples’ behaviors, and to move
away quickly from anything or any person who made me even remotely
uncomfortable. I shouldn’t run and hide,
just move away. Then he ruined it by
saying, if I do that, and someone follows me, others would intervene.
I
folded my arms across my chest and sat back, not ready to listen anymore. I didn’t want to be watched like I was some
freaking Ebola outbreak. I was there for
fun in the sun, and to be with my father.
Period.
Hector
smiled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be so
bad.” His smile turned into a little
boy’s grin. “We won’t follow you into
the bathroom or your bedroom. If you
meet someone, go ahead and talk, play, whatever. Just do this one thing. If someone seems interested in you, ask
yourself why. That’s all. If it’s a little girl your age, you already
have your answer. If it’s someone older,
someone you don’t know, then park a question in your
mind, and start remembering what takes place.”
He smiled, “And like I said, if something makes you feel uncomfortable
or uneasy, just walk.” His smile
brightened, “This is Earth, the
I
liked the guy, and smiled. “If that
stranger has a badge, then there’s a law.”
Hector
said, “Well, yeah. There’s that.” He looked at me a bit more closely. “Don’t take a badge at face-value, Paul. I could make a call right now, and have you a
genuine Cocoa-Beach Police badge waiting when we get there. Ask for their official ID and something else,
like their driver’s license or even a library card. Any cop anywhere will prove who they are if
you ask.”
I
sat back less belligerently, and pondered what I’d heard. It made sense, all of it, but I still didn’t
like the idea of having people looking at me, watching what I do and who I
associate with.
Still,
since Dad’s kidnapping, I had read up on the Internet about kidnapping for
ransom. It’s actually common in
Even
so, a kidnapping for money here is exponentially more likely to end up with a
dead victim than anywhere else. In
In
the
The
people who took my father didn’t know the rules. They were petty criminals: drug users who saw
an opportunity for a big score, and almost succeeded. Half smart.
The snatch was perfect. Wait on a
busy street until Dad was alone on the sidewalk, bored while Elenora looked in
a shop. The guys who took him left their
van there in the street, side door open.
Then they edged up to my father, one on each side, made a little
friendly conversation, and quietly pushed him into their van, then took off. Dad was literally taken by surprise.
The
guys who took him weren’t as smart as they thought they were, and they were no
match at all for Dad’s lawyer, Bernie Sutton.
Bernie doesn’t like crooks and liars any more than the next person
would, yet he talked to the men who had my father like they were his personal
friends.
He
also talked to his real friends: friends in banking and high finance, and
friends of my father who knew everything about computers and networks and
wireless devices. There were a lot of
people watching when Bernie typed in the transaction code that would transfer a
hundred million of my father’s dollars into the bad guys’ account. It was electronics, not people,
that traced that transaction right to its destination, which was known
to law enforcement by the time the deposit showed up on the screen of the
perpetrators’ laptop.
That
protected the money, but it didn’t find the criminals. That took until the next morning, when the
master criminals themselves walked into their bank in
Bernard
Sutton had stayed in our
The
opposite was true. He’d let us all
believe that paying the ransom was the best, and possibly the only course. That was my feeling to begin with, so I never
argued with him. What Bernie neglected
to mention to any of us, was that he had his own ways to find creeps like the
ones he was after, and Bernie Sutton is rich only because of what he knows, and
what he dared to do.
When
those guys showed up at the bank, a friendly local cop, accompanied by a
less-friendly
I
wasn’t there, but I expect that Yves St Pierre and Louis Charmont weren’t very
happy with their reception.
I’m
glad. If they had stuck to stealing
money, I’d be on their side, only chastising them for not taking more when the
taking was good.
They
had hurt my father, though. It was
unnecessary, and what they did was simply brutal. That made Charmont and
I
might have actually championed their cause if all they took was money. That wasn’t enough for them, though.
Given
any chance at all, I’d have gladly tortured the two of them in vats of boiling
acid.
The
irony is that they’re bonded out of jail, and my family is now practically
imprisoned under a new cloud of security because of them. I’m sure that my father could just breathe
the words, and those guys would vanish from the face of the Earth, but Dad won’t
do that, and it wouldn’t stop the next guys from trying anyhow.
I
don’t think I could really cause harm to them, either. Still, a month earlier I never thought I was
capable of hatred, so maybe by fall I might be able to condone murder. By Christmas, I might be able to commit
murder myself. Wouldn’t that be
nice? Paulie Dunn, the Christmas Eve
murderer!
I looked at
Charmont,
Said,
“Now you two are out of here!”
I held them down
at gunpoint near,
And
used my knife to take an ear.
“Ouch” they said,
to make me grin.
“This is how the
fun begins.
“You hurt a fine
man with my Dad,
“So now I’ll make
you really sad.”
I
suck. I could think things like that,
but I could never do it. Not in a
million years: not ever! I’m too much a
coward.
I
groaned, almost a sob, and the giant, Hector, looked back and asked, “What’s
wrong?”
I
grimaced. “Did you ever kill
anyone? Could you?”
His
big face went sad, and he said, “No, and I don’t know.” He swallowed, “I’m trained to kill.” His eyes blinked and he looked away for a
moment, and then brought his eyes back to mine.
His voice was soft, just for me.
“I hope it never comes to that, but I guess I could.”
His
huge shoulders heaved, and he added, “That’s a tall order.” Hector paused and drew a breath, then leaned
closer to me. “Listen, Paul Dunn. I’m being paid to look after you, and I’m
paid well. If it ever comes to it, my
employers will expect me to put my own life ahead of yours. Nobody wants anybody hurt. My job is you, though, and I’ll look after you the
best I can.”
His
smile was taut. “If someone gets between
us, he better have a why ready, and
he better be fast!” His smile became
gentle again.
I
smiled back. My well-being was his job,
and while I didn’t like that in the abstract, I felt that I’d just talked to an
honest man. I immediately classified him
as Hector the Gentle Giant, because
that’s exactly the way he came across.
As
big as he was, I hadn’t picked up on him at the airport until he actually
approached me, so I felt comfortable that he could watch me from afar and not
muck up whatever social life I might come up with. He also seemed ready to treat me
neutrally. It was clear that he’d be the
boss if he sensed trouble, and I appreciated that. He also seemed to realize that I didn’t like his
being there on general principles, and he’d already promised to stay out of my
way and my personal business. We’d get
along.
* * * * * * * *
I
was in
Every
administrator was there, every teacher, all the support staff.
The
attendance was amazing, and the party was upbeat from the get-go. We’d used streamers for tickets, and they were
over everything and everyone. The
decorations committee had the gym done up in metallic foil colors. It wasn’t a big, dark party like you’d have
in a disco. Things were bright, but not
glaring.
The
DJ was great. His rig sounded fantastic;
his personality was gentle and low-key, yet he was a lot of fun.
For
food we had chips and dips, vegs and dips, hot nachos, a theater-type popcorn
machine manned by our Principal, and something like a ton of sweets: cookies
and brownies mostly, but there was also a small mountain of bite-size pieces of
baklava.
The
school system had just banned the sale of soda, and they told us we couldn’t
give it away either. No matter, we made
a local farmer happy, and bought vats of cider, big dispensers of white and
chocolate milk, and we rented water coolers with the large spring-water bottles. There was coffee, too, and hot chocolate, and
the makings for tea.
The
goodies were no substitute for a meal, and for the first two hours I thought
we’d way overspent. Things just weren’t
disappearing until around
I
loved it! I like to dance. I’ve danced with my mother forever, since I
only came up to her knees, and now I dance with Ally, too. This was my night to dance with Lisa
Mongillo, and we were a natural fit: as comfortable dancing together as my
mother and father always were, and we got things going like my folks would
have.
We
came into the dance like everyone else, and the DJ had just begun. Nobody was on the floor, and I gave Lisa a
gentle tug, turned, and we danced the first dance of the night, the first
couple on the floor. A few friends
cheered us, and a lot of others happily joined us.
Some
boys from school had a band, and they had volunteered to play a set for free. They
set up their equipment while the party commenced. We promised them a half-hour, but let them go
fifteen minutes longer because everyone liked them. They did their own music, and it had a retro-country
sound, like the Eagles mixed with Marshall Tucker. They were upbeat and fun, and really helped
to elevate the mood of the party.
Dan
McNaughton had been scheduled to make a little speech, but he was too wired up
when the time came. He stood on a table
with the DJ’s microphone so people could see him, and said, “I’m supposed to
say something here. I’ll just say keep it up! Have fun, and remember Jamie. This party is just exactly how he’d want it!”
He
jumped off the table to applause, and handed the microphone back to the DJ, who
immediately started the next song. Dan
walked out on the floor, hand-in-hand with Cynthia Olsen, and they soon
disappeared into a throng of other dancers.
What
our committee was proudest of, and what we enthused about after everything was
over, was that nobody, nobody didn’t
dance. Dweeby people, overweight people,
pimply people -- dweeby, overweight and pimply
people – they all got asked to dance.
Not once, but all night. We on
the committee were volunteers at first, but it wasn’t long before everyone just
danced with whoever was available.
Little
Jeffrey Patenero, our resident dwarf, made it his mission to dance with all the
girls he could. He had good moves during
the faster things and the people closest to him usually watched
appreciatively. He shied away from slow
dances, for obvious reasons, until his brothers came up with the idea of a
little platform for him to stand on.
They set it up by the edge of the dance area, near the DJ. Jeffrey looked embarrassed at first, but Lisa
was the first to dance with him there, and she had him beaming within a
minute.
After
that, when the DJ was going to play something slow, he announced a ‘Jeffrey’
song. Jeff came running, and girls took
turns dancing with him. It was awkward
but doable, and Jeff’s star shone pretty brightly on that night.
We
had under-spent our allocated five thousand, and after all was said and done,
we decided to give what was left to a local charity. It wasn’t a lot: about four hundred dollars. We could have served shrimp after all, but I
didn’t protest. Shrimp
and cider? No, that would be
weird.
Who
to donate the money to was an open question with our committee, which should
have been over and done with. We left
the question, and the money, with next year’s committee.
* * * * * * * *
I
only missed a day of school after my father was in the hospital. I stayed out that Monday and spent the day at
the hospital. I was more of a wreck
after the fact than when Dad was missing, and wasn’t very functional that
day. Elenora and Dana spent three days
in
Back
in
I
love my father, and I want to make that clear, but within one day of his homecoming I was referring to him as the IP, as in injured party. The grouch in
that bed was not my father, because my father is never in a dark mood, and
this guy never cheered up. I’m happy to
help out with the old and infirm, but I’m no slave boy. I was one hour shy of going out on strike
when Elenora finally returned, and they took off for
That
was the first time flying for both Elenora and Dana, and they got the royal
treatment. Dad hired a private jet to
fly them from
I’ve
been on those corporate jets a few times, and they are way … far and away … the way to travel when point B is a
serious distance from point A. That trip
to
That’s
fine, and my fault. I could have been on
the private jet myself, but I’m busy learning about responsibility and
participation: school spirit and all
that. Anyhow, staying behind to do the
things I’d promised for the people I’d promised them to counts for something. Follow that work up with a middle seat on
Southwest, and I ought to get some kind of good citizen prize. That’s what I think.
* * * * * * * *
Hector
had stopped talking, and turned around.
He was doing something, so I looked out the window at the passing
fields, and the mile markers that reminded me that we were on the Beeline
highway. There is a cute little
bumble-bee cartoon on each milepost.
The
next thing I knew, Hector was holding a box out to me: a plain brown thing that
said Paul in black marker ink. I looked my question at him, and he said,
“Lunch. Take it. There’s a fold-down tray on the seatback.”
I
was hungry, and the sandwich was my favorite:
a BLT on white bread with plenty of mayonnaise. There was also an apple, a pickle slice, and
a little package of corn chips, and by the time I had it laid out on the tray,
Hector leaned over again with a quart of white milk. “There’s a glass inside your arm rest
there. Need anything else?”
I
took the bottle of milk and shook it while I shook my head no. “Thanks,” I said, somewhat surprised. It was clear that they hadn’t guessed at my
favorite lunch, but I wondered who told them.
Only
my father would know. Well, other people
would know, but they were in other places than
I
munched the rest of the way to
The
first building, which is kind of fantastical, is a surf shop called Ron Jon’s,
an outrageous looking pinkish building that disappeared from view when the car
turned. We went south for a mile or so,
before turning back north on a road closer to the beach.
It
wasn’t long before we turned into a short, palm-lined driveway that led to a
building near the water. When the car
stopped, Hector slid the door open door for me, and my father was standing
there waiting, with Dana on one side and Elenora on his other. Dad’s left arm was in a cast, but his right
one was free, though it was obvious that he was favoring it. Dana and Elenora both had smiles for me, but
Dad wore a huge grin. He wiggled the
fingers of both hands in a gesture that I took to mean ‘come here’ and it was
comical when Dana lifted the hand in the cast out of the way so we could have a
hug.
That
we did, and Elenora gave me a little hug from behind.
It
was kind of an amazing moment for me because I was registering all kinds of
things at once. I’d seen them all there,
but the hug came on so quickly and lasted so long, that I had to look again at
each of them to validate my first impressions.
I had them right, though. Dad, as
usual, was dressed conservatively, wearing dark blue shorts and a light blue
button-down shirt, the top three buttons undone and the tails hanging out.
He
didn’t surprise me, not a bit. It was
Elenora, who in my first impression looked like a mermaid. When I managed a good look, she was in
normal-enough beach attire: a green
bikini-top, and a shimmering, translucent beige
skirt. She looked great, and her Italian
heritage showed in a terrific tan.
Dana
was a picture. He had a dark tan, too,
and a huge Hawaiian shirt that went almost to his knees. It was a great, floral thing, possibly
orchids, and all primary colors. It was
long enough to hide anything he may have been wearing underneath it.
The
best thing was his hair. It was frizzed
out from being in the water and the breeze, all highlighted blond from the sun,
and he looked like the perfect beach boy.
He
was beaming, too, and hanging close to my father. He still had the cast in his hand, and
grinned at me. “Cracks nuts, too!” he
said as he lowered Dad’s arm. He grinned
again, “You gotta lose the pants! You look
like you just got off the bus from
“I
did,” I growled. “Where can I change?”
Hector
was right beside me, holding out a card-key.
“This is yours,” he said. “Use it
for everything. It opens the room, makes
the elevator go to your floor, and pays for anything you want here.” He patted my shoulder. “Have fun, amigo. Be good and play safe. Hopefully you won’t see me too often, but
I’ll be around. Okay?”
I
turned and smiled. “Thanks,” I said
holding out my hand. We shook and I
added, “Maybe some night we can shoot a little nine-ball or something.”
“Maybe,”
he said.
I
grinned, “Bring money. Lots.”
He
wiggled an enormous finger at me and said, “You got a date!” Then he turned and left, and seemed to just
disappear.
I
turned back to my family and asked, “Where are we staying?”
“Top
floor,” Dad said. “Go up with Dana. I
don’t want to be going back and forth.”
He looked quickly at Dana and asked, “Okay?”
Dana
nodded, and then grinned at me. “Wait’ll
you see! C’mon.”
I
followed him into the building, and could see right through the lobby to the
beach and ocean on the other side.
It
was Dana’s first-ever time in a hotel, and it was clear to me that he loved it,
at least this one. He showed me how to
work the elevator, which would go to everywhere but our floor at the touch of a
button. Our floor required the insertion
of the card-key, and the sixth floor wasn’t even an option on the buttons. The sixth floor was all ours, too. There were two suites, and I shared one with
Dana. They adjoined, so we didn’t even
have to go out in the hall to visit next door, and the suite was really nice.
There
was an entryway, just like in a house, with a nook for hanging outdoor clothes. The left side led to a little hall, and there
was a kitchen there, just after a bathroom.
Walking straight ahead brought us to a living room that had to be twenty-five
feet wide, with a dining area on the left that led back to the kitchen. The side to the ocean was curved,
floor-to-ceiling glass, and the drapes were operated by a remote control, which
Dana gleefully demonstrated. There was a
deck out there, too, and doors to it from each side of the room. It was down a few steps so the railing didn’t
interfere with the view from the room itself.
That
living room was all comfy looking, in the way that hotels do that sort of
thing. This one had an unusual bit: a
sofa in the middle of the room that faced both ways. One side had a view to the beach and the sea
beyond, and the other side of it faced a wall with a flat-screen television and
a compact sound system.
There
was plenty of other furniture, but that was the first two-sided sofa I’d seen,
so it’s what struck me.
A
bouquet of flowers sat on a highly polished table, and I looked closely to see
if they were real. I pulled back at the
scent. They were real for sure, and
fragrant. I looked at Dana and said,
“Flowers?”
He
nodded, “Every day. They’re in our
rooms, too, and the bathrooms. When
you’re on the deck, look down. It’s full
of planters and red flowers, and they draw hummingbirds like you never
saw. They aren’t the gray things from
I
smiled at his enthusiasm, and followed him to my own room. Dana and I each had bedrooms with en-suite
bathrooms. The rooms were reversed, but
otherwise identical, and they shared a deck, and both had drapes controlled by remote.
I
was impressed with the place, and also with my father’s indulgence in it. For all his money, he was usually happy with
a Holiday Inn, or some other mid-level place.
“My needs are small,” he’d say.
“Just give me a bed, a shower, and a phone.”
I
looked around me and conceded that we had those things there. Hotels don’t differ much in their basic
offerings, but rather in presentation.
In that last respect, this place was a knockout!
When
I was in my room, I decided to unpack.
That took a few minutes, and I was looking out the window most of the
time. It looked like high tide, and
there was a nice, steady surf under the bright blue
sky. I paid scant attention to what I
was doing, but the things I’d need right away landed on the bed, while other
things found a drawer. I took the
clothes that needed hangers and arranged them nicely on the back of a
chair. I’d hang them if I needed the
chair for something else.
I
pulled off my travel clothes and practically dove into my bathing suit and beach
clogs. I looked at Dana. “What am I forgetting?”
“You
need a shirt,” he said, “A shirt with a pocket.”
I
looked at him and he reached into his own shirt pocket and pulled out the card
that ran the elevator, opened the room, and turned the lights on. “This,” he said, wiggling his in front of me,
“is all you need, and you don’t wanna lose it. It’ll get you downstairs; it’ll
get you a beach towel and all the toys.
You show it to the nice people at the pool, and they’ll bring you an
iced tea, a nice lemonade, an ice cream … anything you
want.” Dana was grinning.
“What?”
I asked.
“I
love it here, that’s what! Now I’ll love
it more, ‘cause you’re here.” He turned around, saying, “Let’s went,” as he
did.
I
snagged the shirt I’d flown down in off the bed, and put it on unbuttoned. When we left the suite, I took my card out of
the little slot it was in, and everything we’d turned on went back off. I’d seen that before, but not in American
hotels. I thought it was a pretty
ingenious way for hotels to save money, and at the same time advertise how much
they cared about the environment.
Dana
had the lay of the land, so I just followed along in his wake. He has a knack for names and faces that I
lack, and he pointed out the people I should know on the hotel staff, told me
their names and what they did, and in a few cases, introduced me. “Gene, wait!
This is my brother, Paul.”
I
met people like Gene, then Dana told me what they had the keys to, so I’d
understand why it was good to know them.
My
first hour in
This
was my first glimpse of him on his own with people he’d taken the time to
meet. That hotel was his own turf, too,
at least where I was concerned. I hadn’t
been there before, but after a month, it was immediately clear to me that Dana
was already a fixture, and a popular one.
There
was a booth in the pool area where they handed out towels, lent sporting
equipment, and where people signed up for activities and the various lessons
the place offered. When we walked up,
there was one girl there, looking bored.
She smiled when she saw Dana, and turned that smile to me. “You must be Paul.” I nodded, and she said, “I’m Claire,” she
said cheerily, holding out her hand to shake mine. I shook, and she held a little brochure out,
held between two fingers of her other hand, so she could kind of flip it to me.
She
said, “The pool is right here, and the ocean is behind you.” She put her elbow on the counter, her chin in
her hand, and she pointed at the brochure she’d just given me. Anything you might want that’s not
food-related is right here.” She tapped
the brochure for emphasis, “If it’s listed in this folder, that is.” Claire was probably in her early twenties,
blonde and blue-eyed, and very attractive and personable.
I
asked, “Are towels listed in here?”
“Absolutely! How many would you like?” She batted her eyes at Dana and said, “Dana
always takes five, but I think he just likes to make me work.”
Dana
prodded me with his elbow, so I said, “Five sounds good.”
Then
I peered over the counter with Dana as Claire bent to get my towels. She only wore a white bikini bottom below her
hotel T-shirt, and I suddenly knew why Dana required five towels for the beach. One to sit on, one to dry off with, and three
to keep Claire bent over. Dana flashed a
leery grin my way, and I already wore my own, so it
was funny.
Let
me tell you, that hotel has thick towels, and five of them in front of me made
Claire disappear from my view. Walking
away with Dana, I asked, “Does Claire have the keys to anything?”
“Oh,
yeah,” he said. “Not real keys, but if
she likes you, every guy in this place likes you, too.”
“Favored
guests?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.”
I
thought we’d sit on lounges by the pool, but Dana walked right past there, and
out onto the sand. He stopped where two
lounges were right under some palms, and one of them was covered in towels, so
I spread one of my towels on the other one, dropped some others on top of it,
and ran off to the water with a towel in my hand.
I
hadn’t been to the ocean since Thanksgiving, and I stopped only long enough to
shed my shirt and clogs onto the towel, then I ran out into the surf. The waves were pounding in like they do on
the East coast, with a rhythm and spacing that other oceans don’t share.
I
was able to turn away from ball-busters, taking them either sideways or on my
butt, and I laughed like a little kid until I was in enough water to dive
in. Then I swam far out, beyond the
breakers and into the swells, and I reveled in it.
I
spent my first twelve summers on
I
flopped onto my back to float and feel the sun on me for the first time in what
seemed forever. I saw the occasional
gull overhead and heard others squawking.
The breaking surf sounded distant, and I felt totally relaxed for the
first time in months.
Then
Dana came up beside me on a bright purple, pink and yellow inflatable raft, and
he was towing a second one for me. He
smiled when I saw him, and said, “Brought you a ride. Um,” he lowered his eyes, “It’s my fault, but
we kinda ignored Dad back there. I think
he feels bad.”
I
looked toward the beach and couldn’t tell who was who, then reached for the
raft Dana had brought. “It’s not your
fault. I saw the beach and the water and
forgot all about him.”
After
a couple of rollovers, I was on my raft, paddling to shore beside Dana. I said, “If you tell him what I just said,
I’ll put poison in your milk.”
Dana
looked at me like he thought I was serious, and said, “Don’t worry about me. Did I tell you? We have a surfing lesson at three.”
We
were just getting into the breakers, so I waited on a wave and let it bring me
to shore, where it dumped me rudely in the sand, and the next wave crashed over
my head before I could get to my feet.
If you don’t know the sensation, it’s like someone has the back of your
head and is determined to pound your chin into the sand. After three tries, I was on my feet, and chased
after my raft as it scudded along the spoon like an eel on an oil slick.
After
that I looked for Dana, and couldn’t see him where I thought he should be. Then I heard a faint voice calling me, and
looked toward the hotel. Dana was
halfway across the beach waving and calling to me. I ran after him, picking my towel and
belongings off the beach, and sat on my lounge when he sat on his.
If
my father disowned me, right then I wouldn’t have cared. I was winded from running in the sand, but
totally exhilarated by my swim in the ocean.
All I needed was a shower to get the sand out of my bathing suit, and then
I could go make nice with Dad.
I
toweled off my head the best I could, and then looked around. Sure enough, there were showers right beside
each set of steps to the pool from the beach.
I had the problem of sand in my suit, so I trotted over, stood under a
shower head, and pulled the chain.
I
don’t know what anyone thought of me, or if anyone even noticed, but I let that
water cascade down on me as I pulled the waist of my trunks out and did a
little dance around. There was sand
everywhere inside that bathing suit, so I had to keep going around in a circle,
stretching out the front, the back, and all around the sides until I felt
sand-free.
There
was a foot-wash there, too, and after I felt clean I washed my clogs off. Then I looked around the pool area for my
father and Elenora, and didn’t see them.
I looked back to where I’d left Dana, and he jumped up, waving, then
pointed at a palm tree two down from ours, where Elenora was also waving at me,
and my father was looking my way.
I
trotted over there, feeling completely bone-headed. I tried to cover up when I got near
them. “There you are! I looked all
over the ocean for you, even went out there, and here you are … here.”
My
father snorted, and Elenora rolled her eyes, and they both smiled when I sat
down. Dana sat beside me, patted my
shoulder, and whispered, “Nice try.”
Dad
asked, “How was your trip? Any problems?”
“It
was okay,” I said. “At least I got a
middle-row seat between big people. You
know how I love when that happens.”
Dad
asked, “Why didn’t you go first class?”
“Dad,
Ally looked. I’d have to go through
Dad
held his right hand out and said, “This one’s working again. It’s good, I guess, but I keep bumping it,
and that hurts. A
lot.”
I
looked at his left arm, and he said, “I see the surgeon later today. I think this big cast will come off next
week, and I’ll get a soft cast for I don’t know how long. The doc says the bone set fine, but there’s
not a lot of soft tissue on a wrist.
It’ll be a matter of protecting it for awhile.” He knocked the cast and said, “I’ll be glad
to get this thing off. Talk about an
albatross; Dana uses my arm to open his walnuts.”
I
looked at Dana, and he smiled kind of sappily.
“Serious?” I asked.
Dana
shrugged, “Hey, they brought us fruit and nuts, and I couldn’t find the
nutcracker. My sandal wouldn’t cut it.”
I
looked at Dana for another second, and then my father and Elenora, and I
started laughing.
Welcome
to my family, release 2.0!
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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