Fox Island (12 page)

“I’m going after Lloyd Bennington today.
I’ll try the Airport Hilton and see if I can get his phone number
from them. I’ve got a friend who works at the desk part-time. What
was the name of that eastern town again, Mr. S.? I want to make
sure I get as much of this story as I can.”

Tony kept flipping through the pages and
muttering to himself.

“What’s he doing?” Melody whispered as she
stepped a little closer.

“He’s struggling with whether to allow
someone else to have input into this book project or not,” Price
said.

“That is not true and you know it,” Tony
snapped.

“Whoops, I’m out of here,” Melody said. “The
resolution of creative differences scene is a little too intense
for me.”

Tony tried to explain. “I just hit on a
touchy nerve.”

“Touchy?” Price scowled.

“A minor thing.”

She stood and braced both hands on her hips.
“Minor? An entire chapter?”

“Bye, you all. Have a nice fight.” Melody
scampered out the front door.

“We’re not fighting,” Tony yelled after
her.

“I’m going for a walk along the shoreline,”
Price announced.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll get
my shoes and we can....”

“Alone.” Price pulled on her cardigan
sweater, grabbed a tape and her Walkman, and departed.

Tony watched her from the window as she
marched down the sidewalk past a dwarf apple tree, the neighbor boy
and his dog, and then the boat shed. She disappeared around the
point of the shoreline. He turned back to chapter five lying on the
table.

Lord, I don’t know if this gets tougher, or
easier, every year.

He wanted this to work. Maybe Price was
right. Maybe he didn’t know how to work with someone else. But he
heard the story in his head. He saw it in his mind. Any other
account felt like a distortion, like he lied to the readers.

Lord, help me to hear her story.

And see her visions.

Price stretched out in her jade two-piece
swimsuit on the chaise lounge, soaking in the afternoon sun. Tony,
dripping with sweat from a run, waved a bright purple sheet of
paper in her face.

“Have you seen these?”

Price propped herself up on one elbow and
pushed her sun-glasses down on her nose. “What is it?”

“They’ve posted flyers all over the Island.
There’s a big meeting scheduled at the Community Center
tonight.”

“What for?”

“Planning for the annual Island Fair. The
organizers invited someone to bring in a petting zoo ... sheep,
dogs, pigs, cows, burros, goats and all that.”

“So?”

“Some of the islanders feel this is cruel
imprisonment and exploitation of animals. They’re threatening to
picket and boycott the Fair if the animals are brought in.”

“Conflict in paradise? Sounds like a book
chapter. Maybe we should attend the meeting.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m glad we agree on something.”

“Look,” he huffed, “we aren’t going to go
through that again.”

“No. Let’s just ignore chapter five. Maybe
no one will notice it’s missing.” Not a hint of dimple showed on
either cheek. “I’ll get it,” she said when the phone rang.

Tony dried off jotted notes on a steno pad
when she returned. “That was Liz. She’s got an autograph signing
party set up at a bookstore grand opening in Seattle.”

“When?” Tony asked.

“Next week on Friday.”

“What kind of notice is that?”

“Michael Crichton canceled and left them
scrambling.”

“Great. I get to be one of the subs off the
bench again.”

“Not you ... us.”

“Us?”

“Promontory
was picked up by the Traveler’s Book Club. Liz thinks this
will be a great way to have a second launch of the book. She wants
us both there to do a signing. Besides, we can announce we’re
working on
Fox Island.”

“What about
Shotgun Creek?”

“She insisted on
Promontory.”

“Well, sure, that’s fine. Do we have
anything else?”

“Not on my calendar.”

“Will Liz work it with us?”

“She’s lined up a publisher’s rep to handle
the chores.”

“As long as we don’t sit around talking to
ourselves most of the afternoon.”

“Should be good traffic ... grand opening
and all.”

“Well, go ahead and call her back. We
haven’t been to Seattle much since we came up here.”

“I already told her we’d do it, but I warned
we might not be speaking to each other.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘Doesn’t this happen every
summer?’”

“It’s really not that big a deal. You didn’t
have to go telling everyone in New York.”

“I didn’t. I only told Liz.”

“Same thing.”

Price adjusted the straps on her suit. “I
know what’s eating you, Shadowbrook. You feel slighted to be called
after the big boys cancel out, right?”

Tony gazed at the Sound. Canada geese soared
like an arrowhead over a large sailboat. “Think I’ll go for a hike
along the shore.”

“I thought you just went running.”

“I did. I just want a little walk.”

“Let me pull on some shorts and I’ll join
you,” she said.

“Alone.”
Just
once, Lord.
Just once he’d like to know how it feels
to be the first one called. On the top of the list. Nothing flatter
than a low-on-the-rung writer having a mediocre day.

By the time Tony returned, Price prepared
broiled lemon almond chicken, brown rice pilaf and fresh green
beans from the neighbor’s garden and watched CNN Headline News on
the small kitchen television set. When she glanced up, he thought
he detected a slight dimple.

“How was your walk?”

“Good. I... eh... look, you were sort of
right. I guess every once in a while I get a glimpse of myself from
a distance. And... I get a little tired of finishing second or
third. ‘If you ain’t the lead dog, the scenery never changes,’ kind
of thing.”

“Come on, number two dog, eat your chow.”
This time the dimples were obvious.

“Honey, listen, I really...”

“Hey! Good, you’re not busy.” Melody burst
through the front door, bounded up the stairs, and strolled into
the kitchen.

“We were about to eat supper.”

“Oh, no thanks. I’m not hungry. I bought a
pizza and ate half of it on the way home from Mom’s. Do you want to
hear something really weird?”

“It won’t ruin our meal, will it?” Tony
asked.

“Oh no. It’s not gross or anything. It’s
about that guy, Bennington. You know what? There’s no Lloyd
Bennington in Chestertown, Maryland.”

“Maybe he lives out in the country,” Tony
suggested.

“I checked out all of Kent County. Then I
checked out Queen Annes County. I even looked at the town of
Chester.” Tony shrugged. “Maybe I remembered the name wrong.”

“Well, I looked up things like Floyd
Bennington and even Lloyd Pennington. No luck.”

“It had to be the right name. You said it
got a strong reaction

out of your grandmother,” Price
remarked.

“What about the hotel? What did your friend
at the Airport Hilton find out?”

“All she could tell me was that no man by
the name of Lloyd Bennington stayed at the hotel for the past
month.”

“Did anyone from Maryland stay at the hotel
on the day that Bennington was here?”

“She can look up an individual name, but
that’s all. The rest is confidential.” Melody opened the cupboard
and retrieved a glass bowl. “That rice looks good. Think I’ll just
have a little.”

She slipped into the chair at the table
between Price and Tony. “This thing is getting really weird. Some
guy pops in here, gets Grandma stirred up by the mention of his
name, then disappears off the face of the globe. I feel like I’ve
stepped into The Twilight Zone.”

“I suppose he could have given you a
fictitious town,” Price suggested.

“But why?” Tony eyed Melody heaping spoons
of rice and tossing beans on top.

“Nothing like leaving conflict and confusion
wherever you go. Hey, did you two get those ‘creative differences’
settled? Wow, those earrings are really cool, Dr. S.”

“Thanks. Tony bought them for me last
summer. I think they’re hand painted, don’t you?”

“I think you’re avoiding my other question.
But, hey, that’s none of my business.”

“Speaking of fights,” Tony broke in, “what
do you know about this meeting at the Community Center
tonight?”

“Is that tonight? Wow, I forgot and I’ve got
to go. It looks like the hippies are up to it again.”

“You don’t really call them hippies anymore,
do you?” Price asked.

“That’s one of the nicer terms. When I was
real little they moved here on the Island in swarms. They camped in
trees, broke into summer cabins, rented old barns, and moved in two
dozen people. That was a zoo.”

“I suppose the same thing happened all up
and down the coast.” Tony bit into a piece of juicy,
done-just-right chicken. “Plenty moved into Arizona about then,
too, a reflection of the era.”

“Yeah, well, up here they started growing
marijuana and who knows what else? They really stunk, bad. As soon
as you walked into a room or business, you could tell if one was
there. I bought my VW from some of ’em, and I had to get it
completely re-upholstered and re-carpeted to get the smell out.
Shelli Teasdale and me cut through the trees west of 11th Avenue
toward the Inlet, and this grimy guy with a hatchet chased us all
the way to 9th. I thought he was going to kill us. The Teasdales
moved to Steilacoom right after that.”

“But that was the ’70s. This is the ’90s,”
Price cautioned. “Some of them moved on, but lots of them moved in,
stayed, and became good citizens. I’ve got good friends that used
to be heavy in that stuff. They have steady jobs and take baths and
everything. But look at this petting zoo thing. A classic example
of misguided energy. It’s meant to help kids love and appreciate
animals. They get to pet a calf or a piglet. Maybe they’ll actually
consider animals to be more than the main ingredient in a Big Mac
or hot dog. So, why are they boycotting the Island Fair?”

“We thought we’d find out for
ourselves.”

“You’re not going to mention this in your
book, are you?”

“Oh, we don’t know. Might be a little
something we could use.”

Melody’s usual bright smile faded. Not one
of her teeth showed. “I certainly can’t think of any reason you
would even want to consider writing about this.”

“Could be we’ll find out how remote
communities solve conflicts. Something like that.”

“If Harvey Peterson is there, you’ll find
out about settling conflicts.”

“Peterson? What’s Harvey have to do with a
petting zoo? He doesn’t think it’s part of a government cover-up,
does he?”

“Harvey is active in everything that happens
on the Island. He seems to thrive on being in the middle of every
conflict. He’s the one who sawed down that big pine tree and shoved
it into the Sound with two of the tree huggers still chained to
it.”

“What happened?” Price asked.

“Oh, they let him off with just a fine.”

“No, what happened to the two chained to the
log?”

“The Coast Guard rescued them. Last I heard
they moved to north-central Idaho.”

“So, Harvey Peterson is sort of a
counter-activist?”

“That’s a mild way of putting it.”

“Sounds like you have a few extremists on
both sides. This meeting will beat staying home to watch TV,” Tony
remarked. “You two never watch TV anyway,” Melody added.

“I’d always rather read a good book,” Price
said.

“Speaking of good books, I stayed up to 2:00
A.M. rewriting my opening paragraph. If I show it to you, you’ve
got to promise not to use it in one of your books.”

Tony held up a hand. “You got it, kid.”

“Listen.” Melody stared down at her
half-eaten plate of rice and beans. “I’ve got some rotten news.
Grandma Jessie kind of laid down the law at me today. She said she
wouldn’t do any interviews... ever. It’s really unreasonable, and I
don’t know what to do about it.”

“I wish we could just meet her and let her
know we’re not trying to exploit her,” Price mused.

“Do you think she might change her mind?”
Tony prodded. “It’s like Grandma is afraid of something. She’s been
a recluse so long, she’s built up a fear of talking to strangers.
Besides, she’s getting real forgetful and it embarrasses her.”

“What do you mean?” Price asked.

“Like last spring when Kim went with me to
see Grandma Jessie. Remember I told you Kim’s into painting? Well,
she was thrilled to be able to ask about some techniques that
Grandma used on the ‘Two Girl’ paintings... and Grandma Jessie
couldn’t even remember how she did them. That sort of thing really
depresses her.”

“We certainly don’t want to depress her, but
we’d really love to have her talk about the old days on the
Island,” Price added. “A few quotes from Jessica Davenport would be
invaluable.”

“Maybe you and Melody could just peek in the
door and say ‘hello’ or something,” Tony suggested. “That wouldn’t
be too threatening, would it, Melody?”

“Maybe. I could at least tell what kind of
mood she’s in and perhaps introduce Dr. Shadowbrook. I was hoping
she wouldn’t be this way, since I know you guys and all. Anyway,
I’ll keep working at it. That interview is my summer goal, even if
it doesn’t look too promising.” Melody scooped her fork into the
rice and leaned over the plate to engulf the whole bite.

“Do you want to ride down to the community
meeting with us?” Tony offered.

“Sure, we can take my car if you want,”
Melody mumbled.

“Oh no,” Tony laughed, “if we show up in a
VW bus they’ll expect us to carry a protest sign.”