Fox Island (23 page)

“It will be tough, but I think she can
handle it now.”

“What happened?”

“God’s amazing grace.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” She beamed. “‘It’s man’s part to
trust ... and God’s part to work.’”

Chapter 9

In the early 1880s, Alexander Graham Bell’s
amazing talking telegraph made its way into businesses and homes of
cattle barons in the frontier town of Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory.
Much later, it reached some of the residents of south Puget Sound.
If the building of the bridge was the golden ring to forever unite
Fox Island to the mainland, the advent of telephone service in
October 1956 was the wedding present to allow the residents
something they never had before ... instant contact with the rest
of the world.

The value of that contact is still debated
by Island old-timers.

“Liz called while you were at the store,”
Price announced the minute Tony walked into the house.

“Did she want me to call back?”

“She was headed to New Hampshire for the
weekend and said to call her Monday.”

“Weekend? It’s only Wednesday.”

Price closed the sliding glass door behind
him. “That’s what she said. Have you noticed the rolling fog is
getting chillier every day? I wonder if summer is about done?”

“We’ve got a book about done, Dr.
Shadowbrook. I figure on finishing chapter nine tomorrow.”

“Did you look at my version of chapter
five?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning for us to sit down
and talk about it.”

“We need to sit down?”

“Listen, babe, we can’t leave out that whole
section about the dogfish packing industry and the early connection
between the Fox Island economy and Puget Sound fishing.”

“As I recall, I didn’t leave it out at
all.”

“But you condensed it to a mere
paragraph.”

“That’s what editing is all about.”

“That isn’t editing, it’s amputation.”

“I would rather read about little Sheila
McComber’s harrowing ride on a raft of timber logs across the
Narrows than a detailed description of what the fish packing plant
smelled like.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. How do we know the story
about McComber is true? One of the old-timers thought the McCombers
ran the store on McNeil Island, not Fox Island. So how can we be
sure that one letter is authentic?”

Price brushed her light brown hair back with
her hand and felt a tightness in her neck. “How do we know any of
this research is authentic? Maybe every book we’ve ever read has
been a lie.”

“Hyperbolic statements to the contrary, we
can’t make a big deal out of one undated letter, Priscilla.”

“Hi, guys!” Melody bounced into the room in
a teal green sweatshirt inlaid with a liquid gold material. She
stopped and her brown eyes danced. “Priscilla? Whoops, another
chapter five day, huh? I’ll come back. I just wanted you to see
this picture.”

“What picture?” Price snapped.

“Hey, if you guys want me to, I’ll be happy
to write chapter five for you.”

Tony waved his arm in a wide, sweeping
movement. “We can work this out just fine by ourselves.”

“Yeah ... well ... sure. I thought you
might be interested in this picture I found in
People
magazine at the dentist’s office, dated
last spring. There was this big celebrity golf tournament at the
Riviera Country Club in L.A. It has some photos of different groups
of golfers. Look at this one.”

Tony took the magazine and glanced at the
black-and-white photo. “Davidian?”

“Let me see that.” Price peeked over his
shoulder.

“Yeah,” Melody continued. “Terrance
Davidian, Michael Ovitz... the guy with the Dodgers cap is a VP at
Warner Brothers, and you know who that guy is.”

Price snatched the magazine from Tony.
“Clint Eastwood?”

“You mean, Davidian really does know some of
the movers and shakers in the movie business?” Tony said.

“Apparently.” Melody clutched her hands
behind her back and swayed on her sandals.

“What do you think?” Price ventured. “You
going to let him represent you?”

“This seems to improve his credulity. So, I
guess I probably will. But I still have this feeling I’ll live to
regret it.”

Price rubbed the back of her neck. “You
can’t be any further away from a movie deal than you are now.” Tony
stepped behind her and massaged her neck and shoulders. “I guess
I’ll send the papers. I’m not expecting much to come from it,
anyway.”

“Maybe Josh can be in
Stampede Creek
when they make it a
movie,” Melody said. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Yesterday on the phone
he said...”

Price mouthed “Yesterday?” to Tony.

“...since he’s now a member of the Screen
Actors’ Guild, there’s no reason he couldn’t be in movies.” Melody
twisted her fingers as though wadding a piece of sticky gum.

”Movies! What he needs is a real job and
settle down,” Price blurted out. Ignoring the sparkle in Melody’s
big brown eyes, Price quickly changed the subject. “Tony, maybe we
ought to send both samples of chapter five to Liz and let her
figure it out.”

He stopped rubbing and stepped in front of
the two women. “I’m not about to let someone else decide how the
flow of my book should go.”

“Your book? That, my handsome husband, is
the root of the problem.”

Tony pointed at Price, his mouth open, then
lowered his arm.

“Hey, I’ll leave if you want me to,” Melody
offered.

Tony sighed. “No. There’s a good solution to
all this. We just haven’t found it yet. So, forget chapter five.
Let’s get to work on other things.”

The renewed tightness around Price’s eyes
loosened as she nodded. “Some people say it’s impossible for two
writers to exist under the same roof, but that’s not true. It’s
just mostly impossible. That’s different than totally
impossible.”

“Melody, I really appreciate your finding
that picture of Davidian.” Tony picked up a notepad near the
telephone. “Are these the things Liz called about?”

Price glanced at the notes. “Right. She’s
rushing you a sample cover for the next book in the River Breaks
series.”

“I haven’t even written
Standoff at Rifle Ridge
yet.”

“Well, that should give you some
inspiration. She wants to know if you can make the regional
booksellers convention in Denver next month.”

“She’s just now asking me?”

Price hesitated.

“Someone else canceled, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Time to send in the subs.”

“Anthony, you aren’t a sub and you know it.
She’s got some more interviews and a television deal in El Paso.
She’ll tell you all about it.”

“This is so cool,” Melody said. “I can’t
wait until I get a novel published. I’ll need a whole new
wardrobe.”

“Not for radio interviews,” Price noted.

“But television... bookstores... public
appearances. Wow, do you remember the first time someone asked you
for an autograph?”

Tony shrugged. “Nope, but writing is a lot
like any other job. Most the time, it’s plain hard work. With some
perks. Kind of like teaching, isn’t it, babe?”

“That’s for sure. Plenty of days you wonder
if it’s worth it. But it is. I think you’re really going to enjoy
teaching, Melody. Did you take that contract back to the school
yet?”

“Oh. Well, I’ve been rethinking that, Dr.
S.”

“I thought they decided on you.”

“I know. It’s exciting to have a real job
lined up. But lately I’ve been thinking about other plans.”

“What plans?”

Melody reached down and adjusted the straps
on her sandals. “I’ve been thinking about going to Arizona and
visiting some old friends ... you know, from college days.”

“Did a certain daredevil stuntman with a
sensational smile have anything to do with this?” Price asked.

Melody blushed and flung her long dark hair
over her shoulders. “Josh did invite me down for a visit. He said
there was a big special show at Rawhide Labor Day weekend and he
could get me backstage. Then he teased me about going hang gliding
with him in the Grand Canyon and stuff like that.”

“He wasn’t teasing,” Tony cautioned.

“He wasn’t? He figured I could stay at your
house. He said his and Paul’s new apartment wasn’t very far from
there.”

“Stay with us?” Tony’s eyes glazed.

“Yeah, would it be all right?”

Price quickly regained her composure. “Of
course, but that would mean giving up that teaching job. I’m not
sure the program at Rawhide is worth that.”

“It’s not just the show.” Melody flipped her
hair again. “Dr. S., did Josh ever get serious with a girl?”

“You mean, does he date them more than two
or three times?”

“Yeah.”

“I think he dated Terri Carter more than
that. She was Miss Arizona. She even finished in the top ten for
the Miss America contest.”

Melody’s face sunk into a scolded puppy
position. “I must look like a dork to him compared to someone like
that.”

“No, you don’t. You’re cute, fun, and smart.
Exactly Josh’s type.”

“Really? But what about Miss Arizona?”

“I think Terri holds the record. He dated
her five, maybe six times.”

“That’s all?”

“He wears them out. When you go on a date
with Josh, it’s six to ten hours of nonstop physical adventure.
He’ll backpack you across the Mazaztals, swim across Roosevelt
Lake, raft the Gila, and ride horseback from Florence to Casa
Grande... and that’s just the first afternoon.”

Tony nodded. “For Josh a day’s wasted if he
doesn’t do something he’s never done before and wind up totally
fatigued.”

“Sounds like a real learning experience,”
Melody said, doubt in her voice.

“So’s teaching junior highers. We’ll pray
the Lord gives you wisdom.”

“Thanks, Dr. S.” Melody bounded for the back
door. “I’ll go get chapter one of my new novel. I think it’s ready
for your critique.”

“Well,” Tony said, “we’ll get to it as soon
as we can.”

“No sweat. Take your time. But I did wonder
if we could talk about it tonight when Mom comes for supper. Did I
tell you the new title?”

“I don’t think so.” Price scrunched one side
of her face in preparation.

“I’m going to call it
Out Fox Island Way.
Isn’t that cool?
It sort of looks like outfoxed. Wait until you read it. Awesome, if
I do say so myself.” Melody scooted out the front door.

Tony sat down. “She’s going to stay with us
in Scottsdale?”

Price intertwined her fingers and put her
hands on top her head. “Here we go again, Mr. Shadowbrook. Every
summer we collect a passel of new relationships.”

“But we don’t always bring them home with
us.”

“Do you think Melody will ever learn to
write?”

“Perhaps, if she slows down, takes her time,
pays her dues, finds her niche ... and gets a life. Perhaps what
she needs is the right project. Meanwhile, I’m starved. What’s for
lunch?”

Price followed him into the well-lit
kitchen. “Take it easy. Remember, you promised to barbeque steaks
tonight.” She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged tight.
“Thanks for the back rub.”

Both Tony and Price read Melody’s chapter
before she or her mother arrived. After he started the charcoal,
Tony popped into the kitchen. “What are we going to tell her?”

“The truth.”

“You mean, there’s no way in the world it
will be published as is?”

“Not that blunt, of course. You must have
liked something.”

“She did a pretty good job describing the
girl’s feelings when the car sped out of control and barely missed
the tree.”

“Right.” Price jotted a few words down on a
pink notepad. “That’s what I thought too. Now, what else?”

Tony scratched his head and pushed his
Henley shirt sleeves above his elbows. “That’s about all I can say.
How about you? You’ve had more experience critiquing.”

Price sliced tomato wedges into the green
salad. “How about the title? Any suggestions?”

“Naming a book is like naming a baby. It’s
author’s choice. I don’t think I should give advice on the
title.”

“Is it more promising than the other
attempt?”

“Definitely more promising.”

Price scribbled again.

Tony wandered into the bedroom and pulled on
a blue-and- black Brooks & Dunn shirt with lightning flashes
and changed into his full quill ostrich boots. His big silver belt
buckle read, “NFR - ’94.” When he returned to the kitchen, Price
was hanging up the phone.

“You look mighty sharp, Shadowbrook. Who are
you trying to impress? Melody or her mother?”

“Neither. I’m going after that foxy, golden
brunette cook.” He kissed her on the back of the neck.

“I take it you’re not mad about chapter five
anymore.”

“I’m waiting for a divine miracle about
chapter five. Who was on the phone?”

“Sandra Lytoski.”

“Your department head at ASU?”

“She wants me to take another freshman
English class. I told her to shuffle the independent study around
so I wouldn’t have to come in on Fridays, and I’d do it.”

“Sounds like you struck a deal.”

“Sounds like summer is over. It’s time to
think about classes, faculty meetings, grading papers and fighting
early morning traffic. By this time next week, we’ll be
packing.”

“What time is company expected?”

“That must be them now. Why don’t you go
answer the doorbell?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I’ve noticed your hearing’s not too good.
You aren’t a young man anymore, Mr. Shadowbrook.”

“I can still catch you.”

“That’s only because I’ve never tried to run
away.”