eighteen

The roads from Rockville to Bridgeton were anything but straight. Francine felt she was on a mission to get there and get back, so she was driving a little faster than the posted speed limit. The sun had baked the interior of the car despite the cool weather. With her coat on, Francine was feeling a little nauseous. But apparently not as much as Charlotte.

“I’m gonna throw up! I’m gonna throw up!” Charlotte said, clamping her hand over her mouth like she was trying to hold it back.

“Should I pull over?” Francine asked. Charlotte didn’t normally get carsick but she was making abnormal burping sounds. “I think there are some wet wipes in the console. Can you get them, Alice?” Alice sat in the middle of the back seat of Francine’s car. Other than Charlotte, who was swaying in the front seat like a wounded seal ready to take her last dive into the deep, Alice was best positioned to get the wipes out.

Alice unbuckled her seat belt and scooted forward, flipping the top of the console up. “What good will that do? These thing are too tiny to mop up if she blows her lunch.”

“Use them like you would a damp washcloth. Apply them to her forehead.”

“I’m not leaning up here with no seat belt on, not with you going so fast around the curves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If I go any slower we’ll get to Bridgeton about the time we need to turn around and go back to do prep work for tomorrow’s food.” The roads from Rockville to Bridgeton were admittedly two-lane and full of curves, but Francine was taking them as slowly as she could.

Jonathan, who was driving his truck, had Toby with him. The truck hung back, almost like they sensed something was going on in Francine’s car.

“Nothing is more nauseating than the smell of someone throwing up,” said Alice. “If she throws up in here, I will too, and then I’ll be wiped out for the rest of the day. No food for tomorrow.”

Joy was playing with her phone in the back seat. “There’s no cell reception out here, either, so I can’t check navigation to see how much farther it is or whether we could go a different route.”

Francine pointed all the air vents toward Charlotte. “There are no roads to Bridgeton that aren’t winding like this. I’ve taken us about the only good route there is. Just hang on for ten more minutes, Charlotte, and we’ll be there.”

“Can you make the air cooler? That seems to help some.” Charlotte burped again, a belch that came from down deep in her gut.

Joy sunk deeper into the down jacket she’d brought. “You might as well do it, Francine. My teeth are chattering in the cold but it’s preferable to having Charlotte vomit.”

Charlotte snatched the wipes out of Alice’s hand and pasted them on her forehead. She leaned against the car door. “Ten minutes? You promise?”

“Ten more minutes until we reach the outskirts of Bridgeton,” Francine said. They came to an intersection, and she followed another little hand-lettered sign that pointed the way. “Once we reach the traffic there we’ll slow way down.”

Joy sat up. “I just got a text! I just got a text! I don’t know how, since my phone only shows one bar of reception, but it’s there.”

“What does it say?” Alice asked. “Have you sent out a plea for someone to meet us there with Dramamine?”

“I didn’t think of that, but I can, if another text goes through. The Channel Six live remote team is out at Bridgeton! The station sent them out there to get some b-roll of the Covered Bridge Festival since they’re already out here. They want me to do a segment by the Bridgeton Bridge since it was the one that was destroyed by arson years ago but has been rebuilt.”

Francine weighed the consequences of that. “So in essence you’re going to attract more attention to the fact that we’re out here. That might scare Zed off.”

“Everyone knows we’re out at the Covered Bridge Festival,” Joy said. “For heaven’s sake, Mary Ruth is a headliner, especially the way she sells out of food. And with the two cases of arson and my reporting both locally and on GMA, it’s not like we’re incognito. Look at it this way, I can keep the attention focused elsewhere while you search for Zed.”

“Just text them for a Dramamine,” Charlotte pleaded.

Francine was relieved Charlotte managed to hold it together until they rolled into Bridgeton. There was a major slowdown of cars, and the locals were out in force with homemade parking signs trying to get them to parking spots. $3 Parking This Way! read one sign held by a woman in a wheelchair. The sign directed people down a dirt-packed road past her trailer home.

“Should we take that?” Alice pointed to the sign. “I know it’ll be a long walk for Charlotte, but I want to get her out of the car.”

Francine inched forward past the woman. “No, I’m not afraid of paying five dollars as we get closer. The uneven ground will be bad for Charlotte’s ankles.”

“I just hope there’s a parking spot left in a five-dollar lot,” Joy said. “Look at all the people!”

“I’ll be okay.” Charlotte mopped her forehead with the wipes. “It’s better now that we’ve slowed way down. I have a giant headache, though.”

People are meandering in front of the car like cattle and chickens in third world countries, Francine thought. This is crazy. She was tempted to beep her horn but no one else in front of her was doing it, and that was a good twenty cars. They just maneuvered around the people as they could.

“The fact we had rain last night and the drop-offs on the side of the road are still wet doesn’t help.” Alice had her face plastered against the window. She stared wide-eyed as Francine’s front bumper passed just inches from a stubborn woman who refused to move to the right to let the car get by her.

Joy was still texting on her phone. “The Channel Six van is straight ahead. They’re actually at the covered bridge. They say to just keep going and eventually you’ll get through.”

“Do they have any advice on parking?” Francine asked.

“Just a minute.” Joy used two thumbs to tap out a message. A few seconds later she said, “They said there’s a parking lot on the other side of the bridge that still has spaces in it. Five dollars.”

“That’s what I expected to pay.”

The crowd wouldn’t part like the Red Sea, and consequently it took fifteen minutes for them to make the torturous trip from the edge of Bridgeton to the actual site of the bridge. Jonathan was still behind them. When they arrived at the parking lot, Francine found a close spot but Jonathan had to drive farther down the lot. Alice jumped out and helped Charlotte from the car. “If you’re going to vomit, do it out here.”

Charlotte bent over and made a few gagging noises. Finally she straightened back up. “I’m trying, but it’s not coming. I think maybe I’ll be okay.”

“Come with me,” Alice said. “I’m going to find you some Dramamine.” She looked at the others. “I’m not making the trip back to Rockville until this woman has medicine.” She handed Charlotte’s cane to her and shut the door.

Joy pointed to the Channel Six van. “I don’t want to look like I’m trying to be a hotshot reporter or anything, but I need to get over to the crew and see what they’re doing and if they need me. Since it looks like we’re dividing up, where will we meet?”

Francine opened the trunk and pulled the bags of food and clothing that Jonathan had obtained earlier to give to Zed. “Is the news van going anywhere? Maybe we can use it as an anchor point.”

“The van is right by the bridge on this end, which is where all the shops are. If you come back and find it gone, just meet where the van is now. The bridge won’t go anywhere. At least I hope not.”

Alice looped her arm in Charlotte’s and they headed out toward the bridge area, where there were at least a few regular stores, not ones that only set up for the Covered Bridge Festival. “Maybe there will be a drug store or some sort of general store that has over-the-counter medication,” she said.

“Good luck!” Francine called after them. Joy hadn’t wasted any time and was already on her way toward the Channel Six van, leaving Francine to wait for Jonathan and Toby in the sea of cars.

“Where is everyone?” Jonathan asked. The suddenness startled Francine. He’d come up behind her.

“Where’d you come from?” she asked.

“We had to park three miles away,” Toby exaggerated. “My Fitbit says I got ten thousand steps just finding you.”

Jonathan scanned the area, amused. “What happened to your carload?”

“Charlotte got carsick. Alice took her to find Dramamine. Joy is over there with the Channel Six news crew.” She pointed toward the Bridgeton Bridge.

“You know what Alice told my grandma?” Toby said. “Alice said where she and Joy used to be like sisters, she feels her sister has replaced her with a career.”

Francine set the bags on the ground. “I think she’s still getting used to the notoriety. It feels like she’s had the job for a long time, but it’s only been four months. I hope Alice will give her a little more time. We don’t even know that this will last, given the fickle nature of the news business.”

“True. And Grandma certainly appreciates the help she’s getting from Alice.”

“It looks like the two of them have bonded over the catering business. Maybe Joy and Alice are just excited about having second careers so late in life.”

“You and Charlotte should be detectives!” Toby said. “That would be good second careers for you.”

Jonathan vigorously shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Francine picked up the bags. “Just keeping Charlotte out of trouble is enough of a job.” She checked the bottom of the bags and saw a smear of mud. Then she looked at her shoes. They were muddy too. “We need to get up toward the road so my shoes don’t attract any more mud.”

“I think I’ll go find Alice and Charlotte,” Toby said. “See how they’re doing.”

Francine walked toward the road. “I know Zed told me to come alone, but I’m keeping Jonathan by my side. The two of you can do what you like. Just don’t stray too far from the news van. That’s our meeting point.” Francine pointed him in the direction Alice and Charlotte had headed.

That left her and Jonathan. “So where are we going?” he asked.

“Zed didn’t give me any instructions. He only said he’d find me. I thought we’d walk the main road from the bridge to the end of town where we drove in, and then back.”

“The crowd’s thick, so that should give him good cover.”

Jonathan took one of the bags and together they watched where they stepped until they were out of the field that was serving as parking lot and onto the paved road. They were close to the Bridgeton Bridge. They could see Joy standing with a cameraman outside the van, which was parked in front of the bridge. The crowd that flowed around them on their way to walk through the bridge gave them second and third glances. A few people stopped to ask Joy for her autograph, which then caused more people to stop.

“It might be a good idea for us to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and Channel Six,” Francine said.

She and Jonathan began to pick up the pace. Francine was torn between looking side to side in the hopes of seeing Zed and watching in front of her to make sure she didn’t run into anyone. Or that no one ran into her.

“Do you think he’ll be in disguise?” Jonathan asked.

“He’ll certainly stand out if he isn’t.”

Vendors were stacked up along each side of the road like books in a bookcase, broken occasionally by pathways that led the crowds back to where even more crafters could be found. Jonathan seemed disgusted by the whole thing. “This is what I hate most about the Covered Bridge Festival. All this stuff is just … stuff.”

Francine gazed at the sea of people coming toward them. “Have you ever seen this many people dressed in fall-themed sweatshirts?”

“Ugly sweatshirts. It’s a fad.”

“They’re certainly ugly.” Francine spotted one in a screaming orange color that had a giant jack-o’-lantern with eyes that indicated the pumpkin was drunk. The round face of the sizeable woman who wore it was reddish. It was possible she was soused, as well.

The smells of the festival that Francine had admired back in Rockville were less prominent here, perhaps because of the sheer size of the spectacle Bridgeton had become. What was usually a tiny center to the burg, anchored by a grain mill on Big Raccoon River when the county was new, swelled to a giant marketplace during the two weeks of the festival. The carnival atmosphere stretched as far as Francine could see on both sides of the only road going through Bridgeton. There were so many food smells colliding with each other that she couldn’t distinguish any, so there was nothing to enjoy about it.

“What’s a bamboo pillow, and why are they so big?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know,” Francine said, continuing on. A few moments later she realized Jonathan’s curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he’d stopped back at a booth. Before she could turn around, someone put their arm around her. A man she didn’t recognize clamped his hand over her mouth and steered her toward a nearby pathway, pulling her toward a vacant booth draped in black cloth where no one, especially Jonathan, would be able to see her.