Chapter 12

Marisol Cruz

2007

Mari walked the path through the redwoods from McHenry Library, emerging into the sunlight near the Bay Tree Bookstore. A crowd of students had gathered around a makeshift podium in the courtyard, listening to a presentation. There appeared to be a job fair going on, with booths set up outside beneath blue tents.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, Mari peered up the hill to see if a shuttle was approaching. The speaker’s voice carried on the breeze.

“And that’s how you can become successful like me. Hustle hard, dream big, and work every day toward your goal. Don’t take no for an answer.”

Clenching her teeth, Mari recognized the speaker. Travis Harcourt stood at the podium in a pair of gray slacks and a polo shirt, his stage smile smug as ever.

“You know, I hate to say it, but that guy sounds like a douchebag.”

Mari turned around, startled to see Jason standing behind her.

“Where did you come from?”

“I walked over from Kresge College, where my office is. I was about to grab some lunch. What are you doing here?”

“I went to McHenry Library for research,” she said, her eyes homing in on Travis. The heat of anger began to creep up her neck. “Hypocrite,” she muttered.

“Do you know him?” Jason asked.

Mari nodded. “He was in my graduating class. He’s the son of the mayor. Everything he’s ever wanted has been handed to him. How can he talk about the value of ‘hustling hard when he’s a trust fund kid?”

Jason smiled, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “This proves I have a good people radar. I knew he was a total bro from the second I heard him speak.” His eyes twinkled. “And I knew you were cool the moment I met you at the diner.”

Mari laughed. “You’re a good judge of character. Not only is he a total bro, but he’s also tearing down the gazebo to build luxury condos.”

“So that’s what privilege looks like,” Jason said, looking Travis up and down. “Check out his shiny leather loafers. Who wears those on campus?”

Mari eyed Jason’s old-school tennis shoes, poking out from beneath his black pants. He had on a T-shirt with some kind of graphic design, and a hooded sweatshirt. Not exactly work attire—though computer programmers were notoriously casual. His sense of style didn’t seem to have evolved since the grunge era, but she found it endearing that he still dressed like the skater boys she used to crush on.

“About the gazebo,” Jason said. “Are you applying for the grant I told you about?”

“I am. But that doesn’t mean I’ll get it.”

“You will. You have more passion than most girls.” His cheeks colored. “I mean more conviction . . . You know what I mean. Girls in my hometown don’t want to be anything more than housewives.”

“That would bore me to tears,” Mari said, noticing how cute he was when he blushed. “And who says I’m not passionate? I’m Latina, I can’t help it.”

“Shut up,” Jason said, smiling.

As the shuttle pulled into the bus stop, Mari’s stomach sank. To her surprise, she didn’t want her conversation with Jason to end.

“Well, this is my bus. It was nice running into you.”

“You still have my number?”

“I threw it out,” Mari deadpanned.

Jason looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“I’m kidding! Let’s get lunch sometime. I know all the good spots on campus.”

His smile returned. “I’d love that. Next time we hang out, you’ll be the Swanson Grant recipient.”

Mari rolled her eyes. “Don’t hold your breath.” But when the shuttle doors shut behind her, she smiled. Had she just offered to get lunch with a guy, like it was no big deal? As the bus traveled down the hill, Mari watched the sun sparkle on the Pacific and let hope balloon in her chest. She had a chance of winning that grant money and making something of herself. And she looked forward to seeing Jason again.

THE OCEAN BREEZE cooled Mari’s skin, ruffling the hem of her yellow sundress. Tonight was one of those warm summer nights in which magic seemed to permeate the air. Was it because she was developing a crush on someone? She smiled to herself. It’d been a long time since she’d had this feeling. The neon lights of the boardwalk rides illuminated the twilight, and shrieks of delight carried from the Giant Dipper roller coaster.

A young couple approached her booth, arm in tattooed arm. The girl wore a swipe of red lipstick, her hair done up in a 1940s style popular with rockabillies.

“I like your dress,” Mari said.

“Thanks,” she answered, holding out the hem of her blue, polka-dot frock. “I got it at the vintage shop over on Pacific Avenue.”

“We’d like to buy some raffle tickets,” the guy said, his hair close-cropped at the sides and slick with pomade. Aside from the tattoos, these two could be straight out of Mari’s grandmother’s era.

“Sure, they’re ten dollars each. How many?”

“Let’s get three.”

As Mari ripped three raffle tickets from her wheel, the girl pointed at the Giant Dipper. “Do you know how old that thing is?”

“It opened on May 17, 1924, so it’s eighty years old. It’s the only wooden roller coaster on the West Coast that’s still the centerpiece of an amusement park.”

“This place is awesome,” the guy said, handing Mari a twenty-dollar bill and a ten. “We grew up in Michigan, and we don’t have anything like this back home. But we love living in Santa Cruz. We got married here, on the beach.”

“At the gazebo?” Mari blurted.

The girl gave her a funny look. “It’s kind of decrepit, I didn’t think it would look great in photographs.” She pointed in the opposite direction, toward the pier. “We got married there, at the Carousel Beach Inn.”

“Oh,” Mari said, hiding her disappointment. “That’s a nice hotel.”

Watching the couple walk away, she checked the time on her phone. Her mom was supposed to drop Lily off at seven, so they could get the funnel cake she’d promised. But first the raffle winners would be announced.

Mayor Harcourt took the stage, and Mari clapped half-heartedly. He smiled and waved at the crowd, his thick mustache and round belly lending him a friendly appearance, like the uncle who made everyone laugh at family parties.

He took the microphone in his hand. “Hello, Santa Cruz locals and visitors! It’s wonderful to see you all tonight.”

The applause grew louder, and people gathered around the stage, some carrying tots on their shoulders who happily licked ice cream cones.

“There are a number of special events planned to help celebrate the hundredth summer of the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Don’t miss the gymnasts from the Moscow Circus, who’ll put on a free performance tomorrow night here at the beach bandstand.”

He paused, looking at Mari. “And if you haven’t already, please stop by the Santa Cruz Museum of Art & History booth, which is displaying artifacts from the Beach Boardwalk archives that are rarely seen outside the museum.”

Mari felt her neck flush with so many pairs of eyes turned toward her, but she smiled and waved at the crowd of onlookers.

The mayor continued, “And at ten o’clock tonight, we’ll be screening one of the most popular movies ever filmed at the boardwalk. The Lost Boys. Whoo, vampires! Spooky.”

The crowd laughed, and Mari couldn’t help herself from smiling. The mayor, with his goofy dad humor, was so different from his son, Travis.

“Before I announce the raffle winners,” the mayor said, strolling across the stage, “I’d like to say how proud I am to call this city home. My father, Charles Harcourt, established roots here with the Oceano Golf Club, but he was also a man of the people, committed to helping our community. Like many, he made personal sacrifices for the betterment of his family. He sold the club and donated the proceeds to charity.”

Mari scoffed. Sacrifices? He didn’t even serve in the war! She looked longingly at the gazebo, a pale specter against the deep blue ocean. The rush of the waves drowned out the mayor’s voice. In her mind, jazz music played and Abuelo spun Abuela around the dance floor, a white flower tucked behind her grandmother’s ear.

Raffle numbers were being called out vaguely in the distance while Mari continued to watch her grandparents dancing. Her throat tightened.

“You must be the young woman in charge of the museum booth.”

Mari’s mouth fell open, startled to see the mayor standing in front of her. Lost in her daydream, she hadn’t realized he’d finished speaking.

“Yes,” she said, putting on a bright smile, though she hadn’t forgiven him for the construction project he’d approved. “Mari Cruz. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He shook her hand heartily. “Mayor Harcourt, but you can call me Tom. I wanted to personally congratulate you on how many raffle tickets you’ve sold. I’ve heard it’s a town record!”

“Thank you,” Mari said. While his kindness seemed genuine, he was likely working in his own best interests as a politician. “I listened to your speech,” she said, her heart beating faster, “about your father selling the Oceano and donating the proceeds to charity. What charity was that?”

“The American Friends Service Committee,” Mayor Harcourt replied. “It’s a U.S.-based Quaker aid society, which was instrumental in providing relief services in Germany and later throughout Europe during World War Two.”

Mari’s jaw fell open. “The one that helped evacuate Jewish children from Europe and bring them to America?”

“That’s right.” His eyes twinkled with pride.

Mari bit the inside of her cheek. Perhaps she had the wrong idea about Charles?

“Mom!” Lily skipped toward Mari, Paulina trailing behind her. “Are you finished yet? I want funnel cake! Can we go on the rides?”

Mari wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder, holding her tight. “In a minute, sweetheart. Go back to Abuela.”

“Well, hello there,” Mayor Harcourt said, bending down to eye level with Lily. “What’s your name?”

“Lily,” she said, sticking out her chest. “I’m four. I go to preschool and my favorite animal is a horse. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Lily, that’s enough,” Mari said. “Give the mayor some space.”

He studied her daughter. Slowly his smile faded.

“Ma,” Mari said, turning to her mother. “Can you take Lily over to the funnel cake stand? I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Paulina guided Lily by the shoulders, her eyes meeting Mari’s with a look of concern. “Of course, mija.”

“Bye!” Lily shouted at the mayor. “It was nice to meet you!”

“You too,” he said, recovering his genial smile. “My favorite animal is a tiger.”

“Cool!” Lily called as she skipped away.

Mari watched Mayor Harcourt as his eyes followed her daughter. Her stomach knotted as she saw the speculative look on his face. She hoped his confusion would pass, washing away like footprints in the sand.