Chapter 5
In the late nineteenth century, the isolation of Fox Island forced the residents to live self-sufficiently. They cleared the land of evergreen trees and stumps that blanketed every knoll, plain, and draw. This back-breaking task readied the soil for fruit trees, berry patches, and vegetable gardens. To supplement the diet of salmon and clams dug at low tide, most every family raised chickens, milk cows, or rabbits. Diversity was the key to survival.
It still is.
“It’s way too cluttered, that’s all,” Tony insisted.
Price pulled her hair back into a large comb. Her prescription computer glasses dropped to her chest, held by the Navajo beaded strap around her neck. She rubbed her neck muscles, yawned, and glanced around the room. “What’s too cluttered?”
Tony eased beside her on the blue-flowered couch, then yanked out several throw pillows lodged in the small of his back. “Chapter five, of course. That’s what I’ve been reading.”
“Do you mean parts of it, or the whole thing?” The soft wave of her hair emphasized her raised eyebrows.
“Well, in the first place, it’s twenty-nine pages long. We need to cut it to twenty-five pages. Here, I’ve redlined some things I think we can delete.”
Price pulled the pages out of his hand and flipped through them. “What is this?” She sat straight and tall on the full base of her authority as a seasoned university professor.
Tony Shadowbrook cradled his stocking feet into her lap. “You’ll have to admit there is such a thing as too much detail. Didn’t we talk that through last summer in Utah?”
Price squeezed out from under his legs and stood to gaze out the living room window. A lone sailboat gently bobbed in the waters in the distance. “I do remember a very heated discussion.”
“And what was our conclusion? That we would jam in all the details, then thin it out a tad to make sure the material still retained its crispness.”
Price leaned against the windowsill and tucked a hand under her chin. She brushed her lips and noticed they were chapped again. “I recall that it concluded in your buying me those cloisonné earrings and a dozen roses.”
A grin broke across Tony’s face, then receded as quickly as the tide. “Yeah, well, that’s what I did in chapter five... I thinned it out a tad.”
“A tad? In places you clear-cut it. If it were a forest, it would be an environmental disaster.”
“But it’s right at twenty-five pages, and I believe it reads pretty good.”
She spread the twenty-five double-spaced typed pages in a fan on his legs, still sprawled full length on the couch. “Why was all the ‘thinning’ done on the part I wrote?”
“That’s not true. I didn’t even consider who wrote the original. If it needed to be chopped, I chopped it.”
“I find it rather amazing that it’s always my additions that need to be deleted.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look... look... right here on page 123. See? I was describing the difference be¬tween loganberries, blackberries and boysenberries. But it’s not needed, so out it went.”
“Show me one other place.”
“What?”
“Where’s one other place in the chapter where you removed your own work?”
Tony shuffled through the pages. “Here! How about this? ‘The pink cotton candy newborn clouds hung like wash on the baby blue sky.’ I took that out too.”
“That was my line.”
“It was?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sure there’s more.” Tony sorted through the chapter, then began again.
“Good morning, Shadowbrooks. I’m headed for Mom’s to make some phone calls. Need anything from the store?” Melody swung into the room, her teeth shining whiter than ever.
“Not really, thanks.” Price dropped into the navy side chair. She ran her finger over the glass ginger jar front of the lamp stuffed with shells and starfish and traced the scalloped shells motif on the footed resin base.
She told Tony four years ago he wasn’t the kind to co-write anything. She knew this would happen again. And they had five more summers of this? They couldn’t even fight in peace. Next year, no kids. No house guests. No interruptions. Just the two of them, slugging it out.
“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.”
“Really? Do you think a VW bus still makes a political statement? I wonder if I should buy a different car? Oh, man, I just remembered that pizza is still out there. I’ll see you later. Go ahead and have a quiet supper.”
Melody was out the door when Tony shoved his chair away from the table. “She’s never going to move into Kim’s cabin, is she?”
“Not until we make her.”
“It’s like having another daughter.”
“She’s sort of halfway in between Kit and Kathy, don’t you think?”
“I miss our girls,” Tony mused. “They both have their quirks, but at least we’re used to them.”
“Why don’t you call our quirky daughters? You haven’t talked to them in a week.”
Tony dialed the Scottsdale number. A male voice answered. “This is Anthony Shadowbrook. With whom am I speaking?”
“He ain’t here.”
“Who?”
“Anthony Shadowbrook. He’s gone to Alaska or someplace. You want to talk to his daughter?”
“Please.”
“Hello?”
“Kath? It’s Dad.”
“Oh, hi, Daddy. Hey, everyone, quiet down. It’s my father.”
“What’s going on?”
“The college and career Bible study needed a place to meet. I knew you and Mom wouldn’t care... right?”
“Yeah... well... I think so. Anyway, I’m just checking on you. Is everything going well?”
“Everything’s great, Daddy. Really. There’s this neat guy at work who sure is hanging around me a lot. He’s totally cute.”
“How about Kit? Did she get rid of the calf?”
“Not yet.”
“Can I speak to her?”
“She’s not home.”
“Where is she?”
“She... went down to Mesa to look for a job.”
“A job? She already has a job.”
“She got fired from the Speedy Squirt place.”
“Fired? When?”
“Who got fired?” Price interrupted.
Tony covered the receiver. “Kit.” He removed his hand. “What happened, Kathy?”
“She lubed the boss.”
“What?”
Price frowned at him.
Tony ignored her. “Kath, what exactly does that mean?”
“I’d better have her call you. Are you going to be at the house tonight?”
“We’ll be at a meeting until, oh, say, 9:00. Have her call right after that.”
“Okay, Daddy. Are you and Mom having a neat time all alone up there?”
“It’s a ... we’re getting ... yeah, it’s a nice location.”
“I told everyone about the possibility of Shotgun Creek being a movie. We’re all praying for you.”
“Thanks, kiddo. You make sure to have Kit give me a call.” Tony hung up and stared at Price. “I have no idea in the world what it means, but she lubed her boss. Not only that, but there are fifty college kids at a Bible study in our living room.”
“The house will be a mess.”
“Kath will clean up. You know how addicted to neatness she is.”
“Maybe we ought to go home,” Price suggested.
“Are you kidding? The book isn’t half done.”
“For a few days, to settle things down, then come back.”
“We’ve got to turn them loose, Mama.”
“In our living room?”
“Yep.”
Price ate the last bit of green beans dunked in garlic butter sauce. “I feel very anxious and insecure being here when the girls need me at home.”
“They didn’t say they needed you,” Tony reminded her.
“Well, they do, and you know it.”
“Kit will have a good reason.”
“For lubing the boss?”
“Yep.”
“Well, we’ll have to get home from that community meeting by nine.”
“Sure.” Tony speared another piece of chicken. “How long could it take to decide on a petting zoo?”
At 11:15 P.M., Price and Melody crashed through the front door of the house. Tony had just hung up the receiver.
“How long have you been on the phone?”
“Oh, Kit didn’t call until ten minutes ago. How did the meeting go after I left?”
“Pretty wild. You missed the best part. What’s the deal with Kit?”
“I learned what ‘lubing the boss’ means. What about the meeting?”
“Harvey Peterson showed up with a chain saw. Now, explain Kit.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Melody broke in. “This is worse than trying to watch a tennis match. How about one conversation at a time?”
“Okay,” Tony said, “tell me about the meeting.”
“No, that can wait. Tell me about our daughter.”
“What did Harvey do with the chain saw?”
“What did Kit do to her boss?”
“That’s it, I’m out of here,” Melody asserted. “I’ve heard of plots and subplots in novels, but not in conversations. After that meeting and the hairy ride home, I need a little peace and quiet. Sorry to leave you without a moderator, but I’m going to bed.” They heard the front door click shut. Price put a pot of water on the stove’s back burner.
“What did she mean a ‘hairy ride home’? I thought you said there would be no problem catching a lift after I had to leave early?”
“There was no problem. Kenny Mallard brought us home.”
“On his Harley?”
“Yeah.”
“Both of you?”
“Yes.”
“At the same time?”
Price laughed and ran her fingers through her hair. She noticed once again how long it was getting and determined to ask Melody to recommend a beauty shop. “It was quite an adventure.”
“I don’t want to hear about it.”
She smiled and stuck a bag of Stash Licorice tea into her newly acquired Fox Island mug, the one encircled with Clay Babies. “Good. Tell me all about Kit, then I’ll tell you about the meeting.”
“No, I’ll tell you about Kit. Then I’ll tell you about Kathy. And then you can tell me about the meeting. Get your hot tea and come relax. We both need to sit down.”
“Oh, joy. Kathy, too, huh?” Price slunk into the navy stuffed chair and inhaled the licorice scent.
Tony stretched out on the carpet after folding scattered pages of The Peninsula Gateway and tossing them next to the fireplace. “Well, here goes. Mr. Conesco, Kit’s boss, came back to work today after lunch and showed Kit the new uniform he wanted her to wear ... hot pink shorts and halter. He told Kit he was giving her a raise and wanted her to work out front lining up the paperwork on the cars as they drove in.”
Price plopped her tea next to the seashell lamp. “Wearing hot pink shorts and halter?”
“You got it.”
“But that’s ... that’s sexual harassment or something, isn’t it?”
“Well, Kit wasn’t about to wear those clothes or give up any job that had to do with working on cars.”
“So, she quit?”
Tony waved his hand. “Wait now. Kit was ticked off. She said she’d be happy to wear the shorts and halter as soon as all the men who worked there agreed to wear the skimpy hot pink outfits.”
Price snickered. “Well, I guess she would say something like that.”
“Conesco went into a tirade about how he was the boss and she would do what he said or get fired.”
“Nice guy. So what did Kit do?”
Tony began to laugh. It started with a fit of chuckles and expanded to a full-scale, uncontrolled series of war whoops.
“Get a grip, Shadowbrook. This is serious.”
“Then, she ... he, she ... shoved ... the lube gun ... into his Dockers ... and... and... pulled the trigger.”
Price slid back against the chair’s stuffed cushion and shut her eyes tight.
Tony’s guffaws slowly wound down as tears streamed. He wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, the new Roper shirt with the black horse silhouettes. “When she jumped into her truck and drove off, he was still screaming curses and running around like a snake bit him.”
“At least she didn’t punch the guy’s lights out this time.”
“I guess she went home, changed clothes, drove straight to Mesa and promptly got herself a job at an auto parts store.”
“I hope they didn’t ask for references.”
“It’s owned by the father of someone she met at the drag races.”
“Is she doing all right?”
“She told me she spent time out at South Mountain Park. She suspects the Lord wants her to apologize, but she’s still too angry. She said she was going to write Conesco an apology and have Josh deliver it when he picks up her check.”
“She talked to her brother? What did Josh say about all this?”
“I think his exact words were, ‘I’d be happy to stop by and face down the sleazy creep.’”
“We need to be home.”
“They’ll survive, Dr. Shadowbrook. Kit thinks it’ll all work out. She told us not to worry.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve worried about those two since the day they were born.”
“Mama, you’ve worried about Mark and Josh just the same.”
But son worries fell into a whole different category than daughter worries. The girls definitely needed their mom there to coach them along. “What’s this with Kathy?” she asked.
“It seems this totally awesome guy at work came to the Bible study tonight. But he was having some kind of car problem with his new Camaro convertible, so Kathy invited him to stay until Kit came back, so she could look at it.”
“But Kit got home late....”
“At which time Kathy and this guy, Linc, were in the swimming pool.”
“Doing what?”
“Swimming, I guess. Kathy said it’s still over a hundred in Scottsdale. Well, Kit fixed his car, while this guy stood around dripping water off his bathing suit and visited with her. She said he was a pretty neat guy, but said he had poor taste in girls.”
“And Kathy said?”
“She said Kit was trying to hit on Linc, and if she didn’t stop, she would rip her lips off.”
“Kit? Making a pass at a boy? And what did you say?”
“I said for Kit to write the apology to her former boss, for Josh to deliver it without commentary and pick up her check. Then I told Kathy it didn’t look right to have a male guest over to swim after dark, no matter what the excuse.”
“That’s all you told them?”
“No, I said their mother would call them tomorrow and give them both a long lecture.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you’re Dr. Mama, the professor.” Tony took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay, now it’s your turn. No more stalling. What happened at the community meeting?”
“Wait a minute... my head’s still buzzing. Do you want me to warm up some coffee for you? I need another cup of tea.”
“That would be great. You know what, babe? I’m trying to figure out which daughter we should be more worried about. I suppose that’s why parents have gray hair, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but gray hair looks distinguished on men.” Price headed to the kitchen.
“listen, kid, you’re way too defensive over a couple of strands of gray. Why, you don’t look a day over... say... fifty.”
Tony didn’t even see the square leather pillow that sailed toward his head.
They sat at opposite ends of the sofa. He chugged coffee. She sipped scalding tea. Price tugged both shoes off and tucked her legs under her. Tony used a Time magazine on the end table as a coaster for the heels of his cowboy boots.
“Okay,” he began, “when I left, a short dynamo named Ms. Tulip, or Miss Tulip, stood up, with a braid as pretty as a bronc rein hanging to her knees. Tulip Something-Or-Other protested the inhumane treatment of animals by the Cascade KidsCan Pet, Inc.”
“Was that before or after Harvey Peterson ranted and raved about dismantling the bridge and bringing back the ferry?”
“What?”
She cleared her voice to the semblance of a deep bass. “‘Before the bridge, we didn’t have scumbags like you polluting our island.’”
“He actually said scumbags?”
“Yep.”
“How did that go over?”
“The animal rights crowd stood in unison, gave Harvey a ‘Heil Hitler’ salute and called him a fascist.”
“I don’t suppose that sat well with Harvey?”
“He turned red in the face and said the Fox Island cemetery held the graves of his oldest brother, his uncle and a cousin, who all died fighting fascists. Their outburst was an insult to the memory of many fine Fox Islanders, and he’d gladly step outside with any or all of the... I think his words were ‘puke-faced wimps.’”
“He called them all out?”
“Yes, but they reminded him they only practiced nonviolence.”
Tony leaned his head on the back of the cushion. “That reminds me, we ought to spend a couple hours at the cemetery reading the tombstones. Could be a story there.”
Price unfolded her legs from beneath her.
“Go on,” Tony urged. “What happened next?”
“Well, they finally got some order into the meeting, then the Wild and Free bunch ...”
“Where does the Wild and Free title come from?”
“I think it’s a national group or something. Several were from out of the state. Tulip lives here on the Island, though. Melody says she’s been here for years. Anyway, they made a big case over Ho Chow.”
“Who?”
“A Vietnamese pot-bellied pig. They had a huge blowup of an article in a newspaper in Oregon when Cascade KidsCan Pet, Inc., held their petting zoo in a shopping center at Beaverton. The charge was that they so neglected the animals that Ho Chow died of starvation.”
“Could be they have a case. How did KidsCan Pet, Inc., respond to that?” Tony asked.
“Their representative insisted the person responsible had been fired and such a thing wouldn’t happen again.”
“Both sides have a point. Sounds like an impasse.”
“For the next two hours everybody in the building gave their opinion on everything from the Vietnam War to the need to overhaul the income tax to the safe and sane disposal of nuclear waste.”
“Were any decisions made?”
“They’re against the IRS and divided over the war, and definitely don’t want radioactive material stored at the Acoustic Range.”
“But, what about the petting zoo?”
“Kenny Mallard finally settled that.”
“Melody’s buddy?”
“Yeah, Kenny said they should allow the petting zoo to participate, but they ought to appoint a committee to oversee the animal care while they’re here on the Island.”
“Ahhh, and who were the lucky ones drafted for such a thankless chore?”
“Four were chosen. Tulip, Harvey Peterson, Kenny Mallard ...” Price set her cup on the on the coffee table and kept rubbing the handle.
“And …? You said four. Who was the other one?”
“They decided to get someone from off the Island for an objective point of view.”
“Surely not...?”
“Me.”
“You? But we’re here to observe, not to get involved.”
“Melody nominated me, and everyone seemed so enthused. Frankly, I didn’t know how to get out of it.” Tony stood up and stretched. “I guess that’s one way to get to know people better.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
He tugged her to her feet. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“This isn’t a dumb line to get me into your bedroom, is it, Shadowbrook?”
“I can’t believe you’d think such a thing of me.” He nuzzled her neck. “While I was waiting around, I did a little exploration downstairs.”
“You mean, you sorted through Jessica Reynolds’ things?”
“Kind of...”
“And you found something?”
He flipped on the light and led her downstairs to a large family room, spare bedroom, and a storage area. “I think I found some additional Grandma Jessica paintings.”
“More original Davenports?”
“But they’re signed, ‘Reynolds.’ Look at these.” Tony pulled out half a dozen unframed canvases from behind a tall mahogany bureau.
“They don’t look like the others, but they’re good. Very good.”
“It’s like she gave up on the ‘Two Girl’ motif. They sort of remind me of Norman Rockwell, that is, with the realistic detail and the family life themes.”
“All the subjects are women,” Price noted.
“But there’s a hint of tragedy or sorrow in some of the faces, don’t you think?”
“Hmmm, yes. Each one tells a story within a story. When were they painted?”
“They’re all dated between 1965 and 1970. Isn’t that strange? It’s like she attempted a comeback twenty-five years later. How come there wasn’t anything in the art book about these?”
“Perhaps no one knows about them.” A chill ran up her back. Price picked up a large stretched canvas of a young girl in a heated argument with her mother over some lipstick. “This is intriguing ... a simple, universal theme, yet an overlay of haunting poignancy. Such a winsome quality. It expresses the bond of family, but with all its potential for sudden change. And sadness.”
Tony picked up another and hauled it out toward the light, examining it more closely. “We’ve got to talk with Melody’s grandmother. We’re not going to be happy with this project until we do.”
After an hour of studying the pictures, Tony and Price hiked up the stairs to the bright lights of the kitchen.
“If we can get permission, how about including some photos of these paintings in chapter six or seven?” Tony asked.
“We haven’t finished discussing chapter five.” Price scooped the pages off the dining table. “I can’t believe you said this was too cluttered.”
“It’s too busy, too disjointed, too distractive. We need to tighten it, that’s all.”
“I believe it reads quite nicely, just as it is.”
“Everything ever written could be tightened some. You know that.”
“Not this chapter. You know, Mr. Shadowbrook, I’m not quite sure why I’m even here. The girls need me in Scottsdale. You obviously don’t.”
“Of course I do. Don’t get so defensive. We’re professionals..”
“Tony, you really don’t enjoy co-writing projects, do you?”
“That’s not true. I love having you along. I absolutely detest researching a project on my own, you know that.”
“Oh sure, you like having me here. But I wonder, is it for my wit or my dimples?”
Tony walked into the living room and plopped on the sofa.
“Well?” she asserted.
“I’m thinking.”
“Then you can sit right there until you decide. This doctor’s going to bed.” Price stole away in a funk.
What’s wrong with me?
Tony didn’t totally deserve that outburst. It was something to do with the paintings. They were troubling, unsettling in how they depicted so perfectly the fragility of human relationships.
Lord, protect me and Tony.