| |
"Johnny!" I called.
It was a couple days later and my arms were filled with a heavy cardboard box. Inside, were a ton of old Halloween decorations Granny wanted to offload. Now, I don't know if it was because she actually wanted to get rid of them, or that she still felt a sense of protectiveness for my best friend, despite his newfound wealth, and wanted to make sure he wasn't left out of the festivities because he couldn't afford some candy corn colored bunting.
I had a feeling it was the latter, but she needn't have worried. Seaside had continued its transformation into a Halloween town over the course of the week, and Johnny was on it.
His dive shack was a masterpiece.
I set down the box on a bench just to appreciate his work.
The season for getting into the water had slowed down. There were still a few brave souls with their dry suits, but that didn't mean it wasn't still frickin' freezing. Johnny seemed to have taken advantage of the slowdown, however.
He turned around and grinned, and then held out his arms to show off his décor. "Paige, may I present, my first haunted surf shack!"
He had put up some strings of purple lights, but beside that, everything was homemade. He had created a graveyard using diving fins as the tombstones, and then stuffed an old wetsuit to look like it was rising from the dead and crawling out of the sand like a zombie. And then every single item on display in his shop featured googly eyes and some sort of costume. Air canisters with capes, boogie boards with piles of yarn hair, wetsuits wrapped like mummies in toilet paper.
I laughed. "Johnny, this is AMAZING."
He tucked his long, curly blond hair behind his ears as he stepped back to admire his own handiwork, and then like a fine artist, stepped forward to adjust the tilt of one construction paper fang.
"Guess you don't need all these decorations Granny sent over," I said, holding up the box.
"Ooo!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "Hand it over, Comber." He rushed over to grab the other side and helped me put it on the counter.
"DUDE!" he said as he dug through. He pulled out a rubber bat by its elastic string. "Your Granny doesn't want any of this?" He shook his head in wonder. "I would have waited if I knew these treasures were on their way." He made a cawing sound as he made it jump up and down, and tried to land it on my head.
I ducked, laughing. "Johnny, I think you got all of us beat with what you've put together here."
He put down the bat and pulled out a plastic skeleton arm, trying to busy himself so I wouldn’t see how proud he was feeling. "This is my first time spending an October in Seaside since I was in middle school," he confessed. "Usually, I have to spend the off-season getting a part-time job on the mainland or taking off for a ski resort and working in equipment rental." He got a little choked up. "I just want it to be the best Halloween ever." He clutched the humerus to his chest like he just won an Oscar. Which, if you think about it, this Halloween did represent him winning a pretty big prize, namely a better life.
"You make sure to come do some trick-or-treating down at Bitter Beans," I told him. I pulled my long, chestnut hair out of its rubber band and smoothed all the flyaways back into place. "Don't make Granny hunt you down to see your costume."
"Fair trade, Paige!" he said, returning to the box of goodies and digging around like there was a prize at the bottom.
But then, the evening ferry horn sounded and the ship pulled into port. I noticed a lot of people disembarking. Like, way more than normal. "Huh. That's weird," I commented.
Johnny glanced up, tangled in a pile of fake cobwebs. "What's weird?"
I pointed. "We never get this many people coming in on the evening ferry. I wonder what they're here for?"
"Did they get the days of the festival confused?" Johnny asked, his brow furrowing. "Because I do that. A lot."
"I dunno," I said, musing. "Want to come find out?"
"Sure!" he chirped, excited by the prospect. He threw on his flip-flops and came out of the shack. He left a sign that said, "Back in a few minutes. Need something? Take it! Pay later. Karma." And then he trotted after me.
The mass of people were around our age, and many were dressed in low-rent Halloween gear. Not full out costumes, but a t-shirt that was printed with a pirate shirt, and a headband that had a set of cat ears. Maybe Johnny was right and they had the days of the festival confused. With Madison the self-appointed social media influencer for the event, who knew what sort of misinformation she had thrown out there.
However, they seemed to be a little lost. I waved at a girl wearing a t-shirt that said 'This is my costume'.
"Can I help you find something?" I asked.
She smiled gratefully. "You all are SO NICE on this island. SO NICE. So, we're supposed to find a saloon. For the tour?"
Johnny and I exchanged curious glances. "Um... not sure about a tour, but I can take you to the saloon. Follow me."
But instead of just her, she waved to the crowd. "This way! This NICE authentic local Seasider knows where the saloon is!" She turned to me, a vacant, friendly look on her face as the surging mass of people swept in behind us. "It is so important to get to know the locals. You know all the secrets and I, for one, am here to learn your insights on the best things to do here. Small businesses to support, local artisans... Remind me to take a selfie for my Insta when we get to the saloon."
Before I could tell her my authentic feelings about being treated like some freakish unicorn, Johnny jogged up between us. "It's like we're the Pied Pipers of Halloween town!" Johnny exclaimed, then mimed a little flute and kicked up his heels.
I was grateful for the distraction. Faced with a new sparkly thing, the group whipped their phones out and already were filming Johnny as he cheerfully led our informal parade to the front of Trevor's saloon.
Trevor was once my boyfriend. However, his uncle was a mass murderer and when he was thrown in jail, Trevor was tasked with figuring out what to do with his uncle's business. He took over, rebranded, and now was the proud owner of the one and only dive bar in town. Unfortunately, his girlfriend, Madison, took "dive bar" to a whole new level and stripped out the western saloon theme and redid it like the bottom of Davy Jones' locker.
As the wave of college kids surrounded us, I wondered if this was Madison's doing, too. They seemed her type.
And then I noticed the sandwich board in front of his bar. Written in chalk were the words: "Ghost Tours." And then, as if summoned, Madison stepped out of the trompe l'oeil painted submarine doors in a sexy wench pirate costume.
"Avast, maties!" she cooed.
Johnny's brow furrowed. "She's stealing my pirate tour idea."
"I'll be taking your $20 bills in my treasure box!" she said with a wiggle, opening up a wooden chest.
I shook my head as the crowd surged forward to hand her their cash. "I don't think anyone's going to get confused with the branding."
"If she starts handing out metal detectors to find hidden treasure," Johnny replied, "I am going to be highly irate. HIIIIGhly irate."
Madison circled the group, but when she came to us, rolled her eyes. "Please don’t tell me you're coming on the tour."
"No!" I replied, shooting down that idea dead. "Wouldn't dream of it. Just helped everyone find the saloon."
Her lips pursed like she hated the words about to come out of her mouth. "Oh. Well. Thanks."
I motioned to all the people. "Quite a crowd."
She gave a faux self-effacing shrug and flicked her blonde ponytail. "What? This? Oh, this is what I normally do when people allow me to do what I'm good at."
"Ghost tours...?" I commented.
She rolled her eyes. "Taking a rundown mess and making it magic."
I lowered my voice. "The only problem is that we don't have ghosts on this island."
She gave a barking laugh. "Well, I seem to recall you saying there was a ghost in the hardware store."
"The wind knocked down some paint trays."
"And we have had PLENTY of true crimes." She held up a handful of cash. "I can practically print money."
Suddenly, my stomach dropped into my shoes. "Wait. You're marketing what's happened here at Seaside?"
Madison shrugged. "Lemons. Lemonade. Etc."
I couldn't believe it. "We're trying to distance the island from all that. We're trying to reinvent."
"Listen, it is what it is. And I can either sell spades to the gold miners or do what you're doing, which is to tell the gold miners there is no gold here. Except there is." She shoved the stack of money back into the box. But before I could say anything more, Madison swiveled to face the group. She threw her hands in the air and shouted like a drunk sorority sister, "Alright! Let's get this party started! Who wants to see some murrrrder!"
I watched the gang make their way down the street and then turned to Johnny, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. "I can tell you, I'm about five minutes from killing someone myself."