“TOOK Y’ALL LONG ENOUGH,” Diane yelled once they got close enough to the dock. “What the heck were you two doing out there?”
Allen brought the boat alongside the dock. Despite her tight skirt, Diane took the bowline from Ishmael and bent down to fasten the line to the cleat.
Allen was grinning ear to ear. “What’s with the wardrobe change, Johnny Cash? I’ve never seen you wear that much black.”
“I’m not trying to rain on everybody’s parade, but I think we better get a move on and figure out some plan of attack here before this little lady becomes a roadside attraction.”
“It’s cool,” Allen said. “We’ve got a plan.”
“Well, the reason I’m wearing this dark attire—that completely washes out my complexion—is because we’re supposed to be at a memorial service for the Little Mermaid here in about twenty minutes.”
Allen looked down at the board shorts and flip-flops he was wearing.
“It’s all good,” he said. “We can make that.”
“It’s in La Jolla,” Diane said, lifting one eyebrow.
Allen looked at Ishmael.
“La Jolla?” he said, shaking his head. “Here you are, born and raised in Leucadia, and Nicholas holds the memorial service in La Jolla. What’s that about?”
Ishmael stepped off the boat. “You know, in another reality, you might have actually liked Nicholas. He’s a good guy.”
“For starters, I’m not going to that memorial service if it’s in La Jolla,” Allen said, stepping off the boat. “And secondly, we’re headed to the pawn shop.”
Allen lifted Ishmael’s hand in front of Diane’s face.
“Damn-nation,” Diane said.
Allen dropped Ishmael’s hand and checked the lines to secure the boat.
“Pawn shop’s a bad idea,” Diane said. “You won’t get nearly what it’s worth. Captain Harry might know some black market guys that—wait, what are you doing that for? Where are we going?”
“We?” Allen asked. “I’m not sure we are—”
“South Carolina,” Ishmael said.
“Shoot! Why in the heck would we go there?”
Allen and Ishmael climbed the metal ramp toward the parking lot. Diane called after them.
“I haven’t been back to the South in almost twenty years!
And I have no intention of going back to that po-dunk part of the country now!”
“Suit yourself,” Allen said as he climbed into the truck.
The diesel engine rumbled to a start.
“Well, it sounds like it’s just the two of us.” Allen said. “You up for this?”
Allen took Ishmael’s hand and squeezed it.
“Man, your hands are freezing,” he said, rubbing her palm. Diane rapped on the window. Allen let go of Ishmael’s hand. “I assume this means you’re coming with?” he asked. “Assume makes an ass out of you and me,” she said. “But I’m sure as hell not driving off by myself to some memorial service for someone I know isn’t dead!”
Allen craned his neck out the window and a smile broke his face. “Well, well, well. I see you even packed a bag. How clever of you.”
“Listen here, Allen. I realize I’ll be taking the backseat on this mission. But y’all are going to need a navigator when you cross over to the other southern coast of the country. So let’s play nice. And, yes, I packed a bag. I had a pretty strong suspicion we weren’t going to stick around here and let our girl get discovered. I just thought we’d go somewhere fun.”
Allen got out of the truck and pulled the seat forward. Diane climbed in, leaving her bag on the ground.
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, Diane. I’ll get that for you,” Allen said. He carried the suitcase around the back of the truck.
“So, darling, where exactly are we headed?” Diane asked Ishmael as she situated herself in the backseat.
Allen rummaged in the truck-bed camper behind them, organizing. “Ah, Butter Island, I guess. It’s somewhere off the South Carolina coast. I have a grandmother there. My mom’s mom.”
“Butter Island? What the heck—wait, are you talking about But-ler Island?” Diane asked.
“I guess,” Ishmael said.
Allen opened the door and climbed into the driver seat. “Good news,” Diane said as soon as he had closed the door. “I’ve already earned my weight in gold.”
Allen looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Margarine Island—I think that’s where you two were headed before I got in the car?” She leaned forward. “Well, now we’re heading to a place that actually exists.”
Allen looked at Ishmael and then back at Diane in the mirror. “Butter Island?” he asked. “You know where it is?”
“But-ler Island. And yes. Spent three summers in a row there.” She crossed her arms and leaned back, knowing she had their attention. Charm bracelets on her arms jingled. “Dated a guy from Butler who worked on a shrimp boat. My parents hated him. Best summers of my life. Forbidden loving is the best loving.”
Allen chuckled, sliding the truck into motion. “Wow. And with that, we’re off like a prom dress.”
“Butler’s not exactly a booming metropolis,” Diane said. “You know your grandmother’s name?”
“Maggie,” Ishmael said.
“Then I’m pretty sure we can find her. It’s a small world, sugar. Mr. Walt Disney was right.”
Allen shifted his eyes to look at Diane in the mirror.
“What’s Captain Harry think about you leaving like this?” he asked.
Diane waved Allen off with the flick of her wrist.
“Ah, he don’t care. He’s headed to Miami first thing tomorrow for some boat show. I was going to fly there next week anyway and meet him. Flights are cheaper out of South Carolina. Plus, he’s been saying you needed to get out of town.”
“Me? What have I got to do with this?” Allen asked, turning his head to look at her.
Diane pointed to Ishmael with her nail file.
“You’ve been moping around like a lost puppy since her truck went off the cliff.”
Allen accelerated onto the freeway, staring straight into the horizon.
“Diane, how much did you tell Captain Harry?” Ishmael asked. “I mean, you didn’t tell him that—”
Diane tucked the nail file in a narrow pocket of her purse. “Why, of course I didn’t, sugar,” she said, surveying the cover of a glossy magazine she’d pulled out of her purse. When she found a page in the magazine advertising perfume, she opened the scented flap, sniffed it, and then started rubbing the page on her wrists and décolleté.
“Dinner’s on me. Should we get sushi for the Little Mermaid or—no, I’m calling in pizza. I’ll get double anchovies on half.”
Allen turned to Ishmael. “I’ve got some extra clothes I keep packed away in the camper. If you want, you can change when we stop.”
Diane dialed the number to a pizza place. She held the phone to her ear, tilting the receiver away from her mouth.
“Sugar, actually, you need some more—how should I say this—feminine looking clothes.” She quickly put the phone back to her mouth. “Yes, I’ll hold.” Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, she whispered, “We’ll make sure to find us a shopping mall along the way, honey.”
Ishmael looked down at her clothes: a pleated pair of jeans from another decade and a hippie linen shirt that Allen had left in the dryer and shrunk. The sleeves of the shirt barely covered her elbows and, although she had never been much for ironing, she had to admit this shirt was in desperate need of a pressing.
“You look fine, Ish,” he said. “Don’t listen to her.”
Diane pulled a map out of her bag and handed her phone to Ishmael.
“Order whatever you want, darling. I’m paying. I just hate being on hold.”
Ishmael took the phone, and the whine of the hold music drifted into her ear.
“Just don’t give them your name,” Allen said to Ishmael. “Give them mine or Diane’s.”
“Good thinking. Name like yours doesn’t exactly blend in,” Diane said, looking at the map. “There’s nothing I like about Texas. So let’s take the 8 out east and move up north through Phoenix to pick up the 17 north, Then make our way to the 40 and head east. Where are we stopping tonight anyway?” Diane flipped the map over. “Albuquerque. Amarillo. Memphis. Birmingham. I-26. Once we get to Charleston, I can surely pick my way to the Butler Island Bridge.”
“You always carry a map of the US in your purse?” Allen asked.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the preparedness of this little Girl Scout,” Diane said. “You never know when adventure’s going to call.”
The man came back on the other end of the line; Ishmael began to order.
“I told you she’d want anchovies,” Diane said. “Didn’t I say that?”
Ishmael hung up, passing the phone back to Diane.
“Look, Diane, once we pawn this ring, we’re not exactly going to be on the sly anymore,” Allen said. “I’m going to make a few phone calls when we stop. A guy I used to be in business with, his cousin works at the pawnshop. I’m sure he’ll take the ring no questions asked, but—”
“So we’re moving into sneak mode,” Diane said with a wink. “Gotcha.”
Diane put a stick of gum in her mouth. Ishmael watched her out of the corner of her eye as Diane folded the stick perfectly on her tongue. Just like a commercial.
“I’m going to rest up for a bit. Whoo-wee. All this coming back from the dead and mermaid excitement’s got this little lady plum pooped.”
“You’re putting gum in your mouth right before you fall asleep?” Allen asked.
“Damn, Allen, you sound like a granny! Does he talk to you like this, Ishmael?”
All the time when we were dating, Ishmael thought.
Diane started fluffing a sweatshirt of Allen’s she’d found in the back; she pressed it against the window and leaned on it.
“Don’t you worry your handsome little head,” she said, as she adjusted her seat belt and closed her eyes. “Listen to whatever music you want. I can sleep through a hurricane. Anywhere and through anything, that’s what my Harry always says.”
Stars had just begun to appear, white glimmers scattered across the purple-grey sky. The truck bumped along in silence as Diane dozed off. Suddenly, Allen reached across and took Ishmael’s hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. She jerked her hand away.
“What?” Allen whispered. “I was holding your hand less than twenty minutes ago.”
“I was cold.”
“Well, that kiss you gave me on the boat wasn’t cold.”
“What? The peck on the cheek?”
Ishmael saw Diane slitting her eyes so that she could catch a visual of the scene.
“Don’t worry. I’m still asleep. Not listening,” Diane said. “That’s what it was to you?” Allen asked. “A peck?”
Allen looked hard at Ishmael and then turned his eyes back to the road.
“Allen, I said yes when another man asked me to marry him. Clearly I’m not in love with you anymore.”
Diane gasped.
“Sorry,” Diane said when they both glanced back at her. “This is better than my soaps.”
“Clearly,” Allen said. He shifted and looked over at Ishmael. “Clearly, since you popped by my apartment with no clothes on this morning. Clearly, since we’re off to the pawnshop to pawn your engagement ring.”
Ishmael took a deep breath.
“Allen, I appreciate this,” she said. “I appreciate you. You were the only one I could trust not to ship me off to a psychiatric ward or Sea World. No one else would have done this for me. Let’s just—let’s not do this tonight. Let’s not get in a fight.”
“I think you should get your own room when we stop at the hotel tonight.”
Ishmael shot a look at him, amused. A broad smile swept across her face.
“You actually thought we were going to sleep together tonight?” She stared at him even harder. “Seriously?”
Allen didn’t answer. Eyes on the road.
Ishmael shook her head and huffed out an incredulous laugh.
“Did it ever cross your mind that I might have come to you because at one point in time you were my dad’s best friend? We’re like family, Allen. We should never have crossed that line.”
“We crossed a line? I think it’s you. You’ve gotten in over your head.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m a mermaid,” she said.
Allen pulled into the pizza place, slammed into park, and loudly shut the door. The inside of the truck fell to silence.
Ishmael was fuming: she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to kiss Allen or slap him. She rubbed a hand across her buzzed scalp.
“I know you’re awake, Diane,” Ishmael said after a moment in the quiet.
“You’re doing the right thing, sugar.”
“I know I am,” Ishmael said. “Doesn’t make it easy though.”
“He’s heartbroken,” Diane said, sitting up. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah, well, I care about him.” Ishmael looked off for a moment, but then brought her attention back into the truck. “And we all know after what I’ve been through; I could stand to get laid.” She took a deep breath. “But I’ve got to keep a clear head. Not get side-tracked.”
“That-a girl.”
“Whatever lies ahead is all mine to deal with. I don’t need anyone holding my hand through all this.”
Ishmael glanced out the window.
“Here he comes,” Ishmael said, cracking open the door. “I’m going to ride in the back.”
“I’ll pass a slice or two back to you,” Diane said, reading Ishmael’s mind.
Ishmael climbed into the camper, which was a sea of blankets. Allen had laid out two sleeping bags and tossed a few pillows back there as well. She needed to get some rest. Even from the back, as soon as Allen opened the door, she caught a whiff of cheese melting on warm dough. She distinctly smelled the anchovies, suddenly aware of her hunger.
“Where’d she go?” she heard Allen ask.
“She’s riding in the camper, darling,” Diane answered. “We figured that was the safest place for her. You know, in case we get pulled over or anything. Don’t want anyone recognizing the dead girl we’ve got riding around with us.”
Ishmael was suddenly grateful Diane was along for the journey.
A sound of shuffling pizza boxes, and Diane tapped on the sliding window between the truck and the camper, passing back an entire pizza box with napkins on top. Diane winked at Ishmael, then slid the window shut.
Ishmael heard Diane moving into the front seat, seatbelts buckling.
“What do you say to rushing this special delivery?” Diane asked.
Ishmael peeked through the curtain between the camper and the cab of the truck.
“Drive straight on through. Cross country like Kerouac. I’ll grab us some energy drinks at the next gas station.”
“Yeah. Sure,” he said.
“Allen, beneath all that confidence, you know she’s afraid.” Diane lowered her voice to a whisper. “Her life’s been turned upside down.”
Allen cranked the car and then pressed the gas pedal, revving the engine.
“And you don’t think mine has?” he asked.
“You’re being selfish.”
Allen struck the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and then looked over at Diane.
“Am I?”
Ishmael admired his tousled hair through the slit in the curtain. She had to admit, he looked handsomely tortured in the moment.
“Sugar, I can think of far worse things,” Diane said. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Now let’s get this mermaid to the Atlantic before she dries out.”