Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 06 - Behind the Walls (24 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

AS DOCTOR WELBY had predicted, the weather was gorgeous, and the mid-May temperature of about sixty-five degrees gave us a perfect Saturday.

The sign in front of the Ocean Alley Tennis Club said “Harvest for All Birthday Party and Scavenger Hunt.”
Roland and a local printer had donated it.

The club is a rambling one-story building not far from downtown, since it was built long before Ocean Alley was as populated as it is now.
Today there were colorful triangle flags on long strips of string. It reminded me of a car dealership promoting a sale. The manager also had information about tennis club membership on a table near the entrance to the parking lots. I added brochures on the food pantry to his table when he wasn’t looking.

We had two hours to use the club.
Plus some advance set-up time and post clean-up time. Saturdays mornings are for lessons and team play, and early evening for doubles and singles matches for members. We had the hot time of the day, when there are no scheduled events and not too many people want to play. We weren’t going to be on the courts, but would probably hog the rest rooms.

I wanted to keep the local teens invested in Harvest for All beyond the scavenger clues, so I had asked Alicia to get a bunch of them to keep track of the canned and boxed food donations people brought.
Sylvia would collect money from those who paid an entry fee or made a donation, though neither Lance or Scoobie could talk her into wearing one of the half-aprons with pockets that the hardware store lends us for every fundraiser.

Monica had her bake sale, with Aunt Madge and Harry helping, and Aretha oversaw Scoobie, Bill, and George as they unpacked the liquid string. This was necessary because Scoobie and George had opened a case last night.
They had picked it up at Mr. Markle’s grocery store, ostensibly to have it ready to bring to the tennis club today. I did not hear all of the conversation this morning, but enough to gather that it was a good thing the
Ocean Alley Press
editor relied heavily on George before the two of them emptied a couple of cans of the stuff in the newsroom yesterday evening.
You’d think they were sixteen sometimes
.

I could see Ramona and Jennifer on the far side of the parking lot.
Ramona was doing caricatures for a small donation and Jennifer was collecting those donations. She was willing to wear an apron.

I had the scavenger hunt instructions to pass out when that started.
We didn’t want anyone to get a head start to figure out the clues for the first location. Lance and Doctor Welby were overseeing delivery people from the bakery as Harry and Megan placed six large sheet cakes on a row of tables.

What could possibly go wrong?

“LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN.” It doesn’t matter what our event is, Doctor Welby opens it with his booming voice.

“We’ll take about twenty minutes for those of you who want to change into bathing suits or older clothes to do that before we start the, uh, string spraying contest.
When that’s over, we’ll get a chance to eat some cake before the scavenger hunt.” He beamed at the crowd, which already boasted more than one hundred people. “We’re going to have a grand time today.”

With the scavenger hunt instructions safe in my fanny pack, I walked around the tennis club parking lot greeting people.
With likely visions of lawsuits in his head, the club manager had borrowed ten large canvas tarps from various building and painting contractors around town, and the tarps covered a large part of the parking lot. Probably this would be less slippery than asphalt once all the soapy foam had been sprayed.

“Now, kids,” I heard Dr. Welby say to Alicia and her friends, “I really appreciate that you’re going to hose down the tarps and parking lot when the contest is over.
Can I count on you to limit the amount you spray on people?”

As if.

Alicia caught my eye and gave me a huge grin.
Her friend Clark had an equally devious expression. I’m still not sure if they are officially dating. Alicia with her long, dark hair and huge brown eyes, would probably snare interest based on her looks alone, but she’s also funny and kind. I’ve watched Clark try to become more than a friend for months, and he actually has Megan’s approval, though she is smart enough not to say that to anyone except me.

I was still trying to figure out how to be on the far side of the parking lot when the liquid string activity started.
In theory, people were to do things like see who could shoot it the farthest, and who could draw a recognizable picture with just one can. In reality, we would all get sprayed in various colors.

I had on a Harvest for All tee shirt and denim shorts.
Aunt Madge said that she and Monica were staying behind the bake-sale table, which had a sign that said, “No Liquid String Near the Food.” I thought Monica might want to be drawn into the activity because her cardigan was not buttoned up to her neck.

Aretha said Sylvia was going to hide in the women’s rest room.
I figured if Scoobie had heard this he would have asked the club manager if he could go in after her.

“Jolie!”

I turned to see Annie Milner, who went to high school with us and is the county’s prosecuting attorney. With a sinking feeling I realized we should have made her one of the birthday honorees as well. I hoped I hadn’t hurt her feelings. She also knew a lot of attorneys who might have joined the party and donated money.
Oh well, next time.

“Annie, thanks so much for coming.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it.” She lowered her voice. “Thanks for not asking me to be one of the birthday people. With this job, I can’t make myself look too silly.”

I looked at her lovely cream-colored top and light green knit cardigan that had the same cream color in a strip down the sides next to the buttons and button holes.
“You, uh, might want to stay off the tarps when the liquid string game starts,” I said to her.

“Surely they’ll know I’m not playing,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Have you forgotten my best bud Scoobie?”

Before she could answer I heard a whoop of laughter from Aunt Madge and turned toward her.
People had started to assemble on the tarps. Many had on large black trash bags in which they had put a hole for their head. We were providing those for a $5 donation, unless someone said they could not afford one, in which case they were free.

The laughter was largely aimed at George, Bill, and Scoobie, who had on bathing suits and scuba-diving goggles complete with a snorkel in each of theirs mouths.
They also had on swim fins, so they kind of walked like ducks, only in a bit less of a side-to-side motion.

I grinned at Annie.
“It looks as if the fun is about to begin.”

I walked over to Dr. Welby.
There were six cases of the liquid string behind him, on the grass near the closest tennis court. “You didn’t get your armed guards,” I nodded at the boxes.

“George and Bill said that if anyone tried to get one early they would tackle them,” he said.

I almost snorted. “You realize they would tackle them so they could get to the cans first, right?”

Lance had heard me.
“I think the swim fins will keep them calmer than I would have anticipated.” He handed me a small sign that said birthday girl. It was in a plastic name badge holders and had a kind of elastic band that I could put around my neck.

“We put the pictures on these so you guys can’t get someone else to wear them,” Lance said.

Ramona and Jennifer walked up. Jennifer had on a beautiful bathing suit and cover-up combo and her hair was piled on top of her head, held there with a couple of large combs that were the same color as her suit. She kept looking over her shoulder. Ramona, who usually has on kind of gauzy calf-length skirts, was in cut-offs and a tee shirt that read, Ask me about the Purple Cow.

I looked at the two of them.
“Do you know something I don’t?” I asked. Lance handed them their name badges. I thought he smirked, and Dr. Welby grinned.

Uh oh.

“There is a rumor…” Lance began.

Dr. Welby seemed to deliberately cut him off by calling out, “Okay folks, almost time to get started.
Can you gather over here?”

Lance moved toward the bake sale table.
“Chicken,” I called after him. I turned to Ramona. “What rumor?”

“I’m not sure, she said, but I heard that the birthday honorees might be targets of more of the stuff than the others.”

I groaned and Jennifer gave me a stiff smile. “Do you suppose the dye in that string washes out?”

“It would have to,” Ramona said.
“The makers would get the daylights sued out of them if it didn’t.”

Jennifer looked reassured and I looked back at Dr. Welby, who was speaking again.
“Each person gets one can at a time…”

“Two!”
This came from the back of the group of about one-hundred-fifty that now stood on the tarps. “One for each hand.”

Scoobie walked over, or rather, clomped, and took the snorkel tube out of his mouth.
“I think that’ll work, Doc. It’ll save you having to keep passing them out. Could be quite a stampede.”

“Ah, never be let it said we are not flexible.
Two.” The rules were listed on two pieces of poster board that were tied to the tree branch behind Dr. Welby, but he still went over them. He was so serious it was hard not to laugh. He explained that Reverend Jamison, Father Teehan, and the minister from the Unitarian Church, Isaac Gibson, would judge the longest string shots. He and Lance would judge the string drawings on the tarps, but only after all people were finished using the liquid string.

After a final caution to not spray directly at people, especially the eyes, he said that after everyone had two cans he would do a countdown from five to begin the activity.

Who is he kidding?

The high school group was passing out the cans. They had recruited more students than usually helped at our can drives or in the pantry, which was a good thing. It was a big job to hand out cans to so many people. I noted that the boys all had cans of string sticking out of their pockets.

“Should we help?” I asked Ramona and Jennifer.

“Are you kidding?” Ramona asked. “As soon as we get near the guys we’re toast.”

“Maybe I should help with the bake sale,” Jennifer said, clearly nervous.

“I think Bill is assigned to get you,” Ramona said. “That’s better than Scoobie or George.”

“How do you know they divided up their targets?” I asked, as Jennifer looked almost panic-stricken.

“I heard Scoobie and George arguing over who got you,” she said, smiling as she took two cans from Alicia.

“Thanks,” I said to Alicia.
“Where’s your mom?”

“Hiding,” she said, cheerfully.
“But I know where.”

“Where is she?”
Jennifer asked, and stayed with Alicia, apparently to pry the information out of her.

“Who got me?” I asked Ramona.

“Not telling,” she said.

“Come on, Ramona.”

“I don’t actually know. They were still arguing when they left the store yesterday.”

“You must have a clue…” I began.

“Okay, it looks as if everyone has their string,” Dr. Welby said. “Remember to play nice on the countdown from five. Five. Four. Three. Two…”

He didn’t get to one.
Or if he did, I didn’t hear him. The shrieks and calls of “got you,” were loud and continuing. I ducked as Ramona aimed at me, but not fast enough.

“Gotcha!” she hollered, and took off.

The cans emptied quickly. Apparently, this had been anticipated, because Aretha and two of her friends each had a case in front of them and they were passing out additional cans faster than I thought they could move.

I hadn’t sprayed yet, but they wouldn’t know mine weren’t empty, so I tucked the ones I had under one arm and sprinted the few yards and grabbed two more.

“Cheater, cheater!” Scoobie yelled, and I was immediately covered in a combination of purple and yellow string. “Easter colors. Father Teehan’s idea!”

I barely got him.
He had discarded the swim fins in favor of sneakers, and moved away fast.

I could hear Jennifer squealing, and had a quick view of Bill dousing her, two-handed, before she shot back and seemed to get him in the mouth, because he started spitting.

The nape of my tee shirt was pulled back and I felt a can of string cascade down my back.

“Eeek!”
I ducked and didn’t bother looking before I sprayed. I had no idea it would be Harry. I got him in the ear before he slid away. “Careful!” I said this just before George got me with two cans, one on my shirt and one in my hair.

“Arrgh!”
I aimed a can, but barely got him in the shoulder before he was gone, laughing like a maniac.

It was over in less than five minutes, but only because the cans empty quickly and were all gone.
People were sitting on the ground laughing, and a couple of kids were sliding on the slippery tarps, as if they were an icy pond.