Shipwrecked Summer (6 page)

  “See ya, Lex,” Joey said, standing up to toss his trash in the garbage can. Pia hadn’t finished her cone yet, which was exactly what I wanted. I had no desire to walk home with them and listen to her gush about how nice Anthony was.

    I didn’t need to hear it from her.

    I already knew it myself.

***

“You’ll never guess who called this afternoon,” Grandma said as I scooped a healthy spoonful of macaroni salad onto my dinner plate.

    I racked my brain for an unbelievable answer. I knew better than to just ask who it was. Grandma always wanted you to guess.

    “Um,” I said, frowning. “Francine?”

    Grandma rolled her eyes. “Francine? Oh, please, you can do better than that, Alexa. Your mother.”

   “Mom?” I reached into the pocket of my shorts and pulled out my phone. No missed calls, just like I thought. “She didn’t call me.”

   My grandmother shrugged. “Who knows with your mother? Anyway, she probably called me because she didn’t want to give you the news herself.”

    “What?” I said, my heart starting to race. “Is it Dad?”

   “Gertrude,” Poppy said, putting his fork down long enough to take a breath. “Don’t scare the girl. Out with it.”

   “She…well, she got you a job for the summer,” Grandma said, suddenly developing a huge interest in rearranging the dishes on the table.

    I rested my fork against my plate and stared at my grandmother. “She what?”

    “You heard your grandmother.”

    I glared at Poppy. “A job? Why? Where?”

    “Like I said before, who knows with your mother. It’s at the Treasure Chest,” she said.

    “The Treasure Chest?” I took a deep breath. “What the heck is going on? Where did this come from?”

   “Your mother only said that she and your father thought you should be earning some money this summer for school,” Grandma said. “Quite frankly, I don’t disagree. You’ll be here for three months. Can’t run around with those kids every day. You need something to do.”

    “But…the Treasure Chest?”

    “What’s wrong with that? It’s busy almost every night. People love the amusement park!”

  “Exactly,” I said, thinking of flashing lights, whirring rides, and ringing bells at the carnival games. “It’s a migraine waiting to happen.”

    “Oh, Alexa,” Grandma said, looking at me as if I was being stupid. “You love going to the Treasure Chest.”

   “Yeah, once a week it’s okay! But a whole shift? A few days a week? Grandma, that’s a living nightmare.”

   “Well,” she said, leveling me with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry to tell you, darling, but your nightmare begins tomorrow night.”

   I woke up the next morning to a seagull screeching overhead. A light pink ray of sunlight cast a warm glow over my body.

As I sat up, disoriented, I realized that I’d fallen asleep on the rooftop balcony last night, the latest James Patterson thriller spread open on my stomach.    

   I sat up on the couch and looked out over the ocean as the sun rose above it. It had to be early, but I didn’t have a clock. There wasn’t a soul on the beach yet, but the sand was usually full of joggers by seven in the morning.

   A door creaked open downstairs and I figured Grandma, who usually fell asleep somewhere around 7:30 each evening, had realized I wasn’t in my bed and decided to come look for me.

With a yawn and a stretch, I stood up and walked over to the rooftop railing to call down to Grandma that I was up here and would be right down for coffee and maybe some chocolate chip banana pancakes.

   I peered over the railing but didn’t see her. I was about to turn around and grab my book to head downstairs when I caught sight of the source of the noise.

   Anthony stood on the balcony next door, glass of orange juice in one hand, cell phone pressed to his ear. I wondered who he could be talking to so early, but shrugged. It was none of my business, even though I sort of wanted it to be.

   I wandered down the steps and, okay, I won’t lie to you—I was hoping Anthony would notice me and ask me to hang out that day.

As soon as I reached the bottom of the staircase, he turned, saw me and smiled. He said a few more words into his phone that I couldn’t hear before he slid it into his pocket and walked over to the railing that divided our balconies.

    “Morning, you,” he said.  “How’s the leg?”

    “Been better,” I replied. It absolutely killed. “But no big deal. You’re up early.”

    He shrugged. “I’m not much for sleeping in. Hate wasting the day. Speaking of, what are your plans?”

    “Don’t know, I just got up. Haven’t had a chance to look at my phone yet.”

   He looked at the rooftop balcony. “You sleep up there?” I nodded. “I bet that was amazing. I’d love to do that sometime, but we don’t have anything to sleep on.”

    I hesitated for a second, debating whether or not to tell him he could use our couch any time he wanted.

   “We should have a sleepover there sometime,” he went on, and I flushed at the idea, but had to smile. “We could do it big! Get sleeping bags and stuff. We could even roast marshmallows on the grill.”

    My eyes grew wide. “Marshmallows? Say no more. I’m in.”

    He laughed and I breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to have a slumber party with me. I pushed the possibility of Grandma vetoing the whole plan out of my mind. This was too perfect to think of it not happening.

And you want to know the very best part about it?

    It had been his idea.

    Perfect.

    “This’ll be fun,” he said. “We should do it tonight.”

   I nodded, ready to suggest a shopping trip to the local grocery store for supplies, when I remembered what I had to do tonight.

    “Ugh,” I said with a groan. “I want to, but tonight’s out. I have to work.”

    Anthony grinned. “You work down here?”

    I didn’t want to tell him, but he’d just find out anyway if my plan for us this summer worked out like I knew it would. “At the Treasure Chest.”

   “The amusement park?” he said. “You didn’t tell me that when we talked about it yesterday!”

  “I didn’t know then. My mom called yesterday and told me she got me a job there. Don’t ask,” I said, catching sight of his bewildered expression. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense but that’s my family.” He smiled. “Point is, I start tonight.”

   He nodded. “Okay, no big deal. We’ll just have to push the sleepover to a night you aren’t working. It’ll give us some time to get what we need. Anyway, I was going to head out for a jog so I’ll catch you later. Have a good one.”

    He disappeared inside his house, leaving me standing on the balcony alone, unable to control my smile.

    After a little unpredictable skid with Jeff the Lifeguard, my summer had found its way back onto the fast track to perfect.

***

   I didn’t see Anthony for the rest of the day and apart from one text from Joey telling me about a party later that night, I didn’t hear from my Ship’s Wreck friends all afternoon.

   It was a little unsettling not to hear from them more, especially Pia, but I didn’t have a whole lot of time to dwell on it. Five o’clock was here and that meant I needed to be on my way to the Treasure Chest.  

   I biked along the cleverly named Central Avenue that divided the island between bayside and oceanside. If you were into sailing, bayside was the way to go, but I wouldn’t trade life on my side of Central Avenue for all the boats in the world.

   The ferris wheel loomed in the distance. Apart from the lighthouse at the north end of the island, it was the tallest thing around, impossible to miss, and one of my favorite landmarks.

I steered my bike alongside the entrance to the Treasure Chest, chained it to the guardrail, and sighed. Here goes nothing.

   “You must be Alexa Jurgens. Ralph Picadilly, but you can call me Ralphie.”

   I’d barely taken two steps into the park when a short, plump man with thick-rimmed glasses and a bald patch directly on the top of his head emerged from the ticket booth, clipboard in one hand, Styrofoam cup of coffee in the other.

   “I’d shake your hand,” he went on. “but I’m a little full here. Come on, we’ve got your uniform ready for you. You’ll be on the kiddie coaster for your first couple of shifts. Don’t feel so bad, nobody wants the kiddie coasters, but, hey, dues are dues, and you’ve got to pay yours!” He chuckled and I continued to stare.

    “What, cat got your tongue? Speak!”

    “Um,” I said, blinking my eyes a few time. “Yeah, I’m Alexa. Lexie.”

  “Lexie!” Ralphie’s eyes lit up. Now that’s a name with spunk, pizzazz! Gee, I wish we’d known that when we had your name badge printed up. Well, Alexa from Spring Dells will just have to do! Come along, we open in thirty minutes! Don’t have all day to get you situated.”

    I was pretty sure it wouldn’t take Ralphie very long to think he’d properly prepared me for my first shift.

   “This here is the staff building,” he said, leading me into a red building behind the Dragon Coaster that I’d never paid attention to before. “You can leave your bag here during your shift. Sneakers only, hair pulled back, especially if you’re on rides for the evening. Gianna should already be at her station, I’ll take you there now.”

   I followed Ralphie back outside and he walked near all of my favorite rides—the Scrambler and the big pirate ship that swung back and forth until one side was practically upside down above the other—and back toward the tamer rides meant for younger kids.

   “This’ll be where you’ll work for awhile,” Ralphie said. “Gianna will show you everything you need to know. Gi! Hey!”

    A tall, tanned girl with long jet black hair spun around and grinned. I could hear her gum smacking from a few feet away.

    “Hey, Lil’ Ralphie!” she called out. “What’s going on?”

   “This here is Alexa Jurgens. She’s new and we’ll be putting her on the Gold Miner tonight. Show her what to do. You make me proud now, Gigi.”

    “You bet your butt I will. She’s in good hands,” she replied, then looked at me. “Alexa, eh? Let’s get to it.”

    Ralphie, apparently pleased with Gianna’s commanding attitude, nodded and walked away.

    “Lexie’s good. I, uh, I’ve never…worked a ride before,” I said. “Don’t I need some kind of training for this?”

   Gianna looked at me with one long, thin eyebrow raised. “Girl, I’m ‘bout to give you all the trainin’ you’ll ever need. What do you think I’m here for?”

    “To work your ride?”

    “Where you from with that accent, anyway? I’ve never heard that kind of talk ‘round here.”

   “Alabama,” I replied, growing conscious of my accent. Nobody commented on it much in Ship’s Wreck because I usually hung around people who already knew me.

   Gianna’s eyes widened. “Alabama!” Smack of the gum. “Wow! And here I’ve never been outside Jersey. This island’s exotic to me!”

    I smiled. “Alabama’s not exotic. It pretty much looks like most of New Jersey.”

    “Still.” She shook her head. “Alabama. That’s something. What are you doin’ all the way up here?”

    I launched into an explanation of why I spent my summers in Ship’s Wreck.

   Gianna nodded when I finished. “I gotcha,” she said. “Parents. Can’t live with ‘em, but at least until you’re eighteen, you pretty much can’t live without ‘em either.”

   I laughed as Gianna began to show me how to operate the Gold Miner, a small, circular track that had various mining cars serving as carts for the ride. It maxed out at about five miles per hour and the key was to make sure each kid was buckled in, Gianna said. Parents apparently didn’t like it so much when you forgot to safety belt their children. Neither did Ralphie.

  Four hours flew by and before I knew it, it was time to shut down the Gold Miner for the night and I was free, not having to work another shift for two days. I hadn’t been able to check my phone while working, but when I glanced down at the screen around 10 p.m. and didn’t have a single missed text or call from Pia and Joey, I started to wonder what was going on with them.

   “You let me know if you wanna hang out sometime this week,” Gianna said as we walked out the front gates and I unchained my bike. She shook her head. “I want to know more ‘bout this Alabama place.”

   I biked home to a different atmosphere on Fresh Water Island, a side I usually didn’t get to see. Ten p.m. on a Tuesday evening in June didn’t produce much traffic and apart from the occasional passing car, the island was quiet, cool, peaceful. I could hear the faint rushing of the tide down each block I passed.

   My grandparents’ house looked dark as I turned down Gull Boulevard and coasted the half mile or so to the end of the street. It looked like there was a small glow coming from the rooftop balcony at Anthony’s but I wasn’t sure.