Splat! (4 page)

“Come on,” Keegan said. “You can't believe that they'd let us do that.”

“What's the difference between throwing tomatoes at a target and throwing them at people?” I asked.

“Well, one is definitely more fun. But I'm willing to bet that our fathers won't see it that way.”

“I don't see how they
can
object,” I said. “Didn't they say we're in charge? That we get to make the decisions? That we're responsible?”

“I heard all of those things,” he agreed. “But that doesn't mean they won't stop us.”

“I know one way to
guarantee
that they won't say no.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. We don't ask. We just do.”

“I like the way you think,” Keegan said.

“You mean you like the way I scheme.”

“That's what I meant.”

“We have two weeks before the festival, two weeks to put everything together,” I said.

“And two weeks for the secret to get out.”

“Only way to keep it secret is to keep it between us. We can't even tell David or Sam.”

“They keep their mouths shut.”

“We'll tell them the day of the festival. The less people who know, the better. We tell nobody...not even old girlfriends.”

“Come on, give me some credit. I'm not completely stupid...not completely.”

“When you're around her, I'm not so sure. Nobody. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He gave me his famous smile. “This is going to be so cool.”

When the singer hit the last note of her song her voice broke. Across town dogs were hiding under beds, paws pressed to ears. The audience clapped and cheered as the music ended. I didn't think they were impressed with her voice, just glad it was over. She bowed and waved as she bounced off the stage.

“Let's give it up for little Melissa Ellis!” the announcer yelled into the microphone, and people cheered some more.

I clapped as well—it would have been mean not to cheer for a six-year-old brave enough to get up on a stage and sing in front of hundreds of people. Of course it would have been better if she was the only six-year-old who was trying. It was like they'd cleared out a whole elementary school and brought them all here to perform.

“Is this getting worse every year or is it just me?” Keegan asked.

“Some of the singers are still really good, it's just that it seems like there's more that are worse.”

“Don't they hold auditions, or do they just let anybody in?”

“Pretty well anybody,” I said.

“Next up,” the announcer said, “is a regular here at the Leamington Idol contest, Bert Conroy and his accordion!”

“I'm outta here,” Keegan said as he got to his feet.

I followed as the audience cheered and Bert started playing. Bert was a teacher at our school and, thank goodness, he was a better teacher than accordion player.

We shuffled through the crowd, out of the tent and into the display area. There was booth after booth selling crafts. Just how many dream catchers, necklaces and black velvet pictures of Elvis did anybody want or need?

“I can't believe how crowded this place is,” Keegan said.

“Pretty sad. Not much here that I want.”

“Well, I can see one thing I definitely want.”

“Are you thinking about the ribs?” I asked, pointing to where they were holding a rib-off contest. “Actually, her ribs aren't even close to her best feature.”

Up ahead I saw Kelsey walking along eating an ice cream. What I didn't see was her boyfriend, Owen, but I knew he wouldn't be far away.

“I'm going to talk to her,” Keegan said.

I grabbed him by the arm. “How about if we just go for ribs instead? My treat.”

“Talk first. Eat later.”

I let go of his arm. There was no point
in fighting this unless I was going to drag him away.

“Come on, Keegan, what's the point? She doesn't want to talk to you.”

“I'll talk. She can listen.”

“Owen isn't going to like you doing this.”

“I don't care what he likes.”

The smart thing would be to walk in the other direction. I wasn't that smart.

She moved toward us along the path. As she walked she talked to different people—like everybody else, she knew more than half the people in the park. I watched as she walked, laughing, smiling—Kelsey did have an incredible smile. Of course that smile would shut down pretty quick once she saw Keegan on the path and—she saw him, saw us. For a split second she hesitated and then kept moving.

“Hello, Alex,” she said as she came close.

“Hey, Kelsey.”

“No hello for me?” Keegan asked.

“I have no nothing for you,” she said coldly as she walked past.

Keegan nudged me in the side. “Say something,” he hissed.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

She turned around. “Leamington Idol.”

“We were just heading that way,” I said. “Mind if we join you?”

“I don't mind if
you
join me,” she said and kept walking.

“Come on,” Keegan said to me. “That was sort of an invitation.”

We trotted down the path and caught up to her.

“Where's the boyfriend?” Keegan asked.

She ignored him.

“Where is Owen today?” I asked.

“He's meeting me at the talent tent later on.”

“Great, so we have a little time to talk before he comes,” Keegan said.

“I have no time for you.”

“You can't stay mad at me forever,” Keegan said.

“Forever is a long time. I was thinking no more than fifty years.” She started walking away again.

“That's encouraging,” Keegan whispered to me.

“How is that encouraging?”

“Last week she told me it would a hundred years before she'd talk to be again. At this rate she'll be talking to me in no time!” Keegan said. “come on!”

He went after her, and I hurried to catch up to him.

“Say something else to her,” Keegan hissed.

Something else...what did he want me to say?

“Kelsey!” I called out, and she turned around yet again.

“Are you coming to the tomato toss tomorrow?” I asked.

“I'm not sure. Depends how things go in the Miss Tomato Festival.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“She won't need luck to win,” Keegan said. Her face softened. She looked like she
was almost going to smile, but she stopped herself.

“We're running the tomato toss this year,” I said.

“You are?” She sounded genuinely surprised—not that I blamed her.

“Yeah, we wanted to be more responsible,” I said.

“I can see you doing that,” she said. “But other people feel that they're not responsible for anything they do,” she said, shooting darts at Keegan with her eyes.

“People change,” Keegan said.

“People, yes. You, no.”

Kelsey walked into the tent. Owen stood up and waved, and she went over to his table. She greeted him with a kiss, and I could almost feel Keegan shudder.

“I just can't believe she's with him,” he said. “Beauty and the tuba player.”

“And there's nothing you can do about it.”

“I should just walk over there and pop him one in the face!” Keegan said.

“You can't just walk up to somebody in
the middle of the Leamington Idol contest and hit him. Do you know how much trouble you'd be in?”

“Okay, you're probably right. Taking a shot at him there would be stupid.”

“Taking a shot at him anywhere would be stupid, but right there, right now, would be
incredibly
stupid, even by your standards.”

For a split second he looked like he was going to argue, but he didn't.

“Okay, that would be stupid, but I'd love to have a chance to take him on, one-on-one, away from the crowd and witnesses.”

Then, just like he was listening to what had just been said, Owen stood up and walked out of the tent.

“I wonder where he's going?” I asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

Keegan started off at a trot, and I ran to catch up.

“What are you doing? You can't really be thinking about fighting him, can you?”

“Just come on.”

Again I followed. We circled the big tent and started down the path. It was darker
away from thelights and, except for a man walking along the path toward the tent, completely deserted.

“Why would he be going down here?” I asked.

“Look, port-a-potties,” Keegan said.

There were five blue port-a-potties peeking through the trees.

“That explains why he's down here.”

“This has potential,” Keegan said.

“Him going to the washroom has potential?”

“Maybe. Do you have a pen?”

I did have a pen. I'd been using it to make last-minute notes about the tomato toss. I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him.

“What are you going to do, write him a nasty note?” I asked.

“Haven't you heard that the pen is mightier than the sword?”

“I'd feel better if you had a sword.”

“Come on.”

Keegan ran along the path, and I trailed after him. I couldn't see how this could
end well, but I was way too curious to be reasonable. what was he up to?

Keegan stopped at the first port-a-potty and pulled open the door. It was empty. He did the same with the second—also empty.

He grabbed the third door.

“It's occupied!” called out a voice— Owen's booming voice!

Keegan looked at me and smiled. He then took the pen and slipped it into the little bracket on the door—he was using the pen to lock Owen inside the toilet! Owen was going to be stuck in a toilet...at least until he pressed hard enough to break the pen.

“Come on,” I whispered. “We have to leave.”

“We have one more thing to do first,” Keegan whispered back.

He put his hands against the front of the port-a-potty. What was he going to? Then it came to me.

The five toilets were perched at the top of a little hill leading down to the beach. He was trying to push it over and down
the hill! unbelievable, crazy, dangerous... brilliant!

I put my hands against it as well.

“Let's do it,” Keegan mouthed.

Together we pushed, and the toilet lifted slightly off the ground.

“Hey!” Owen yelled from inside.

I jumped away in shock, and the whole thing thumped back onto the ground. We had to get out of here before he broke the pen and found out it was us! I started to run, and Keegan grabbed my arm and shook his head violently. He wasn't going to leave. This was going to end up in a fight!

He pushed against the port-a-potty throwing his whole body against it. It started to rise off the ground again, and Owen started screaming. It was balanced on edge. I could see the strain in Keegan's face. He was pushing for all he was worth, but he couldn't quite make it tip, and he couldn't hold it for much longer. There was only one thing to do.

I threw my body against it as well, and it kept rising and rising! I could hear the
sewage sloshing around inside. The stinking smell rose up, and Owen screamed louder and louder. And the toilet toppled over backwards!

It fell with a thud and started to slide down the hill, gaining speed, sewage surging out, until it shuddered to a stop at the bottom!

“Now we run!” Keegan said.

“Stop running!” I said to Keegan as I grabbed his arm to slow him down.

“He'll kill us if he catches us.”

“That's why We have to slow down. we don't want to run into the tent looking guilty. we have to look casual.”

“Good point,” he said.

We walked—quickly—and the tent came into view. We'd been able to hear the singer all the way down at the port-a-potties. She was pretty good, which was lucky for us,
because people were watching her. Nobody saw us enter the tent. We eased into the back of the crowd just as her song ended and we joined the crowd in cheering.

“Way to go!” I screamed. “Wasn't she something!” I said to the two women standing beside us. “She was the best!”

“That's our niece,” one of the women said proudly.

“You tell her that I think she should win the contest. She is amazing, like her next step should be
American Idol
!”

Both women flashed big smiles. “Thank you so much, that's so kind of you,” the other woman said.

Keegan turned so he faced away from them and gave me a “what are you doing?” look.

“Alibi,” I mouthed.

He nodded, and I could see the flash of understanding cross his face. He turned back to the women.

“I'm Keegan and this is Alex. You be sure to tell your niece that we enjoyed every single note. When she started so strong I
thought there was no way she could top that. But she just got better and better. What a performance!”

“Well, Keegan and Alex, I'll be sure to pass your compliments on to Mandy and—” She stopped mid-sentence, and her eyes got big. “Oh my goodness.”

I turned around. I saw Owen charging toward the tent. He was covered, head to toe, with sewage—his clothes, his hair, his face, everything. But through it all I could see the anger on his face. He looked like a big, stinking bull!

Part of me wanted to laugh, but the other part wanted to run away. He looked so incredibly angry and he had to know it was us.

He locked his eyes on us and stomped forward, the look of anger giving way to complete rage.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Keegan asked him.

“You know what happened!” he screamed. Dozens of people all around turned to face him and us.

“All I know is you have to work on your toileting habits,” Keegan said. “I thought by your senior year you'd be potty trained.”