Stargazey Point (21 page)

“It’s safe enough. Most of these children are exposed to things kids in the suburbs have never heard of. It’s the way of life here. Nothing too dangerous, but no pampering. You have to be tough to get ahead in this world. Especially these kids.

“Besides, Sarah wouldn’t let them do anything that they’re not capable of doing or anything that might hurt them. For all her Yankee ways, she’s still one of them.”

“Why would Sarah think we need help? Not that I mind it, but . . .”

“I’ve been around for a long time, seen lots of places, and the one thing I learned was that it sometimes takes a village, not largesse handed down from the haves or the has-beens—something that my sister would do well to learn. Not that I expect that to happen in this lifetime.

“But Sarah understands and I suspect you do, too. Let them have their fun.” She lifted the latch and went through the gate; Abbie headed down to the gazebo.

Abbie stopped by Jerome. “Was this your idea?”

He shook his head. “No’m, but it’s a good one. Get the job done faster, and since it’s all white, they cain’t make a mess. You don’t want ’em here?” Alarm flashed through his eyes.

“It’s fine, but is it safe?”

“Yes’m. Safe enough. Me and Clarence’ll do the high stuff and the paint’s safe enough outside. They’ll wash off good afterward.”

Abbie laughed. “How did you get them to give up their free morning to work?”

Jerome shrugged one shoulder. “They all come to the center on Saturdays if they don’t have chores or after they’ve finished. And today they got the choice of getting tutored or painting the gazebo out in the sun. Which one would you choose?”

“I’m not sure it’s legal to use children.”

“Sure it is. It’s a part of our oral history project.”

“I thought that project was dead.”

“Oh, well, it’s the new paintin’-the-historic-Crispin-gazebo project. See over yonder? Dani and Joe are documenting it.”

Dani and Joe, the twins from the other day. They were attempting to hold up a heavy old video camera. The camera tipped wildly as they tried to aim it at the painters.

Exasperated, Dani tried to yank it from her brother’s hands. A tug-of-war ensued while the video continued to run. They’d end up with nothing but erratic shots of ground and body parts.

Sarah appeared at Abbie’s side. “Looks like they could use some help.”

“Of course. I should have known. This was your idea,” Abbie said.

“Thought it would give them something useful to do while still being out in the fresh air,” Sarah said, not taking her eyes from the group. “Daniella, you two cooperate or you’ll never get your story.”

Dani grabbed the camera from her brother, lifted it against her chest, and held it with both hands while she arched to hold the extra weight.

“Dani, I mean it.”

The girl huffed out a sigh and handed the camera to Joe. He snatched it out of her hands and nearly fell over backward.

“It’s too heavy for them,” Abbie said.

“It’s the lightest one we’ve got.”

“Don’t you at least have a tripod?”

“ ’Fraid not,” Sarah drawled. “ ’Spect they could use some help.”

Abbie should have seen it coming; both times she’d heard Sarah lapse into a drawl was right before she asked for something.

“Go ahead,” Abbie said, refusing to take the bait.

“I have to oversee.” Sarah shot her a complacent smile. “Seems like it’s the least you could do, seeing how we’re painting your gazebo.”

Joe was jumping around Dani waving his arms and whining for her to give him a turn. At this rate they’d break the camera; it was so old it was amazing it still worked at all.

“Well? You gonna just let them struggle like that?”

Abbie looked back at the twins.
Okay, big talker,
Abbie told herself.
You wanted to be free. You wanted your life back. Here’s your chance.

With a theatrical sigh, she marched off toward the twins. They immediately stopped fighting. Abbie reached for the camera. Dani reluctantly gave it up and stepped back, cowering.

Abbie squatted down to make herself the same height, and she motioned the two over. When they were in front of her, she said, “This is really heavy, isn’t it?”

Slow nods.

“Want me to show you a trick to keep the camera steady?”

Joe nodded uncertainly, but Dani looked up with a smile so broad that it tightened Abbie’s throat.

She faced the gazebo and sat down with her knees up in front of her and patted a place on the ground next to her. “Sit down beside me.”

There was a moment’s tussle and they plopped on the grass, one on each side.

“To get a good sequence—a good picture—you have to find a way to keep the camera steady. So if you don’t have a tripod or a bench or something, you can use your knees.” Abbie rested the camera on her knees, noticed that her hands were shaking.

“Now the camera will stop jumping around as much. Do you want to try?”

Dani’s eyes widened. A nod.

Abbie transferred the camera to Dani’s knees, positioned her hands to give maximum mobility without blocking the lens with her fingers. Joe crawled over Abbie’s lap to get a closer look.

“Now look through the eyepiece and pick a subject.”

Dani’s eyes cut toward Abbie.

“Pick the people you want to take a picture of.”

“Oh.” Dani bent over the camera biting her lip in concentration.

“Now gently press the record button. Easy now.”

They reviewed the shot. Dani smiled, then Joe took a turn.

“It works,” he said and gave Abbie a duplicate smile.

“Thanks,” Sarah said, and there was no trace of the drawl now.

“You’re welcome.” Abbie cut her attention back to the twins. They were intent and serious, both leaning over the camera and slowly panning across the gazebo.

“Maybe you’d be willing to help with the postproduction.”

Abbie stood. “I’m not really an editor.” The shakes had moved from her fingers to her legs, which was stupid. It was just some kids taking pictures. Nothing bad would happen if she helped them.

She squatted down. “You want to try some close-ups?”

Two enthusiastic nods.

“Great.” She took the camera, and Dani and Joe scrambled to their feet.

When she looked up, Sarah was gone.

Chapter 14

A
round noon Marnie came down the walk, pulling an old red wagon behind her.

“Lunch,” she announced. She found a flat place on the lawn and began opening containers and laying them out on the grass. “Jerome, clean up these children and let ’em take a break.”

Everyone moved at once.

“Mind your manners,” Jerome ordered in a calm round tenor. The kids stopped where they were.

“Now you all line up and put down your paintbrushes on that piece of cardboard there. Then you go over to the hose and Grace will make sure you get washed up good. Then you go over and wait your turn for Miss Marnie to hand you somethin’ to eat.”

There was a minor tussle before they all lined up to deposit their brushes and get their hands washed. Within minutes they were all sitting in the grass eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking red Kool-Aid.

“Best Millie could do on short notice,” Marnie said, handing Abbie a sandwich.

“Well, tell her thank you; they’re gobbling it up without a complaint.”

“I expect they’re glad to get it.”

“Sarah said most of them are in foster care. That’s a lot of kids for such a small town.”

“Foster care, ha. Some of them, like Dani and Joe, live with relatives or with a working parent who leaves them with friends. What constitutes family isn’t always cut and dried in these parts. Just suffice it to say, none of them is going to turn down a free meal.”

Abbie watched the children dig into their sandwiches, some eating from one corner to the other. Some eating a crescent out from top to bottom until the edges flopped over. Joe started in the middle making a big hole that he looked through, then he laughed so hard he fell over onto the grass.

Abbie smiled, caught herself. She was not ready to get involved with any children. Even though she had to admit she was intrigued by what Marnie had said about how they lived. Had they fallen through the cracks of governmental support systems? Or had they avoided them on purpose.

Whichever it was, at least they had a nurturing place to go after school and on weekends. Though she did wonder who would take over when Sarah returned to her work in New York. It would be hard to find someone to fill her shoes.

After lunch, the kids filed by Marnie and dropped their trash into the brown grocery bag she held out. They were less than enthusiastic about returning to painting, and Abbie saw more than one yawn.

Jerome chose one of the older girls to take the younger ones back to the community center. That left two girls and two boys to finish the job.

Joe and Dani lay in the grass, the heavy camera held between them, fast asleep. But when Jerome woke them, they clung to the camera and groggily refused to leave.

In the quieter atmosphere, the gazebo got its final coat of whitewash while Abbie sat on the grass watching. Joe and Dani sat beside her, the camera going on and off as they filmed each other’s feet, a line of ants, and what they swore was an alligator, but which on closer inspection turned out to be a stick that had washed up from the tide.

One of the older girls began to sing in a contralto, a beautiful melody that Abbie assumed was an old folk tune until she began to pick out the words “ . . . a long and winding road . . .”

Abbie listened for a while then turned Joe and Dani over to Jerome and made her way back to the house. No one was in the kitchen, but the Kool-Aid containers sat unwashed in the sink.

She pushed up her sleeves and washed out the two containers, thinking she should make a contribution to the community center in exchange for their help, their very messy help, today. The gazebo was mostly finished though there seemed to be as much paint on the grass as on the structure.

She dried the Kool-Aid containers and briefly considered going into town for a latte, but she settled for a cup of instant coffee.

Marnie came in while Abbie sat at the table drinking her less-than-satisfying brew.

“Instant?” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“I only wanted a cup so it didn’t seem like it was worth getting out the percolator.”

“We actually had a Mr. Coffee, but it gave up the ghost months ago. Can never remember to pick up a new one when I go out.” She poured a cup of water from the kettle and added some instant coffee.

Abbie made a mental note to buy a coffeepot when she went into town next.

There was a quiet knock at the back door.

“I’ll get it,” Marnie said. She returned a second later.

“Somebody for you,” she said seriously.

Abbie went to the door, saw no one, and opened the door.

Dani and Joe stood at the bottom of the steps, both holding the video camera.

“Miss Sarah said for you to keep this for us,” Dani said. They thrust the camera toward Abbie. She grabbed for it as it wobbled in their small hands.

“Thank you. Did she say what I was supposed to do with it?”

They shook their heads, so synchronized to be almost funny. “Jus’ we s’pposed to give it to you,” Joe mumbled.

“I’ll take care of it for you and bring it by the center tomorrow, okay with you?”

The heads bobbed up and down simultaneously. Then they broke and ran around the house and out of sight.

Abbie looked around—no Sarah, no Jerome, just a white gazebo sitting in the sun.

She would take the camera back, but if Sarah thought she was going to help with the filming, she could think again.

A
bbie fell into bed exhausted that night, which was odd, since she had done very little work during the day, just hung out with the kids. She slept soundly until morning when the slamming of a car door woke her up and she heard Millie greeting the Oakleys, who took her to church every Sunday.

She showered and dressed and went downstairs, intending to return the camera and walk home again while everyone was at breakfast or in church.

The town was deserted, and it occurred to her that the community center would probably be locked.

She crossed the tarmac and tried the door. It opened. She stuck her head through the opening. “Sarah? Are you here?”

No one answered, and no lights shone from the back. Abbie stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

She carried the camera back to the video room she’d seen the other day. The room was dark since the only window opened onto the narrow walkway that ran between the center and the carousel.

She put the camera on the work shelf and looked for a piece of paper to leave a note. Smiled when she saw an old cassette recorder that reminded her of one her mother had saved from college. Out of curiosity she pushed the play button.

“I come here from across the water up from Beaufort. My fambly raised hogs. But my mama brung us boys over this way where her boyfriend ran the motel out on Highway 17. It ain’t there no more.” She pushed stop. No wonder Sarah was having trouble focusing the children.