Summer at Forsaken Lake (16 page)

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know—kind of uptight. Like really intense.”

Nicholas laughed. “Oh, she’s plenty intense. Trust me.”

“
Who’s
so intense, Nicholas?” asked his mother, joining them on the porch.

“That would be you, Mom,” he said. “It’s okay—I’m used to it.”

“So, do you live close by, Charlie?” asked Jo. “How did you find Nicholas and the girls?”

“Actually, Nicholas found me,” said Charlie. “I live about a half mile down Lake Road, but we met in Deming. He stopped to watch my baseball team practice. And then, the next day, I was bringing Nick some lasagna that my mom made, and there he was again.”

“Well, I’m glad Nicholas has someone his own age to … do things with. Nick tells me that you have become quite the sailors, that he lets you take his boat out without him on board. I’m … not sure how I feel about that, but I’m going to trust Nick. And you. All I ask is that you be
careful
. Promise?”

“Promise,” said Nicholas.

“And really keep an eye on the twins, although they
seem to be doing fine now. After Hetty’s little meltdown on the phone, I was a little worried. Now I get the feeling that if I tried to take them back to New York with me, they’d mutiny. I imagine that has something to do with you, Charlie. I’m sure they like having a ‘big sister.’ ”

“They’re great,” said Charlie. “It’s been fun for me, too. And I guess Nicholas isn’t too bad, either.”

* * *

Kevin Willard’s head was buried far beneath the hood of a maroon 1967 Ford Galaxie 500 when Charlie and Nicholas turned their bikes into his yard the next day. He looked up when he heard their tires hit the gravel and adjusted the trucker-style cap (
GIT ’ER DONE!
it implored) that covered his greasy shoulder-length hair. He set a wrench on the car’s fender and nodded approvingly at Nicholas’s classic ride.

“Cool bike, kid.”

“Thanks.”

“Y’wanna sell it?”

“I, uh, no … It’s not really mine. I’m just borrowing it.”

Kevin took his first good look at Nicholas. “Do I know you? Y’look familiar.”

“You knew my dad. A long time ago.”

Kevin squinted at him, trying to make the connection.

“Will Mettleson,” Charlie said.

“Yep, I see it now,” Kevin said. “Y’do look a lot like
yer old man, now that I think about it. What’s he doin’ these days?”

“He’s a doctor,” said Nicholas. “Right now he’s in Africa with Doctors Without Borders—you know, helping people.”

“Huh. Y’don’t say. Guess he done all right for himself.” He turned his gaze to Charlie. “You one o’ Will’s kids, too?”

Charlie grinned. “No, but you know my mom and dad. You were in their wedding.”

“No way. You’re Jimmy and Franny’s kid? Look at ya, all grown up. Last time I seen you, you wuz still a baby. How’re yer folks? I heard they split up a while back. Hear from yer dad much?”

“Not too much, no. He’s still trying to get rich raising ostriches.”

Kevin chuckled. “That sounds like Jimmy. He’s a good egg, though, yer dad. We had some good times together.”

“Um, yeah, that’s why we came out here,” Charlie said. “We were kind of wondering about something from back when you were kids. Remember when you guys were making that movie?”

“
The Seaweed …
somethin’ or other?”

“Strangler,”
Nicholas said.
“The Seaweed Strangler.”

“We’re really just interested in one day—the last day,” Charlie said. “When the boat crashed and my mom got hit in the head with the mast.”

Kevin winced, remembering the moment. “Not likely
to forget that day as long as I live. Felt like I was watchin’ it in slow motion. Yer mom dropped like a stone.”

“But
after
, when everybody was around her, and the sheriff and the ambulance came—do you remember what happened to the movie camera? It was on a tripod, and it went down with Mom.”

Kevin shook his head and offered an apathetic shrug. “No idea. Can’t even picture it in my head. Just yer mom, and that pretty little boat poundin’ on the rocks. So, what’s yer mom up to these days? She seein’ anybody?”

“Wh-what? Mom?” Charlie tried hard not to gag at the thought of her mom dating a creep like him. “Um, yeah. She has a boyfriend,” she lied.

Nicholas got him back on track. “And you never heard anything about it—the movie camera—later on, like from Petey Truman, or the sheriff, or anybody?”

Another shake and shrug. “Why’re you kids lookin’ for that old camera, anyway? Ain’t worth nuthin’ now. Probably can’t even buy film for it no more.”

It was Charlie’s turn to shrug. “It’s kind of like a piece of family history.”

“Yeah? Well, good luck with that, kid.” Kevin grunted and picked up his wrench. “Oh, and be sure to tell yer mom I said hi.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” said Charlie as she and Nicholas spun their bikes around and rode away.

* * *

Petey Truman, whose house was spotless inside and out, was not much help, either.

“Come in, come in! Get out of the sun for a minute. I sure hope you kids have UV protection on. The sun is a killer, you know. Do you mind taking your shoes off outside? Dust sets off my allergies something fierce. Now, let’s see. You were asking about Will’s movie camera.” He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. “Huh. I just assumed the sheriff confiscated it for evidence. But that’s just a guess. I have to be honest, I don’t remember paying any attention to the camera once that mast fell. Have you asked the sheriff? He’s not sheriff anymore, of course, but he lives just down the road. It’s worth a shot—he might remember what happened to it. And what about Teddy Bradford? There’s another one you could ask.”

Charlie and Nicholas turned to look at one another; Franny had mentioned that it was Teddy’s boat that was wrecked, but his name didn’t come up when she was standing in the marina reliving the experience of the big event.

“You mean my dad’s cousin Teddy—the guy who owned the boat? He was there that day?” Charlie asked.

“Sure—at least at the end. I’m not sure about him being there earlier, but I definitely remember seeing him after the ambulance pulled away. Wasn’t saying much. A bit odd, now that I think of it. He’d just watched his boat get wrecked, the mast toppling over and almost killing a kid, but instead of yelling and screaming, or trying to do
something about the boat, he was just kind of wandering around in a daze.”

“Hmmm,” said Nicholas and Charlie, agreeing that it did seem like strange behavior.

“But I’d start with the sheriff if I were you,” said Petey, and he gave them Ned Randleman’s address. They thanked him for his help and rode down the bumpy gravel road, stopping in front of a run-down mobile home where a life-sized plastic Santa stood guard in the yard.

“I guess this is it,” said Charlie. “Kinda creepy. I’m glad I’m not alone.”

They parked their bikes and knocked firmly on the door.

“Who is it?” a man’s voice shouted from somewhere behind the screen door.

Nicholas put his face close to the screen and tried to peer inside. “Nicholas Mettleson and Charlie Brennan.”

“Who?”

“We just want to ask you a question,” Charlie said. Under her breath, she added, “So get off your butt and answer the door.”

“Are you sellin’ something?” the voice demanded.

Charlie sighed loudly. “No. Sir. We want to talk to you about something that happened a long time ago, back when you were sheriff.”

Suddenly, they were staring up at a giant in a stained tank top and boxer shorts that were decorated with big red
hearts—exactly like the ones cartoon characters wear. No one had bothered to tell them that Ned Randleman was six feet ten inches tall.

“What
about
when I was sheriff?” he growled through the screen.

Charlie and Nicholas each said a little prayer that he wouldn’t invite them in or join them outside. It was just a screen door, but they felt better with
something
between them and Underwear Guy.

They explained the purpose of their visit while he listened, occasionally slurping noisily from a can of beer and scratching his belly where it hung out below a shirt that was clearly meant for someone several inches shorter and many, many pounds lighter.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody ever told me about a camera. Let me get this straight. You say your dad was making a
movie
? That’s a good one. Haw-haw-haw! And he was
how
old? Haw-haw-haw!” He was laughing at Nicholas for believing such a dubious story. “All’s I can tell you, kid, is that your old man shoulda been sent up to juvie hall for what he done. I think he wrecked that boat ’cause he thought it would be fun.”

“Look, just forget it,” said Nicholas, turning to walk back to his bike. But then something growing inside him made him stop in his tracks and spin around. “I don’t care if you believe it or not, but he was making a movie, and if you knew
anything
about being a cop, you would
have asked a few questions and found out there was a camera with potential
evidence
on the film. Evidence that would have
proved
that my dad didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Hey, you can’t come around here bad-mouthin’ me, you little—”

Nicholas wasn’t done, though. “And if you had taken five minutes to look at the boat, you would have found some other very interesting evidence. Somebody
cut
the steering cable and sawed halfway through the backstay. But I guess you were too busy worrying about whose boat you were going to go drinking on, now that your buddy’s boat was trashed. Come on, Charlie, let’s get out of here.”

“Gladly.”

Nicholas threw his leg over his bike and turned to face the trailer. “Oh, and one more thing, mister. Put some
pants
on. And buy a shirt that fits.
Nobody
wants to see that.”

* * *

When they got back to Nick’s house, they found him standing on the dock with the twins and Jo, about to row out to
Goblin
for an afternoon sail. The morning’s strong winds and rain were long gone, replaced by deep blue skies and a pleasant breeze, and the twins admonished their older brother to hurry so they could take advantage of the perfect conditions.

Nick smiled while Jo watched in wonder as Nicholas and Charlie took charge after climbing aboard
Goblin
. Without a moment’s hesitation, they removed the cover from the mainsail, hanked on the jib and staysail, and rigged the sheets. Then they raised the main, tying off the halyard and coiling it neatly. Nicholas then casually walked to the bow and reached down and unclipped from the mooring after Nick gave him the “okay” sign. Charlie trimmed in the mainsail while Nick, at the tiller, slowly bore away onto a beam reach. Not a single word had been spoken.

Hayley and Hetty noticed, too.

“Why is everyone so quiet?” whispered Hetty.

“Shhh,” said Hayley. “Just listen. It’s like a ghost ship.”

And so they went, up and down the lake, silent except for the sound of the bow creaming through the water and the occasional creak of the wooden mast, until Hetty could take it no longer.

“I’m sorry, but I just
have
to talk.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her admission.

“Why don’t you come back here and take the tiller awhile, Het?” Nick asked. “It’s a good day for you and your sister to get some time at the helm.”

“R-really?” Hetty said, looking nervously at the sails and water. “I’ve never steered when there was wind—when we were actually
moving
.”

“No time like the present,” said Nick. “Come on. You too, Hayley. I’ll be right here next to you. Show your mom what you’ve learned.”

As the twins joined him and their mother in the aft part of the cockpit, Nicholas and Charlie moved up to the foredeck, where they sat side by side, dangling their feet over the edge.

“That was pretty cool, what you did today,” said Charlie. “Sticking up for your dad like that. God, what a
creep
that guy was. I can’t believe they ever let him be sheriff.”

“Can I tell you something? Just between us? I was shaking like mad after I said all that stuff. I thought he was going to
shoot
me or something. I’ve never done anything like that before. He just ticked me off—it’s like he was making fun of my dad,
and
of me, all at the same time.”

“That reminds me—I need to call my dad tonight. Maybe he’ll remember something different. Or explain why his cousin was acting the way he was.”

“So … um, you’ve never really talked about your dad. He raises ostriches?”

“Yep, that’s my dad. The Ostrich King of Trumbull County, Ohio. He got remarried last year to this woman named Linda. She’s all right, I guess—she has two kids. My dad is … well, the way Mom puts it, he’s kind of a dreamer. To tell the truth, though, I think she’s being … I mean, he’s my dad, and I love him and all, but calling him a dreamer is sugarcoating the truth. He’s always looking for some crazy way to get rich without really having to work.”

“And you can do that raising
ostriches
?”

Charlie laughed. “I know, right? But he swears that
ostrich meat is the next big thing. I’ve had it—it’s not bad, actually. But Mom never says anything negative about him around me, even when he forgets to show up on the weekends I’m supposed to stay with him, or just completely misses my birthday.”

“Youch. Your birthday?”

“That’s only happened a couple of times.”

“You’re only twelve! Two birthdays is a lot. You know, I don’t understand grown-ups at all. There’s all these movies and shows and books about people meeting and falling in love, but it’s all so phony because, like, five years later, they’re all divorced. They don’t show you that part.”

“Not everyone gets divorced.”

“All my friends’ parents are.”

“All?”

Nicholas hedged a little. “Okay, not
all
. But most.”

“Ah, so there’s still hope for true love, you see. It may be on life support, but it’s not dead yet.”

* * *