Criminally Cocoa

by Amanda Flower

Raymond was speaking to the cameraman Teven—I always paused when I heard the cameraman’s name. Englisch was not my first language, but the name reminded me of the number seven; perhaps it was intended to be “Steven” but somehow someone had dropped off a letter.

  Teven turned slowly, his mouth drawing down when Linc called his name. Linc said something more to Teven and reluctantly followed Linc to where I was standing with Juliet and Jethro. Bailey saw him coming, so she and Cass joined us as well.

  Raymond stopped in front of Juliet and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You don’t look Amish either.”

  “Oh, I’m not the star that Linc is talking about.” Juliet blushed. She held Jethro up to the director’s face. “Jethro is.”

  Raymond took a big step back. “Is this a joke?”

  “I told you,” Linc scolded him. “The footage we shot in Harvest included the village pig.”

  “They have village pigs in Ohio?” Raymond scowled.

  “He’s not really the village pig,” Juliet corrected. “He’s my pig, my comfort pig.”

  Raymond narrowed his eyes. “Of course it is.” His hands shot to his hips as he turned away from Juliet and squared off with the executive producer. “Linc, really, what are you trying to turn this production into, some kind of petting zoo? I’m a serious director and should be treated as such.”

  “Yes, yes, Raymond, we all know about your illustrious career shooting antacid commercials. You were going nowhere before I signed you to direct for Gourmet Television. It would serve you well to remember that.”

  Cass winced. “Harsh,” she whispered in Bailey’s ear just loud enough for me to hear.

  Linc beamed. “Jethro will be a great addition to the publicity shoot.”

  Raymond folded his arms. “We should be shooting the show today, not photographs.” He shot a look at Bailey. “But since someone made a miscalculation in the kitchen, we aren’t able to do that.”

  Cass stepped in front of Bailey. “I hope you aren’t implying that my client was in any way responsible for yesterday’s incident. She’s not the one who sets up for the shoot; your crew does that.”

  Raymond looked as if he wanted to say something scathing back, but Linc stepped between them. “Let’s not go back to that old argument now. What’s done is done. No one is at fault. It was a freak accident in the kitchen. No one was harmed, and the set will be as good as new tomorrow for the six a.m. call.”

  I glanced at Bailey and saw that she was biting her lower lip. It was a habit she had when she was upset or nervous. She still wasn’t over the incident from the day before, and I couldn’t blame her for that. Also, I peeked at Maria again. Maria was someone who was responsible for setting up. Maybe she knew more about the double boiler incident than she was letting on. I made up my mind to keep my eye on her.

  Chapter Six

  “Hold the spatula out to the pig! Great! Great! That’s the shot.” The rail-thin photographer looked over his shoulder at Linc and Raymond. “These publicity shots are going to kill. The pig really makes it.” He spoke in a thick German accent, and I wondered if I said a few words to him in Pennsylvania Dutch whether he would know what I was saying. I knew a little bit of High German because our church services back home were conducted in that language, but I was too timid to speak at all to this sophisticated man.

  “Bringing the pig in was a great idea,” Todd whispered to me as we watched the photo session. “It was a big surprise when Linc told us this morning.”

  I glanced at him. “This might be a shock, but it wasn’t a big surprise to me or to Bailey. It’s seems that Jethro has a knack for always getting tangled up in whatever Bailey is doing.”

  He cocked his head. “Why’s that?”

  I pressed my lips together and wondered if I’d said too much.

  “Come on,” Todd said. “You can’t leave me hanging as to why the pig is here. I thought we were friends.”

  I blinked at him. “I haven’t known you long enough to think of you as a friend.”

  He chuckled. “I love your Amish honesty. I have to say, Charlotte, it’s so refreshing to meet a straight shooter like you.”

  “A straight shooter? Like shooting a gun?”

  He shook his head with a giant grin on his face. “You’re honest. That’s hard to come by in this business. That’s all I mean.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “So tell me about the pig.”

  I took a breath. “Jethro is Juliet’s pig, and Juliet is the mother of Bailey’s boyfriend, Aiden. Juliet really wants Aiden and Bailey to get married, so she seems to show up everywhere Bailey goes to remind Bailey of that. Wherever Juliet goes, so does Jethro, and ever since Juliet learned that Bailey was getting a television show, she has been adamant that Jethro needed one too.” I shrugged. It was the best I could do explaining Jethro’s role in Bailey’s life.

  “Interesting dynamics you have in Amish country.”

  I nodded absently.

  “I wanted to tell you, too, that I have been keeping an eye out for more trouble like I promised.”

  I turned to look at him. “You mean like the explosion.”

  “Yes, I double-checked everything today, and nothing can hurt Bailey or anyone else on set. I have your back, Charlotte.”

  I nodded even though I had no idea what he meant when he said that he had my back. “Did you find anything strange at all?”

  He shook his head. “And I’ve been keeping a close eye on Maria too. Her behavior hasn’t changed at all. She’s still her normal irritable self. If I ever saw her smiling, I would know something was most definitely up.”

  “Gut.” I nodded. “Maybe what happened yesterday really was an accident. It’s possible that the knobs on the stove could have been accidently bumped, and that’s what caused them to turn upside down like that. Also, maybe the bowl was just cracked on the bottom like Bailey thought, so it could have all been an accident.”

  He removed his hands from his pockets. “The more I think about it, the more I believe it was just an accident too. So glad that no one got hurt, but you should probably put what happened behind you.”

  “Todd!” Raymond cried from where he and Teven stood.

  “Duty calls,” he said with a smile and sauntered away.

  I watched him go. As much as I wanted to believe what had happened yesterday was an accident, I couldn’t shake the image of those upside-down knobs out of my head or the piece of glass that Todd had shown me. I couldn’t shake the idea that someone had done it on purpose with the intention of hurting Bailey.

  Juliet walked over to me and gave a happy sigh. “This is such a dream come true for Jethro. I have to pinch myself over it.”

  “Jethro dreamed of being on TV?” I asked. As far as I knew, pigs didn’t have big dreams, or televisions, but I knew the Englisch understood animals differently than the Amish did.

  “Yes, of course, he and I share the same dreams. We’re so interconnected, you see, that we want the same things.” Juliet smiled.

  “Oh,” I said, but I didn’t understand her at all.

  “Can we get a few more with Bailey holding the pig in one arm and the chocolate-covered spatula in the other?” Cass asked. “I want some tight shots that show the affection between the two of them.”

  “Oh yes,” Juliet said. “That’s wonderful.”

  Bailey gave Cass a look.

  “I’m just trying to sell you the best way I know how, darling,” Cass said.

  “Thanks,” Bailey muttered and picked up the pig, holding him close to her face. She held out her spoon to the pig, and Jethro pressed his chocolate-covered snout onto Bailey’s cheek. Bailey laughed.

  “Did you get that?” Cass shouted.

  The photographer pumped his arm.

  “That’s the one that’s going on the side of buses,” Linc said.
He and Cass gave each other a high five.

  “Buses,” Bailey whimpered.

  Raymond cleared his throat. “Now that you are finished with your little bit of fun, I think it would be a good idea to get some opening film for the show here.”

  Bailey handed Jethro back to Juliet. “I’m okay with that. Has anyone heard the status of the set?”

  “It’s just about ready. The cleaning crew is doing a knockout job. Maria went back there to oversee things.” He looked at the photographer. “Do you have what you need?”

  “I have more than enough,” the photographer said. “Bailey, you are a natural in front of the camera, and that pig is on another level. I’d shoot him any day of the week. He’s a star.”

  Juliet looked as if she would burst with pride at the very idea that her pig was a star. “Maybe we can discuss headshots for Jethro?”

  He nodded enthusiastically, and Juliet followed the photographer to a spot by a tree where he’d left his tripod.

  Bailey smiled and walked over to where Cass and I were standing. “I’ll admit that I had my reservations, but, Cass, you are a genius. Bringing Jethro here was a great idea, and I think everyone has forgotten what went wrong yesterday.”

  Cass gave her a thumbs-up. “Remember this if you remember nothing else in show biz: always trust your agent.”

  “You did wonderfully, Bailey,” I said. “Everything is going to be fine now. You’re doing great.”

  She laughed. “You are a chief encourager, Charlotte. Are you sure you were never a cheerleader?”

  I blinked at her. “There aren’t any Amish cheerleaders.”

  She laughed. “I know. I was teasing you, but, seriously, thank you for everything you do and for coming all this way to be on the show with me. It means a lot.”

  “I’m happy to do it. You know that.”

  The photographer came back with his camera and a sparkle in his eye. “I think I need just one more shot to put this film to bed.”

  “What’s that?” Bailey asked, taking a step forward because she assumed, as everyone else did, that he wanted to take another photograph of her.

  “Not you.” He pointed at me. “Her.”

  I pointed at myself. “Me?”

  “Charlotte?” Bailey and Cass asked at the same time.

  “I’m not sure…” I trailed off. How did I explain to a man like this that it was against my beliefs to have my photograph taken? He wouldn’t understand it; not many Englischers did.

  Bailey stepped in front of me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  At the same time, Linc clapped his hands. “I think it’s capital.”

  Bailey took another step. “But—”

  Linc smiled at Bailey. “Now, Bailey, you are the star of the show. Charlotte isn’t going to steal your thunder.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about…”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”

  Bailey looked at me. “Are you sure? This photograph could potentially show up in more places than just on television.”

  “I know it could be on the side of buses,” I said with a brave smile.

  Bailey pulled me aside. “Charlotte, you have already done so much for me and for the show; you don’t have to do this, if you aren’t comfortable.”

  I straightened my shoulders. “I want to. I’m not baptized yet, so I can do it at least in Clara’s district. It would have been a giant no-no in my old district, but so was playing the organ and a whole host of other things. That’s why I left.”

  She bit her lip.

  I smiled. “Bailey, I’m trying to decide whether to be Amish or not for the rest of my life, and experiences like this will help me do that.” Here was another aspect of my religion and culture that few Englischers could truly understand. This period of my life, prior to my baptism, this Rumspringa, wasn’t just about trying things and seeing the world beyond Amish country. It was about choice. Ours was not a religion in which we expected our followers to be blind to the world. No, we were encouraged young people to see—and then we had to choose.

  “If you’re sure…”

  I smiled. “I’m sure.”

  “Are we settled on this?” the photographer asked impatiently. “The light is perfect now. I don’t want to lose it.”

  “We are.” I stepped forward and took Jethro from Juliet’s arms. I held the pig to my chest.

  “Great.” The photographer wiped at his brow. “Good. Let’s move before the light does. I’d like the pig to walk beside Charlotte—is that your name?”

  I nodded and clenched my hands.

  “Right, I would like the pig and Charlotte to walk across the grass like they are on a Sunday stroll.”

  “On a leash?” Bailey asked.

  “No, I want the pig to just walk alongside the girl. The leash will ruin the shot.”

  “Can you edit the leash out?” Bailey asked. “Jethro has a reputation for running off, and we wouldn’t want him to get lost in the park.”

  “Everyone thinks you can edit anything in and out of a photograph. That may be true, but I’m a purist. I would much rather not put something in my shot that I will have to take out later. Not if I can avoid it.”

  Bailey looked as if she wanted to argue more, but then Juliet spoke up. “Don’t fret about it, Bailey. Jethro will behave perfectly. He won’t run away here. He doesn’t know this place. He might be more apt to run away at home, where he always knows how to get back to the church.”

  “Good, good,” the photographer said and pointed to me. “Go about ten yards from where we are standing now, set the pig on the ground next to you, and walk.”

  “Walk? Just walk?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “I will give you more direction if I need to then.”

  I took a deep breath and did as I was told. I didn’t look at Bailey before I headed out into the field because I didn’t want to see the concern on her face. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wasn’t baptized into the Amish church yet and could do more or less what I pleased. I’d never been the focus of a camera before. I didn’t know what it would feel like. Or how I’d feel seeing a photo of myself afterward.

  As I set Jethro on the grass next to me, I patted his head and whispered: “Be a good pig and stay with me. Don’t run away, okay?”

  He looked up at me, and I heard the click, click of the camera.

  The photographer waved at me. “Don’t look at me. Be natural like you were being. Now walk!”

  I started to walk, and Maria stepped onto the grass next to Linc. The two spoke for a moment. I glanced down at Jethro. Much to my amazement, the pig walked next to me like we went on strolls like this all the time, just the two of us. We never had.

  I glanced back at Linc and Maria. Maria’s penetrating gaze on me was distracting, and I stumbled over a bit of loose turf.

  “Charlotte,” the photographer shouted with his thick German accent. “Pay attention. You were doing so well. Don’t let what is going on around you take your attention away!”

  I nodded, and Maria walked out of the park. A second later, a loud horn honked, and Jethro took off.

  Chapter Seven

  I wasn’t sure which was worse. The prospect of chasing a terrified pig through Central Park in my Amish clothing or listening to Juliet wail over losing her comfort animal.

  Bailey asked me to stay with Juliet as she and Cass went running into the park looking for Jethro. I felt better when I saw Todd run into the park, too, to search for the little pig.

  As much as I wanted to join the search, I knew I would help much more by keeping Juliet calm, not that I thought I was doing a great job at that.

  Juliet clung to my arm and cried. Between her tears she said, “This city is so big. How will we ever find him? He’s a country pig. He doesn’t understand how li
fe in the big city works. How will I ever get along without him, and oh, Reverend Brook will be so brokenhearted if something happens to Jethro. You know how he loves that pig so. Why, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he jumped on the next plane to be with me during this difficult time. He is working hard getting ready for the Lenten season, of course, but he cares deeply for all his parishioners and would want to comfort any of us in our time of need, even me.”

  Despite the stress of the situation, I couldn’t help but internally smile at the thought that even at such a time as this, when her pig was missing, Juliet insisted on acting as if she wasn’t an extraspecial parishioner to Reverend Brook. Everyone knew how they felt about each other. Why did they insist on hiding their feelings for all these years? Neither of them was married.

  I patted her hand. “I know, but let’s wait before we tell Reverend Brook. It’s no use worrying him until we are sure.”

  “Hey!” Todd cried, running toward me at top speed. “This way. A cyclist said he saw Jethro down this path.”

  Juliet ripped her arm from my grasp and took off shouting Jethro’s name. I took a breath and ran after her. The path started behind a thick stand of trees. I came to a halt when I reached the other side of the trees. The path was wide, more like a buggy trail that any walking path that I had ever seen, and it was so crowded. Hundreds of people walked, ran, skated, rode bikes, and cruised on skateboards on the path.

  “Where’s Jethro?” Juliet asked. She was crying now. I patted her arm and searched the path, and then finally I spotted Todd, who was talking to a man on a bike. The bike was bright red and decorated with silver handmade pinwheels all over it that twirled in the breeze. The man wore glasses with lens as thick as my hand. My face fell. How could a man with such difficulty seeing spot a black-and-white pig the size of a toaster in this crowd?

  Todd shook the man’s hand, and the cyclist turned his bike around and pedaled off in the opposite direction.

  “That was Mac,” Todd said. “He’s a fixture in the park. If something odd is happening, he notices. He said that he saw Jethro running down the path dodging walkers and runners like his curled tail was on fire.”