So Over My Head (2010)

by Jenny B. Jones

  As I drive to the carnival after school Tuesday, I punch the button on my phone with as much consideration as one would give the command for a nuclear bomb.

  “Bella?”

  “Hey, Hunter. It’s me. I know, surprise, right?” Never thought I’d be calling my ex-boyfriend, pond-sludge sucker that he is. “Yeah, I’m good. Um, there’s kind of a reason for my call.”

  “Missing me?”

  Boys. Do they allthink they’re God’s gift to the planet?

  “No, I do notmiss you.”

  “Give it time. You will.”

  Yeah, like the flu. I turn down my stereo as Hunter Penbrook prattles on about changing, turning his life around, mending his ways. Blah, blah, blah. Heard it all before. Even fell for it once. But never twice.

  “Hey, Hunter I hate to interrupt your dissertation on your virtues, and I think your new vegetarian diet is very noble, by the way, but I need your help.”

  Silence.

  “The last few times I’ve been to see Dad things have been pretty weird.” I explain my odd Christina moments. “There is definitely something going on there, but I can’t be in two places at once. Time is of the essence because Dad’s getting married in June. So if Christina’s not on the up-and-up, and I strongly suspect she isn’t, then I need to get proof of that soon. I can’t just go to him with suspicions.”

  His deep voice fills my ear. “So what do you want me to do about it?”

  “Remember the last time you were in Truman—you know when you were pretending to be someone you weren’t because Jake’s reality show was paying you?”

  His excuses and apologies come in sputters.

  “Save it. I do recall, though, in one of your crying fits that one of the things you said was that you’d do anything for me. Remember that, my little dumplin’?”

  His sigh blows into the phone. “I didn’t cry.”

  “Okay.” I guess now is not the time to bring up his sordid, teary-eyed past. “Well, I need your help.”

  “Name it.”

  Nice. If only Luke were this biddable. “I need you to find out who’s staying in that hotel room.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “I’ll send you a Christmas card this year.”

  “You sent me one last year.”

  “I promise not to stick my tongue out in this one. Can you just help me out here?”

  “How’s the new boyfriend?”

  Um. “Fine.”

  “That didn’t sound fine. Trouble in nerd paradise?”

  “Luke is not a nerd.” Only Ican call him that. “He’s brilliant, stu-dious, while also being conveniently buff.”

  “So you two are happy?”

  “Every day is another twenty-four hours of bliss.”

  Hunter laughs. “Bella? Our maids play poker together. I know you broke up with that guy.”

  “Can you find out who’s in room 857 or not? I’m not asking you to save the world here—just do a little snooping around, a little stake-out in front of her door.”

  “Did I ruin you for anyone else?”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Yeah, your cheating ways are so hot, I can’t bear to be with anyone else now.” If I were standing in front of the guy, I’d have to gouge out his eyes just on principle.

  “No. I mean you were already leery of trusting anyone. And then I pushed you over the edge with all the crap I pulled.” His voice is strangely sincere.

  “Twice.”

  “Twice.” More silence. “You know, even after two years of dating, you always did hold back.”

  “If this is about that night at your parent’s lake house, I toldyou I had my boundaries.”

  “He’s not me, but I thought that Luke character was a pretty good guy. You should’ve seen the way he looked at you at prom. And when he saw you hurt—” Hunter expels a ragged breath. “Never mind. What do I care?”

  I pull into my spot at the carnival and turn off the Bug. “Hunter, you’re the last person I’m going to take relationship advice from. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “I’ll do it. Because I really am a better person these days.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, keep me updated. And . . . thanks.”

  “Bella? Give the guy a chance. Anybody who’s saved your life a couple times can’t be all that bad. What are you afraid of?”

  The line goes dead, and I sit there with my head on the steering wheel. Hunter Penbrook just went all love-doctor on me. Oh, the irony. It’s like taking advice on conservative attire from Britney Spears.

  When I walk into the big top, there’s a small crowd beneath the trapeze.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Melvin, the fire-eating midget, points toward the ceiling. “Red’s making Stewart and Cherry do the Praying Mantis.”

  “Since when does Stewart know the trapeze?”

  “He was raised on it. Trained by Cherry’s parents. He just took a few months off to try his hand at managerial duties. But his dad has put him back on as an aerialist starting tonight.”

  “So what’s the Praying Mantis?”

  His brown eyes darken. “It’s the routine that killed Cherry’s parents.”

  Dolly is gonna freak. “Is it incredibly dangerous?”

  Melvin shakes his head. “It’s not impossible. That night her parents died, there were equipment malfunctions. And her dad removed the nets—he insisted. He wanted to take the trapeze team to a new level. He thought it would put our carnival up there with the best of them.”

  I watch Red yell at Cherry and sigh. “And then the Fritz Family Carnival became memorable for all the wrong reasons.”

  “You got it. But Red wants to change that.”

  Cherry misses Stewart’s outstretched arm.

  “You idiot!” Stewart hisses. “Do you need glasses?”

  “Pay attention!” Red yells. “This isn’t a game.”

  “I know!” Cherry stands in the nest. “I—we just haven’t worked together in a while. Can’t Rusty and I do this? He’s been my partner since March.”

  “No.” Red curls his mustache between his fingers. “You are both of Fritz blood—circus royalty! It must be you two. Take a ten-minute break.” Red claps his hands at Cherry and Stewart like he’s a lion tamer.

  I do a quick turn when a hand latches onto my shoulder.

  “Jumpy today.” Luke stands there, an arrogant smile tugging on his lips.

  “I was watching Cherry and Stewart.” I take a few steps away from the dissipating crowd. “Cherry talked Dolly into taking the dog home, by the way.”

  “Didn’t Dolly want to know why they weren’t returning it to Red?”

  “Cherry explained it’s what Betty would’ve wanted. Told her she’d heard Red was done with the dog, and his idea of retiring an animal wasn’t too pretty. That’s all it took for Dolly.” I pause. “Luke, um, I need a little favor.”

  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “Would you mind getting my flashlight where I left it?”

  “I guess.” He shrugs. “Where’d you leave it?”

  “In Alfredo’s trailer.”

  “What?”

  “Shhh!” I clamp my hand over his mouth. “It was an accident.”

  Luke pries my fingers from his face, keeping my hand hostage. “An accident that you were in there or that you left it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bella . . .” His growl is scarier than my clown routine. “How did it get in Alfredo’s trailer again?”

  “I might’ve dropped it a few weeks ago when I was digging around.” I rush on to explain. “There hasn’t been a single chance to get it. I’ve tried.”

  His left eye twitches as he rolls this through his oversized brain. “Would this be the flashlight I got you? With your nameon it?”

  The one that came with a card that said, Your laugh lights up myday. “That’s the one. And I really want it back.”

  “You needit back, you mean. So they won’t know where
you’ve been.” He lets my hand fall like he can’t stand the connection any longer. “So within weeks of my gift, you ditch it in Alfredo the Killer’s trailer. I can tell it meant a lot to you.”

  “That’s not fair. For your information, that flashlight did mean a lot to me,” I snap. “I thought of you every time I prowled through someone’s belongings.”

  Luke closes his eyes and stares at the ceiling. “The likelihood of it still being there is slim. I cannot believe you took a chance like that.”

  “Someone was coming, and I had dropped it. Just find a way to sneak into Alfredo’s trailer.” I soften my voice. “Please? If you do, I won’t insult your favorite blonde reporter one time tomorrow.” I pat his chest and give him some more directions. “Be careful, ’kay?”

  Ruthie arrives on the scene, cutting off any blistering remark Luke might’ve had. “Yo, carny dudes. What is up?”

  I grab Ruthie by the hand. “Come on. We need to go talk to Stewart while he’s on break in his trailer.”

  “We do?”

  “Bella—” Luke warns.

  I shoo him away with my hand as I pull Ruthie along. “Godspeed, Luke. May the force be with you. Oh, and also if you’d provide a distraction for Stewart in about three minutes, that’d be swell.” I give Ruthie a hard yank. “Move quickly before he comes after us.”

  “What’s going on, boss?”

  “We’re going to go talk to Stewart about an idea you have for your unicycle ballet.”

  “But I don’t have an idea.”

  “You have about ten seconds to get one.”

  chapter eighteen

  Ruthie and I disappear around back, and I take us straight to Stewart’s trailer. My hand shakes only slightly when I knock.

  “What do you want?”

  I pull open the door. “Stew?” I reserve my prettiest voice for only the creepiest of men. “Can we come in?”

  His gruff tone changes instantly. “Of course.” He swabs his neck with a towel. “I can always make time for two beautiful ladies.”

  Gag. “Ruthie has a great idea for adding to her unicycle routine. She’d like to describe it for you.” I jerk my chin toward Red’s son. “Tell him that amazing idea you were sharing with me.” Makesomething up, Ruthie. Come on.

  “Um, yeah.” She clears her throat and forces a dreamy look into her eyes. “Imagine this. I’m decked out in swan feathers . . .”

  As she paints her unicycling scenario, I scan the office for any sign of a piece of paper that looks like a much-used list. If I had to put money on it, I’d bet the paper Red and Stewart have been using in their search is a map. And since he’s standing here in spandex pants and no shirt—ick!—then it sure isn’t on him now. So unless Red has it, it has to be in this trailer somewhere.

  “. . . And then Melvin the Midget and Wilhemina the Wondrously Tall Woman will come out and serenade me with Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On.’ Then they’ll start throwing the rose petals of course . . .”

  I could start with the desk. Then his sleeping quarters. I hate to search through his undie drawer, but if it has to be done . . .

  A sharp rapping stops my roaming eye.

  Stewart stalks to the door and throws it open. “What?”

  Luke peeks through. “Red said to come and get you. Someone’s let the horses out, and he needs your help.”

  Stewart hesitates as he looks at me and Ruthie.

  “He said to hurry, Stewart.”

  Stewart rushes to the back of the trailer and returns with a shirt. “All right, everyone out. I have to go.”

  “But what about my ideas?” Ruthie calls as we exit onto the grass.

  Throwing up a dismissive hand, Stewart runs toward the animal trailers.

  I regard Luke with a tiny amount of disdain for his lack of improv. “That was gutsy. Red said the horses were out? Like he’s not going to know that’s a lie in a second.”

  “Wasn’t a lie. The horses really are loose. Kinda crazy over there.” He rocks back on his heels. “By the way—no flashlight.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “It’s gone.” And he’s ticked. At me.

  Great! Whoever has it knows I was in that trailer.

  Luke looks past my shoulder. “Are we going to stand here all day or go back in?”

  “Ruthie and I are going in. You stay out here and keep guard.” When he starts to protest I beat him to it. “If Stewart can forgive any-one for being in the trailer, it’s us—seeing as how we’re girls and all.”

  Luke clenches his jaw. “Hurry up. And don’t leave anything this time.”

  “Oh, you’re funny.”

  Five minutes later, I jump as Luke sticks his head in. “Anything?”

  “No!”

  “Hurry, Bella. You’re driving me crazy.” Slam!

  “There’s nothing here, Ruthie. We might as well call it a day. Maybe we’ll get another break and try again later.”

  “Snooping stresses me out. I need a snack.” She peels open the small fridge on the counter.

  “Get out of there!” I shove it closed. “We have to go.”

  “I saw chocolate-covered Oreos!” Her eyes twinkle. “Come on. You have to let me have just one. Nobody can walk away from that temptation.”

  “One. And I’m leaving.” I speed walk to the door.

  “Who would’ve thought Stewart was a boxer guy, huh? I had him pegged as more of a—” Ruthie gasps. “Omigosh!”

  My hand freezes on the door.

  “I found it.” She holds up a yellowed piece of paper. “I found a treasure map!”

  Brain in overdrive. Heart beating out of my chest. Think! Think! I don’t know what to do.

  I turn a full circle around the trailer. The printer. I’ll make a copy!

  “Ruthie, keep an eye on the door.” My pulse races, the sound echoing in my head. If we get caught . . . I don’t even want to think about it. I slap the paper down on the machine, and close the lid. The printer sounds too loud in the silence of the small office.

  When someone bangs on the door, Ruthie and I both squeal.

  “Hide!” comes Luke’s voice from outside.

  My eyes flit to the desk. To the sleeping area in the back. Maybe under the dining table?

  “Come on. We must have company.” I grab Ruthie by the arm and pull her into the bathroom. Shutting the door, I follow her into the cramped shower, where we stand close enough to be PG-13.

  “Don’t think I usually do this on the first date,” Ruthie whispers. “You’re an exception.”

  I hear the trailer door open. Then Stewart’s voice. “I don’t have time to talk right now.”

  “But I have some questions about the lighting for Ruthie’s ballet,” Luke says, his volume raised.

  “Look, I have bigger things to deal with than some unicycle act.”

  Ruthie’s mouth drops into an O. I squeeze her arm and shoot her a warning look. Donot say a word!

  Luke tries again. “If you could come out here and look at the light board—”

  “You were told to help with the horses. Now get out there or leave the grounds and don’t come back.”

  I hear Luke expel a harsh breath then the door slams again, rocking the trailer.

  He’s gone? Now what? I left the map in the printer. I’m such an idiot! I could’ve at least grabbed that. We could be stuck in here with a potential killer. My mom is going to be so mad!

  I raise my mouth to Ruthie’s ear. “Work together. Follow my lead.”

  I wrench open the bathroom door. “Surprise!”

  Stewart jumps straight up, and a string of curses split the air.

  I launch into song. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” I clap my hands and walk toward him as Ruthie helps me finish the tune. “Yay!”

  I hug Stewart, waving madly with my hands to my friend. Goget the maps!

  Stewart leans his scrawny self into me and pulls me close. Ew. Ruthie fumbles with the printer as time stretches
into an eternity.

  Must stall. “Stewart, close your eyes,” I purr.

  “Oh? Really?”

  “Now, no cheating. I’ll be mad if you do.” I take a step back. “You don’t want me angry, do you?” I pucker my lips in a saucy pout.

  “No,” comes his breathy reply.

  “I didn’t think so. Because I have a birthday present for you.”

  “But it’s not really my birthday.”

  He closes his eyes, and I change places with him, turning him away from the office. “I guess I must’ve heard wrong then.” I place my hands on his shoulders and squeeze. I’m totally washing these hands in bleach when I get home. “How about a birthday shoulder massage!”

  “Uh . . .” His voice is a deflated balloon. “I guess.”

  Yeah, that’sall you’re getting. What was he thinking? Creep.

  I let out the breath I’m holding as Ruthie slowly extracts the map and picks up the copy, which disappears down her shirt. I jerk my head toward the refrigerator. Go!

  “What’s all that noise?” Stewart asks.

  “That’s just Ruthie warming up her hands. She’s a whiz at shiatsu. Keep those eyes closed!” As Ruthie moves, I shift Stewart until he’s facing the office again. “You have such strong shoulders!” And bony. Almost skeletal in fact. Sonot hot.

  I check over my shoulder to see Ruthie in the fridge.

  And that’s when the trailer door busts open again.

  “Dad!”

  I drop my hands. “Mr. Fritz!”

  “This is treachery! It will notbe tolerated!” Red’s mottled face radiates with fury. It’s all over.

  “Dad, I—”

  Ruthie and I look at each other, and somehow I find my voice. “Mr. Fritz, if you’ll let me explain—”

  “I’ll have his head on a platter!” Red roars.

  Stewart stands up uncertainly. “I’ll find out who let the horses—”

  “Horses?” With wild eyes, Red shakes his head. “I’m talking about Alfredo.”

  I blink. “Huh?”

  “Alfredo DeLucci. He escaped from prison this afternoon.” Red’s eyes pierce his son. “Seems the magician has vanished into thin air.”

  chapter nineteen

  The birds sing happy morning songs, as I get my tired body out of the Bug and join Luke and Ruthie in the school courtyard.