—
Sam hid the costume in the car that night, not wanting to deal with it. But the next morning he brought it out to show his family. He hoped that it would look better with fresh eyes, but instead it was worse. The wig was a terrible sight—bright and fake-yellow, with big pink roses woven through the curls. Sam held it up at breakfast.
“See what I mean? It’s awful, right? I’m not just making this up. It’s really, really bad! I just…how am I supposed to play the role dressed like this?” He shook the velvet pants.
Sam’s brothers and parents stared silently at the costume. Sam was gloomily satisfied that they looked as horrified as he felt. Papa, in particular, was incredulous.
“What the heck?” he asked, tentatively touching the wig, then pulling his hand away as though it burned. “I mean, if you’re going to rock a wig, it should at least be a good wig.”
Sam flapped his hands impatiently. “What does it matter about the quality? It’s hideous! I can’t wear it! It has nothing to do with Puck, the way I imagined him. And…” He trailed off. “Everyone else is older than me, and no one else is complaining or anything. So I don’t know what to do.”
He flopped face-first onto the couch, which was gritty with sand, as usual. The Nugget had sand everywhere, all summer long, no matter how often Papa bellowed at them to rinse off in the outdoor shower before coming inside. Sam shifted uncomfortably.
Jax poked at the wig, then shook his head, in clear disgust. “You can’t wear that! There’s no way! Right? Dad, Papa, you’ll talk to the director, won’t you?”
Dad sat next to Sam on the couch and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “I wish I could, but I think this is something Sam has to deal with on his own. He’s right—no one else is going to have their parents complaining about their costume. I think this is one of those times we can’t really do a whole lot.” He leaned back and looked at the costume again, lying on the back of the chair where Sam had left it. “It certainly is a disaster of a costume!”
Sam was ready to quit the play. This was NOT what he had signed up for. If there were photos of him in that wig…He shuddered.
“Well, at least—” Eli started, but before he could finish, Lili came tearing into the room from Dad and Papa’s bedroom, with Zeus close behind her, his bushy tail streaming out in a gray streak.
“Watch it!” Jax yelled as the cats raced across the coffee table, launched themselves into the air, then landed, one after the other, on the kitchen counter. “They’re nuts!”
This, unfortunately, was nothing new. “The witching hour,” as Dad called it, came over them frequently, and they would leap from the sleeping loft, race through the house, and generally cause mayhem and anxiety.
Lili gave a weird yowl and jumped off the counter onto the dining room table. She stopped short, regarded the costume for a second, then launched herself at it. Zeus followed close behind.
“Get off! Get them off!” Sam yelled, trying to extract himself from Dad’s hug and the squishy couch cushions.
“Lili! Stop that!” Frog yelled. He reached for the kitten, but she had tangled herself deep in the synthetic blond strands of the wig, rolling and snarling it around her claws. She yowled and Zeus flung himself on her, whether to attack or rescue her, it was unclear.
“NO!” Sam yelled. As bad as the wig was, he didn’t want it mangled! Alan had already lectured them all about the theater’s shoestring budget and how they couldn’t afford any extra expenses.
“Get the cat treats! Quick!” Eli yelled, following his own orders and running for the kitchen. Sure enough, when he shook the jar of treats both cats froze. “Come on, Lili-cat,” he cooed. “Time for a treat.”
Lili looked up at him, her green eyes almost hidden by the now chewed and frizzy nylon strands of the wig. Carefully, Eli moved in and untangled her.
Sam picked up the wig. “I can’t…What the…What am I supposed to do now? Look at this thing!” He shook it.
The family regarded the wig in silence. It had gone from looking like an ugly wig to looking like…well, like something the cat had chewed up and spit out.
“I’m going outside. I can’t deal with this.” Sam flung the wig down and ran for the door. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, the wig was now completely ruined, so he didn’t have to wear it. On the other…he had to explain that to Alan, and somehow he thought the whole “the cat ate my wig” story was unlikely to cut it.
He nearly slammed into Val and Alex, who were walking up the yard.
“Whoa! What’s wrong?” Alex asked. She was holding a bucket. “We came to see if you wanted to walk the road with us. The blackberries are insane right now! But you look like you’re going to kill someone.”
Val gave him a sympathetic look. “Is this about the costume? I could tell it wasn’t really what you had in mind. I don’t blame you….I’ve never seen a Puck who looks like that. Especially a boy Puck. I wonder if the person who was going to play the part was a girl.”
Sam shrugged. It didn’t really matter at this point. He had a lame costume and a ruined wig, and somehow he had to make them work.
“You know, I once read an awesome book about a boy who traveled back in time to Shakespeare’s day and actually met and hung out with William Shakespeare, and they acted in A Midsummer Night’s Dream together,” Val said. “And Puck wore body paint and weird antennae and looked really cool. I wonder if Alan would be interested in that.”
“Probably not,” Sam said gloomily. “He already chose the costumes. And he’s not about to change them just because I say so.”
“Well, maybe I’ll say so,” Val said, undaunted. “Because your costume now is a nightmare.”
Sam shook his head. “Just leave it,” he said. He didn’t want to make it worse.
“Why shouldn’t I at least ask?” Val said, hands on her hips. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned with Mami, it’s that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. What’s the worst Alan can do to me? Say no? Tell me I can’t film the production?” She shrugged. “Puh-lease. He needs me to film it if he wants it to be shown on the local cable access channel.”
Sam couldn’t help being impressed by Val’s boldness.
“If…well, if you don’t mind, that would be cool. I mean, I guess it can’t hurt,” he said.
“Val will boss anyone around,” Alex said, shoving her sister lightly. She looked a little proud. “You should have heard her yesterday. We were trying to listen in on Kark and those suit guys—who are still on the island, by the way—at the Sisterhood. And this big group of day-trippers came in and sat between us and them, and Val totally asked them to move.” She shook her head. “It’s a little scary. You’re as bad as Mami.”
Val seemed unconcerned. “You need to go after what you want in this world. I want to make movies, which is my long-term goal, and I want to know what that weirdo is up to on this island! Dad’s been talking about this place forever, and we haven’t been here since we were babies, and now all of a sudden this Kark guy is going to buy the lighthouse and it might need to be torn down? I don’t buy it.” She scowled.
Sam couldn’t help laughing. Alex laughed too.
“Okay, Sherlock,” Alex said. “You keep trying to solve the mystery. In the meantime, Sam, tell those guys to come on already! I want those blackberries!”
Jax was bummed. They had just over a week left on the island, and they hadn’t gotten anywhere. Eli kept nagging them to do another fund-raiser, but so far the lemonade stand, the lobster races, and the painted rocks had earned ninety dollars or so. It was a ton of money, if they had it to spend, but nothing compared with what they’d need to save the lighthouse. It hardly felt worth it. Not only was the lighthouse still closed but a bunch of workers in big trucks had come out and done all kinds of surveying and measuring, though what they were measuring was unclear. Still, it made Jax nervous.
“Maybe they’re just measuring what would be required to fix it,” Alex said hopefully.
“Maybe. But I don’t trust them. Hey! Is Val coming to meet us? I wanted her to try to film them, if we find them,” Jax said, craning his neck.
Alex shrugged. “Who knows? She was off to go boss around the director of the play. She said she’d try to find us but not to wait.”
Jax was about to say something when Alex grabbed his arm. “There he is! Come on!” She started down the street toward town hall, where Kark was standing, once again in his terrible green shorts, with a group of men in suits.
Jax and Alex reached the wide stone steps just as the men disappeared inside.
“Darn it,” Jax said, breathing hard. The building looked serious and official, with big stone letters and a plaque on the wall.
“Well, come on! Don’t stop now,” Alex said, starting up the steps. She was dressed, as usual, in sports shorts and an oversized Chicago Bulls T-shirt, her short hair hidden under a ball cap.
Jax glanced down at himself. He was a little dirtier than usual; they had stopped to pick more blackberries on the way into town, and he was stained with blackberry juice and, unfortunately, a bit of blood where the thorns had scratched him.
“Can we go in? I mean, dressed like this?” he asked, hanging back.
“Of course! It’s a public building,” Alex said, opening the huge door.
Jax shook his head, but followed. The Galindo girls were nothing if not bold. He wondered if that came with living in so many foreign countries. Maybe he would be bolder if he hadn’t always lived in Shipton. He doubted it. Jax hated getting in trouble.
“There they go. Let’s follow. But…slowly, like we’re just hanging out,” Alex said, heading down an empty hall.
Jax looked nervously around. Doors with signs like WATER AND SEWER and TOWN CLERK lined the hallway, and inside the rooms people were hard at work, typing on computers and talking on phones. No one looked up as he and Alex walked past.
They moved silently down the carpeted hallway, toward the doorway at the far end, where Kark and his companions had vanished.
When they got there, Jax saw the sign. LAND USE AND PERMITS. Outside the door, which was open a crack, they paused, listening.
“Well, of course we need to see what the surveyors say. It’s our fervent hope that they think the lighthouse can be saved! Of course. But if they feel it’s unrealistic…” Kark’s voice trailed off. “I just wanted to find out about a contingency plan. Strictly a plan B, obviously. We’re all hoping for the best possible outcome.”
Someone else said something about “maintaining the historic character and ensuring that the site has new life,” but Jax couldn’t quite hear the rest. The room was noisy, with a clanking air conditioner and a ringing phone.
Jax and Alex edged closer.
“Mostly we just want to ensure that the pieces are in place so that, if the worst-case scenario does happen, we are able to move quickly on mumblemumble,” Kark said, his voice smooth and soothing.
“What’s he saying?” Jax whispered. “I can’t hear him.”
Alex slid one Converse-sneakered foot into the doorway and nudged the door open, ever so slightly. Jax held his breath.
“Unprecedented, of course,” said another voice, “but we feel mumblemumblemumble.”
Jax was getting frustrated. Was this the secret? They needed to hear! He moved against Alex’s shoulder, pressing closer.
With a crash, they both fell against the door, slamming it open.
“WHAT THE—” Kark yelled, jumping back as Jax and Alex fell into the room.
Jax tried to stop himself from careening forward but only managed to grab on to the edge of a desk—and the leg of the person next to it—as he fought to keep his balance. The man whose leg he grabbed leapt backward, but Jax held on, trying to pull himself upright.
“HEY! Get your hands off me!” the man bellowed, shaking his leg and glaring at them. He felt in his pockets. “You were going for my wallet! Nice try, punk, but that’s not going to work on me. Someone call the cops! I didn’t think we’d have to deal with this kind of urban problem on Rock Island.”
The guy behind the desk looked young and scared. Jax vaguely recognized him from around town. “Rock Island doesn’t—” he started to say, but the older man ignored him.
“I’m using your phone. We need the cops in here!” he said. “Trust me. Best thing to do for these types of kids is to teach them a lesson.”
“No, really, you don’t—” Jax started to say, straightening up and taking a step forward, but the man interrupted him.
“Stay right where you are. Don’t move. Keep your hands where I can see them,” he growled, looming over Jax and Alex.
‘Sheldon, I—” Kark started to say, but the other man—Sheldon—cut him off. “I got this. We get a lot of this in Miami. Kids masquerading as innocents, sent out to pickpocket or commit other petty crimes. Let me handle it.” He shook his head, never taking his eyes off Jax and Alex. “First thing is to keep an eye on them until the police get here. Trust me, these people are usually working in groups.”
Jax stared. “Are you nuts? We’re just—”
“QUIET!” the man yelled, and Jax jumped. Alex put a hand on his arm.
“Just shut up,” she whispered. “He’s a freak show. Leave it.”
Jax did as she said. His face was burning, and he was glad the ball cap hid his eyes. He was trying not to cry. The man used the desk phone to make a call, staring at them the whole time.
“Now, we’ll see if we can get some answers,” Sheldon said after hanging up the phone. “They’re sending someone right down. You punks better just watch it. I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of tricks, but I’m warning you, don’t try them here.”
Kark shook his head. “This makes no sense.” He stared at them, and his eyes bugged.
“Are you…aren’t you one of the Fletcher kids?” he asked, his voice rising. “What the—? I keep seeing you everywhere! Are you following me? What’s going on here?”
“You know these kids?” Sheldon asked, his voice incredulous.
“Yes. He lives…well, it doesn’t matter.” Kark stared again. “And is that…” He trailed off, his face blanching slightly.
Alex, who had taken off her ball cap, gave a big, unfunny smile. “Alexandra Galindo at your service. Daughter of Natalia Galindo. We met at the library breakfast, remember? She’ll be SO happy you thought I was a gang member!”
At that moment a uniformed police officer walked into the office. Jax was relieved to see it was Thalia Levee, a part-time animal officer who knew Sir Puggleton, and the rest of the Fletchers.
“What seems to be the issue, gentlemen?” Officer Levee asked, her hand resting lightly on her nightstick.
Kark wiped the sweat from his forehead with a big white handkerchief. “It’s nothing, really. We were just…surprised by these youngsters, who burst in here rather unexpectedly. I don’t think it’s a police matter.”
Sheldon opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but Kark shot him a look.
Officer Levee gazed at Kark and Sheldon, then at the young clerk at the desk, who was staring at his hands, then at Jax and Alex. She held their gaze for a minute, until Jax looked down.
“Are either of your parents in town with you?” she asked.
Both Kark and Sheldon started talking at the same time. “There’s no need to involve their parents! It was just a misunderstanding,” they said, talking over each other.
Alex answered. “Jax’s dad and my mom are both here today. We can call them if you want.”
Officer Levee walked over to the phone and picked it up. “Numbers?” she asked.
Numbly, Jax answered.
They stood in silence in the office, waiting for Dad and Natalia to show up. Twice Sheldon started to talk, but Kark shushed him.
Finally, with a clatter, Dad and Natalia flew into the office.
“What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” Dad asked, sounding flustered. His hair was sticking up more than usual, and he was sweating. Jax ran to him and pressed against his side. No matter if he was in trouble, he was glad Dad was here.
Natalia, on the other hand, didn’t look frazzled. She looked mad.
“Everything is fine, I think,” Officer Levee said. “But I thought we should clear up a few things. Sir, would you like to share your concerns?” She gestured to Sheldon.
He looked hugely uncomfortable. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “They banged into the door and startled us, that’s all.”
“I believe you were concerned that we were pickpockets or some other criminals,” Alex said loudly. “Because our kind of people always are. Wasn’t that right?”
Kark cleared his throat. “He was…mistaken. Obviously. It was understandable—”
Natalia cut him off. “I’m sorry. Why was it understandable? Because when I look at them I see two dirty eleven-year-old kids, not criminals. But since they are not white, perhaps your associate saw something else?” She glared, and Kark winced.
“I…That has nothing…,” he babbled.
“Really? So if, say, two blond, blue-eyed children banged into the office door you would have assumed the same thing? That they were criminals? You would have called the police? You’re certain it has nothing to do with the fact that they’re a young black boy and a young Hispanic girl?” Her voice rose, and Officer Levee put a hand on her arm.
The clerk stared. “That’s a girl?” he asked, but everyone ignored him.
The Family Fletcher Takes Rock Island Page 12