by Diana Ryan
After we quickly swept and cleaned up the boat, we were ready for loading. I noticed Jack was whistling an upbeat tune. I don’t think I had ever heard Jack whistling before. We took our posts at the end of the dock and watched as a line of probably eighty-five elderly ladies was herded very slowly down the stairs. There was a younger woman, probably in her early thirties, with the group. She was clearly the ringleader, as she knew many of the ladies by name and escorted a few by herself down the stairs. Poor old Rob had to make multiple trips up and down the ramp pushing wheelchairs full of passengers. Following up the group was an overweight middle-aged man wearing navy blue head to toe—no doubt the bus driver.
We were in the best mood as the nice old ladies very carefully and slowly embarked onto the Bailey. I offered my hand many times to help some bridge the gap between the dock and the back deck of the boat. But as Jack and Rob were hoisting a wheelchair-bound passenger onto the boat, another lady wedged her bright white orthopedic shoes right in the gap between two of the stairs leading to the top deck. It took Jack and me many minutes to pry it free while she screeched, “Watch my bunions!” at us. Even so, I turned on the sweetness as I buttered up those old ladies, ready to graciously accept their dollar bills at the end of the tour.
Once the group had been loaded and all were successfully seated, the crew was ready to depart. As Jack pulled the boat away from the dock and turned our beauty around, he began to give the ladies a wonderful welcome. Before I knew it, someone yelled, “We can’t hear!” and pointed to her ears. I smiled, nodded and bent down to turn up the sound system hidden underneath the guide’s counter. When I popped back up, someone else yelled, “Where’s the bathroom?”
What? No raising of hands? No polite, “Excuse me ma’am?” This seemed to be a rare breed of OLS. They were going to make me work for their money.
So I did work really hard, giving interesting and clear commentary, singing perfectly on every note, using downtime to engage in small talk with the ladies in the front row, and doing personal favors like opening and closing windows upon their request. It was one of my best tours in quite a while.
Thirty minutes later we were headed back upriver, which meant it was time for me to pass out the guide books so the passengers could look at them and decide if they wanted to purchase one. As I was gliding through the rows, I looked up and noticed we were passing a Duck. It was my oldest friend, Ted. He saw my OLS and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I think I saw him mouth, “Yeah, baby!” I replied with a thumbs-up and an obnoxious smile of my own. Then he gave me the phone sign and mouthed, “Call me later.” I hadn’t talked to Ted for a few months. I guess it was about time.
I returned back to my station in the front of the boat next to Jack. Traditionally, the driver gave the sales pitch. The pitch was carefully designed to brainwash the passengers into buying a guidebook. The driver would explain how wonderful the guidebooks were by carefully pointing out certain pictures inside. He’d comment on how useful it was to have a postcard for each picture from your trip, and then, for the frosting on the cake, he would pour on a little guilt explaining that your wonderful tour guide made a small portion of the sales from these books. Purchasing a book would be a wonderful way to thank your guide for the excellent tour she has provided for you.
When Jack was done, I decided to press my luck a little more by turning on some relaxing music from my iPod. Floating upriver surrounded by amazing scenery and listening to a beautiful song was like magic. These old ladies wouldn’t know what hit them.
It was time to go collect my fortune. Jack said, “Good luck, kid,” and I gave him a nod and a playful punch on the shoulder. I quickly walked past the first few rows and sped all the way to the back row of the bottom deck. A little tour guide trick is to start selling from the back row and move to the front. That way, the tourists can’t see what others are doing. If you began in the front and the first few passengers decided to pass on the book, all the others seemed to think they would pass as well. And it would catch on like wildfire.
I leaned into the lady by the window in the back row, by putting on my sweetest tour guide voice and asking her if she’d like to purchase a book. She smiled at me and handed it back. No problem. I’ve never had one hundred percent of a boat buy. The next lady handed the book back to me as well, and then the next. And the next.
This was...interesting.
I continued through the rows. Old lady after old lady handed me their book back. I made it through the entire bottom deck without selling one single book. Impossible. I thought for a second that I should ask Jack to give the pitch again. Maybe these blue-hairs didn’t have their hearing aids turned on. During the tour I had made an effort to speak with the ladies up on the top deck; perhaps I should have made an effort down here too.
The ladies on the back deck handed me the books, complaining that they couldn’t hear me over the noise from the engines. I apologized and headed up the stairs to the top deck. The top deck, in general, was a pretty sweet ride. It was simply magical taking an open-air ride through the Dells with nothing to block your view. But as I should have guessed, row after row, the old ladies handed me their books back. Some said things like, “No thanks, but I really enjoyed your tour, young lady,” or, “Your singing was beautiful, honey, but no thanks.” I finished collecting the books and had not a single dollar in my hand.
What the hell?
I stormed through the top deck, down the stairs, opened the closet in the back where I kept the books, and threw them down haphazardly into the box. I was pissed. It felt as though row after row, each little old grandma stood up and smacked my cheek with as much force as her flabby arm could administer. A tear grew in my eye, and then I heard that sweet song still singing through the speakers. I left the closet, stormed up the aisle between all the empty-handed old ladies, slammed myself into my chair, and stopped my iPod mid-track.
“What the hell happened?” Jack loudly whispered at me.
“We got gotched.” My arms were folded across my chest, breathing heavily. I picked up my yellow notebook and scratched a zero in for the trip. I threw it back on the counter without a care and let the pen roll off and drop to the floor.
“No shit?” Jack was baffled. I could see it in his face. Then he muttered, “Impossible,” and hit the throttle. The faster we got back to the dock, the better.
After the gotch disaster, we hung our heads and headed up to the ticket booth looking for some jokes and funny stories from Suzanne. Brian was there, but no Suzanne.
“Hey, kids! So I heard your OLS gotched ya! That takes talent, seriously.”
Boy, news travels fast. But how did anybody know?
Brian turned his back to the ticket window and held up a hand for a high five. We both completely ignored him.
Jack slammed his hand down on the ticket counter. “Come on! We just got off the dock! Who told you?”
I wanted to yell, “Amen!” but kept it to myself.
“Easy, Captain Jack. Rob watched the whole lot walk by the dispatch booth empty-handed and took a wild guess. He immediately called me up front to check as they shuffled by with their walkers and wheelchairs. I confirmed, not a single tour book in any hands!” He let out a laugh, annoying to only Jack and me, and we turned to leave the booth in frustration. Suzanne arrived for work at that same moment and blocked the door to the booth.
“Well, if it isn’t the only crew ever to get gotched on an OLS!” There was that big, annoying laugh of hers again.
“Unbelievable,” Jack muttered. “Let’s get out of here, Ava.” Jack pushed his way past Suzanne as she set her briefcase on the counter and opened the till. I followed him out the door, and we both could hear Suzanne and Brian still laughing as we headed back toward the docks.
The Lower Dells docks were located at the busy intersection of Highways 12 and 16. The corner lot contained a large Mexican restaurant that wasn’t very tasty, a few shops with tourist junk (as Jack liked to call it), and an ice cream s
hop connected to the Last Chance. All of these were housed in two very long and awkwardly shaped buildings with siding painted in alternating barn red and sunflower yellow. If the intention was to attract visitors, they certainly did, but maybe not for the right reasons. In between those two oblong-shaped buildings was a courtyard of sorts with a seating area and planters. Tourists waiting for their boat to be loaded would lounge around here. It certainly did have a spectacular view of the Lower Dells docks and the Kilbourn hydroelectric power dam. Jack and I took a seat on a red bench and looked dejectedly out over the dock.
We sat in silence as I wondered where Nolan was. I knew he wasn’t at Lower One. I took a quick glance to the left of the waiting area over towards Lower Two. It was another triangle booth, much smaller than Lower One, located at the end of the Mexican restaurant. It normally opened later in the day than Lower One, and no one was in there yet. I let out a sharp sigh—I wanted to see his handsome face. I knew that was the only thing that could cheer me up.
I screamed as I felt a quick and intense pain behind my left ear.
“You okay?” Jack asked, startled by my outburst.
I rubbed the area with my palm, and the pain slowly subsided. “Yeah, I guess.” The pain diminished even more. “I’ve been getting these weird pains behind my eyes lately. I have no idea why.”
“Huh,” was all he could say. He stared off into the scene before us, breathing deeply. Neither of us had anything to say. I couldn’t imagine my day going any worse. I was glad it was almost over. Then I had an idea.
“You know what?” I asked as I pulled out my phone. “Now’s as good a time as any.” I opened up UWSP’s grade book and logged in.
“Good grief, you still haven’t done that?”
“Nope.” I clicked on the last semester and read the grades aloud. “Just as I suspected—two D’s, two F’s, and an A.”
“An A? Congrats!”
“In choir,” I explained.
“Holly hell. What a semester.”
“I’m screwed.”
We both took a deep breath and released it loudly. The silence continued a bit longer until a familiar system of alarms rang out in the distance, indicating one of the dam’s gates was being opened. We watched gallons upon gallons of water pour through the concrete opening. Sometimes, when many of the gates were opened, the force of the water would churn up the minerals in the river and mix them with air. Fluffy, brown foam would build up and collect around the docks to create a topping that looked not unlike the top of a glass of freshly poured root beer.
Perhaps the sight reminded him of the head on a beer. “You really oughta hit the bar with me tonight, kid.” He looked over at me with pleading eyes. I knew he was just looking for a friend.
Although I could see him from the corner of my eye, I didn’t shift my focus from the dam. “I’m nineteen years old, Jack.”
He looked back over the water. “Yeah, yeah, kid. I know.”
Chapter Eight
When I got home that day I tried to put my bad grades out of my head and went straight up to my room to call Ted. I took a seat on my bed and then lay back on the pillow.
Ted answered the phone exclaiming, “Well, if it isn’t good ol’ Ava! Long time no talk there, sweetie! How’s life treating ya?”
Ted was an adorably short, dark-haired, hilarious guy who rarely had a bad day and could make anyone laugh with a lift of one eyebrow. Although we tried to keep in touch when we went off to college, I hadn’t talked to Ted for a few months. We had been good friends since we played blocks together in preschool, and although he and Aaron were best friends in high school, I still remained friends with Ted even after Aaron and I broke up.
“Hey, you wanna go get some ice cream and catch up? I’m sure you’ve got a little extra cash in your pocket after that OLS I saw you with this morning.”
Oh God. Did he have to bring that up?
What I really wanted to do was call Nolan, but I knew I should remain loyal to my oldest friend and spend a little time catching up with him. After all, Ted was always good for a few chuckles. “Yeah, sure. That sounds great, Ted. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got a lot to tell me about your last semester in Milwaukee.”
After I hung up the phone, I stood up off the bed, threw on a pair of jeans and a worn-out Milwaukee Brewers T-shirt, and tied my hair back into a ponytail. Before I went downstairs to tell my parents I was heading out, I couldn’t resist taking a peek out the front window in my parents’ bedroom at Animal Island across the street. My heart dropped when I didn’t see a soul. I realized I wanted to see Nolan more than anything. Just one glance.
But as I was about to turn away, I noticed a shiny black car with dark windows pull up into the driveway of Animal Island and park. Two men wearing sunglasses and dark suits got out and casually looked around. They seemed terribly out of place, and I couldn’t imagine why they would be at the employee housing. I watched in awe for a few more moments as they walked around to the white, two-story house at the end of the lot and knocked on the door. My watch bumped the windowsill as I tried to get closer, and it reminded me that I had to get going if I was going to pick up Ted.
I hopped in the Olds and headed north on Capital Street. Ted’s family and my family both lived on the same street, only several blocks away from each other. The main drag, Broadway, cut Capital Street in half, and the strange thing was that on my side of Broadway all the street signs were spelled “Capital,” and on his side they were spelled “Capitol.” We both claimed our side was the correct spelling, but of course, neither way was ever proved to be right or wrong.
When I pulled up to his house, Ted popped out of the front door with his black and white cat, Mr. Kitty, prancing behind him. He turned around right before he got to his car and bellowed for Mr. Kitty to get back in the house. I leaned over the passenger side seat and yelled out the window, “Aw, come on! No cat for our ice cream run?” I laughed as Ted pulled open the door and then hopped into the passenger seat.
“Hey there, hot stuff! It’s so great to see you.” He leaned over and gave me a hug. My relationship with Ted had always remained platonic, although I thought for a while before I dated Aaron he might have wanted it to be more. I never felt that way about Ted and made sure he knew it. It actually was really nice to have a good guy friend. Sometimes I only wanted to get away from girl drama and have a friend who didn’t care about all that junk.
I parked the car in the Upper Dells parking lot, and we walked down the short hill to the Dairy Queen on Broadway. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before, but at the bottom of the hill, before the Dairy Queen, was a DBT ticket booth.
“So, can’t stay away, huh?” Nolan was leaning out the window with the biggest smile on his face. His eyelashes seemed to be waving me closer. Visions of Make Out Rock filled my head. Butterflies instantly fluttered in my stomach, and soon, the whole world around us seemed to fade to a blissful blur. It was only me and him alone at the ticket booth. I felt my cheeks become rosy, and I was at a loss for words.
I had forgotten Ted was there until he cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and brought the world zooming back into focus. I was about to introduce Ted when he said, “Hey, Nolan.”
Wait. “Hey, Nolan?”
“Oh, hey there, Ted. I see you got back on the river today. Lucky guy.”
They knew each other? How could this be possible?
“You two know each other?”
Ted jumped in, “Yeah, we met while I was driving the Ducks shuttle this morning.”
It was entirely plausible that they met here. I wondered if they talked about me. Then I realized there was a potential problem—Aaron had probably told Ted about Nolan interceding at my house. Ted probably hated Nolan already.
An awkward silence followed, so I said, “We were just about to get some ice cream at Dairy Queen. Can I get you something?”
Nolan politely declined, and mentioned that he would be working at Lower Two tomorrow, and th
at I should stop by between trips. He gave me a smile that I knew was only for me, and his calm, charming eyes tried to give me a message that made me blush even more. I wasn’t moving, so Ted grabbed my elbow and pulled me along. “Come on, Ava. See you later, man.”
“See you tomorrow.” I left the booth, but I could feel his eyes following me as I walked away.
When we got closer to the Dairy Queen window, Ted turned to me with a serious glare, and I knew I was in trouble. “Well, Ava, you have got a lot of explaining to do!”
I tried to play innocent. “What do you mean?” But I knew he could see right through me.
“I haven’t seen you with that look on your face since Aaron finally started paying attention to you junior year! You are in trouble. This guy’s got you all wrapped up already.”
I knew he was right, but was too proud to admit it.
“I hate to be the one in the middle, but Aaron told me he thought you two were getting back together. Well, until some dude came out of nowhere and took a swing at him.”
I looked down at the ground. “That dude was Nolan.”
“Seriously? I knew I was getting a bad vibe from him.”
“Hold on, you only have half the story. Aaron was practically forcing himself on me!”
“Really? I don’t know...”
Ted was simply being overprotective. I was, after all, one of his oldest friends, and he saw what happened to me after Aaron broke my heart. I was able to change the subject while we were eating our cones by asking lots of questions about his adventures going to college in Milwaukee. I also tried to avoid talking about my crappy year at Stevens Point by only vaguely answering his questions, but he wasn’t buying it. He could tell I was holding back, and I ended up spilling the beans about being somewhat depressed most of the year, and how my grades had suffered considerably.
“Dang! Two F’s and Two D’s?” He patted me on the back when all the color drained from my face. “Listen, Ava, you are a smart, determined woman with great plans for the future. You will figure this all out. You just have a little adjusting to do, and if I know you, you’ll find your place in time.”