Turtle Bay

by Tiffany King

  Evan tried to get my attention as he left, but I looked away. As far as I was concerned this whole mess was his fault. Him and his good time bullshit.

  Several other cases were called before mine. It was evident looking around the room whose parents had money because of the well-dressed attorneys sitting at their sides. The rest of us had to make do with the same public defender. I couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad thing. No one was receiving any jail time, but the community was on the verge of being well served because the judge was handing out community service hours like a game show host handing out prizes. By the time my case was finally called, I had a pretty good idea what I was in for.

  Maybe we were overdue for lunch or the judge was sick of listening to the same argument by all the attorneys, but by the time he was done hearing the facts of my case and reviewing my previous record, his face took on a stern expression I had yet to see with the others.

  "Young lady, do you understand the severity of your charges?" he asked, looking down at me over his glasses that were perched on the edge of his nose.

  "Yes, sir," I squeaked out, trying to ignore my traitorous knees that had picked that moment to start shaking.

  "This community—especially our beaches—should be treated with respect and care. I, for one, am sick and tired of footing the bill for the reckless behavior of those such as yourself. Not only are you wasting the resources of your own generation, but for future generations to come," he said sternly. "I've reviewed your file and it seems you have no regard for public or personal property. You destroy that which does not belong to you without any regard for the consequences. I don't know how you've managed to slide by without more severe punishment in the past, but I assure you that is about to change."

  I wanted to argue, to defend myself and tell the judge I wasn't the bad person he was making me out to be. In spite of what he had read in my file, there were circumstances that led to my behavior and the pranks I pulled. I turned behind me, looking to Buttercup for help, but I felt like I was on an island. As bad as I wanted to plead my case, my vocal chords refused to work. I stood in front of the judge in silence as he continued to berate me. By the time he was finished, he slammed me with three hundred hours of community service and a fine that thankfully was a fraction of what Evan had been given. My public defender squawked at his ruling, arguing the unfairness of my sentence since other defendants who were tried for harsher crimes had gotten away with lighter punishments. For whatever reason, maybe there were just cosmic forces working against me, the judge showed no remorse, informing her that sometimes examples had to be set. Let's face it, of all the cases from this incident this judge had listened to, I was by far the easiest to make an example of.

  The amount of community service hours was daunting, but I was relieved he didn't hit me with juvie time. At the time the judge was practically making me out to be the worst person to ever step foot in his courtroom, that's where I thought I was headed. Still, I couldn't help feeling bitter at the unfairness of the situation. It was Evan's freaking party and he walked away with nothing but a fine and a measly amount of community service hours that I wouldn't have been surprised if he never served.

  Buttercup put an arm around me as we left the courtroom, obviously distressed that the judge had been so harsh with me. Butch stuttered away, calling him a Marxist. "Don't worry, Rainbow. You'll get through the hours before you know it," he said, trying to encourage me. Instead, his words upset me as I once again thought about the reasons why I had a file for the judge to review in the first place.

  "For the hundredth time, it's Rain, and before you continue blaming the judge, maybe you should accept that this is your fault too," I said, slamming the van door behind me after climbing inside. I must have shocked them with my outburst because I heard them mumbling outside the door for a minute before they took their seats in the front of the van. They sat for a moment without turning around until Buttercup finally spoke up.

  "Sweetheart, I know you're a little stressed right now, but we've told you that actions come with consequences, just like back in Huntsville. This time it finally caught up with you, that's all."

  "You're right, Mom. Actions have consequences. I'm glad you mentioned that because guess who's been dealing with the consequences of your actions for years? Me, that's who!" Tears welled up in my eyes as four years of pent-up frustration began to pour out.

  "Now wait a minute," Butch piped in, looking uncharacteristically aggravated. "We weren't the ones who flooded the bathrooms in the grocery store or spray-painted signs all over town or released a bunch of chickens inside the bank. That was you, young lady."

  "Yeah, but did you ever ask yourself why I did those things? I didn't just wake up one day and decide to start pulling pranks, you know. It's because of you."

  "You keep saying that, but we don't understand," Buttercup said. "When did we encourage you to start this kind of destructive behavior?" I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was stressed over the sudden harmony imbalance between us. Buttercup coveted peace, and I had thrown our world out of whack.

  "Mom, we were the town freaks back home. You had to know that."

  "Oh, honey, it was never as bad as you're making it seem. So, we're different. It doesn't mean we're freaks."

  "Different would have been choosing not to shop at the same stores as everyone else, or eating the same food as everyone else, which we didn't. I'm cool with that. I can deal with different. But, Butch, you showed up at parent-teacher night one time with a jug of your homemade hooch to pass around the room. You remember that?"

  "Oh yeah. I always kind of wondered why no one wanted a swig," he chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

  "And Buttercup. You walked into town topless. Need I say more?" I said. "I mean, do you have any idea the amount of ridicule I've had to put up with because of stuff like that? I started pranking because I wanted people to stop talking about how weird you were."

  Even though for the most part Butch and Buttercup had always treated me like an adult, I had never admitted my true frustrations over our family's free-living lifestyle. As my parents, I never wanted to hurt their feelings, especially since I knew what a strained relationship Buttercup had with her side of the family. Butch held her hand to console her as Buttercup could no longer hold back her tears. I was sure she never expected her own daughter to shun her over her life the way her parents had. I didn't know what else to say. In a way, I wished I wouldn't have opened my mouth and instead just dealt with it the way I always had.

  Butch started up the van and we made the drive home in silence. I had no idea what kind of wedge I had built between us. My parents and I had fought in the past, but never anything this serious or this revealing. When we pulled into the driveway, Butch turned off the ignition and reached for the handle to leave before Buttercup stopped him. She turned around toward me with her eyes still wet from tears. "Rain, honey, I am so sorry."

  She reached for my hand and stroked it gently. "The only thing your father and I ever wanted was to raise you in an environment where you felt the freedom to express yourself. To have the confidence to be who you wanted to be. I never meant to do anything to cause you any harm or heartache. We love you so much." She climbed out of the van and opened the side door, grabbing me in her arms as I climbed out.

  "I love you too, Mom," I said, returning her embrace. "I'm sorry for everything I've done. I am a good person. I swear. I just wanted people to stop pointing and laughing at us." I began to cry with her as Butch walked around the van and wrapped his arms around us both.

  "You're perfect, sweetheart. Don't let anyone ever tell you different," Butch said.

  "Absolutely. Never feel like you have to apologize for us, honey. I promise we'll be more conscious about what we do from now on," Buttercup added, bookending my face in her hands.

  "Definitely," Butch added. "You have to admit though, if anyone could pull off walking around topless, it's your mom."

  "
Seriously, Butch?" I said as Buttercup slapped him on the arm.

  "What, too soon?" he joked.

  "Maybe a wee bit," I said, holding up my fingers an inch apart.

  Once we went inside, we sat in the living room and continued to talk, hashing out everything I'd been feeling the past few years. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. All I ever really wanted was for Butch and Buttercup to understand that it was a whole lot easier to be different in their world than in mine. As for the judge's ruling, it was obvious I would have to quit my job at Tasty Freeze. No way could I get through three hundred hours of community service and hold down a job, especially once school started. I was officially screwed.

  Dinner was a calmer affair since I had gotten everything out I wanted to say. The events of the day had taken their toll, and I was more anxious to escape to my room than anything. In the swoop of one event I had lost potential friends, my new job, and even worse, my dignity. After we finished eating, Buttercup and I were in the process of cleaning up the kitchen when someone knocked on the front door.

  "Farrah?" I said, surprised to see her on my porch. "How did you find me?"

  "Evan told me." She smiled tentatively, peeking cautiously over my shoulder.

  "You want to come in?" I asked, holding open the door.

  "I can't. I mean, I would, but I'm grounded. My mom said I could come over to see how it went with you today."

  "I got a butt-load of community service," I said, leaning on the doorframe. "What about you?"

  "A fine. My parents pulled some strings." She looked sorry, like she should apologize for having parents who had the means to get her out of trouble.

  "Well, the only strings I have are in my shoes," I said sarcastically.

  She looked at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry. It hardly seems fair."

  I shrugged. "Hey, it's not your fault. That's life, I guess. Money talks. Evan got off too."

  "Maybe with the judge, but his dad went nuts. He's forcing Evan to go back to New York with him. From what Leslie says, he's always been that way. Pretty much runs Evan's entire life like a tyrant. Talk about daddy issues to the max, huh?"

  "I guess," I said, digesting her news. Apparently we all had parental issues. Some worse than others.

  "Anyway, I better head home before my dad comes and drags me away. Maybe when I'm not grounded we can hang out? You know, without getting arrested."

  "Truth," I snickered. "I'll either be here or serving my debt to society."

  She grinned before heading down my driveway.

  "Who was that?" Buttercup asked, walking out of the kitchen.

  "Farrah. She got off with a fine like Evan."

  "That's just the way the world works, sweetie," she said, placing an arm around me and dragging me in for a quick hug. "How did she seem besides that?"

  "She was cool," I said, flashing my first smile of the day. Maybe I didn't lose all my potential friends.

  Chapter 6

  For the rest of the week I pretty much hung around the house, reading and entertaining Player. I did stop in to give Fred at the Tasty Freeze the bad news. He was cool about it, stating that if I wanted to try again next summer, he'd be willing to give me another shot. I also heard from my court advocate with the details of my community service sentence. Six-hour shifts per day for the next nine weeks over the summer and then weekends for the final thirty hours once school started.

  The following Monday I woke up early and dressed in an old pair of cutoffs and a T-shirt since I had no idea what kind of work I would be doing. Butch drove me to the address I had been given and promised to pick me up later that day.

  The nondescript building matched the color of the sand, which seemed fitting considering it sat right off the beach.

  "Good luck! Don't pick any fights with anyone bigger than you, and don't drop any soap in the shower," Butch joked, grinning at me.

  I rolled my eyes as I climbed out of the van. "You're hilarious. I'll try to hold my own."

  "Be careful," he said solemnly.

  I waited until he drove away to walk into the building. A blast of cool air hit me in the face when I opened the door. I stood for a moment, soaking in the air conditioning I didn't have in my room at home. Not that I would complain. I loved having my own space more than anything.

  "Do you need help, dear?" the receptionist asked from her desk that sat right inside the door.

  Stepping farther into the small waiting room, I handed over my court advocate paperwork that I held clutched in my hands. "I'm supposed to report here for my community service," I said, feeling slightly flushed. Not knowing how much of the details people would have on me made the experience more humiliating.

  The receptionist, who introduced herself as Vanessa, was nice enough. She had me sit for a few minutes while she figured out my assignment for the day.

  "Looks like we're going to have you do some beach cleanup today," Vanessa said. "You need to keep this paper with you and have whoever you're assigned with sign off on it every day. At the end of each week you hand it in to me and I will send it off to your court advocate so your time can be recorded," she said, handing me a sheet of paper. "Do you have any questions?"

  "I don't think so. I mean, where do I go?" I asked, folding the paper and sticking it in the pocket of my shorts.

  "You've been assigned to Larry today. Just wait here. He should be here any minute to pick you up."

  I nodded my head, sitting on one of the chairs to wait. My heart stuttered when someone wearing the familiar lifeguard shirt walked into the reception area. It took me less than a second to register it wasn't Josh. I knew when I was given my assignment that it was probably inevitable that I would run into him. Talk about the ultimate kick in the head. It was a sad twist of fate, but the punishment made sense, considering my arrest for destruction of public beach property. One thing was certain: When and if I did run into Josh, I would show him he meant nothing. Cute or not, he was still a narc.

  Larry arrived within minutes and turned out to be as nice as Vanessa. "Welcome to the Camden County Beach Safety and Ocean Rescue Agency. Or as I like to call it, the C.C.B.S.O.R.A." He laughed when he saw the confused look on my face. "I'm just kidding. Not about the name though. It is a mouthful. You'll get used to my humor, don't worry. I'm Larry," he said, holding out his hand.

  "Rain," I replied, reaching for his hand. Rather than shake in the traditional manner, he clasped my hand upright and placed his other hand over ours like we had made some sort of pact.

  "Rain? I can dig it," he said, nodding his head. "Let's go."

  Larry looked like a throwback to the surfer era of the Sixties with his long, choppy hairstyle and deep tan lines. He had to be in his early fifties if I had to guess, judging by the gray hair and wrinkles on his face, but you would never know it based on his physique. He had the build of a much younger man. He reminded me a lot of Butch, go figure. He was definitely as talkative as Butch and kept a running commentary throughout the day. I was relieved he didn't treat me like some sort of drill sergeant.

  Even though his job was more to babysit me for the day, Larry pitched in when he could and helped me pick up trash and debris off the beach. After only a few hours of work, I was completely disgusted by what we had collected. Seriously, did no one know how to use a trash can? As the morning wore on and the beach became more crowded, Larry had to work to maneuver the four-wheeler we were riding around sunbathers and small kids who would wait until the last possible second to cross in front of us. Larry handled it well by slowing our speed to a near crawl. I was just happy not to be working in the area near my house since I assumed Josh would likely be in that vicinity.

  "You did real good today," Larry said when my six-hour shift came to a close. He drove the four-wheeler along the wide sidewalk to take us back to the patrol office.

  "Thanks," I said, trying to work the kink out of my back from the constant bending over. "My back may not forgive me. I feel like a fifty-year-old ma
n," I teased.

  "Ha, until things start popping and creaking when you stretch you don't get to make that claim. You're a spring chicken."

  "I feel like a cooked chicken."

  He laughed. "You're out of shape, girl. We need to get you out on a board. A little wave time will get you all loosey-goosey before you know it."

  "Hard pass. The ocean made me its bitch already. I'm not looking for a repeat butt kicking."

  "That's the first step. It's all about respect. Now that she's made you feel inferior, you can serve her."

  I snorted. "You gonna start chanting?"

  "I just might," he laughed. "To me, there's no place better than right out there in those waves."

  "I better just stick to my community service."

  "How many hours you got?" he asked, pulling around to the back of the building.

  "Two hundred and ninety-four left to go," I answered, pulling out my sheet of paper from my back pocket so he could sign off.

  He let out a low whistle. "Damn, what'd you do, rob an ice cream stand?"

  "You got me," I lied. After spending the day picking up trash with Larry, I was mortified to admit what had really happened. "When I want a banana split I will go to whatever lengths necessary."

  "You and me both," he said, holding up his hand for us to shake in the same manner we had done when we met. He was in the process of filling out my time sheet when another ATV pulled in beside us. I didn't have to look to know it was Josh. I had a feeling, especially since with my luck lately, that of course I would run into him when I was hot and sticky and covered in sand.

  Larry called out a greeting to him, which Josh returned. I waited for him to offer up an apology, like "hey, I'm sorry I ratted out the party and got you in a heap of trouble and blew your new job and basically ruined your summer." Anything like that might have been appropriate, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence. He headed into the building without so much as a glance my way. I glared at him for good measure and would have stuck out my tongue at his retreating backside if it wasn't so immature, especially with Larry watching.