"Yes!" Judy says emphatically. "This is Spirit Week! Only the strong survive!"
I smile at her.
"Do you have anything so far?" I ask.
"Emma had like eight forks, but they were all the exact same size. That's not going to get us an extra week of vacation."
"So, why are you here?" I ask.
She leans forward to pop her head into the house and look around like she's scoping out my covert stash.
"Emma tells me you're loaded. Rich people have weird stuff. You got any good cutlery?"
"Come on in," I say. "I'll see what I can find." Something about the list strikes me as I carry it through the living room and into the dining room. "Wait a minute," I say. I flip the list over and look for the almost imperceptible watermark in the bottom corner. There it is. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I dial it, and hold it between my shoulder and my ear as I rummage through the wide, shallow drawers in the china cabinet. The phone clicks, and I speak before I even hear a greeting. "Preston, what the hell are you doing making scavenger hunt lists?"
"Hi, Grant. Nice to hear from you, too. Mrs. Burke called. She asked me to put together a scavenger hunt list for her teachers. I said she could just take it out of the payment she's giving you, so you owe me some money when that fee comes in."
I sigh, ending the call and tucking my phone back into my pocket. My hands full of silverware, I head back into the living room.
"What have you got?" Judy asks.
"I have to apologize for the ridiculousness of the scavenger hunt. Preston made it. He's too smart for his own damn good and ends up doing shit like this. There's probably some deep meaning in all of the different items."
"Next time you talk to him, tell him I admire his creativity, and want to shove a monocle up his nose. Now, fork me."
"Excuse me?"
Emma comes into the room, looking questioningly between Judy and me.
"Fork," I explain. "She said fork."
"Judy, why is it every time I look away, you disappear, and I find you over here?"
Judy is unmoved by Emma’s sudden appearance. Her eyes snap back to me.
"What've you got, Rich Boy?" Judy asks.
I look at Emma, but she only shrugs, and I turn back to Judy. "Alright, I've got an assortment for you here. I don't know if you get even more bonus points for having beyond the twelve they ask for, but I brought you fourteen, distributed among meat, grill, salad, shrimp, and dessert varieties. I'm also throwing in one 'tuning' just for good measure"
I slip the forks into a fabric case and drop the whole thing into Judy's backpack. She immediately grabs the list from my hand, and rushes toward the door.
"I told you she's determined," Emma says.
I nod.
"You weren't wrong."
"I'm kind of afraid to see what she would be like at a Spirit Week for a school she actually went to."
"Maybe that's the actual reason she moved to Magnolia Falls," I say. "Not to take care of her great-grandmother. It's to escape the shame of not winning a Homecoming obstacle course."
She chuckles, and the bubbly, happy sound rolls over me like water. It's been so long since I've heard her really laugh, I had forgotten how amazing it is.
Our eyes meet, and I can feel a flicker of heat flare between us, but there's still a barrier, a sense of reluctance, that we haven't been able to break through. We both look at the door when we hear Judy shouting for her, and she glances back at me.
"Judy told me about the reward for winning. That's an impressive prize."
Emma nods.
"I think they came up with it as a way to make the substitutes happy. They don't get many hours, apparently. Especially if cold and flu season isn't too serious. Bringing in a substitute during a time when the regular teachers usually have nothing planned is an easy way to give them a few more days of earnings for the year. The Substitute Teacher's Guild won’t complain about not getting enough work for their members, and the school builds morale in its regular staff."
"I’m not sure Judy needs any more morale," I say.
Emma laughs, then looks into my eyes again.
"Thanks for the forks," she says. "We'll bring them back when the scavenger hunt is done."
"Sure," I say, and watch her walk out of the house.
An hour later, Judy is back in my living room, and I'm handing over one of the teacups from Alma Mae's tea set. I'd like to think she would be delighted to know it was being used in a scavenger hunt. Judy rushes out of the house just like before, but Emma hangs back.
"Thanks again," she says. "I'll try to stop her from coming back."
"It's fine. I'm glad I can help. What else have you found?" I ask.
"The scary movies. Judy insisted on A Study in Terror."
"Was Judy Garland in that?"
Emma shakes her head.
"Nope. Judi Dench before she was Dame. She insists that's who she's named after."
"But she doesn't spell it that way."
"We've been through this. She says her mother wanted Dench but didn't like the 'i.' I tried to get her to choose The Wizard of Oz, but she wouldn't go for it."
"That's because The Wizard of Oz isn't a scary movie," I say.
"No, that's because she wasn't named after Judy Garland, she was named after Judi Dench. And that movie is terrifying."
"Is that it?"
"Mom's making me some quilt squares, and in a purely serendipitous moment, earlier today I found a collection of novelty socks I wore in high school. I never matched them then, and that all came together today."
"It sounds like you're off to a good start," I say. "Make sure to follow the list exactly. No more, no less.”
Emma looks at me quizzically.
"Why would you say that?"
"Preston made up the list. His guilty pleasure is watching reruns of Supermarket Sweep."
She starts to walk away, then looks back at me.
"Want to come with us?" she asks, biting her bottom lip nervously.
"Sure. Give me a second, and I'll be right out."
Emma leaves while I put on my shoes. When I walk outside, Emma and Judy are both standing in the yard wearing headlamps. Emma offers me a small smile as I join them, but Judy is too busy scrutinizing the list.
"Got the mix tape. Lying about my age for better music," she murmurs to herself. "Got the monocle. No rules say it has to be real. Cut that sucker right off Mr. Peanut. I don't know what we're going to do about the small Christmas tree. Maybe there’s one in Gram’s basement?"
Her enthusiasm for the hunt is adorable, and I feel myself getting wrapped up in it as Emma flips her headlamp on, and goes over the remaining items one more time. I wonder if we’re the only team taking this hunt seriously, but right now, it doesn't matter. We could be the only ones hunting at all, and I would still go along with it for a chance to be near Emma, and see her smile.
Thursday
"Again, with the tuna fish," I say as I take a seat at the cafeteria table next to Emma, one stool closer than last week.
Emma looks down at the round scoop of celery-studded tuna she just plopped down into a bed of lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers.
"What is your problem with tuna?" she asks as she picks up rings of green peppers from the side of the plate, placing them on top of the odorous fish.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. It's gross."
"And what about you and your cardboard-slathered-in-goo masquerading as pizza?"
I gesture toward my tray.
"Ah, but I don't have pizza today. I'm shaking things up."
She looks at the plate of hard corn shells, ground beef, sprinkled cheese, and shredded lettuce.
"A little D.I.Y. project for your midday meal?" she asks.
"Completely custom," I say.
"Why are you here at all? The teachers are the only ones required to eat among the natives. You don't have to."
"Technically, we're the natives," I point out. "I
don't know. It's kind of fun."
And it lets me spend time with you.
"Last night was fun, too," Emma says.
I nod.
"It was. Thanks for letting me tag along. Congratulations on your big win. I saw the banner out front."
"Why, thank you," she says with a playful flip of her hair. "They did say our collection was particularly impressive.”
"So, what are you going to do with your extra week of vacation?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says. "Probably just hang out at the house, spend some time with Mom. Maybe sing some carols."
"And eat pumpkin pie?"
She smiles at me.
Judy steps up to the table with a wide grin on her face. I notice her school spirit makeup is getting closer to maximum saturation. A few more sparkles, and she would be in full face paint. I also notice Miss Angelique has added in even more purple curls. I wonder if the school knows they aren't clip-ins, or if Judy has a plan for two days from now when Spirit Week is over.
"Taco Thursday!" she trills happily. She uses a spork to scoop the fillings into one of her shells, and takes a bite. "What are you wearing tomorrow night?" she asks Emma.
"I don't know," Emma says. "I haven't been able to think of anything."
"What's tomorrow night?" I ask.
"The final mandatory teacher event of the week," Emma says. "A party."
"A costume party," Judy says.
"I guess they figure it's close enough to Halloween they can plan one event to cover both occasions," Emma says.
"I have my costume picked out," Judy says. "But I'm not telling anyone. I want to see if anyone can figure it out."
"Well, I look forward to seeing pictures," I say.
"Why don't you come?" Judy asks. "You helped us with the pumpkin pie contest, and the scavenger hunt. You're here all the time. You're practically faculty. You should come celebrate."
My eyes slide over to Emma, and I see her watching me, waiting for my response.
"Maybe I will."
Friday
The party is already in full swing by the time I get to the school Friday night. It had been harder to come up with a last-minute costume than I originally expected, but thinking about my earlier conversation with Emma finally gave me an idea. Set up in the gym so it doesn't interfere with the preparations for the Homecoming dance, the party seems to have been the beneficiary of Judy's new-found love of crepe paper. Coils of purple and green streamers are exploding out of the doors of the gym and spilling across the floor. Each time the doors open to let costumed partygoers in or out, the muffled beats of music come out more clearly. From the inconsistencies between the songs, I wonder if the soundtrack for the party came directly from the mixtapes turned in during the scavenger hunt.
I've gotten several strange looks by the time I get to the gym, and I don't know if it's because the teachers recognize that I'm not one of their own or if my costume is what’s throwing them off. Once inside, I look around for Judy and Emma, but don't see either. Instead, my eyes lock on Mrs. Burke standing at the edge of the dance floor, trying with all of the enthusiasm she can muster to follow along with the complicated group line dance that has broken out on the floor. She's wearing her witch costume, just as I knew she would.
Mrs. Burke seems to notice me out of the corner of her eye as I approach, and she turns to me with a bright smile. Her long, gold-flecked false eyelashes make me think Judy got ahold of her before the party.
"Grant!" she exclaims. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"I hope you don't mind," I say. "Judy and Emma mentioned the party, and it sounded like fun. I thought I'd join in."
"Of course, I don't mind," she says. "With everything you're doing for me, and for Mr. Bernheimer, you’re always welcome. You're practically a member of the faculty, anyway. And, maybe you and Emma…"
I shake my head to stop her before she finishes the thought.
"No," I say. "There is no me and Emma. We are working well on the project together, though. I appreciate you recommending having her help me out."
"I thought it might be a good pairing," she says. "I remember the two of you very well from when you were in school."
"We were only in school at the same time together for one year," I point out. "And we never spent any time together. You might be thinking about my brother Dean. "
Mrs. Burke shakes her head.
"No," she says. "That’s not it. I do remember Emma and your brother Dean spending a lot of time together working on projects for the drama department. They did some good work together. If I remember correctly, they designed a float for the Homecoming parade his senior year that has not been rivaled to this day. But they were friends. You could see it. They cared about each other, and they enjoyed being around each other, but it wasn't there."
"What wasn't there?" I ask.
"That connection," she says. "They didn't have it. But you," she says with a slight, knowing nod, "you looked at her differently. You two may not have spent much time together, but it was there."
"We were just teenagers," I say. "When we went to school together, she was just a freshman."
"I know," Mrs. Burke says. "But when you came to the plays and she didn't know you were there, or she sat up in the stands and watched you play, and you wouldn't have been able to see her face in the crowd, your faces lit up like you knew each other’s souls.”
"We did know each other, though. Like I said, she and Dean were close. She was at my house all the time."
"No, Grant. Not that you knew of each other. That you knew each other. That your heart knew her heart. I really thought the two of you would have made it official by now, to be honest."
She finally turns her attention away from me, and it's a relief not to be scrutinized under her gaze anymore. She looks out over the dance floor, and points.
"There's Judy," she says. "I'm sure glad that girl moved to Magnolia Falls. I don't usually say that, but she really has brought a new life to the island."
"She's definitely something," I say.
As if she's heard us talking about her, Judy looks up, notices me, and waves. Not losing even a beat of her dancing, she makes her way over to us. As she approaches, I get a full view of her costume. She seems to be wearing a purple sweatsuit that clings close to her ample figure. Green plastic vines wrap around one leg, her hips and waist, and up over her shoulders and down the opposite arm. Long, sharply pointed fake nails are painted black at the tips of her fingers, and she's traded all of the sparkle and glitter on her face for heavy dark eye makeup, long fake lashes, and black lipstick. She pauses a few feet away from me, turning slowly to display the entire outfit.
"I see your school spirit is still going strong," I say.
She looks down, then back up at me.
"No," she says. "Just a lucky coincidence. Here. Smell me. Maybe it'll help."
I've gotten a lot of requests, and some of them have been strange, and some of them have been downright inappropriate, but in all of my years, I don't know if I've ever been asked to smell someone. I oblige her by leaning forward and taking a quick sniff. I immediately detect a hint of something sweet and familiar. "Grape?" I ask.
Judy nods enthusiastically, smiling and nearly shaking with excitement like a small child who just can't contain the thrill of a surprise.
"Exactly! You were actually pretty close before. Can you figure it out?"
I think back to my initial guess, trying to connect it to the smell of grape. Finally, I give up.
"I don't know, Judy. What are you?"
"I'm a grape of wrath!"
We both laugh, and as she settles down, she looks me up and down to evaluate my costume. I managed to find an awkward pair of navy pants, and secured my belt with a large cattle-themed belt buckle. I added a short-sleeve button-up shirt, and topped off the look with a visor emblazoned with a large star, and a headset radio. The final touch for the costume is a plastic name tag I picked up from the engraver on my way
back to the island this evening.
"I don't get it," Judy says. "You look like you work at a fast food restaurant."
"No," I say. I tap the headset. "I look like I run a fast food restaurant. But only during December."
She continues to look at me with a confused expression, and I indicate the name tag.
"Maybe this will help," I tell her.
"Wayon A.," she reads. "Manger. You spelled manager wrong."
I shake my head.
"No, I didn't."
I hum a few bars of the Christmas carol, and Judy's expression softens in the way it does when a person hears something familiar and nostalgic. She hums with me for a few seconds, then sings softly.
"Away in a…" Judy stops singing and nods approvingly. "That's amazing," she says. She laughs, then abruptly stops. "Wait. Did you and Emma talk about your costumes? That's not fair. I feel left out."
I look at her strangely.
"What do you mean? I haven't talked to Emma today."
Judy looks surprised.
"Really?" she asks.
"Really. I was actually going to ask you if she's here."
"She is," Judy says. She turns and looks around the room for a few seconds, before pointing toward the refreshment tables.
"She's over there trying to decide if she's brave enough to eat the worms and dirt."
Mrs. Burke has already lost interest in me and drifted over toward the bar, so I follow Judy as she guides me through the people on the dance floor. As we get closer, I see Emma is wearing a pale blue hooded cape. When she turns around my stomach clenches, and my mouth waters. Under the blue cape, she's wearing a short, fitted red dress. The hood slips away, revealing a red fascinator with a little green stem poised on the side of her head. Thick black lashes make her sapphire eyes pop, and a coat of red lipstick makes her mouth look luscious enough to eat. I wonder if she's scented, too. What I would do to find out…
"Emma, look," Judy says, snapping me out of my daydream. "Look at what Grant came as…"
Emma's eyes widen slightly as she figures out my costume.
"What are you?" I ask.
"The Virgin Berry."
"Next time you do this," Judy says. "I want in on it. We need to find somebody to be a little bag of Cheez-Its. Then somebody to be myrrh. Think of something that goes with myrrh. Myrrh...ose? Myrrh...ality clause? Oh, who the hell cares, I'm going as gold!"
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