Carolina Booty

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Carolina Booty Page 25

by T. Lynn Ocean


  “You ain’t got to sell us on the idea, Jaxie,” Councilman Rusty said. “We’re all ready to go. We just want to know about the bowls! What’s up with Pop’s bowls?”

  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. I should have known they’d already heard about the bowls. “As you all apparently already know, Pop has some old bowls from China, which might be very valuable to a collector. We’re waiting on someone to contact us, but we should know in the next few days what they’re worth, or if they’re worth anything at all. If they are, Pop wants to donate the money from selling them to the revitalization effort.”

  A collective cheer went up as people clapped and yelled their thanks to Pop. He stood and, moved, cleared his throat a few times. “Those bowls were a gift from Emerald Eye to his sweetheart, Aldora. And I can’t think of any better way to put them to good use.”

  I didn’t want to dampen their spirit, but when the applause died down, I spoke up. “Keep in mind we don’t know if they’re authentic, or even how much money they’ll bring if they are. But, look. We can implement a plan with or without a cash reserve. We might get a grant to build a museum and Shine is here to do your marketing plan. With participation in opening bed and breakfasts, and shops and such, it’ll work!”

  “Oh, we’re all ready to participate, we’re all ready,” Billy informed me. “Sure would be easier to do with the cash reserve, though! I mean, I’m a descendant of pirates, too. And us pirates, we typically aren’t all that patient.”

  “You’re a pirate, too? How do you know that?”

  “Oh, I’ve got an old cutlass been in the family forever. Forever. Got some initials carved in it. My daddy told me a story, from his great-great-granddaddy about his granddaddy, who settled here after they tried to hang him but he got away. He was a pirate.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “What’s a cutlass?”

  “A little short sword. Got a wide blade. Buccaneers liked to fight with them, because they didn’t get caught in the rigging.”

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me this when I searched for information on Rumton’s past? I even put an ad in your newsletter!”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t much like you, then.”

  It was a good thing I had thick skin. In the PR business, you had to, or you didn’t survive.

  “Don’t worry, Sugar,” Gertrude shouted. “We all love you now!”

  Amazed and enlightened, I made notes of everyone’s ideas as they came pouring from the audience. There were quite a few pirates in the crowd, it seemed, and they were right proud of it.

  “Heck,” somebody said. “We’re all pirates in spirit!”

  Justin suggested forming a revitalization committee that would oversee the entire effort, handle funds, work directly with Shine, and report to the council. Within minutes, people were nominated and voted in by a show of hands. Eleven people made up the committee, including Pop, Billy, Gladys, a retired banker and a retired attorney. The sleepy, uneventful town of Rumton had simply come alive and people who were previously content with their status quo were now ready to make things happen.

  When the meeting concluded, my list of notes was long, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Elwood had decided to open a shop and sell his carvings. Bull planned to change the name of Chat ‘N Chew to Booty’s, and figured it was time to go ahead and print up a menu with entrees like First Mate’s Meatloaf, Cannonball Chicken, and Galley Greens. Getting in the spirit, Walter announced that Duckies was now called the Captain’s Quarters, or it would be as soon as he got a chance to paint over the sign. In addition to Millie and Pop, three other people planned to open bed and breakfasts. Gladys proudly announced her granddaughter had just graduated from medical school, and would follow in her footsteps by opening a family practice in Rumton. Millie decided to call her bakery Rum Runners, and everything she made would have a splash of rum in it. Startling everyone, the judge announced that he decided to open up a little chapel to perform weddings. People could get married just like they did in Vegas, he said. Only his chapel would be done pirate style and he’d wear a ship captain’s attire rather than a robe. Before the meeting adjourned, the people unanimously decided to change the name of their town back to Rum Towne.

  Epilogue

  Not only were the bowls genuine Ding ware, but they had an intriguing provenance, which was the story behind them. When the anonymous art collector’s representative saw the original poem written by Emerald Eye to his love, Aldora, he’d licked his lips as though the background information made the bowls that much more appealing. Remembering how he’d originally offered an even one million dollars for the pair, I smiled. As Pop had contemplated the offer, I caught his green eye and reminded him that Flush was really going to miss eating out of his Ding ware. Agreeing with me, Pop held out until the man upped his offer to one-point-eight million. After buying Flush a new set of elevated, personalized food bowls, we celebrated at Duckies and toasted to the dog, who had his own chair at our table. The next day, nobody was surprised to see that Flush was perfectly content to eat out of his ten dollar food bowls.

  It had been exactly nine months since I’d first stepped foot in Rum Towne. With the help of Pop’s bowl money and the unrelenting spirit of the townspeople, Shine Advertising & PR accomplished a feat that changed lives forever.

  Propped on a swiveling captain’s chair at the bar of Captain’s Quarters, I drank a spiced rum and orange juice with soda while I read the Wall Street Journal. In the marketing section, an article on Rum Towne included a rendition of Emerald Eye, along with a photo of Bandit perched on Pop’s shoulder. Even better, it referenced Shine Advertising and Public Relations three times.

  Keeping an eye out for Justin and watching visitors stroll in and out of Rum Runner’s Bakery across the street, I read the story a third and a fourth time. The staff writer played up the fact that the entire population lived in character, and tourists ate it up. The bed and breakfasts stayed booked, and the judge had already married twenty-one couples, or as we called it in Rum Towne, made them “walk the wedding plank”. The downtown district had come back to life with five retail shops and the promise of more, a medical practice opened by Gladys and Elwood’s granddaughter, a bank, a pirate’s tavern and the much anticipated museum, currently under construction. Surprisingly, the writer noted, one of the most popular activities in Rum Towne was watching the judge hold court at the movie house. The water tower decorating festivals, which took place the first weekend of each month, were a close second. If there wasn’t a scheduled holiday that month, Rum Towne made one up. After all, he noted, pirates never needed an excuse to celebrate. He also interviewed both the new town doctor, as well as the first young couple to move to town in more than thirty years, which I thought was a perfect addition to the story. A councilman’s granddaughter was pregnant with her first child, and the family decided Rum Towne would be the perfect place to raise children. Her husband was a boat captain and planned to offer sightseeing tours along the waterway on a pontoon boat, in addition to chartered deep sea excursions on his fishing boat. The baby would have no shortage of doting godparents, the journalist wrote, as every resident in town tracked the girl’s pregnancy with genuine excitement. She’d already received enough baby gifts to accommodate five children.

  Thinking of the carefully orchestrated marketing campaign, I had to wonder if the successful revitalization was due to our PR efforts, or the fact that the town held magic. Everyone who visited promised to return, and more importantly, tell their friends.

  “How many times are you going to read that thing?” Justin asked, sliding into a captain’s chair barstool beside me.

  I kissed him full on the mouth in greeting, but kept my eyes open. I couldn’t get enough of his green eye. I just loved looking at it, especially since it was no longer obscured by ugly glasses. “I don’t have a photographic memory like you do.”

  We’d come to town to watch the ribbon cutting ceremony for the small marina and, as always, stayed at Pop’s house. I stil
l enjoyed working in the city, but I’d come to feel as though Rum Towne was home.

  Looking through the window, I saw Pop and Millie emerge from her bakery, holding hands and laughing. They walked over to meet us for lunch and the four of us settled in at a table. We ordered a Privateer’s Pizza to share, and a pitcher of sweet grog, which was half tea and half Pepsi, served over crushed ice.

  “Me and the mayor are getting hitched,” Millie announced without preamble, waving her ring finger in our direction. It held a huge diamond. “Gonna let the judge do it at the Caribbean Chapel.”

  Despite the fact that Pop was living in sin with his girlfriend, the town unanimously elected him as their new mayor. Everyone wrote him in on their ballots. Afterward, they had to persuade him to take the position, but once Pop thought about it, he figured he might enjoy leading the town. Especially since the entire community had taken an active interest in revitalizing it. And now Rum Towne would have an official first lady. It was exciting news.

  “Congratulations, you two! When’s the date?” I said.

  “Tonight,” Pop answered. “Can you make it?”

  Justin took my hand. “Wouldn’t miss it. In fact, it’s perfect timing. We were going to give you this as a thank-you for all you’ve done, but we’ll make it a wedding gift instead.” He slid a small wooden box across the table.

  Pop opened it. “Looks like the key to my Cape Dory.”

  I smiled. “It is.”

  “Only now, she’s docked in the very first slip to be sold at the new marina,” Justin said. “One with your name on it.”

  “Not only that,” I added, “but she’s got a brand new motor and her refrigerator is stocked with your favorite beer.”

  Pop eyes showed real surprise and he remained speechless for a minute. “Two of you are something else. I love you both.”

  “We love you, too, Pop,” I said. “You’re the best. By the way, where are you going for your honeymoon?”

  “Got us a private jet rented for three weeks,” Pop said, and my mouth fell open. “Fella bought the bowls called to ask if ‘twas true that my dog ate out of them. Wanted to know if I had any more Ding ware lying around, perhaps in use as a kitty litter box or some such.”

  Nodding, Millie fluffed her hair. She positively glowed. “As it turned out, he owns a fleet of Lear jets. When you rent one, the pilot comes with it and you just tell him where you want to go.” She waved a hand, like she flew private jets every day. “Way better than flying commercial.”

  “Aye. We’re going to island hop ‘round the Caribbean. Bunker down at some fancy resorts along the way.”

  I shut my mouth to swallow and opened it again to speak. “Island hopping on a private jet?” Pop had given every dime of the one-point-eight million dollars to the newly-formed foundation, to benefit the town. And while he and Millie lived comfortably, he still wore the same old clothes and drove the same old truck and watched the same old television. Where had they gotten the money for a Lear jet and a three-week honeymoon?

  He met my questioning look. “You didn’t think the coin Bandit found at Devil’s Tail was the only one out there, did you, Lass?”

  THE END

 

 

 


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