Saltwater Secrets

by Cindy Callaghan

  I said, “I miss Water Ice World, personally.”

  “Oh, that was all sugar.” Angie pointed a blue-polished fingernail at us; her lanyard jingled when she moved. “You guys should really incorporate these into your beach diet. You’ll go back to school in the fall refreshed and radiant.” She sipped again. “Sadly, Josie, I don’t think Australia is in Mrs. Gardiner’s expansion plans. But,” she said to Stella, “New York is for sure.”

  “Expansion?” Stella asked.

  “Yeah. If you become friends with Mrs. Gardiner, she might be able to hook you up with a job there,” Angie said. “Business is booming. She wants to open more stores as fast as she can. She’s got the investment and everything. Now she just needs to make it happen. I’m going to help her open the Bergen County store when the Water Sport Adventure season is over.”

  “Well, this store is hiring,” I said.

  “Don’t I know it, but I can earn more tips at a store inland that’s busy all year round.” She flipped her wrist, accoutrements clanking together, and looked at her watch. “I gotta go.”

  “Okay. Catch you later,” I said.

  “Oh, I love that accent, Josie,” Angie said.

  “Hey,” Stella jumped in. “Maybe we can check out the new bungee later tonight. You know, when you’re done with your other thing, the moonlighting?”

  “Looks fun. You totally should. Invite my brother. He’ll hate it; he’s so afraid of heights. And get a pic—I’ll totally post one of him freaking out. Try to get him to puke, please. I’d love that,” Angie said, and walked away with the sound effects of her embellishments banging together.

  “You wanna bungee tonight?” Stella asked me, like I wouldn’t notice that she’d really wanted Angie to go, and Angie had blown her off.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Again, we made our way through the vacationers burning calories before the midday heat set in.

  Folks exercised to a backdrop of organ music from the merry-go-round. Midway workers hosed last night’s crumbs off the boards and into the water. I kept thinking about what Angie’d said. “How do you think Angie knows so much about the Smoothie Factory’s expansion plans?”

  “Sounds like she knows Mrs. Gardiner,” Stella said while reading a text.

  “She already has a job lined up at a store that hasn’t even opened. How’d she manage that?” I asked. “Do you think maybe she’s mates with that girl Lydia or someone else that works there?”

  “Maybe,” Stella said, again not really paying attention to me, instead focusing on her phone. “That would make sense.” Things were quiet for a bit while she texted. When she was done, she looked up and asked, “Ready for the bungalow?”

  Thirty-Five Josie

  Mr. Rodney’s Bungalow

  June 23 (Continued)

  Mr. Rodney’s bungalow wasn’t much to look at. I’d imagined a bungalow made of bamboo and a thatched roof, like the type of hut you’d find on a Caribbean island nestled under a palm tree. But this was a small, one-story, one-bedroom house that was chockers of stuff needing attention: peeling paint, duct tape over a broken window, and weeds that had assumed control of the driveway that had once been ruled by gravel.

  We went to the door, and I mentally added a broken doorbell to the list of needed repairs.

  After a few rounds of knocking and calling inside through the cracked window, we decided Mr. Rodney wasn’t home, or he was too asleep to hear us, or he just didn’t want to answer the door.

  “At home, grommets like to catch the waves early,” I suggested. (Grommets are Aussie surfers.)

  “Yeah. He’s probably in the water,” Stella agreed without looking up from her phone. She hadn’t stopped texting since we’d left Angie.

  “Stella?”

  “What?” she asked with her eyes still down.

  “Stella, can you put that down? We’re doing something here.”

  Her arm dropped to her side with drama, followed by a sigh. “I’m making plans for tonight,” she said.

  “I don’t care. It’s super rude when you text like that when you’re with someone. I mean, we’re having a convo.”

  “Fine,” she snapped, because “fine” usually ends an argument, right? “Well, we do have plans now.”

  Oh great, probably another bonfire where she could wear some more of TJ’s clothes.

  “Bungee,” she said.

  “Is it like a date for you and TJ? Because I don’t want to go on your date.”

  She tilted her head and smiled. “No, not like a date. All three Ts will be there, and Dario.” She added, “Dario’s not jumping.”

  I didn’t answer, but my anger eased a little when I heard that Timmy would be there. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was happy that she’d probably arranged that for me.

  Thirty-Six Josie

  Boardwalk

  June 23 (Continued)

  Stella pulled some bangs out of my ponytail while we waited at the end of the pier.

  “It’s fine the way it is,” I said.

  “A little side bang is so in.”

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  “I don’t get that,” Stella said with just a hint of anger, like she was frustrated that I wasn’t more excited to look better, different, older.

  “Why can’t you let me look the way I look? You know, I don’t look bad,” I told her.

  “Are you kidding? I didn’t say you look bad. I think you’re crazy pretty. I would kill for blond hair and your legs.… I understand why you run. They’re great!”

  “Then why all this fuss over fixing me?”

  “I just think you look like you don’t care how you look, and you should.” Stella added, “Maybe show it off a little.”

  The Three Ts arrived right on time. “Show what off?” TJ asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said. “Just girl talk.”

  Tucker stood in the background behind TJ and Timmy. “I’m getting a funnel cake. Anyone want one?”

  Timmy said to him, “Tuck, we have a workout in the morning.”

  Tucker said, “Duh. That’s why I’m carb loading tonight.”

  “You carb loaded at lunch with pizza,” TJ reminded him.

  “Look, you prep for workouts your way, and I’ll do it my way.” To us he asked, “Funnel cake?”

  “Well, I live for funnel cake,” I said. I started digging a five-dollar bill out of my pocket.

  Timmy whipped out a ten and gave it to Tucker. “I’ve got hers covered.”

  I don’t think anyone else noticed, but I did—Timmy just bought me a funnel cake. A guy had never bought me anything before. Dario joined us, a little late to the party. “You got me covered, bro?” He laughed at himself like he’d made a joke, patted Tucker on the back, and said, “Just kidding. I’ll go with you. I’m starving.” As they walked away, Dario asked Tucker, “You have any idea how many refrigerator magnets I sold today? Have you ever met someone who says, ‘Hey, while you’re on vacation, can you pick up a magnet for me?’ ” Without letting Tucker answer, he said, “Me neither. And don’t even get me started on snow globes. The thing about snow globes is this…”

  I loved having these discussions with Dario, but I wasn’t sure how Nifty Gifty topics were gonna go over with Tucker, who preferred talking about muscles and meat. I caught Stella making a slight eye roll.

  TJ said, “Tuck’s in for an earful, I think.”

  Timmy said, “Tuck hates heights, so I think we’re safe to get in line without him. Should we wait for Dario?”

  “He’ll be sitting this out too,” Stella said.

  Timmy asked me, “You ready for this, Josie?”

  “Ready, Freddie! It’s better if I have funnel cake after the jump, so I don’t—” I made a barfing imitation.

  Timmy laughed and mimicked with the same. “You’re funny.”

  People didn’t usually describe me as funny.

  “I like those sandals,” he added. “And with three sisters, I see a lot of sandals.�
�

  I glanced at Stella, who smiled proudly at making my shoe selection for me. “Thanks.” The compliment felt nice.

  The line for the bungee snaked up a steep staircase. I looked down at the fat mat below. “Can you imagine if someone missed that?” I asked.

  Timmy said, “I don’t want to.”

  “Me neither,” a voice behind us said. It was Alayna Appleton, the Amazing Apple. “I mean, ‘Hello, splat,’ ” she said.

  I swear, just a quick wink before, she hadn’t been in line behind us. How the heck did she do that?

  “How do you do that?” TJ asked, echoing what everyone was thinking.

  “Ancient magician secret,” Apple said. We waited for her to continue. “It’s SECRET, well, hello, that’s why.”

  Luckily, we were at the top of the stairs and could easily switch the subject to who would jump first. Stella volunteered.

  The bungee worker strapped a helmet on her and wrapped the harness around her waist.

  “Here I go!” she exclaimed with nervous excitement. “See you at the bottom.”

  Right before Stella stepped off the ledge, TJ leaned into her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Before she could even react, she was flying over the edge in a perfect bungee.

  Thirty-Seven Josie

  Police Station

  June 26 (Continued)

  “Amazing—um, I mean, Alayna Appleton—made a kissy sound that was totally immature.” I pause, then add, “I couldn’t believe it.”

  Detective Santoro leans on his elbows, his fists holding up his head. “The kissy sound or that Stella jumped?”

  “We all jumped. That’s what we were doing up there. Haven’t you been paying attention? It was ripper cool, by the way. Such a shame Dario was too afraid. Have you tried it?”

  “I have not,” he says. “The kiss? Is that what bothered you?”

  “No. I mean, it did, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

  “What am I thinking?” he asks me.

  “You think I’m jealous that Stella is kissing someone and I’m not.” I don’t tell him that I never have. That’s not important to his investigation, and I really don’t think he needs to know.

  His expression is unchanged, totally flat. How does someone have only one expression? “You aren’t jealous?”

  “Maybe a little, not because she’s with TJ, but because she isn’t with me.” I figure that needs explanation. “I mean, the summer is for me and Stella. That’s the only time we see each other all year, and she’s spending it with TJ, and she’s pushing me to spend it with Timmy.”

  “I see,” he says, again that expression. I think he still thinks I’m jealous that Stella kissed someone and I didn’t.

  I think about changing the subject by asking him about Laney and what he knows about that man from her phone. I’m not worried like Stella, but I’d feel better if I could just confirm it’s her brother.

  Instead I say, “That’s when it happened again.”

  “Stella and TJ kissed again?”

  “No. The pier.”

  Detective Santoro looks at me flatly, waiting to hear more.

  “It moved. Again.”

  His brow lifts ever so slightly. Call in the Aussie Federal Police, Detective Frown Face showed an expression and raised a brow!

  “After we jumped we landed one at a time on the fat mat… and I mean fat. Have you seen that thing? It’s huge.” I continue, “I was the last to go. I rolled myself off the mat and joined the others—Stella, TJ, and Timmy—who were waiting for me. It was such a rush; I mean, that jump is amazing. You have to try it.”

  He makes no indication that he plans to try the bungee.

  “Dario and Tucker emerged from the crowd with funnel cake. Dario was asking Tucker, ‘But why does anyone need another magnet? And have you ever wondered what’s up with marshmallows? I’m not sure I care, because I’m gonna eat them anyway, but I’m curious: What’s a marshmallow made of?’ Stella’s face turned a little red, like Dario was embarrassing her, and she tried to interrupt their convo by saying, ‘Tucker might be interested in some of your Flying Fish research.’ That’s when Tucker handed me a paper plate covered with heavenly fried dough and powdered sugar. And Dario told us about the guys in the group—Evan, Austin, and Lucien. They’re way involved with environmental protection efforts, volunteering to make marine habitats and stuff.” I slip in, “Did I mention that Stella and TJ were holding hands?”

  Detective Santoro doesn’t comment on that. I think he might say it’s kind of soon for that, since they, like, just started hanging out a few days ago. Instead he says, “The pier… it moved…”

  “Oh, right.” I explain. “So we listened to Dario tell us about the Flying Fish’s environmental projects, and we shared funnel cake. That’s when it happened again, just like last time.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  “A sway. That’s the best way to describe it. There was a mega wave, and it felt like the pier swayed a bit. TJ said, ‘Whoa… feel that?’ Timmy and Tucker were fighting over the last bite of funnel cake and asked, ‘What?’ Stella, Dario, and I shared a look, and Dario whispered, ‘Compromised.’ Stella and I knew exactly what he meant, but the boys ignored him, because by this time Dario’d talked so much about things that they didn’t really care about, except for the Flying Fish, that the guys had tuned him out.” I add, “Then the Three Ts had to leave.”

  “Where were they going?”

  “They didn’t say.” The boys don’t know that we know where they’ve been. Detective Santoro writes something down, maybe that I don’t know where the boys went; then he says, “If the boys didn’t think the sway was a big deal, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the movement was normal and really does happen all the time, except that since you had this idea in your minds about the pier’s structural integrity, you made it into something that it wasn’t?”

  I stare at him, because he is missing everything. “You aren’t paying attention, Detective Santoro, and you’re missing important clues.”

  He puts his pen down, rubs his hands over his face that’s stubbled with a whisker shadow, and then leans back in his chair. “Please enlighten me, Josie.”

  “The jellies. The medusas. They were dying. At Whalehead. And nowhere else!”

  Thirty-Eight Josie

  Mr. Rodney’s Bungalow

  June 24

  “Murielle duPluie here with all the shore news on WLEO radio, and I’m happy to report that Meredith Maxwell has arrived in Whalehead. I repeat, Meredith Maxwell has arrived. Now, before you hunt her down for a selfie or autograph, you should know that her security is extensive because the rocker has an überfan that might be a little too über. At this time the overzealous fan’s identity is unknown, but Maxwell’s people are on a quest to find out.

  “You’ll have to admire the teen star from afar. Unless, like me, you’ve been invited to interview her during her promo event at the Smoothie Factory. Be sure to tune in to get the whole inside scoop on the music starlet.”

  Today we waited for the sun to burn off the morning dew and the walkers/joggers/Rollerbladers to finish their workouts before we went to see Mr. Rodney.

  We heard Murielle duPluie’s morning report from the loudspeaker that perched over the boards.

  “Did you hear that?” Stella asked. “Meredith has extra security because of an überfan.” She led the way down a path to the bungalow.

  I said, “Hard to believe that she only has one. You know, being as famous as she is, right?” Then I knocked on Mr. Rodney’s door, lightly, but apparently hard enough to push the door open.

  “Mr. Rodney, are you here? It’s Josie. I’m with Stella. Can we talk to you for a minute?” I moved my face toward the open crack.

  And I couldn’t believe what I saw.

  Thirty-Nine Josie

  Police Station

  June 26 (Continued)

  “I pushed the door open, and I led the way into the bungalow. I told
Stella, ‘Don’t be a wimp—just come on,’ in order to make her come with me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Stella had nothing to do with it. She’s on the straight and narrow this summer. Not getting in any trouble. She doesn’t know that I know this, but she had a rough year at school. But who can blame her? Her mom, Montana, got remarried, to Gregory. Did you know he goes by Gregory, not Greg?”

  “I do.”

  “Anyway, that’s a lot of change. Change stinks, you know? And then she had this other thing that happened with this guy she’s friends with. He’s just a friend, not a boyfriend, and that’s sort of the issue. Not really an issue, but a bummer, for sure.”

  Detective Santoro clears his throat. He’s not into the details, which is weird for a detective, because you’d think he’d want to look closely at all the details. But not this guy. “Anyway, if she gets in trouble one more time, her mother is threatening to send her to a different school. Our dad told me. And that’s why Stella is really careful, because she doesn’t want to change schools. So, you see, she’d never do something like this unless I made her, which I did.”

  “Got it,” he says. “Then what?”

  I say, “One whole wall was wallpapered with photos and newspaper clippings.”

  “What kind of photos?”

  “Medusas, the ocean, the pier, the water under the pier, a drainpipe under the pier, Meredith Maxwell.”

  “He had photos of Meredith Maxwell hanging on the wall?” He writes that down before I confirm.

  “He’s a fan too. Just like everyone else in Whalehead.” I add, “On shelves he had a couple of framed photos of himself with a girl, a little girl. He looked all shaved and cleaned up in them. I think maybe it’s his daughter.”

  “Why?”

  “It was just the impression I got.” I ask, “Do you have kids?” Dad never mentioned it. He’s asking me lots of questions and getting to know me. Shouldn’t I know him a little bit?

  “Let’s just stay focused, Josie.” He calls me Josie, not Miss Higley this time, so maybe he’s getting more comfortable with me, and he’ll open up later, like when I tell him about the Minotaur Coaster. That’s emotional, and emotional convos probably lead to more sharing.