The Eclipse of Moonbeam Dawson

by Jean Davies Okimoto

  “Just call the front desk if you need anything,” Reid mumbled, turning to leave. “Oh, sorry. I almost forgot.”

  He went to the cabinet, a beautifully carved yellow cedar armoire, and opened it. “Uh, there’s videos for the VCR at the front desk.”

  Then he fumbled with the keys Jim had given him and went to the full bar at the end of the living room. “This is the refrigerator.” He opened it, displaying the drinks and fancy nuts and snacks. “I’ll leave the key here,” he mumbled again, setting it on the bar as he turned to leave.

  “Just a minute, Reid.” Mr. Lamont walked toward him.

  Oh, no! What’d I forget?

  “Here you go.” Mr. Lamont held out a bill. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, okay. Thank you very much, sir.” Reid closed the door behind him and looked at the bill the guy had given him. Five bucks. Wow! Maybe Brad Wellman would have the flu for a long time and he could just do this bellhop job. He liked it much better than working with lettuce.

  As he was getting off the elevator, Jim called to him, motioning for him to come over to the desk. Oh no. They’ve reported me already. Of course this was too good to be true.

  “Did the Lamonts get settled in okay?”

  “Seemed to, they didn’t ask me for anything.”

  “Good.” Jim lowered his voice. “Reid, you may hear some folks talking about Lamont, he’s a bit controversial. Robert Lamont is an executive with McMullen Blundeel.”

  Reid had never heard the name McMullen Blundeel spoken by his mother or any of her friends without her adding the phrase “those greedy butchers.” It was like one word to her, as if the entire phrase were the actual company name: McMullen Blundeel Those Greedy Butchers. His whole life he’d been raised with the idea that these people were the enemy; but since he had never actually seen a timber company executive, it surprised him that Mr. Lamont looked like just a regular rich guy like you’d see on TV. There were no fangs or horns or anything to show he was one of the evil bad guys.

  “We’re in the service industry, and the lodge exists to provide service to the guests whether we approve of their line of work or their politics or anything else. I just wanted to make that clear.”

  “Okay, I won’t poison them, ha-ha!” Reid laughed.

  “No jokes, son.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. But since you’re new, I wanted to remind you of our mission here.”

  On his way back to his apartment, Reid ran into Gloria. She was carrying a clothes basket, heading toward the employee laundry room.

  “Want a hand with that?”

  “It’s not heavy.”

  “I need the practice,” he put his hands on the basket. “I wasn’t so great first time out as a bellhop.”

  “Okay, but I don’t tip.” She handed him the basket.

  In the laundry room, Reid sat on one of the tables while Gloria put her clothes in the washing machine.

  “How’d it go with your mum this morning?”

  “She lives in a nice place. She was all settled and everything.”

  “You didn’t have to unload all her stuff like you thought you would?” Gloria poured soap into the machine and closed the lid.

  “She and that guy Harvey had it all done.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Reid picked up her empty basket.

  “Yeah, but your tone did and you scrunched up your mouth when you said his name.”

  “I did?” Reid felt his mouth with his hand. “I didn’t know I did that.”

  “Yeah, when you don’t like something, your mouth scrunches up at the corners. I’ve noticed this.”

  “Well, I’m not saying I don’t like him, it’s just that I was surprised. That’s all. She’s all set there, her place looks like she’s been there forever, and she’s joined some group called Bear Alert.”

  “Cool. My brother John’s in that.” Gloria walked over to the Coke machine next to the dryers, put in a loony, the one dollar coin, and took out a diet Coke. “He and this Chinese Canadian guy, Jeffrey Eng, do the educational stuff in the Asian communities.”

  “I just don’t know if she understands what she’s getting into, trying to stop poachers and trophy hunters. I mean, my mother sometimes just jumps into stuff.”

  “Look, it’s true, the poachers are real scum. They’re usually involved in drugs and weapons trafficking, too. But I’ve been to a couple of meetings with John and they’re careful. People in Bear Alert wouldn’t go out alone to intercept these guys.” Gloria looked up at the clock on the wall over the dryers. “I better get over to the kitchen. I’ll put my stuff in the dryer when I get my first break.”

  “Are you prepping again tonight?”

  “It’s me and the potatoes. And you?”

  “Bussing tables.”

  “Good luck,” she grinned.

  “Is it hard?”

  “No. As long as you don’t listen to what the guests are saying and just try and focus on your job, it’s okay.”

  * * *

  When they got to the kitchen, Claude gave Reid a quick briefing on bussing the tables. “The server will offer them drinks, then you go to the table to fill the water glasses. Always lift the water glass away from the table to fill it. Fill it whenever it gets less than half-full. Serve from the left, take away from the right. Clear the plates as soon as the plate is empty and the guest has put the fork down. If the plate has food on it, but the fork has been put down, be sure and ask if you may clear the plate before you take it away. Bring the bread and olive oil as soon as the guests have placed their order with their server, and if the wine glasses need refilling, be sure and find their server to take care of it.”

  “Got it.” Reid nodded and left for the dining room. This should be pretty easy, he thought. A lot better than having to cut up all those vegetables and jump in and out of the walk-in fridge to get stuff that he wasn’t even sure what it was. Just fill the water, give ’em the bread, and take their plates when they’re done. A piece of cake. Nothing to it.

  In the dining room he stood next to the long sideboard, surveying the room. Pale yellow flowers in small crystal vases, gleaming silverware, and flickering candles were on every table. The room had a gentle radiance that contrasted sharply with the world just outside its wide expanse of glass; the sea, the storm-tossed driftwood, and the deep green of the enormous, ancient trees.

  While he waited for guests to arrive, Reid thought about the beautiful girl in Room 426. He was sure that she and her father would have room service; they’d undoubtedly eat in their suite’s private dining area, not here with the regular guests.

  Maybe he could stick a little note on the cart that would be wheeled into their suite. It would be propped up next to the flowers, with her name on it. Michelle. A beautiful name. Wonder whether she has two ls or one? Probably two. A girl like that would have more of everything. He would write her name very nicely on the envelope of the card. Michelle. Then inside it would say something simple and right to the point. For a good time, see Reid. Apt. #3.

  She would slip the card carefully into her pocket while her father was in the bathroom or something, and then after the dining room closed and he was hanging out in his apartment he would hear this light tap-tap on his door.

  “Reid, I came as soon as I could.”

  “Cool.”

  “Great apartment. Can I come in?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Do you live here alone?”

  “Yes. We are alone, Michelle.”

  “Oh, Reid!” Then she throws herself into his arms and they kiss wildly, and passionately. “Oh, Reid. You are an animal!” She pants breathlessly. Then she takes his hand and …

  Reid couldn’t believe it. Michelle and her father walked into the dining room and Joan, the hostess, showed them to a corner table next to the window. He stared at them as they studied their menus, then Susan, their server, went to their table. Susan’s taking their dri
nk orders. Okay, as soon as she leaves it’s time for the water. Just pick up the glass, lift it away from the table, then replace it. Piece of cake. Nothing to it. Reid watched the table carefully. Okay, Susan’s leaving to get their drinks, now go. Simple. Nothing to it. Serve from the left, take away from the right. Pick up glass, lift away from the table, fill, and replace.

  Reid grabbed a large water pitcher from the sideboard, then paused a minute. He held his shoulders back and lifted up his head. Pick up glass, lift away from the table, fill, and replace. Pick up glass, lift away from the table, fill, and replace. Pick up glass, lift away from the table, fill, and replace. He repeated it like a mantra as he crossed the dining room and walked toward their table, carefully holding the pitcher with two hands. Two more steps and he’d be there. Pick up glass …

  “Hi, Reid.” Michelle looked up at him and smiled. Her full lips parted, her teeth gleamed with their toothpaste advertisement whiteness, her cat’s eyes shone and sparkled in the candlelight, her thick honey-blond hair hung softly around her shoulders.

  “Hi, Michelle.” He lifted the glass away from the table and returned her smile. Gazing and smiling into her lovely face, he poured the water. As he smiled, the water missed the glass and dumped all over her.

  “Eeeeek!” she shrieked as some ice cubes bounced in her lap and water soaked her shoe.

  “Oops! Sorry!” Reid set the pitcher on the table and bent to pick up the ice cubes from the floor. Mr. Lamont pulled his chair back.

  “Are you out to get us, kid?” Mr. Lamont laughed and handed Michelle his napkin.

  Reid crawled under the table trying to get more ice cubes. He’s gotta be there thinking, stay away from my daughter, you pervert. I didn’t bring her to this place to have her spilled on by a clumsy, sex-starved maniac like you.

  “Sorry sir,” Reid mumbled from under the table as Susan came up with their drinks.

  “Reid,” Susan leaned over and spoke to him in whisper, “just leave the ice cubes where they are. There are other guests now that need water.”

  “I’ve got almost all of them.” His butt stuck out from under the tablecloth.

  “Get out from under the table, Reid.” Then she looked at Mr. Lamont. “I’m so sorry. Reid is new here.”

  “Surely you jest,” Mr. Lamont said sarcastically, as Reid crawled out, bumping his head.

  * * *

  He wanted to slink right out of the dining room and right out of the lodge. But luckily for him, the worst was over; the Lamonts didn’t drink much water so he didn’t have to return to their table to fill their glasses again, just to get their plates.

  He was still mortified, but as the evening wore on, he realized he had begun to get the hang of bussing. Not that he was perfect. There was the lady’s fork that slipped off her plate as he was clearing it and stabbed her in the leg, and the man whose uneaten tomato flew into his lap as his salad plate was taken away. But all in all, Reid thought he had done a reasonably decent job.

  When he did have to go back to the Lamonts’ table, he pretended they were statues and that he was a robot automatically taking their plates away. Michelle looked out the window each time he came to the table so he didn’t have to worry about her talking to him and messing up his concentration. But it also meant, without a doubt, that she thought he was a total jerk. And he felt like it, too. A complete jerk for imagining all that stuff about him and her together. What a laugh.

  After the last guests had gone and the dining room was empty, Reid got his dinner from Claude and took it into the dining room where the staff was eating. On his way to the staff table, Susan took him aside and told him never to crawl around on the floor to clean up any dropped food. She reminded him that ice cubes also came in this category. “The items that should be picked and replaced are any silverware that falls or dishes or glasses.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just wanted to make sure you learned from this tonight, Reid,” she said as she went back into the kitchen.

  “Okay, I won’t crawl under the tables again.”

  Gloria overheard him as she came out of the kitchen. “What was that about?”

  They walked to the staff table and sat next to each other. “This looks great.” Reid dug his fork into the pasta puttanesca Claude made for the staff.

  “It is. Even though we don’t get to eat the food from the menu, whatever he whips up for us is always fantastic.” Gloria put her napkin on her lap. “So what were you telling Susan about the tables?”

  “Susan?” Reid slurped the pasta.

  “Yeah, Susan the server, just now. Look if you don’t want to tell me…”

  “It’s just embarrassing, that’s all.”

  “Everyone who works here has done something goofy. You can’t help it. Stuff happens.”

  “I suppose so. Well, I dumped water on this girl, that’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  “Then I crawled around under the table trying to get the ice cubes.”

  Gloria swallowed hard, like she was trying not to laugh. “Was it Lamont’s daughter? She’s the only guest I know about who’s under the age of twenty.”

  “That’s who it was.”

  “Well, I think she deserved it. You should have dumped the whole pitcher on her head and his, too. He’s one of the top people who’s responsible for the clear-cutting. They’re destroying the old-growth forest.”

  “But she’s not.”

  “Maybe in your heart you wanted to make sort of a statement. I don’t mean exactly a planned thing. Maybe just a little protest that slipped out accidentally, since after all you’d been at the protests in ninety-three.”

  “No, I know it wasn’t that.”

  “You were there, weren’t you? I thought you told me that you and your mother were there. John and I were there with our parents.”

  “I was there, but I’m sure that’s not the reason.” Reid looked at Gloria and wondered if he should tell her. She had said that brother-sister stuff and he was sure now that meant she just wanted to be friends. And she seemed to want him to confide in her, like a friend would. Reid gulped. “See, it’s just that she’s so beautiful that I got sort of shook up.”

  Gloria picked up her plate. “I’m taking this back to my room to finish.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I’m tired,” she said, coldly. “Bye, Reid.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Gloria stomped back to the table. “You should have changed your name to Ken,” she hissed.

  “Ken?”

  “It fits with Barbie!”

  Reid watched her leave the dining room and then stared glumly at his plate, poking the pasta with his fork.

  Chapter Eight

  Reid got up early to work on his geometry assignment, hoping to get a lot of it done before he had to prep all the fresh fruit for the breakfast buffet. The assignment had to be in the mail by Wednesday. After twenty minutes of diameters, circumferences, and measuring a bunch of angles, his yawns became more and more frequent and the geometry got more and more boring. Better get some fresh air or this will never get done, he thought, stretching and yawning for the third time in two minutes.

  He pulled on his sweatshirt and left the apartment, taking the path to the bluff southeast of the marina. The wooden bench there was one of his favorite spots on the island. Good. It’s empty. Reid sat down, draping his arms over the back of the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him. He breathed in the crisp sea air, wishing he could sit there all morning and not have to finish his geometry and go cut up fruit. It was a good place to think. And there was plenty to think about, with his performance last night; dumping water on Michelle. And then Gloria all mad at him. Did she really expect him to do something like that on purpose just because Michelle’s father was a lumber executive? It’s not a person’s fault who their parents are. Gloria had seemed so much more reasonable than that. And it was just a fact Michelle Lamont was beautiful. Anyone could see that, it’s not like he co
nfessed to Gloria all the stuff he’d been imagining.

  Reid sat forward on the bench. Gloria was down on the dock. What was she doing down there? Then he remembered. It was Monday. The boat from the Opitsat village picked her up on its way to Tofino. Then the bus took them to Ukee. If he didn’t get down there and talk to her, he wouldn’t have another chance until she came back on Friday. He sat there, trying to get up his nerve.

  Look, Gloria, I’m sorry I didn’t dump the water on Michelle’s head on purpose. Maybe I’m not as committed to saving the environment as you’d like me to be, but is that any reason to get so mad?

  Or maybe he should just try to be cool and blow the whole thing off. Hey, Gloria, I know there’s no way you can stay mad at me. See you Friday, eh, sis?

  Reid sighed and kicked a stone next to the bench.

  Why don’t they teach you something useful in school, like How to Talk to Girls, instead of geometry, which is no help with anything in my life. This is pathetic.

  Oh no, here comes the boat. It’s now or never, he thought and sprang from the bench, charging along the path toward the steps, which he took two at a time.

  “Gloria!”

  He sprinted along the dock. Ahead of him a bunch of seagulls had been flocking around some fish guts that hadn’t been completely cleaned off the dock, and the planks were slick with bird droppings.

  “Hey, Gloria! Wait!”

  As the boat pulled into the dock, he knocked over a bucket that had been left near one of the pilings. Splat! Fish guts all over the place. Splat! Reid slid on the slime. His legs flew out from under him. Splat!

  As he landed on his butt, he could see the kids from the Opitsat village leaning over the rail, doubled up with laughter. Then Gloria waved and climbed aboard.

  Fine. Laugh your heads off. Flattened by fish guts. Hilarious. He could hear them laughing as the boat left the dock and still laughing as it went down the channel on its way to their school bus in Tofino. Mustering as much dignity as he could, Reid picked himself up off the dock, wishing he was invisible. But as much as he wanted to be invisible, what he really wished was that he was on that boat.