“Um, yes. Precisely,” Mr. Willis said, looking squeamish. “The journal was found in Mr. Garrett’s knapsack partially submerged in the water, but some of the pages are still legible. I plan to display it in the museum starting next Tuesday. Anyone is welcome to take a gander at this fascinating piece of Glimmer Creek history.”
A chorus of whispered excitement broke out from the crowd.
“Settle down!” Mayor Grant banged the gavel. “In case you were getting your hopes up about the train treasure, the journal does not reveal its location.”
A collective groan rose from the room.
Mayor Grant continued. “And I’m gonna warn y’all right now that we won’t tolerate folks digging up dirt that don’t belong to them. Sheriff Parker found five new holes this morning—one of them was smack-dab in the middle of Miss Melinda’s prized roses and the other was in front of the town hall. Why, just last night Sheriff Parker arrested someone for defacing public property, and he’ll do it again if the digging doesn’t stop.”
Shane Rodgers called out, “How many times can I get arrested for the same crime?”
Sheriff Parker stood. “As many times as you violate the law.”
Henry poked Rosie. “We’ve got to go see that journal.”
“Why?” Rosie asked. “Mayor Grant just said it doesn’t say where the treasure is buried.”
“But it might contain a clue about it,” Henry said. “I’ve been researching Lonnie and—”
“Hold on. I thought we weren’t searching for the treasure,” Rosie interrupted.
“All I’m doing is researching, and researching never hurt anyone, right?” Henry asked.
“I guess not,” Rosie said with an inward sigh. Rosie might not believe in the treasure, but she supposed she still had to help a little. After all, Cam was helping her with the documentary and she didn’t believe in the Miracles anymore. At least, not until Rosie proved they were real.
Henry leaned in to her. “From what I’ve learned so far, Lonnie was just a regular guy before the robbery. He got into some trouble, and he wasn’t the nicest, sure, but nothing like stealing. He had these two best friends, Hank and Ned Gooch. The three of them fished at White Stone Beach at midnight, poured maple syrup on the school toilet seats, and even threw firecrackers at people passing underneath the tree house they’d built. Can you imagine the injuries that could cause?” He shook his head. “If we go see the journal next Tuesday, it will only take a half hour.”
Henry made a pleading motion with his hands. His face was tired, but his eyes gleamed like two lightning bugs.
“All right,” Rosie said.
Henry beamed at her.
Next, Miss Matilda went on about harvesting oysters. Mr. Hardaway announced he had sold out of shovels at Hardaway Market but was expecting more next week, and Mrs. Moore mentioned she was selling warm cookies to raise money for children’s cancer research. The meeting ran long, as usual.
“If that’s all … ,” Mayor Grant finally said.
Rosie’s fingers tingled, her heart drummed against her rib cage, and before she knew exactly what she was doing, she called out, “I have an announcement.”
Every head in the room turned to look at Rosie. She rubbed her hands along her pants leg. No need to be nervous. Closing her eyes for a brief second, she pictured herself standing in front of a crowd like a heroine fighting for justice in a legal drama. A single spotlight would illuminate her face, the courtroom would hush, the music would swell, and—
Cam elbowed her.
Rosie’s eyes popped open. “My, um, announcement is about a new project. I’m filming a documentary about the Miracles, and I plan to find out what causes them. I—I’ve already interviewed some of the Miracled, and I’d love to interview more of you. I’m also in the process of filming cutaways and live-action scenes, so you may see me around town working on that. Cutaways are when you interrupt the continuous filming to show something related to the main scene.” Rosie turned around to see Cam miming for her to stop talking. “You get the point. I’m filming a documentary.”
A few people nodded from their seats. A few others looked at their watches.
Miss Matilda stood up. “I’m not so sure about this documentary. Now, y’all know I love this town, but I don’t like the idea of advertising ourselves to the rest of the world. Our Miracles are supposed to stay a secret. Most folks have never heard of Glimmer Creek, and I reckon that’s a good thing. We live in a nice, quiet town. I don’t want that to change.”
How was Rosie’s documentary going to change Glimmer Creek for the worse? If anything, publicity was good for the town. It could mean more visitors, more people. It could make the town bigger and better.
The townsfolk stopped looking at their watches and started looking at Rosie. Sweat dribbled down her sides. Backing up, she hit the wall behind her. She hadn’t even thought there might be opposition to her documentary. She wasn’t Stanley Kubrick, for goodness’ sake.
Mr. Waverman stood up. “I already gave my interview, but I hadn’t thought about what you said, Matilda. It’s a good point. I can’t have the paparazzi stalking me on my mail route.”
“Oh, give me a break.” Cam glared at Mr. Waverman and moved closer to Rosie.
Shane and Frank Rodgers leapt to their feet. “We don’t mind getting famous,” Shane said. “Frank and me would make great reality-TV stars.”
Mr. Hardaway rose with a smirk. “I hardly think an amateur movie about a little town legend is going to send a bunch of media types to Glimmer Creek.”
“The Miracles are not a legend, Fred. They’re part of our life,” Donna Davis said, planting her hands on her hips. “I found my great-grandma’s diamond bracelet under my bed right when I needed it. It was missing for fifty years. I’d sold everything I had to keep my family afloat, but that bracelet was the Miracle that saved my home from foreclosure.”
Since the bracelet, Mrs. Davis had won the scratch-off lottery twelve times and came across stray quarters any time she walked along the sidewalk. She seemed to find money everywhere after her Miracle. Mayor Grant had even wanted to turn the town’s retirement fund over to her, but Mama talked him out of it.
“Simmer down, Donna,” Mr. Hardaway said. “You know I’m a big supporter of the Miracles. I was the one selling Miracle T-shirts at the festival last year.”
“Those T-shirts read: ‘I came for a Miracle, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.’ They were an embarrassment,” Mrs. Davis snapped.
“They were big sellers,” Mr. Hardaway griped before sitting down.
The din of voices rose and rumbled through the room like thunder. The crowd drew closer to Rosie, every pair of eyes boring holes into her. She looked to the front, where Mama usually sat behind Mayor Grant. If only she were here instead of dealing with a burst pipe on Poplar Lane.
Sheriff Parker stood and locked eyes with Rosie. She cringed. He was probably about to arrest her for disturbing the peace with her announcement.
“Folks, this movie is not something to get worked up over. Let’s all stop yelling at the kid,” Sheriff Parker said.
Rosie blinked. Had Sheriff Parker just defended her in front of everyone?
“No one is yelling,” Miss Matilda yelled.
“No one is being quiet either,” Sheriff Parker said, glancing at Rosie again. “We need to calm down.”
Rosie couldn’t believe it. For once Sheriff Parker was trying to help her. Maybe he wasn’t completely terrible.
Mr. Willis stood. “Sheriff, I’m plenty calm, but I do think we need to talk about preserving the character of Glimmer Creek. I’m not sure a documentary posted online is really part of our town culture.”
Rosie made herself step forward again. She had to stop this. “I—I never said I was going to post it online, and I definitely won’t if it’s such a big deal to everyone.”
This could work better. It meant Rosie’s father must come to the festival. She couldn’t even send him a link to the docume
ntary. Although now if he didn’t come, he might never see the film she was making for him.
“There you go. You can stop snowing on Rosie’s parade. She won’t put the movie up in a video chatroom. That solves the problem,” Mayor Grant said.
“I don’t agree,” Miss Matilda began.
A hubbub broke out with half the room out of their chairs and no one able to understand what anyone else was saying. Cam and Henry stepped closer to Rosie, guarding her on either side. She swayed on her feet, wanting to say something to convince everyone the documentary was a good idea, a great idea even, but her lips were glued shut. If Mayor Grant wouldn’t show her film, she’d have nothing to show her father. Her entire plan would be ruined.
“Shush!” Mayor Grant yelled.
The room went silent.
“Now, keep your britches on, all of you. I’m the mayor, and I say this movie is not going to harm Glimmer Creek one bit,” Mayor Grant said. “The Miracles are part of our town pride and not something to hide. That’s the final word on the matter. Meeting adjourned!”
Cam and Henry grinned at her. Rosie tried to grin back, but her face had frozen in a grimace. She expelled a long stream of air. Her documentary wasn’t canceled. She would have a movie premiere in eleven days. Thank goodness for Mayor Grant.
With the meeting over, the crowd began to stretch and shuffle their way down the aisles to the exit. Henry hurried off to talk to Mr. Willis, and Cam was on her tippy-toes, trying to see above the crowd.
Rosie collapsed back against the wall. “That was a close one.”
“Uh-huh,” Cam said.
“I thought the documentary was going to get canceled for sure,” Rosie said.
Cam made a noncommittal sound under her breath. Then she brightened and waved a frantic hand over her head. “There’s Leila. I better go over and apologize for missing the announcement. I hope she’s not mad.”
“Do you want me to come with you and explain how running over schedule is expected in filming?” Rosie asked.
“That’s okay,” Cam said, already wading into the crowd.
“At least let me explain how it was my fault you were late,” Rosie said, following behind.
Cam stopped and turned, nearly knocking into Rosie. “It’s better if I go alone. Leila won’t understand about the movie thing, and she doesn’t even know you.”
Rosie hesitated. “You could introduce me.”
“Now isn’t the best time,” Cam said quickly.
“Want me to wait for you outside?” Rosie asked in a small voice.
Cam squeezed Rosie’s arm for a moment. “I’ll probably walk with Leila. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure, okay,” Rosie said, her throat tight.
The crowd swallowed Cam up as she hurried away. Rosie pressed her arms to her sides, suddenly cold. What did Cam mean when she said Leila wouldn’t understand about the movie thing? And why didn’t Cam want her to meet Leila?
Feeling sick, Rosie turned and pushed her way through the crowd until she spilled out onto the sidewalk. Outside, the streetlamps winked on one by one. She waited for Henry as people continued to trickle out of the community center. No one stopped to talk to her. In fact, it almost seemed as though everyone was avoiding her, just like Cam and her new friends. Clumps of people glanced at Rosie before quickly looking away and whispering to each other. They had to be talking about her and the documentary, and it obviously wasn’t good.
The light faded, and purple shadows crouched beside the nearby bushes. As the minutes ticked by and Rosie stood alone, a dark realization set in. Her documentary wasn’t even close to complete. She still needed to film tons of interviews and live-action segments, and she had a mystery to solve. But how was she going to film a documentary about Glimmer Creek’s Miracles if half the town refused to help?
CHAPTER TEN
A few days later, Rosie borrowed a table from Sook Diner and arranged it in the middle of the sidewalk on Magnolia Street. Rosie had roped off sections of the sidewalk and made a FILMING IN PROGRESS sign. She was waiting on Frank and Shane Rodgers, and they were already five minutes late.
Today’s scene was crucial. She’d spent the last three days trying to convince more Miracled people to let her interview them. A few had canceled after Miss Matilda’s speech at the town meeting, and Rosie was scrambling to get enough footage for the documentary. She needed this live-action scene of Shane and Frank Rodgers to go well; with fewer interviews and eight days until the festival, she was running out of options and time.
“Rosie, right?”
Rosie looked up from her watch. Lucy Rambler had stopped behind the rope. She was in Rosie’s Spanish class, but they’d never talked before. Lucy had only moved to Glimmer Creek last summer. Never shy about raising her hand, she spoke in a perfect Spanish accent. She had chin-length hair with blue streaks and wore black boots with heavy silver buckles that could crush an entire anthill in one stomp.
“I’m Lucy,” Lucy continued, a friendly smile on her face. “We go to the same school.”
“I know,” Rosie said, smiling back.
“Are you filming a scene for the documentary?” Lucy asked.
“Actually, I am,” Rosie said, surprised.
“I was at the last town meeting. I think it’s a cool idea. So you’re trying to prove they’re real or something?” Lucy asked.
Rosie raised her eyebrows. “They are real.”
Lucy shrugged. “I didn’t grow up here, so it’s never been my thing.”
Lucy didn’t sound challenging, just skeptical. Rosie guessed a town where a Miracle happened every year might sound a little crazy to an outsider. Clearing her throat, she adjusted the strap of her camcorder case over her shoulder. There was obviously a convincing explanation if she could only uncover it.
“What type of camcorder do you use?” Lucy asked, gesturing to the camcorder case.
“I’ve got a Canon XA30,” Rosie said.
“Are you using the 58mm UV haze filter to block the sunlight?” Lucy asked.
Rosie’s eyes snapped wide open. This girl knew what a 58mm UV haze filter was?
“Sometimes. I think it sharpens the picture,” Rosie said eagerly.
“I agree. I’ve got a camcorder too, but it’s nothing like yours. The Canon XA30 is the real deal. I used it in film camp in New York City last summer.”
“You went to film camp in New York City?” Rosie asked in an astonished voice.
“My aunt lives up there. It was awesome. We made a student film about a hard-boiled detective and dangerous lady client, all in the film noir style.”
“Did you use low-key lighting and dark silhouettes?” Rosie took a step forward.
“Totally. We went complete Maltese Falcon with the cinematography.”
Rosie sighed. “I would kill to go to that camp.”
“I’ll e-mail you the link,” Lucy said. “Maybe you can go next summer.”
Mama could never afford to send her to film camp in New York City, but maybe her father could. He might insist on it after he saw the documentary, assuming he came to the festival. Rosie’s knees wobbled like pepper jelly, thinking about her empty in-box again.
“Did you know Ms. Pullman is starting a film club at school?” Lucy asked.
“No,” Rosie said.
“I saw a flyer and checked into it. The first meeting is next Monday, and we’re going to watch Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. You should come.” Lucy brushed a lock of blue hair out of her eyes. She’d drawn a tiny sun in red pen near her knuckles with a smiling face and long eyelashes.
“The crop duster scene is one of my favorites,” Rosie said, straightening up.
“It’s a classic,” Lucy agreed. “Ms. Pullman said we’re going to deconstruct that whole sequence after the film.”
“I’ll talk to Cam and Henry about going.” Rosie said. “Oh wait, I forgot. Cam sometimes has a soccer game on Mondays, so we can’t make it. Maybe after the season ends.” A sharp pang
of disappointment stabbed at Rosie. She could always watch North by Northwest at home, but analyzing it with a group sounded fun.
Right then Frank and Shane turned the corner, shoving each other back and forth on the sidewalk and talking in loud voices.
“My four thirty subjects are here. I should go,” Rosie said reluctantly. It was fun to talk to someone who cared about movies like she did.
“Sure.” Lucy rapped a hand along her leg. “Good luck with filming. And hey, if you need any help with your documentary or another film, let me know. I’m pretty into writing scripts.”
Rosie inclined her head and smiled. She was flattered that Lucy, who had gone to an actual film school, wanted to help her, though she couldn’t imagine working on a film with anyone but Cam and Henry.
* * *
An hour later, Rosie flung open her front door and announced, “It’s official. My documentary has turned into a disaster movie.”
Mama poked her head out from the kitchen. “Who’s playing the role of King Kong?”
“Take your pick. Shane Rodgers? Miss Matilda? Mr. Waverman?” Rosie shrugged off her backpack. “Everyone is trying to ruin my movie.”
“I’m guessing the Rodgers brothers’ scene didn’t go so well today?”
“That’s an understatement,” Rosie said, kicking her backpack. “I was trying to film a live-action sequence where they read each other’s minds, but I didn’t get the chance because they got into a giant psychic fistfight right in the middle of Magnolia Street.”
“Whoa. How did that happen?” Mama asked, stepping into the foyer.
“Well, Shane told Frank he looked like a Yankee in his new shirt, and Frank told Shane his shirt looked like it was covered in dog poop. They started off insulting each other in their heads, but soon they were yelling out loud and punching. It was a huge commotion, and I’m pretty sure someone called Sheriff Parker.”
Mama crossed the foyer and laid her hand on Rosie’s back, rubbing it in small circles. “They should have called Shane and Frank’s mama. She’s the only one who can talk sense into them. Those boys would never have needed a Miracle in the first place if they could keep their hands off each other.”
Forever Glimmer Creek Page 8