3 Mango Bay (3 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

When it comes to motorhomes, there are several different kinds.

There's the big buses that the rich and famous have, the rolling palaces that can cost upwards of two million dollars.

And then there's the Class A motorhomes, which are typically 35 to 45 feet long, and look like buses, but are more affordable and within the reach of the not so rich.

And then there's the small Class B camping vans – which seem to be quite popular these days, but are a little too small to live in full time.

And in between, there's the Class C motorhomes. These are built on a standard heavy duty truck chassis, and range in size from twenty to thirty two feet. Because they are built on the same foundation as a large truck, they are pretty easy to drive, handling much like an SUV.

And that's the kind of motorhome I have – a Class C.

It's a 28-foot Winnebago, and even though it is six years old, it's pretty nice inside. Much like a small condo, it has granite counter tops, solid oak cabinets, double door fridge, full bath with shower, and a private bedroom in the back.

There's also a dinette table and couch which can be folded out to make a guest bed. And it even has a lounge chair with a reading lamp.

It's a nice little package and has just about everything a person would want or need while on the road. While it'd probably be too small for a family of four, it suits me just fine.

The only problem with living in a motorhome is if it's your only vehicle, it means you have to unhook from shore power, bring in the slide and drive the motorhome everywhere you go.

If you need to pick up groceries, you drive the motorhome. If you want to visit the local hardware store, you drive the motorhome. If you want to eat out at a restaurant, you drive the motorhome.  And this can be a problem, because you have to plan ahead and make sure that everywhere you go is wide enough and long enough to get in and out of without getting stuck.

I'd gotten used to doing this, to driving my motorhome to grocery stores and other places to pick up supplies. And yes, it was inconvenient, but doable.

But now that I was living in Serenity Cove, I wouldn't be driving my motorhome that often.

See, some longer stay RV parks, including Serenity Cove, don't want you driving your motorhome in and out of the park every day. They want you to keep it parked, until you get ready to check out.

This 'keep it parked' rule actually makes sense, especially in parks where people are staying for months at a time. If you didn't have this, you might end up with motorhomes and trailers coming and going at all times of the day and night, creating lots of traffic and noise.  And that wouldn't be good for anyone.

So they have the rule, and enforce it.

This is one reason many motorhomes owners have a 'toad' – a small car they tow behind their motorhome.  The toad gives you a way to leave the park and drive to the store or the mall without having to rely on the motorhome.

So far, I'd been able to make do without having a toad, but now that I was living in Serenity Cove, I'd need to get one – and soon. Otherwise, I'd have to call a cab to take me into town to get groceries and supplies.

Fortunately, the solution to my toad problem was just a few steps away.

CHAPTER EIGHT

She said her name was Polly. Polly Sparks. 

Five foot tall and rail thin, with light blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. White cotton shirt, faded jeans. Looked to be in her mid fifties.

In her hand, a plate of brownies.

She smiled and pointed to the silver Airstream trailer behind her. “Welcome to Serenity Cove. I'm your next door neighbor.
  And these are for you.”

She handed me the brownies, and without hesitation, I invited her in.

She had brownies. And I've always had a policy of never turning anyone away who's holding a plate of brownies.

I guided her to the kitchen table. She sat on one side, me the other. The plate of brownies sat in the center of the table between us.

I smiled. “These look really good. Mind if I try one?”

She shook her head, “No, not yet.  First, you've got to tell me your name.”

“You're right. I should of introduced myself. I'm John Walker. But everybody just calls me Walker.”

She nodded. “Glad to meet you Walker.  Now have a brownie.  I think you'll like them.  They're from my special recipe.”

I picked up one and took a bite. It was still warm from the oven and without a doubt the best brownie I'd had in years.

Polly smiled. “You live here alone?”

“Yep, just me. And my cat, Mango Bob.”

“
Mango Bob? What kind of name is that for a cat?”

“
It's a long story.”

“
Let me guess. It involves a woman.”

I nodded and she laughed.

“That's what I thought. There's always a woman involved. You married?”

I shook my head. “No, not any more.”

Polly nodded. “A lot of that going around.

“
So Walker, you're probably in your thirties, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, thirty four.”

“That's what I thought. So what brings a single thirty four year old guy into a 55+ retirement park like Serenity Cove?”

I reached for another brownie. “Work. I'm here to work on the wifi.”

“Wifi, huh? That's a good cover story. Some people might even believe it. But not me. I think you're really an undercover cop.”

CHAPTER NINE

“You think I'm a cop? What makes you think that?”

Polly smiled. “Don't worry. I won't blow your cover. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Ma'am, I assure you I'm not a cop. And even if I were, why would I be here, in Serenity Cove?”

She leaned forward, a mischievous look in her powder blue eyes. Then she looked around, as if checking to see if anyone else might be listening to our conversation. “Walker, we've had a crime wave here lately. There's been a few break-ins and maybe some drug dealing. And because of that, there's a rumor an undercover cop was going to move in and check things out. And stop calling me 'ma'am.'

“Since you've just moved in and are a lot younger than everyone else here, I figure you're the cop. You sure fit the profile. Clean cut, physically fit, no visible tattoos.”

I smiled. “Polly, I'm not a cop. I'm here to work on Serenity Cove's internet system and the owner's letting me stay for the summer.”

She nodded. “Well the internet does need work. It's slow most of the time except when it's not working at all.

“
Course, if you were an undercover cop, that'd be a good cover story – telling people you were working on the internet while doing your undercover investigation.

“
But just so you know, it wouldn't bother me if you
were
a cop. In fact, it'd be nice to have police protection living next door to me. Would be a whole lot better than the last people who lived over here.

“
The older woman who was staying here was okay, but she had a couple of grown kids hanging around and they just looked like trouble.”

While Polly was telling me this, I grabbed my third brownie and quickly finished it off. I wanted another, but didn't want to look like I was starving.

I wiped my mouth. “These are good. Hard to stop at just one.”

Polly smiled. “Yeah I know.  It's my special recipe. Everybody loves them.”

She paused for a moment. “Walker, whether you're a cop or not, I need to ask you a favor.

“
One of my prescriptions has run out and I need to go to Publix to get it refilled. But my eyes are a little crazy this morning and I'm afraid to drive.  So if you don't mind, could you drive me over to Publix?”

Now normally, I don't mind doing favors. Even for people I've just met. And Polly had already won me over with her brownies, so I was ready to do her a favor.

But I couldn't.

“
Polly, I'd be happy to drive you to Publix. But I don't have a car. Been meaning to get one, just haven't gotten around to it yet.”

“
That's okay. You can drive mine. You do have a driver's license don't you?”

I nodded. “Yes ma'am – I mean, Polly – I do have a driver's license. And if you want me to drive you to Publix, I'd be happy to. When do you want to go?”

She rubbed her eyes. “Right now would be good. My eyes are starting to sting and that medicine would help. But if you can't do it now, we can go later.”

“
No, now is fine. Give me a minute or two to lock things up here, and I'll meet you out by your car.”

After Polly left, I grabbed my wallet, cell phone, keys and sunglasses – everything I figured I needed.  Then I stepped outside and locked up the motorhome.

Polly was outside by her car.  At her feet was a dog. Short stubby legs, low slung body, shiny brown coat.  Eager to go for a ride.

“
Who's this?”

“
This is Oscar. My faithful companion.”

Upon hearing his name, Oscar looked up, then trotted over to the side door of the white Toyota minivan that was parked next to Polly's Airstream trailer.

Polly pressed a button on her remote and the minivan's rear passenger door slid open. Oscar climbed in and settled down into the back seat.

Polly pushed another button on the remote, and the door glided to a close. Then she handed me the keys and said, “You're driving.”

Before getting in, I walked to the passenger side and opened Polly's door for her. She smiled. “It's been years since someone has done that for me. But don't do it again. Especially when we're out in public. I don't want people thinking I'm old.”

Having learned a quick lesson, I climbed into the driver's seat, adjusted the mirrors and buckled my seat belt.

The minivan started easily, and before I backed out, I checked the rear view mirror.  Oscar was stretched out in the backseat, apparently asleep.

“
He sure looks comfortable back there.”

Polly smiled. “Yeah, he loves to ride in the car. Usually he hops in and goes right to sleep.”

“So how'd he get the name Oscar?”

“
It's from the song.”

“
What song?”

“
The wiener song.”

“
The wiener song?”

“
You know the one. It goes like this.”

And then Polly started singing.

“
Oh, I wish I was an Oscar Mayer wiener,
that is what I'd truly like to be,
'cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener,
everyone would be in love with me
.”

By the time she had finished singing, we were both laughing. She had sung the song to perfection, and on the very last line, Oscar had joined in from the back seat.

He sang, “Wooo wooo eeeeee wooo wooo wooo eeeee.”

When Polly quit laughing, she said, “I should of warned you. That's Oscar's favorite song. He always sings along.”

We were both in a good mood after that. Polly and Oscar's duet had made my day.

“
Are we going to the Publix on Dearborn or the one at Merchants Crossing?”

Polly smiled. “I was wondering if you were going to ask me that. I figured a newcomer wouldn’t know there were two Publix stores on this side of town. But an undercover cop would.”

“Polly, I'm not a cop. I've been living in Englewood long enough to know where the grocery stores are. So which one?”

“
The one on Dearborn.”

It was an easy drive from Serenity Cove to Publix on Dearborn. Almost no traffic and only one stop light.

I pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park under the shade of a palm tree. In Florida that's one of the first things you learn. Park in the shade when you can. Even if it means a longer walk to the store.

As soon as I turned off the motor, Polly reached over and touched my arm, “If you don't mind, stay here with Oscar. I'll go in and pick up my prescription and be right back.
”

I smiled. “
No problem. Me and Oscar will wait out here for you.”

Polly got out and headed into the store. Oscar didn't seem to mind. He was in the backseat snoring loudly.

Ten minutes later, Polly had yet to return. Oscar grunted, then sat up. In the distance we could hear the sound of a siren heading in our direction.

CHAPTER TEN

As the siren grew louder, Oscar began moving his head from side to side. His mouth opened, and a groaning sound came out. Like he was either in pain or deeply worried about something.

He was still in the back seat, standing, watching the front door of Publix where a few minutes earlier Polly had entered.

When the Englewood Fire and Rescue truck pulled into the parking lot, Oscar climbed up on the console between the passenger and driver seats, and put his front paws on the dash so he could get a better look at the action.

His groaning sound became louder and he looked in my direction, as if he were expecting me to do something.

I tried to calm him down. “It's okay Oscar. Polly is fine. She'll be back in a few minutes.”

As we watched, two paramedics in blue uniforms climbed out of the rescue truck and rushed into the store. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered outside.

A few moments later, one of the paramedics came back out and got a stretcher from the back of the truck, and then went back inside.

Polly was still in the store and Oscar was quite concerned. He stood looking at the rescue truck, whimpering.

I stroked his back. “Oscar, she'll be back. She's okay.”

But I wasn't really sure. She'd been in there a long time. Maybe Oscar knew something was wrong.

Three minutes later, the paramedics exited the store pushing a gurney with an older woman strapped onto it. It wasn't Polly.

The woman on the gurney was much larger and had long dark hair. The paramedics secured the woman in the back of the emergency vehicle and drove off.

A minute later, Polly exited the store carrying a small white bag in her right hand.

She walked over to the minivan and got in with us. “Did you see that? That lady fainted right at the register. She had a seizure. She was on the floor shaking. No one knew what to do.”

While she was telling me this, Oscar was doing his best to get into her lap. He was happy she was back, safe and sound. And he wanted to be close to her.

Polly stroked his head. “Oscar, were you worried I wasn't coming back?  You know I'd never leave you.”

Oscar's little tail wagged. Polly continued to stroke his back and rub his ears until he calmed down.

Finally she said, “Oscar, time to get in the back seat.”

He groaned, not wanting to leave her lap.

“Oscar, back seat.”

This time he stood and climbed into the back seat.

“That's a good boy.”

With Oscar out of her way, Polly opened her shopping bag and pulled out a small vial of pills and a bottle of Zepherhills water. She opened the water first, then tapped out a single pill and popped it into her mouth.  She washed it down with a drink from the water bottle.

She put the pill bottle in her purse, and turned to me. “That'll help. Won't take long now. So, was Oscar a problem?”

I shook my head. “
No, he was good. He was worried when he saw the EMTs go into the store. But as soon as he saw you come back out, he was happy.”

She smiled. “Oscar is smart. He knows I'm not going to ever leave him, but he does worry when I'm not around.”

I started the mini-van, planning to head back to Serenity Cove. But before I could back out of our parking spot, Polly asked, “Where do you want to go next?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. Where do you want to go?”

She smiled. “You mentioned you didn't have a car and wanted to buy one? What kind of car are you looking for?”

I'd been thinking about this for some time, so I had a ready answer, “I want something to pull behind my motorhome. Like a small pickup with a manual transmission.”

“New or used?”

“
Used.”

“
Good. Used is good. And I know just the place to go. My daughter Lucy, works at the Truck Depot in Venice. They always have a good selection of used trucks. I bet Lucy could find you just what you are looking for. Mind if I call her?”

I smiled. “No, give her a call.”

Polly pulled her phone from her purse and made the call.

“
Lucy, I'm sitting here with my new neighbor, and he says he's looking to buy a used truck. I think you might be able to help him.

“
Yes, I know, but he seems nice. At least talk to him.”

Polly handed me the phone.

“Say 'hi' to Lucy.”