Local Girl Swept Away (15 page)

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Authors: Ellen Wittlinger

BOOK: Local Girl Swept Away
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Finn's lip twitched and he squinted at me in disgust, but I didn't care. I was determined that we could get past what had happened and all be friends again, but it was not a message Finn wanted to hear.

His mouth curled up at one corner. “Yeah. Lucas has changed so much I hardly
recognize
him,” he said, then turned and stomped off.

“What's with Finn?” Tony said, looking after him.

I shrugged. “You know how cranky fishermen can be.”

• • •

“FAFSA can wait,” Elsie said the minute I walked into her office. “I had a brainstorm last night. We're going to do a show of your photographs here, at JSAC, a week from tomorrow!”

“What?” On the walk over I'd been mulling a question about the difference between taxable and nontaxable income, and I couldn't immediately make sense of what Elsie was saying.

“I was trying to think of a way to make your application stand out from all the others so you'd have a better chance to get scholarship money,” Elsie explained, “and I realized we could give you a show here! Isn't that a great idea? How many high school students have had a show at an actual gallery? I can tell you:
none
.”

I dropped my stack of papers onto the desk. “But that's impossible. The gallery's booked up a year ahead.”

Elsie grinned. “Except there's nothing booked for the next two weeks. I planned it that way so I'd have time to Spackle and repaint the walls and refinish the floors. I thought Cooper and I would do most of it ourselves, but if you can help us—and we'll get Finn too—we can do it in half the time. We can have the opening at the end of next week and the work can stay up for four or five days before we have to get ready for the next scheduled show. I'm sure I can get someone to review it, at least locally, so you'll have a clipping to send with your application. What do you say?” Elsie was practically levitating with glee.

I felt as if all the blood from my brain had puddled in my feet, and I had to hold onto the edge of the desk to keep myself upright. “I don't know
what
to say.”

“Say yes, Jacqueline.”

I spun around to see Cooper coming through the doorway, grinning, and behind him, Finn, carrying a cardboard box.

“Did you hear this?” I asked them.

“Is Elsie a genius, or what?” Cooper said.

“Genius?” Finn said, scowling. He pushed past Cooper and stacked the ream of copy paper in a corner of the office. “You people throw that word around so much it's lost all meaning.
You paid that bill on time? You're a genius! You found my keys? You're a genius! You got the printer working? You're a genius!
You'd think this place was full of NASA scientists.”

I ignored him. “Do you think I have enough stuff for a show?”

“Of course you do,” Elsie said. “Although I'd like you to finish one of those horizontal sequences of cloud photos you've been working on. I want to see one of those on the wall.”

I squealed. “I can't believe this!”

“Couldn't this backfire?” Finn asked his mother. “I mean, what if you get some reviewer to come and he hates it? Just because you love it—”

And just that quickly, fear crept into the cracks of my happiness. What if Finn was right? What if it turned out to be embarrassing to have my work hanging in public? What if nobody showed up? What if they showed up and
laughed
?

Cooper smacked Finn on the back. “Way to be supportive of your friend, pal.”

“I'm not your pal.” Finn shrugged away from Cooper and turned to his mother. “I didn't say I wouldn't help you. I will. I'm just asking if you've thought the whole thing through. I know Jackie's pretty good, but she's still a high school kid.”

Elsie put a protective arm around me. “For one thing, Jackie's
very
good. And, secondly, I'm not going to ask some idiot to review her. Even if it's not a rave, it'll be a respectful review. I'm not worried.”

“Well, I'm happy to help out,” Cooper said. “You can count on me.” He moved behind me and put his hands on my shoulders which made me shiver a little.

I darted a glance at Finn who seemed to be pissed off at all of us. “I'll bet your old friend Lucas will want to help out too,” he said. “He's always there when you need him.”

“Right. I forgot Lucas was back,” Elsie said, totally misunderstanding the dig. “And maybe your friend Charlotte would help too. Cooper and I can finish packing up Carolyn's show tonight and then we'll all work in the gallery tomorrow and Sunday.”

“I'll have to mat things, won't I?” I asked.

“Cooper can help you. Maybe we'll even frame one or two. Bring all your stuff over tomorrow and we'll decide. I'm coming in early, but Finn can give you a ride over mid-morning.”

I glanced at him. “Can you?”

He shrugged, then gave a curt nod.

“It's settled then,” Elsie said happily. “Team Jackie Silva starts work tomorrow!”

“Team Jacqueline,” Cooper said quietly, as if he were speaking only to me.

17.

I floated down Commercial Street in a joyous bubble. My photographs were going to hang in the gallery at the Center, as if I were an actual, legitimate photographer! My imagination was on fire envisioning my pictures hanging on the same walls that showed the work of established artists—people like Carolyn Winter. I dug my camera from my backpack and started clicking away at fences, flowers, chimneys, license plates, streetlights, posters tacked to telephone poles. Every direction I pointed the camera highlighted something I'd never seen before, or, at least, never noticed in quite this way.

“Hey, Jackie! Take
my
picture!” The bleeting voice was immediately recognizable.

I froze in place, but eventually I had to look up from the camera toward the front porch of Old Hat Vintage Clothes. There sat Carla in a rocking chair wearing what seemed to be two or three different outfits from the store, layered one over the other.

“Oh, hi,” I said reluctantly. “I didn't see you there.”

“You weren't looking. Come on, take my picture. I look good in this dress.” She petted the black velvet blouse of her odd costume, then wrapped a green flowered scarf tightly around her neck half a dozen times so it looked as if her head was no longer connected to the gaunt body beneath. “There. Don't I look good?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

“Not as good as I used to,” she said, with a sharp laugh. “I should never have had that damn kid. She ruined my whole life. Take my advice, Jackie: Don't ever get yourself knocked up.” She hiked her skirt so her knees stuck out, then turned to one side and said, “I like a profile shot, don't you?”

What choice did I have? People on the street were already staring at us—I didn't want to make more of a scene than we already were. I took three or four shots, but just the sight of her through the viewfinder made my hands tremble.

Carla shifted position, sticking her bare feet out in front of her as if showing off the dirty soles. “Now one like this.”

I snapped one more, and then made a show of looking at my watch. “Oh, I have to get going. Sorry. I told Mom I'd be home by now.” It wasn't much of an excuse, but Carla didn't seem capable of judging.

“Bring me copies of those pictures!” she called after me as I sprinted away down the sidewalk. “Don't forget!”

I ran the length of the block as if Carla were chasing me. I had the awful feeling that I'd never outrun that image of her, her craziness framed forever in my mind. I intended to run all the way home, but suddenly a man came out of the bank and I had to swerve to avoid smacking right into him. In fact, I did clip him on the shoulder and we both whirled in a circle.

“Whoa!” Cooper Thorne grabbed my shoulders before I toppled over. “Where's the fire?”

“Sorry! Oh, it's
you
! I'm sorry!” I stopped to catch my breath and looked back over my shoulder.

“Are you running away from somebody?”

“No, I . . . well, sort of.”

Cooper smiled but didn't question me further. I tried to calm down and act like a normal person.

“You on your way home?” he asked.

I nodded. “Weren't you just at the Center?”

“Had to get to the bank before they closed. I'll walk you home, unless you're training for a marathon or something.”

Cooper lived in the other direction, across the street from JSAC, and I was flattered that he wanted to walk with me, but I was still kind of freaked out about Carla. My smile felt wobbly.

Cooper narrowed his eyes. “Is something wrong? You look a little strange.”

“I
am
a little strange,” I said. I was trying to make a joke of it, but it came out sounding like a confession.

“You want to go somewhere and talk?”

The kindness in his voice made me want to lean against him, to follow him anywhere. I looked directly into the abyss of his eyes. “I would. Yes.”

He put his hand on my waist, lightly, and led me on a sandy path between two buildings and down to the bay beach. The wind had picked up and we were heading right into it.

“There's this place I like to go sometimes, to be alone and think about things,” he said.

Right away I thought of the cabins. Where else could you be alone in this part of town?

“Are you cold?” Cooper asked. “You're shivering.”

“A little, I guess.” I zipped up my jacket even though I knew it was nerves, not weather, making me quake. The peculiarity of this rollercoaster day was never-ending.

“It'll be good to get in out of the wind.” He took my hand gently in his and my panic subsided. Cooper always seemed to show up just when I needed him. Maybe he was just being nice to a silly kid, but I didn't care. My hand felt sheltered in his.

“There are these old cabins down here that get closed up as soon as the season's over,” he said. “But it's easy to jimmy the door and get in.”

I smiled. “Dugan's Cottages.”

“You've been there?”

“I grew up in Provincetown. My friends hung out in Cabin 5 for years.”

“What a coincidence. Cabin 5 happens to be the one that's easiest to break into.”

We ran the rest of the way. When we got there Cooper took a pocketknife and wedged it into the doorjamb near the rusty lock. The door popped open.

“Wow,” I said. “That was fast. We always took the boards off the bedroom window to get in. You obviously have more experience at breaking and entering.”

“Oh, yeah, I'm quite the slippery hoodlum,” he said, twirling an imaginary mustache. “You have no idea.”

He left the door half-open so sunlight could drift into the dank space, but the cabin was still a lot more shadowy than I remembered it. When we were kids it never seemed scary to play here, even though the cabin was dark, but now the place had an eerie, lifeless feeling to it. Thin, watermarked curtains hung crookedly over the boarded-up windows, and one glass waited to be washed in the old stained sink.

“Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

“From time to time. Even in summer the cabins aren't always rented. They're not exactly luxury accommodations.”

Cooper opened a closet door and pulled out a blanket to throw over the ancient couch. “If you don't cover it first, the dust asphyxiates you,” he said as he sat down.

I wasn't sure if I should sit next to him or not. I didn't want to make any wrong assumptions about what we were doing here. What
were
we doing here? Just talking, right? There was no law against sitting next to the person you were talking to.

He patted the blanket. “Sit down, Jacqueline. Tell me what's going on.” His concern wrapped around me and made me feel safe. In a funny way, he reminded me of Lorna—they were both good-looking, of course, but it was the way they radiated confidence that drew people to them. I sat down next to him.

“I just ran into Lorna Trovato's mother,” I said.

He shook his head. “I don't know her.”

“You're lucky. She's usually drunk and always crazy. For some reason, today she freaked me out even more than usual. I felt like she'd been waiting for me. Like I'd never be able to get her out of my life.”

“That's why you were running? I'm so sorry.”

“She made me take pictures of her. Look.” I pulled my camera from my bag and Cooper leaned over to see. “She had this wild look on her face, can you tell? And she was wearing . . . well, you can see.”

He took the camera from me and scrolled through the recent photographs. “Wow, she looks like an older, nuttier version of her daughter, doesn't she?”

Did she? She had last week when she was wearing Lorna's old clothes, but did she look like her even when she wasn't trying to? I scanned the pictures again, even though they gave me the creeps. The highly arched feet that seemed to be running in place, the drama of the decapitating scarf, the fearless you'll-never-take-me-alive look on her face—suddenly I recognized them. There was no doubt Lorna had been Carla's daughter.

“I forgot you knew Lorna,” I said.

Cooper shrugged. “Not well. She was always with Finn so I saw her around the Center. You should print some of these photos. They're amazing.”

I shook my head. “I don't know.”

“At least show them to Elsie.”

“Maybe.” But I knew I wouldn't. What if Elsie wanted one in the show? No, these were not going to hang on a gallery wall.

Cooper took my chin in his hand so I couldn't look away from him. “You don't have tons of self-confidence, do you, Jacqueline Silva?”

I grinned half-heartedly. “What was your first clue?”

But he didn't smile back this time. “You're full of talent and potential, but you don't seem to believe it. Elsie's giving you a show at JSAC! Do you get what that means?”

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