OMG, A CUL8R Time Travel Mystery (30 page)

“One plain hotdog, five chili-cheese dogs and four bags of chips.”  He turned to Zoey.  “Did you want anything?”

“Just a hotdog, no bun and a Diet Coke,” she replied.

“Coming right up…need any more drinks?”

“Oh yeah…four more Cokes.  Wait, make one of those a Diet.”

The man took six buns out of the warmer and laid them out in a row on the counter.  He dipped into the steaming water, plucked out seven hotdogs and settled one in each of the buns and the final bare one on a piece of butcher paper.  He dropped a ladle of chili on five of them and sprinkled cheese on top.  He wrapped them each in a piece of paper and placed them in a bag, along with the chips.  “Anything else?”

“Some packets of mustard and ketchup, please.”

The vendor added a handful of packets to the bag and fished five cans of soda out of the ice in the cooler and put them in another bag.  He clicked in some numbers on a small calculator.  “All totaled, that’ll be $21.45.”

Austin handed the vendor five five-dollar bills.  “Go ahead and keep it.”

“Thanks son.  Have a nice day.”

“You too,” Austin returned the pleasantry.  He picked up the two bags and headed back toward the beach.

“That can’t all be for you.  I assume Scott and Kelly are here,” Zoey commented.  “They must really be hungry.”

“Yeah, they’re down the beach, but I’m heading this way first,” Austin nodded toward the pier.

“Why?”

Austin didn’t answer but simply led the way until they reached a darkly tanned old man who was sitting cross-legged on the sand in the shade under the pier next to a large pile of seashells which he was threading onto a piece of clear fishing line.  Several completed necklaces were displayed in front of him. The man looked up and smiled broadly when he saw Austin approaching. 

“Haven’t seen you around here for a long time, Austin.”

“Hey, Dan.  How’ve you been?”

“Can’t complain.  Best time of the year to be homeless.  And the best place to be.”  Dan smiled and spread his arms wide, encompassing the whole beach scene and balmy weather.  The old man stood with surprising grace for a man of his age.  His long gray hair was pulled back into a frizzy ponytail.  Baggy cargo shorts hung off his hips, precariously held up only by his prominent hip bones.

“Trying something new with the beard?” Austin asked.

Dan’s long, tanned fingers moved over the collection of small shells he had braided into his scraggly beard.  “I got one tangled in and sorta liked the look, so I added more.”

“It’s very Captain Jack Sparrow-ish.”

Dan frowned.  “Who?”

“Johnny Depp from
Pirates of the Caribbean
,” Austin said.

“Oh yeah.  I saw that movie through the window of the Castaway Bar a few months ago.  I didn’t catch all the dialogue though.”  

Austin reached into one of the bags and pulled out two chili-cheese dogs and a bag of chips.  “I brought you something to eat.  Hot dogs, chips and a Coke.”

“All American meal.”  Dan gratefully took the food.  “Will you and the young lady join me for lunch?”

“Nah, we’ve got a couple friends that are waiting for me to deliver the rest of these.”  As Austin held up the bag, he noticed that Zoey had hung back as if Dan was contagious.  “Have you ever met Zoey?”

“I saw her with you the other day.  She yours?”

“Just a friend,” Austin hurried to explain, then glanced over to see her frown.

Dan wiped his right hand off on his shorts and held it out toward her.  Zoey reluctantly took it in a very loose grip and quickly released it. The expression on her face made it clear how uncomfortable she was.

Dan noticed, but his wry smile said that he didn’t take it personally.  He tried not to hurry, but his fingers shook as he carefully peeled back the paper to reveal one of the hotdogs.  Eagerly he lifted it to his lips.  In between excessively generous bites he turned back to Austin. “How’s the team look this year?”

“Well, you know that Conner graduated, so I lost my favorite running back.  But that should give me a lot more chances to pass the ball.”

“That’s Coach Mead’s claim to fame, isn’t it?  The passing game.”

“Coach Mead?”  Austin was momentarily confused.  Dan knew the high school coach was named Decker.  But then Austin remembered that because of their time travel trip, everything had changed.  From what he, Kelly and Scott had discovered at the library this morning, Coach Decker had been sent to prison almost fifty years ago and was definitely not the current coach at South Beach High School.  “Ahh yes.  Coach Mead.  Should be an interesting season.”  Austin had no idea who Coach Mead was, but he would find out as soon as two-a-days started in August.

“I still keep up with every game.  The paper just gets delivered to my home a day late.” Dan smiled as he glanced over at the recycle container just as a man in a swimsuit, followed by two tired, sandy kids walked by and stuffed a newspaper into the opening as they headed toward the parking lot.

“Well, lunch is getting cold.  See you later Dan.”

Dan reached down and picked up one of the shell necklaces.  “Here, take this.”

Juggling the bags of food, Austin started to raise his palms to decline the offer, but he sensed that was Dan’s way of paying him back for the food.  He reached out and took the necklace.  It was an attractive collection of local shells artistically strung on a fishing line.  Dan probably was able to make a few bucks selling them to tourists who happened to walk by him on the beach. 

“This is awesome.  I’ll bet you could commission these to the local shell shops.”

“Why would I do that?  I’ve got no overhead out here,” Dan remarked with a grin.  “Thanks for the dogs.  Nice meeting you Zoey.  See you around.”

Zoey had already turned and was walking away from Dan and didn’t respond.

Austin walked briskly to catch up to her.  “That was really rude.”

“What was rude?”  She seemed genuinely oblivious.

“You didn’t even say goodbye to Dan.  He was just trying to make small talk.”

“Small talk?” She shrugged.  “What could he
possibly
have to say that I’d want to hear?”

“You’d be surprised . . . if you listened.”

“I don’t see
why
you bother with him.  What’s he ever done for
you
?”

“Nothing.  But then I don’t surround myself with people that only
do
things for me.  I’d miss nearly 100% of the people in Fort Myers Beach if that was my criteria.  Dan’s a really nice man.  I like him.”

“I don’t
get
it, Austin.  He’s homeless, dirty and may even have diseases or something.” Trying to finalize her point she added, “He’s
gross
.”

“He’s a human being.  I’m sure it wasn’t his life’s goal to be homeless on the beach in Florida.”

“My mother said that most people are homeless because they are too
lazy
,
crazy or both
to keep a job.”

“Dan’s not lazy or crazy.  I don’t really know why he’s homeless, but I know he went to college.  I heard he was a doctor or something. But whatever his back story is, he’s a good guy.  He helps keep the beach clean and doesn’t even get paid for it.”

“Big deal.  He doesn’t have
anything
else to do.”

“And he keeps an eye on the kids.”

“Sounds like a
pervert
.”

Austin stopped and turned to face her.  “The first time I met him was after he’d saved a little boy who was drowning.  The lifeguard was too busy flirting with some girls and didn’t even notice until it was all over.  I was out paddle boarding when I saw the kid go under, but Dan got to him before I could.”

Zoey had the grace to look a little bit ashamed, but it was difficult to change a long-time opinion, even when she saw proof that it was wrong.  “Whatever,” she added with a shrug, even though it was with a little less conviction than before.

Austin accepted that this was the best he could hope for from her. What he had learned about Zoey was that she was more adaptable than she let on.  She had gone through a terrifying ordeal of being kidnapped and nearly killed just yesterday, but had already bounced back, relatively unscathed.  He resumed his trek across the beach until he found Kelly and Scott who were struggling to get the pole of the umbrella stuck deeply enough in the sand to make it stand upright. 

“It’s about time,” Scott stated.  “I was about to call out for pizza.”

Austin set the food down on the colorful Mexican rug that Kelly had spread out on the sand.  He took the pole from them and with a powerful downward thrust buried it several inches deeper than they had been able to manage. 

“Thanks,” Scott told him.  “I can already feel my skin sizzling.”  He slid the umbrella open and stuck the pin into the pole to hold it up, then flopped down in the darkest corner of shade.  Kelly moved to the sunny side of the blanket and sat.

Austin shrugged it off.  “No worries.”  He knelt down on the rug, opened the bags and started handing out the food and drinks.  “Long line, and I had to stop by and say
hi
to Dan.”

“Old Dan?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, he was making some shell necklaces.”  He pulled the one Dan had given him out of the pocket of his baggy cargo shorts and tossed it toward Kelly who reacted instinctively and caught it. 

“This is really pretty.”  Kelly examined the tiny conch-shaped shells, the twisty pointed ones that looked like unicorn horns, round pearly snail-like shells and fan-shaped clam shells.  This area was known for its abundance of different kinds of seashells, and Dan had clearly taken his time to select the ones that were beautifully shaped, uniformly sized and colorful with all shades of pinks and purples on their interior curves.  They either already had small holes that he’d used to string onto the fishing line or he had found a way to drill one in each. 

“Keep it,” Austin said. 

“No, I’m sure you have someone else . . .”

“It’s my welcome-to-Florida gift to you.  Actually, it’s more from Dan than me.”

Kelly hesitated, but she really liked it, and Austin seemed to be sincere.  “Thanks.”  She slipped it over her head and admired how it looked against her tanned skin.  She knew there were no hidden meanings in Austin’s gift, but she was touched by the gesture anyway.  Distracted, she didn’t notice the flaming barbs that were shooting from Zoey’s eyes. 

Neither did Austin nor Scott who were busy unwrapping their hot dogs and not giving the necklace or its implied significance a second thought.  Zoey sank gracefully to the rug, choosing a spot between the two boys and with her back to Kelly. 

The next few minutes were spent with all of them passing around the ketchup and mustard packets and napkins and gobbling down their hot dogs and chips. 

“I thought you hated the beach,” Zoey said to Scott.

Scott was a little surprised that Zoey had remembered such a small detail about him.  “It’s the sunburn and the sand that I hate.  I actually like the water.”

Zoey shivered.  “Sea water kind of creeps me out.  There are
creatures
down there that I can’t see.  I stepped on a crab once, and he nearly
bit
off my toe.”

“Really?” Austin challenged.

“It bled like
crazy
, and I almost lost my toenail,” she defended her claim. 

Kelly wadded up her paper and stuffed it into one of the bags.  “Paper trash in this bag, cans in the other.”  She passed them around, and everyone obediently divided their garbage accordingly. 

“So what did you guys find out this morning at the library? Is Wendy alive?” Zoey asked, referring to the sixteen year old girl they had travelled back to help.

“There wasn’t a lot about Wendy other than what we read in the newspaper saying that she was rescued and was doing well,” Scott told her, referring to the article they had read in the coffee shop yesterday morning . . . in 1966.

“I think the most important thing was that there was no obituary,” Kelly interrupted enthusiastically.  “And then we looked in that old yearbook we found in my aunt’s garage.  There wasn’t an
In Memoriam
page, and there were pictures of her graduating with her class.”

“We tried to find her in the phone book and on the internet, but she must have gotten married and changed her last name,” Scott added.

“But what about her parents?  Were they still there?” Zoey had spent several hours at Wendy’s house and the two girls had bonded over their cheerleading experience and, of course, boys.  Zoey was truly concerned about her new friend’s well-being. 

“We drove by her parents’ house, but they must have moved long ago because that whole neighborhood has been redeveloped into a community center,” Scott explained.

“What about Coach Decker?” she asked.

“You mean
Inmate
Decker,” Kelly corrected.  “They found out Wendy was almost victim number ten for him.  He had been kidnapping and killing girls since he was a teenager.  They sent him to Starke Prison, but he didn’t make it but a couple of months after his conviction.  Prisoners don’t treat pedophiles very well.”