Chapter 30

saturday-Sunday, June 2-3

We quickly got into our routine of serving our patrons in the cabanas. Being a Saturday, they were all occupied. Even Arlene was there by 11 a.m., charming Quinton from the start.

It was hard to believe this was only our third day doing this (fourth for me and Jed). The guys were working like a well-oiled machine, which shouldn’t have surprised me since they were able to execute intricate blocking assignments without getting in each other’s way.

My one worry was when the cheerleaders returned. It’s not that they caused trouble, made a mess or were rude to the guys — quite the opposite, in fact — it’s just that they nearly wiped out our stock of Diet Coke in one afternoon on Friday. If they consumed as much today, we might not have any left for Sunday. We’d just have to cross our fingers and hope for the best.

Lloyd was quick to volunteer to join Andrew in attending the girls, while I tried to keep up with the family in the neighboring cabana in addition to my roving duties.

As with Friday, we were busy from the start and it wasn’t going to slow down any time soon. The guys were able to keep up without overextending themselves, taking frequent water breaks as the temperature crept into the upper 90s with high humidity to boot.

The guys quickly settled into a pattern. We were taking orders to our new window at the snack bar, which seemed to greatly ease congestion at the front. Patrons seemed more comfortable with the crew, asking them for more personal attention such as the application of sunscreen to adults and teens in addition to squirmy kids.

About 1 p.m., I started my program of replacing each crew member so they could take a break and eat. Things were going swimmingly until the frat boys showed up.

I didn’t recognize any of the trio. They were obviously a few years older than me and obviously full of themselves. It was as if central casting had sent out a call for douchebags — frosted tips, little chin whiskers, matching tattoos of their fraternity’s Greek letters. They looked like they had once been in shape before four years of beer bashes and all-nighters took a toll.

They quickly took up with the cheerleaders, who seemed to be less than impressed.

I was delivering an order to the neighboring cabana when I heard a scream and saw Andrew and Lloyd getting in the face of what looked like the lead frat boy. Lifeguards started blowing whistles and the rest of the cabana crew began moving our direction.

I stepped forward to find out just what was going on. One of the cheerleaders had an arm wrapped over her naked chest as her squadmates tried to help her cover up with a towel. I had no idea what happened to her bikini top.

“The little tease was asking for it,” Douchebag No. 1 shouted as I stepped into the confrontation.

“Let’s stay calm,” I said. “Maybe we can work this out without any trouble. What happened?”

“These guys have been hitting on us since they got here,” the head cheerleader said. “Staci was on her stomach and had her top undone. This one threw some ice on her back and grabbed her top when she raised up.”

“The bitch is lying,” the douchebag said. “I never touched the girl.”

“Settle down,” I said. “She didn’t say you touched anyone. We’ll take care of this.”

I turned to Andrew.

“Go get Mr. Alvarez,” I said.

“Fuck this shit!” the frat boy shouted.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the pool deck with my head ringing and the taste of blood in my mouth. The son of a bitch had sucker punched me.

It turned out to be almost as big a mistake as stealing Staci’s bikini top.

There were suddenly three very large, very angry young men latched on to the douchebag, forcing him face-down on the deck. The rest of the cabana attendants were busy convincing his frat brothers that they really did not want to be involved in this shit.

“Lemme go!” the douchebag yelled as I pulled myself to my feet. “Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is? What he’ll do to you?”

“I know exactly who your father is, Aaron,” Arlene Jenson said, stepping in to save the day yet again. “And I know what he told you the last time he had to bail your ass out.

“You’re facing sexual assault for what you did to Staci and assault and battery for punching Gary. Nice job of picking the smallest guy in the bunch, by the way. If your dad can keep you out of jail this time, maybe the Army or Marines will straighten you out.”

“You fucking slut,” Aaron screamed. “You just used him to get his money, just like the little tramp he dumped your skanky ass for.”

Mr. Alvarez arrived at that moment to ask just what the hell was going on. Thankfully, Arlene again recited the events that led to members of the cabana crew forcibly subduing a patron.

“Who is this guy?” Mr. Alvarez asked.

“Aaron Jenson,” Arlene said. “My stepson.”

I was still woozy as Jed helped me to a seat. One of the lifeguards was dabbing at my face with a towel, blotting up blood and trying to get me to hold steady to look into my eyes.

“Gary,” I heard Mom say. “Are you all right, Honey?”

“I think so,” I said. “Do I still have all my teeth?”

“You’ve got a split lip and knot on the head, but no other visible damage,” the lifeguard said. “Try to follow my finger.”

I watched the digit move back and forth, apparently well enough to pass the rudimentary test.

“I don’t think he has a concussion,” the lifeguard said, “but his head hit the pool deck pretty hard. You might ought to get him checked out.”

Jed handed me a couple of Tylenol and a bottle of water, which I quickly consumed.

As my head began to clear, I took a look at the crowd gathered around. In addition to Mom, Jed and the lifeguard, Arlene, the cheerleaders and the rest of the cabana crew were there. Mr. Alvarez and the frat boys were nowhere to be seen.

“Is everything under control?” I asked.

“For the moment,” Mom said. “Bob has the three college boys in his office waiting for the police.”

I think it was an indication of my mental state that it took me a couple of seconds to understand she was referring to Robert Alvarez and not Battery Operated Boyfriend. The throbbing headache didn’t help matters.

“I’m taking you to the emergency room just to make sure,” Mom said. “You’re done for the day.”

I at least had the presence of mind to pull out the tips I’d received and handed the money to Jed.

“Make sure to take out 20 percent for the snack bar,” I said. At that point, I think math was beyond me.

Jed helped me back to my feet. I stayed still for a bit to make sure I had my balance. Before I could leave, Staci, now covered in a T-shirt, came up to me.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

“For what? All I did was fall down and go boom. Thank these guys,” I said, indicating the rest of the crew. “They’re the ones that got things under control.”