Chapter 16

"Was she pretty?"

"Was who pretty?" I asked, startled. I'd been sitting in the gazebo, watching the fish pond. I hadn't been thinking about anything in particular. Robbie and I had gotten back fifteen minutes ago. She and the others were inside getting the grand tour. I was enjoying this little piece of sculpted nature.

"The girl who died," Cinnamon said as she down next to me.

I turned to look at her. "How did... ? Who... ? Tami told you."

Cinnamon smiled, and I knew that Tami hadn't. "Was she pretty?" Cinnamon asked again.

I looked back at the fish pond and sighed. "She was beautiful."

"What was her name?"

I looked back at Cousin Cinnamon. "You mean you don't already know?"

Cinnamon laughed. "I can't read minds, you know."

"Could have fooled me. Tami can. Maybe she can teach you."

One of Cinnamon's eyebrows inched higher. Somewhere in the back of her mind was a dossier labeled, SIMS, ANTHONY. And she'd just made a notation that 'Subject believes his girlfriend reads his mind.' I had a feeling there was another notation, 'Fact or paranoid delusion, question mark.'

I smiled to myself and focused on the pond again. "Her name was Zoe, and she was a very special lady."

"She must have been," Cinnamon agreed quietly. I barely heard her as I pictured my lost friend. "Do you... ?"

I sighed again. Everybody wanted me to talk about Zoe. It got so old. She was here, but now she's gone. What more is there to say? But as I sat there staring into the light blue-green water of the pond, I discovered that I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to tell Cinnamon about this girl.

I started with my first impressions. Zoe was too loud, too brash, too New Yawk. But as I'd gotten to know her, I learned how much was veneer and what the real girl was like. I described finding out from Mikee that Zoe was sick. I told her about saying goodbye to Tami and starting my relationship with Zo. And even though she was only thirteen, or almost fourteen, I corrected myself, I knew she understood what I'd done and why I'd done it.

Ghost came over, his toenails clicking on the wooden floor of the gazebo. He jumped lightly onto the bench we were sitting on and lay down, his head in my lap. I scratched his ears and told Cinnamon about the first time I'd made love to Zo. It might seem weird, a sixteen-year-old telling his younger cousin about one of his sexual conquests, but somehow, with Cinnamon, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

As I started talking about that last week, Cinnamon leaned against me, her head on my shoulder, and my arm went around her. I told her about the hospital, and Zoe slipping back into her coma, and her hand slipping from mine. And about the doctors who decided there was no hope and let her go.

"You still love her," Cinnamon said. Not a question, just a simple statement of fact.

"I'll always love her."

I told Cinnamon about Tami finding me at the playground and how she helped me find myself again.

"You and Tami have something very special."

I grinned at the fish-ees in their pond. "Almost as special as your friend, I mean your sister, Wynter and Jimmy."

"Almost," she agreed.

We sat for several minutes, each with our own thoughts. Then Cinnamon and Ghost both seemed to perk up at the same time. "Daddy's home," she announced.

I glared across the table at Traci. She dropped her eyes and studied her smashed potatoes. Next to her, Kelly did the same before I could shift my glare to her.

The table was crowded with my seven, my two second cousins, my first cousin once removed Dr. Mitch, and Rosita, but despite a few banged elbows, dinner progressed. I couldn't tell for sure with the tablecloth, but it looked like one of those tables you could add leaves to, to make bigger. I guessed Rosita hadn't, to make it cozy. It had surprised me when Rosita joined us, but I was beginning to get the idea that she was more than a housekeeper. Mitch seemed almost affectionate toward her and Cinnamon treated her like a real mother, which for the mother of a teenager is a lot like being a maid slash housekeeper anyway. I wondered what the story was on Cinnamon's real, make that biological, mother. I wasn't going to ask, though my ears would perk up if one of the girls did.

My other surprise was dinner. I expected Mexican. Definitely not my favorite, but on the plus side, probably the second easiest cuisine, next to Chinese, to whip up in a hurry when you have seven extra dinner guests. I think the thing I hate about Mexican the most is the tendency to smother good food in that gooey brown paste called refried beans. My personal theory is that it was the introduction of frying and refried beans that doomed the Aztec Empire. Cortez and smallpox just hurried it along.

But no refried beans. In fact, no Mexican. Rosita instantly became one of my favorite people, serving one of my all-time favorites, Chicken Kiev, topping that off with garlic smashed potatoes, corn, and what I assumed was homemade bread. If the doc doesn't marry her, I may; then we can adopt Tami and live happily and plumply ever after.

I leaned back in my chair and grinned at the host. If I'd been wearing a belt, I'd have uncinched it at least two notches. Mitch seemed like a nice guy, but sure didn't look like a doctor. He had red hair like Jimmy's, and, in fact, I had an image of him and Jimmy hosting a Saturday morning cartoon show together.

Mitch had seemed to take it in stride when he walked in his house and found the living room filled with teenagers. I had a feeling that with Cinnamon in the family, taking things in stride was a survival trait.

He looked to Cinnamon for an explanation, but it was Hailey who blurted out, "We have new cousins!" A slight look of annoyance crossed Cinnamon's face, and I wondered if Hailey was getting a spanking tonight. I had no trouble picturing Cinnamon putting her slightly larger cousin across her knees. I also had no trouble getting a boner from the image.

Cinnamon filled him in on the family connections, and Mitch smiled big when she mentioned Gran Vickie. Seems Gran had sent a small Japanese jade carving as a wedding gift, which Cousin Gwendolyn promptly boxed and put away. I was guessing that the Colonel had been stationed in Japan at the time and probably wasn't a colonel yet. After we'd all been introduced, he even gave me one of his cards, which is when I learned it was Brees, not Breeze.

After we'd talked for awhile, I shanghaied Hailey to walk me over to Kenny's house to collect the girls. She kept an arm around me, squeezing me tightly to her side so that I wouldn't wander off and get lost. She led me to the front door, and we knocked. Another housekeeper answered the door. This one Hailey introduced as Mrs. Holland.

"Hi. Kenny brought my sister and her friend over to see some of Wynter's cartoons. I need to collect them for dinner," I explained.

Mrs. Holland smiled. "They're upstairs. In Kenny's room. Probably drawing and coloring."

Drawing and coloring? Then I smiled and nodded. I figured that Mrs. Holland was one of those people who lumps everybody under a certain age in one category: kid. And kids do kid things. I wondered if I was in that category, too, but really didn't want to know.

"Thanks," Hailey said. "I know the way."

"Yes, dear, I know," Mrs. Holland chuckled. She reminded me of my third grade teacher.

Hailey led me upstairs to a closed door. Loud music was coming from behind it. Britney Spears, I think. I lifted my arm to knock, but Hailey opened the door and walked in.

Kenny was sitting on the edge of the bed with what looked like one of Wynter's cartoons in his hand. Of course, the fact that he was naked detracted from what could have been an innocent scene.

Traci was kneeling naked on the floor to his left and had her mouth full of his cock. Kelly was in her bikini bottoms and was similarly occupied with his balls from the other side. Kenny's head was back and his eyes were closed, and it didn't take much imagination to realize that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

For a second I occupied myself with an image of throwing Kenny out the window, wondering if I'd get more bounces throwing him out on his head or his ass.

"Hey! You, like, started without me!" Hailey accused.

Traci and Kelly's heads snapped in our direction. Kenny's eyes opened, and from the look of pain that crossed his face, I guessed that one or more of the girls hadn't disengaged without some teeth getting in the way. I hoped it was Traci.

"Oh, shit," Kenny snapped.

"It's dinner time. Get dressed," I said coldly.

Both girls were appropriately red-faced, though I didn't want to know if it was the exertion or embarrassment.

I stared at Kenny as the girls dressed. He looked... defiant. Hell, his little corn stalk hadn't even wilted despite the teeth. "Downstairs! Wait for me," I ordered without taking my eyes off Kenny after the girls were covered. "You too," I added for Hailey's benefit.

I kept staring after we were alone. I wondered how difficult it would be to detach his little corn stalk and feed it to him. Then I admitted to myself that short stuff hadn't done anything I hadn't done, or at least wanted to.

I smiled. "Nice to have met you Kenneth." I closed the door behind me. Hell, at least it might keep him guessing.

I speared a last piece of chicken with my fork and used it to mop up the last of my potatoes, then popped it into my mouth. I wondered if Rosita had any cute daughters she'd taught to cook.

"Ladies," I said looking across the table at my two guilty-looking companions, "if you're done with dinner, say thanks and go wait by the van." The two girls glanced at each other, stood, mumbled something that could have been 'thank you, ' and left.

My other four followed suit one-by-one. I stood. "Rosita that was wonderful." She smiled. "I, uh, we, hate to eat and run, but Tami says we need to be in Otter Park by six."

Rosita nodded her understanding.

"Cuz, I have a feeling that something is happening in the park tonight. You might want to stop by."

"Maybe we will," Cinnamon said with an interesting smile.

"Wait a minute, pickledick!" Hailey said, jumping to her feet. "You've so been treating your sister terribly, just cause you're mad. Cinnamon will..."

Pickledick again! "Cinnamon won't do anything," I said simply.

"She won't?" Hailey said, losing her head of steam.

I shook my head. "'Cause I'm not mad."

Cinnamon stood and put her arm around Hailey's shoulders. "It's just some brotherly torture," she explained. "How long?" she asked, looking at me again.

"Probably till we get to the park. A guy's got to have some fun."

I was wondering what Tami had gotten us into.

Otter Park was packed.

I guessed we were going big time.

The girls and I were sitting in a tent which served as a dressing room behind the stage. There were three other tents, I guessed for the other acts. The stage was kinda neat. It was probably forty feet wide and thirty deep and was covered by a concrete half-dome. It was going to be like singing in the Hollywood Bowl, except there were no seats, just grass. Acres and acres of grass. And people.

Lets see, there five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in a mile. So square that for a square mile, that's, uh, twenty-seven million eight hundred and seventy-eight thousand four hundred square feet. There's either six hundred and twenty or six hundred and forty acres in a square mile. I can never remember. I think it's six-forty. So divide all those square feet by six-forty and you get...

There should be Jeopardy music playing, or else smoke coming out my ears. Maybe both.

Forty-three thousand five hundred and sixty square feet in an acre.

If each one of those families out front take up a space about ten feet wide by ten feet deep, that's a hundred square feet. That's more than four hundred families an acre. Figure there's at least six acres worth of grass in front of the stage and that's...

I reminded myself that I don't get stage fright. Then I reminded myself again.

I got up and wandered out of the tent and into the left side wings. I knew the first act would be getting ready on the right. On stage, a group of guys were setting up their instruments. An average-looking man in a very loud jacket that had to be a joke stepped out in front holding a microphone.

"Tonight, Saturday, and Sunday, sixteen different bands and groups are here for only one purpose, to entertain you. And to earn your votes, so I guess that's two purposes." There was some polite laughter, which was probably more than the joke deserved.

"I'm your host Junior Arnold!" There was some scattered applause.

A girl about my age was watching the stage next to me. She was wearing a spangled midriff blouse and short, very short, skirt. I guessed she was one of the performers. "Whose the guy?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't live here. I think he's some local radio guy."

"Now our talent show is a little different," the guy continued. "First the prize. We could have offered hundreds of thousands of dollars, or a recording contract. Matching Ferrari's or maybe a trip around the world. But we decided to do something really special for our winners. They get to do an encore!" he yelled. This time the crowd laughed.

Traci came up beside me. I slipped my arm around her and gave her a quick hug.

"Our voting is different too. We're not going to use some old lame applause meter. And we're not going to have you call or text some eight hundred number like that upstart talent show on television." That got a few laughs as people recognized Idol. Even I chuckled. "We decided that in honor of the birth of our nation, we'd do things the American way. Cold Hard Cash."

He took a deep breath and continued his spiel. "During each group's performance, members of our high school sports teams will be circulating with donation cans. If you hate the music, drop in a dollar, if you love it, drop in a twenty. Or any amount in between. Cash, checks, money orders, the deed to your grandfather's silver mine, we take it all. If you want to donate by credit card, Don Middleton and his team from the Prospector's Bank are set up back by the statue of Jack Hargus, or you can call him at five five five two seven eight one. We'll tally the totals, and the group that raises the most money wins."

"And if you want to make any last minute votes, there are tables set up around the edges where members of the Griffin Middle School band will be happy to take your money... I mean your votes. Remember every penny, I mean vote, counts."

I saw maybe half-a-dozen card tables with American flags flying over them set up around the crowds. It looked like each table was manned by a couple of kids Traci's age and an adult, with four decorated coffee cans sitting on each table.

I suspected Cinnamon was putting us on by pretending she didn't know what was happening in the park. She'd said something about being in the school band. She was probably sitting at one of the tables, laughing at us.

"And when we get all your loot, er, donations, International Ski and Trail, the operators of Wizard's Basin, will not just match them but match them two for one for our local school-er-ship fund. I happen to know we have a lot of very smart kids coming up through the schools, even some future doctors, so be generous." I wondered if he knew Wynter or our future gynecologist, Kenny.

"Our goal tonight is ten thousand dollars, and we hope to have over thirty for the weekend. Don't forget, we have shows tomorrow at two and seven, with The Brink of Disaster in the second show, and a final show Sunday at five. And Monday, Colorado's favorite band, Stampede. will be playing before the fireworks. We hope you'll all come out."

He paused briefly while scattered whooping and cheering subsided.

"Tonight, we have Junior and the Twins!"

Obviously they were a popular local band because the crowd exploded. Junior finally had to quiet them down. "You keep that up and they won't have any time left to perform," he reminded them. I wondered if he was the Junior in the band. Probably not.

"From Denver, we have Defiant Sheep. All the way from Washington, Unrehearsed, and first up tonight, from Fort Collins, Taco Jones and the Enchiladas."

Junior rattled off the names of the performers and ran off the stage. The lights in the back of the stage came up. I got a good look at the group. Taco Jones was about forty and wearing a fringed cowboy suit that would have made Dale Evans blush, let alone Roy Rogers. His three enchiladas were thirty-something and dressed the same way. They were armed with two guitars and a drum set.

The less said about Taco Jones, the better. They played country. But it was old country, and I mean oooooold. They probably considered Conway Twitty an upstart. They played six songs, which was seven too many. The only one I recognized was Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin' which I'd heard Grandma Carol play a few times.

The Defiant Sheep were better. Five guys my age on the instruments and two very decorative girls on tambourines, including the girl I'd talked to earlier. They were hard rock, which isn't really my thing, and pretty good.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Defiant Sheep!" Junior Arnold announced running back on the stage. The lights dimmed on the stage and the sheep started moving off their equipment. "I'd like to take a moment to remind you that there are vendors wandering around selling pop, popcorn, and ice cream. The ice cream has been donated by the Elk Crossing Dairy Group. Silver Mountain Bottling Company has donated the pop, and the popcorn is fresh from the Aspenleaf Triplex. A quick thought: if you fill your kids up with junk now, you won't have cook dinner when you take them home." That brought Junior his best laugh of the night.

"As many of you know, inflation is hitting the country hard. So hard, in fact, that bus companies have raised their fares so high that Unrehearsed had to leave their instruments and instrumentalists behind. I'll announce their names as they perform. From Seattle, Washington, Unrehearsed! Leading off: Robbie Tate!"

Robbie started the show with Bridge over Troubled Waters, then Mikee did Someone to Watch Over Me. When it was my turn, I jumped off the stage, grabbed a slightly plump little girl about Traci's age, pulled her back to the stage with me, and sang her Your Song.

"What's your name?" I asked when I finished.

"Alyssa Erland," she said, though even with my holding the microphone in front of her, I doubt anyone but me heard her.

"Thanks for being part of the act," I said and kissed her on the cheek before she ran back to her family.

As I walked to the wings, Tami gave me her best glare, which was not very intimidating, to be honest. "I thought that was my song."

"Not any more. Now my heart belongs to Alyssa."

Tami cocked her fist and it shot out toward my shoulder, but I was ready. I grabbed her wrist, then snagged the other and twisted her around as I pulled her close, ending in what I've always called the straight jacket. Tami, with her back against me, her arms pulled across her body just below her tits, and me holding both wrists, was immobilized. I nuzzled her neck. "Alyssa may have been on stage, but I was singing to a girl from the trailer park."

"Ummmm," Tami moaned as I nibbled and kissed along the side of her neck. "Probably Kelly."

"You know me so well," I agreed.

"Hey, I have to at least pretend to get jealous now and then."

I didn't answer. I just kept kissing her neck.

"Get a room," Robbie suggested, shaking her head. I grinned and ignored her.

Traci kicked it up a notch with Jailhouse Rock and had most of the crowd up and dancing. Near the front, just below the stage, a pair of seven or eight-year-old twins were doing a twist that would have made both Elvis and Chubby Checker proud.

Robbie and I did our If You See Him/If You See Her, and then Traci came back with Climb Every Mountain.

I was glad that Tami had actually given us a program tonight so that we knew what we were singing before the music actually started. It made things easier. For my second song, we'd set up a stool in the center of the stage, and I sat on it. A single spot came up, with a dark red gel. "A few months ago, we lost a very special friend. This is for her."

I watched Tami in the wings and waited for her cue like we'd practiced.

"Sarabeth is scared to death..." I started.

At the sound board, Tami slowly brought up the music behind me.

I started the chorus,

"She dreams she's dancing..."

A boy in a suit and baseball cap and a girl in a party dress suddenly started waltzing from the wings in front of me. I almost lost it when I realized that the boy was Darlene and the girl was Kelly.

"Around and around without any cares.

And her very first love is holding her close,

And the soft wind is blowing her hair."

They waltzed off as I started the next verse, but were back for the next chorus. They actually made a pretty cute couple. This time they didn't dance off stage, but stopped over by the side as I started the third verse. A spot with a blue gel held them.

"It's a quarter of seven,

That boy's at the door,

And her daddy ushers him in.

When he takes off his cap,

They all start to cry,

'Cause this morning where his hair had been,

Softly she touches just skin."

As I sang, Darlene pulled off her cap. She was wearing a skin cap over her hair to look bald. I smiled to myself as they started dancing again.

"They go dancing...

Around and around without any cares

And her very first true love is holding her close

And the soft wind is blowing her hair."

"For a moment she isn't scared."

The lights went down and the stage was in darkness. Then they projected an American flag on the back wall, which also projected some of the stripes on me. The stage had a cool light and sound system, and Tami had evidently talked to them about staging, though why they got to know ahead of time and I...

Okay, I'm letting it go.

The music started with a heavy violin.

"Well, the eagle's been flying slow,

And the flag's been flying low.