Читать книгу A Place Called Paradise - Honey Perkel - Страница 10

Behind The Gull Cottage Motel was Tillamook Head, a jutting land mass covered with forest and a lighthouse a mile from the Point. The surf pounded as it entered the curved inlet and crashed upon the rough pilings. Surfers in black rubber wetsuits rode the ocean’s wave. Beyond, the sea stretched blue and sparkling in the early morning sun.

Lulu knew that Surfer’s Cove was Bernard’s playground, where he spent so much of his time before and after his early death some sixty years ago. She looked for him now as she stood at the cove’s edge. But, she didn’t see him.

On the narrow strip of green grass, which ran the length of the six cottages, a young girl was feeding a fat seagull. She looked up and gave Lulu a big smile and a wave.

Lulu waved back. “Hi, there. Is that your seagull?”

“No, of course not, but it might as well be mine. It’s come here every day for the past two weeks. I’ve named it Florence.”

“How do you know it’s a female?”

“I know that the speckled ones are female and the gray and white ones are male.” The girl squinted in the bright sunlight. “This is a Western gull. It can live twenty or twenty-five years and sleeps in ground nests. And even though it’s a male, I’m going to call him Florence.” Her voice was loud in order to be heard above the roar of the ocean.

A male seagull named Florence. Well, certainly stranger things were happening in Seaside, Lulu thought.

The girl moved towards Lulu, giving her full attention to the peculiarly dressed, heavy woman.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Lulu Bean.” Lulu eyed the girl. She was about nine-years-old and dressed in purple from the polka-dotted tennis shoes on her feet up to the hair ribbons in her long, red curly hair. She had a turned-up nose, big brown eyes, and a mass of freckles. A pretty child in an odd sort of way.

“Is that a nickname?” the girl was asking.

“Yes. My given name is Lucille.”

The girl took some time to think this over. “It’s a funny name. Why do you have that orange stuff in your hair?”

Lulu laughed. “Because I like it. And who are you?”

“I’m Halley Bee Rice. I’m here with my mother for the entire summer. She’s deaf.”

“Hi, Halley Bee Rice. It’s great that you’re staying so long!”

“Where are you from? Did you bring a pet?”

Lulu laughed again. She liked Halley Bee, though too much of her at any one time might be exhausting.

“I’m from Cincinnati, Ohio. I have a black cat by the name of Spirit with me.”

Halley thought about this. “‘Spirit’. Cool. I have my cat, Buckley, with me. He’s nine. Same age as me.”

Halley watched Lulu closely. She stuffed her small hands into the deep pockets of her purple shorts and began to rock to and fro on her heels.

Lulu was intrigued by the way the girl was looking at her — kind of like she was seeing into her or maybe through her.

“I was just about to walk downtown and ...”

“No, thanks,” Halley interrupted, knowing what Lulu was about to say. “I don’t eat sweets. Too much sugar.”

How did the girl know Lulu was going to ask her about getting a donut?

“Well, I guess it’s better if you don’t, but I would die if I didn’t get my sugar fix every day.”

“That’s just an expression people use. You know you wouldn’t die if you didn’t eat sugar. You’re just addicted to it,” Halley explained, matter-of-factly.

There was something about Halley Bee Rice that was refreshing in an odd sort of way. She was honest, a girl who knew her own mind. Halley was an old soul, perhaps wiser than her years. Perhaps wiser than Lulu, herself.

“Of course, you’re right,” Lulu uttered, suddenly feeling foolish. She sucked in her stomach self-consciously.

“Have you met anyone else here?” Halley inquired.

“No. I just arrived last night.”

“Well, Mama, Buckley, and I are staying in cottage number five. A woman checked into number four two days ago. No one has seen her. Cottage number three was vacant as of this morning, but won’t be for long because all the motels fill up this time of year. Tourists, you know. Nature of the beast. Bennet Dunzer and Michael Matson are in cottage number two. They’re very nice. George and Iva Bacon are in cottage number one. They’re also very nice, and they’re old. Sometimes Mrs. Bacon is funny. Not funny ha-ha, but funny peculiar. She calls me her little ‘Cupcake.’ Let’s get real, Lucille, do I look like a cupcake? I mean, do I?” The girl posed her hands on her small hips, waiting for an answer.

If the truth be known, Lulu did think the girl looked like a cupcake, dressed in a purple fluted paper liner with grape frosting and sprinkles on top.

“I know why you’re here.”

Startled by Halley’s words, Lulu wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Why am I here?”

“For the same reason we all are.”

Lulu thought for a moment. Bernard had told her he was inviting other people to come to the coast. Individuals who would make up a team. Were those the people she was talking about? Were they staying at The Gull Cottage Motel, too?

“He wants us all to help get the bad guy.”

“Who’s he?” Lulu cautiously asked, suspecting that Halley had also been summoned by Bernard.

“Lucille, you know.”

“And who’s the bad guy?” Lulu asked.

“Not sure. I’m working on it. But I think he’s close by.”

This nine year old was working on it? What did that mean?

Lulu stepped closer to Halley and asked, “What did you think of the storm last night? Did you get scared, Halley Bee?”

“Didn’t notice any storm last night,” the girl replied, her eyes suddenly averting Lulu’s. “I would’ve known if there’d been one.”

“Didn’t notice a storm? Oh, yes ... yes, there was a storm. Around midnight,” Lulu insisted. “Well, maybe you slept through it.”

“I don’t sleep.” The girl stated emphatically.

“Oh, well …” Lulu had no doubt there was a sudden storm last night. The entire cottage had quivered with the force of the wind and rain. Either the girl had slept through it, or she was lying her purple little head off.

Filled with renewed enthusiasm, Halley asked, “May I come in and see your cat?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Give me a sec, and I’ll grab Buckley. He loves to socialize!”