“I know just what to use.” Piper hurried back inside and headed for the employee bathroom. I followed her and watched her grab at a rope dangling from the ceiling. The tugging swelled the outlines of her beanstalk tattoo and made the plant look like it had received a hearty helping of fertilizer. Down came the ladder to the creepy Stack attic.
When the Stack was built, it was meant only to serve as a summer eatery. There was no original attic since there was no need for insulation if the pipes were properly drained before cold weather. The restaurant was open all the way to the curved underside of the roof. The people Piper had bought the place from had converted it to a year-round business by dropping in a ceiling and adding insulation. The townspeople got a year-round eatery, and Piper got a place to store everything that didn’t fit in her camper. I mounted the creaking stairs behind her, wondering what she could possibly have up there that could be used.
She pulled on a string that looked like the malnourished younger brother of the rope hanging from the stairs and tugged on the light. The bulb was as pikerish as Scrooge with his piggy bank.
“Aren’t you worried about mice or even squirrels?”
“What do you think all those boxes of Mouse Be Gone are for?” Piper gestured impatiently around the attic at some paper cartons and then reached for a large, cardboard box.
“Here it is. Just what we need.” She spun around, clutching a ropy mass.
“What is it?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.
“My hammock. You know the one I hang out in front of the camper all summer and tell myself I’ll get to use one day when things slow down around here?”
“I love that thing. I go over to your place and use it when I know you’re working a double shift and won’t be able to.”
“Well, now I will be able to finally get some use out of it myself. It’s perfect, don’t you think?” Piper’s gleaming white gigantic smile glowed even in the low light.
“I guess if that’s what you want to do with it, it is your hammock.” I was a bit worried about my leisure time in the upcoming summer. What if by some miracle Piper managed to net the kangaroo with it and it struggled free, tearing a huge hole right through the side? Somehow I didn’t think it would be right to take it back to L.L.Bean and ask to use the money-back guarantee under the circumstances. And I didn’t think Piper would be inclined to lay out the cash for a new one since she never got time to use the original. All in all, the hammock seemed like it might be in danger, and there was little I could do to stop it. I felt the warm summer breezes and gentle swaying slipping away from me with each step she took toward the ladder and the back door of the Stack.
“Don’t you want to leave this to the professionals? The guy from Fish and Game seems like he knows what he’s doing. I think we should let him handle it.”
“I noticed you going over to talk to him just before the kangaroo stirred things up. He is pretty cute.” Piper winked one of her false-eyelashed eyes at me and blew me an air kiss so loud it filled the air between us with vibrations that would have rung a bell if there were one up in the attic.
“I hadn’t really noticed.” This lying thing was starting to get out of hand. If I kept it up, untruths would begin to cling to me like a second skin. I’d need to get one of those little voice-activated tape recorders to make memos of all the stories I was telling in order to keep them straight.
“Fortunately, I care about you enough to know when you just want me to coax something out of you. He was cute. You did notice. I saw you do your thing.” Piper tossed the hammock through the opening and began descending after it. “Turn off the light, would you?” Piper was scooping the hammock up and rushing toward the back door before I even hit the floor.
“What thing?” I wasn’t being coy. I had no idea what she was talking about. Piper is a great cardplayer, and every time she says someone does something unconsciously, I’ve noticed she’s right.
“You tip your head to one side so hard you scrape your ear on your shoulder. You’ve been doing it ever since the day Brice Dayton moved to town.”
“That was almost twenty years ago.” Why hadn’t she ever mentioned it before? Had anyone else ever noticed?
“At least you are consistent. Besides, it’s adorable. You look vulnerable and sweet.”
“Vulnerable and sweet?”
“Yeah, like a Pomeranian with an itchy ear.” A cold blast of air drove a ribbon of leaves and sand across the pavement toward us, but I was feeling heated up by my burning cheeks.