Bound for the Outer Banks (3 page)

BeBe and Melody saw tears dripping from Harmony’s cheeks as she stared blankly at the place where her father had just stood. BeBe knew offering to use some of her birthday and Christmas savings to purchase Harmony’s cheerleading uniform was useless. Harmony refused charity of any kind, even from the local church and certainly her best friend.

At that moment BeBe got an idea. The next Saturday BeBe told Harmony to wear a bikini under her clothes and pack her school bag with a lunch for them. BeBe told her they were heading to the large library in New Bern to do research for their big end of the year Social Studies project. Harmony asked, “What social studies project?”

“Just do it,” answered BeBe. Two hours later Hadley dropped off the girls at the steps of the library with their book satchels stuffed with what she assumed were text books and paper, and headed to the New Bern Senior Care Home to visit her grandmother. Hadley liked to stay fresh in her grandmother’s mind for inheritance purposes.

Harmony had yet to inquire about the cryptic demand from BeBe. “Come on,” said BeBe as she ran down the steps of the public library that they had just ascended while Hadley waved goodbye.

“Where are we going?” asked Harmony.

BeBe didn’t answer as she led the way down two city blocks to the five and dime store. She pulled a galvanized bucket from the shelf and shoved it at Harmony. She then took a double pack of large sponges from the shelf above it. “Come on.” BeBe led Harmony to another aisle and grabbed dishwashing liquid.

“What are you getting this for?” Harmony asked.

“Do you want to be a cheerleader or not?” asked BeBe.

“Of course,” said Harmony, “you know I do.”

“Exactly, that’s why you’re going to do what I say and not ask questions,” BeBe said with a sly smile.

The girls left with their purchases and BeBe led Harmony down a side street to an enormous apartment complex where she promptly removed a garden hose form her satchel. “This thing weighs a ton!” exclaimed BeBe.

Harmony looked at BeBe skeptically. “You had a garden hose in there?”

“Just listen,” said BeBe. BeBe then instructed Harmony to place their school bags behind the first apartment building at the edge of the woods. Harmony had learned not to question Blythe Beatty when she was damned and determined to do something and it was clear to Harmony that this was one of those times.

BeBe’s cousin Eileen had lived in this complex after she informed her mother that she was sick of learning and was not about to go through another four years of it. Her mother was horrified at her daughter’s decision not to go to college. Eileen got an apartment at the Bent Brook apartment complex and a job in a local diner where after about six months she met a naval officer she later married and with whom she was now traveling the world. Eileen would brag about the “amenities” of Bent Brook apartments which included a pool with a spigot where you had to wash your feet so as not to dirty up the pool before you got in.

BeBe screwed the garden hose on to the end of the spigot. “Take off your clothes,” she demanded, motioning to Harmony.

“What?!” asked Harmony completely bewildered at what was about to happen.

“Did you wear your bathing suit?” asked BeBe .

Harmony answered playfully, “Yes, as you instructed Master.”

BeBe smiled with relief that Harmony had followed her instructions, “You’d do well to trust and obey,” said BeBe citing and singing the old familiar hymn that the Manteo First Presbyterian choir director had the congregation sing three Sundays a month, minimum.

“That’s up for debate,” Harmony said snarkishly as she peeled off her jeans and T-shirt revealing a blue and green polka dotted bikini.

BeBe sprayed Harmony with a blast of water. Harmony screamed as the cold water hit her skin. “What are you doing BeBe?”

“Making you look sexy, although it’s a challenge,” BeBe said sarcastically.

Harmony demanded, “You need to tell me what’s going on!”

“Here comes a car…..YES! Navy guy!” BeBe exclaimed.

New Bern was home to a naval communication station and the Bent Brook apartment complex housed a large majority of the naval personnel. BeBe started jumping up and down spraying the hose up in the air over her head creating a fountain effect. “Car Wash! Two dollars!” she yelled toward the car.

The vehicle pulled up and the young man rolled down the window. “She could really use a wash, ladies.”

The handsome sailor got out of the car and leaned on the fence that enclosed the pool area. He smoked a cigarette while he watched BeBe and Harmony clean his small sports car. They playfully squirted one another with the hose and laughed and giggled noting they were being intensely observed. When they felt they had rinsed the car and themselves sufficiently the young man handed each one a dollar bill. “Now that’s the best wash she’s had in a while ladies.”

BeBe and Harmony looked down at the money and squealed with delight. BeBe snatched away Harmony’s dollar, folded the two together, and placed them securely in her bathing suit top. The customer raised his eyebrows, and while shaking his head got into his car and headed for his apartment.

BeBe shouted, “Eighteen dollars to go!”

“You’re brilliant!” yelled Harmony.

“Hey, we just have to use what the Good Lord gave us which isn’t much in your case,” BeBe said, staring Harmony’s perky but small breasts.

“You’re no Dolly Parton yourself,” replied Harmony.

“But I’m closer than you,” smirked BeBe .

Harmony sprayed BeBe with the hose just as another one of America’s finest rounded the entrance into Bent Brook.

Chapter 3

Ella was never told in advance where she was being relocated. Apparently the officers in charge of getting her to the new destination were never told either until they were in their vehicle. The Sacra Corona Unita’s reach was far and since bribery and corruption were their specialty, the feds were mum until the last minute in case one of the agents transporting Ella offered her up for a sum of money many times more than what they could earn in a lifetime of law enforcement.

After Ella and her big vintage suitcase were placed into the backseat of the black Dodge Charger, which was confiscated during a multi-million dollar cocaine bust, she rested her head on the back of the seat. She was used to seeing the officer divided into octagonal patterns caused by the steel mesh separating the front and back seats. Ella noticed that the sports car had been modified to be like a typical police cruiser in the back. The seats had been reupholstered with a hard plastic. She had deduced that this was due to the variety of human body fluids that so often ended up on them. She concluded that the backseat of the vehicle came from the factory much lower than the front seats like police cruisers since it was a sports car and backseat comfort was not really factored into the equation of performance.

She felt like her ass was sitting directly on the asphalt not just because of how low the seat was but also due to the hard synthetic covering which was pressing through her skin to her tailbone. Besides the fact that police cars were equipped with low slung backseats to prevent a suspect from lunging at the officer when the door was opened, Ella assumed there was a psychological component as well. Knowing you’ve been busted for whatever reason and now your captors seemed to be towering over you while you sit handcuffed with your knees under your chin must seem pretty demeaning. She laughed when she turned back and saw the raised trunk of the sports car looking clampettesque held down with bungee cords. The trunk held an aqua bicycle that she would use for transportation at her next destination. As if a blacked out Dodge Charger approaching a town wasn’t suspicious enough, the addition of a girlie bike complete with handlebar basket tied down in the trunk would surely have tongues wagging. Like her alias, Belle Butler, she wondered about these things thought up by men back at The Bureau in Washington.

Ella glanced over at the old brown Finnegan’s of London suitcase sitting on the seat beside her. The sight of it always comforted her when she was being hauled to another town trying to stay a step ahead of anyone trying to take her out before she testified against Dante and possibly incriminating even more of the higher ranking clan members. The suitcase had been given to Ella at her sweet sixteen party. When Ella opened it she was moved to tears because the vintage piece was her mother’s pride and joy.

When BeBe left Roanoke Island, North Carolina, she’d packed everything she held dear into “Old Finnegan”, the nickname she’d given the thick leather case. Whenever BeBe was reminiscing she’d often say, “Old Finnegan and I stayed there a while.” Old Finnegan was an old, box shaped case with scratches, moisture stains, and battered edges. Whenever Ella would plead with her mother to buy something to replace “that hideous, ugly thing,” BeBe would respond, “Finnegan’s not ugly, he’s just well-traveled like me.”

In its time the case would have been considered a status symbol. Finnegan’s of London was considered one of the finest makers of luxury cases in the early nineteen hundreds. BeBe’s grandmother had gifted it to her along with the advice, “Sugar, see the world before you get bogged down with a bunch of babies.”

Grandma Lavinia had always been candid to a fault. BeBe liked this in her grandmother although some people talked about Lavinia and her “acid comments.” One day when BeBe was twelve, she overheard some ladies in the reception hall at church talking about Lavinia and how “tactless” she could be. Blythe Beatty marched to the center of the circle the ladies had arranged themselves in and said, “My grandma might say what she thinks but at least she does it to everyone’s face. You ladies say the same things and worse. You just do it behind people’s backs. I would rather grow up and be tactless like my grandmother than just end up being a straight up bitch like you ladies.”

BeBe ran back up the stairs to the sanctuary to quickly ask God to forgive her for saying the “B” word, but she did not ask forgiveness for calling a spade a spade.

The day BeBe bestowed Finnegan to Ella had been one of the best days of Ella’s life. Joseph Barrantine had arranged for a horse-drawn carriage to pick up Ella in front of their Bushwick Avenue brownstone. Ella felt like a princess in her long teal chiffon dress as she mounted the side step of the carriage assisted by the driver in his dapper vest and knickers. As the carriage, with Ella and the two most important people in her life, approached Water Street she could see the lights of the River Café coming in to view. She gave her parents a broad smile since Saturday nights at the River Café had to be booked months in advance.

The River Café was enclosed in glass assuring everyone would have a stunning view. It was a small building nestled under the Brooklyn Bridge with sweeping views of the Manhattan skyline. Ella also loved the fact that one also had the perfect view of Lady Liberty.

The carriage came to a halt at the edge of the cobblestone courtyard in front of the café’s entrance. Little white lights were wrapped up and around the trees lining the courtyard. The driver hopped down from his perch on the red velvet driver’s bench and he extended his hand to Ella. He said in an accent Ella could not quite place, “I hope you have a most wonderful evening.” Then he lightly kissed the back of her hand and swung back up into the driver’s seat. Joseph and BeBe wrapped their arms around one another’s waists watching their only child gracefully stride through the lit courtyard like a princess attending her first royal ball.

At the end of the courtyard was a small arched bridge above the water also covered in tiny, white lights. Before Ella reached the large, arched wooden door, Joseph passed in front of her and opened the it. “My lady,” he said as he opened the door.

Ella smiled and immediately heard La Campanella being played by the live pianist in the main dining area. The host led the family to the private terrace room. When Ella entered the room everyone yelled, “Surprise!” She had assumed the evening was just going to be an intimate dinner with her parents but suddenly she was thrust into the center of a large group of people, some of whom she would only refer to as slight acquaintances. Later BeBe confessed that she wasn’t sure who she should invite and she’d hoped she’d done a good job.

Ella had no grandparents and very few relatives. Joseph Barrantine’s parents had died when Ella was small. Joseph had been a late in life child as Ella had been for Joseph. Unfortunately this was a lethal combination for having grandparents around for any length of time. Ella saw her second cousin Camille whom she had only met a hand full of times in her life. Camille had recently turned sixteen also but Ella had not been invited to her party. Ella assumed Camille’s mother had not been as desperate to put together a guest list as BeBe had been.

She spied a table of guests all from the National Honor Society community services project team. Sandy, Jacob, Ben, and Valerie were four of the nerdiest people Ella had ever met but they were truly nice. They had an antiquated Dungeons and Dragons board game that Jacob’s dad had from college that the group played religiously. After their Honor Society meetings they would plead with Ella to play but she always thought it was a little creepy and constantly came up with fairly believable excuses as to why she had to be home immediately following the meeting.

Ella had realized after sixteen years that she was too nerdy for the cool kids and too cool for the nerdy kids. She wasn’t into Goth, and although she was fit, she wasn’t terribly athletic and would never be considered a jock. It seemed that none of the niches really suited her. She considered herself to be fashion conscious, but she wasn’t fashion forward enough to be a member of the “scenes.” As for the “goodies”, Ella couldn’t make the cut. Ella considered herself a religious person, especially since she had attended both Synagogue and a Methodist church growing up. BeBe said Ella could figure out what she wanted spiritually later. Ella was apparently not quite good enough when she became close to Rachel a high ranking member of the “goodies.” While the two girls were sitting on the bleachers, Ella let the “F” bomb fly when a wasp stung her while they were listening to the coach lecture on the competition regulations of Badminton. Rachel quickly dismissed Ella from the group. Ella finally decided she was a “jack of all trades master of none” personality type. Surprisingly she found herself completely at ease with this little token of self-discovery.

As Ella continued to scan the room filled with distant relatives, all from her Dad’s side of the family since BeBe had severed all ties with hers, she was startled to see a table full of 1CB’s. 1CB was short for First Class Bitch. These were the popular girls that everyone hated but secretly wanted to be, at least everyone but Ella. She held no secret envy for these girls and avoided them at all costs. She wondered how in the world BeBe had thought to invite them. Later when Ella inquired about the composition of the guest list, BeBe told Ella that she called her homeroom teacher to get a list of kids she might like at her party. That explained a lot.

Mrs. Ritchey was a 1CB wannabe from the word go. She was forty three years old, and wore Abercrombie and Fitch T-shirts paired with colored skinny jeans. The unfortunate thing, besides the aforementioned ensemble, was that her belly button showed through the T-shirt fabric when pushed against it by her large muffin top.

Ella faintly smiled at Angelica Bundy, Brandy Berkowitz, and Emily Gacy, the girls that made up the 1CB contingent. They gave her halfhearted smiles in return surely wondering why they had been invited but attending nonetheless because after all, a free Saturday night at the River Café with your two besties was a coup.

The dinner began with an amuse-bouche of butternut squash cream and pumpkin seeds next to a venison jerky resting on top of mixed nuts. The appetizer was a wild rock lobster with hearts of palm. The chef at the River Café was considered one of the top ten chefs in all of New York City and that was apparent to Ella by each course placed in front of her. The entrée was a choice of Scottish Salmon with a port wine and shallot reduction or a Prime New York Strip Steak with a blue cheese fondue. A vegetarian alternative was offered but there were no takers. Ella was sure if Mrs. Ritchey had been an Emo type there would have been plenty of takers at her party.

After an array of desserts including an apple almond tart, a goat cheese cheesecake, and a sorbet plate, it was time to open gifts. One of the last gifts Ella opened was BeBe’s vintage Finnegan’s leather suitcase. Ella knew what the case meant to BeBe and tears began to well up in her eyes. Anjelica Bundy looked at the old piece of luggage with disgust and loudly whispered to Ella that her gift would “make up for that old thing.” Ella looked up and glared at Anjelica as if she were shooting laser beams from her eyes, hopefully magnified and intensified by the reservoir of tears. Ella ran her hand over the embossed oval Finnegan’s Limited brand and smiled. She was so very thankful she’d been able to share her sweet sixteen with her parents before they were prematurely taken from her.