Caught Read-Handed (15 page)

“Ophie and her friends popped in for a snack after their, er, excursion to Bowditch Point Park.” Bridgy got the message. We were both wishing there was a back door so she and Miguel could leave through the kitchen and never cross paths with the Guy Bradley contingent.

In the meantime, Miguel, totally oblivious to our panic, was rummaging in the refrigerator. “Here you go. I made a few dozen donuts for the morning. I could spare two or three. We can cut them in thirds.” He brought a platter to the counter. “We have fruit and cookies . . . What?”

The fact that Bridgy and I were rooted to the floor was not lost on him. Bridgy looked at me, but I backed away, saying, “She's your aunt.” And mentally I wished her good luck.

Miguel repeated his question, this time in Spanish.
“¿Qué pasa?
”

Bridgy gave a little nervous giggle. “It's Ophie . . . don't
get upset but she and her friends have joined an environmentalist group.”

When she stopped there, Miguel gave a “so what” shrug and patiently waited for the rest of the story.

Bridgy blurted out. “They're trying to save the green anaconda.”

Miguel was confused. “Save it from what? Is there a bigger predator in the waters?”

“Not that I know of.”

Bridgy was floundering, so I decided to go the direct route. “Ophie and her friends are opposed to the wildlife agencies killing the anaconda if it is captured alive.”

Miguel knitted his eyebrows, always a sign of deep thought, and then his brow straightened, decision made. “We'll see about that. You can feed the environmentalists. Bridgy and I are going to see Dr. Mays and help protect the pets living on the island.”

Bridgy looked at me, threw up her hands in confusion and hurried out the kitchen door behind him. I grabbed the platter Miguel had set on the counter. Of course he hadn't yet cut the donuts. I was reaching for a knife when the yelling started. Platter in one hand, knife in the other, I pushed through the kitchen door.

Miguel was speaking in the gentlemanly tone he always used. “I said the safety of all animals is important but sometimes predators need to be removed.”

Cordelia Ramer was directly in front of him and stabbing the air with her index finger. “You don't get to decide. No one can pick and choose which animals live and which animals are mercilessly killed.”

I wasn't worried about Miguel; he was always a gentleman
even in the worst of circumstances, but I wasn't so sure that the ladies would remain ladies.

Ophie stepped in between them. She adopted the wide stance, hands-on-hips body language that I always see on Bridgy when I annoy her. Ophie swung around to Cordelia. “Y'all have no cause to be insolent to my friend Miguel. His darlin' Bow is in danger and he has a right to be concerned. You apologize at once, hear? Well-mannered ladies do not use an abusive tone when speaking to a fine gentleman.”

Cordelia's shoulders hunched and she reared up like a horse who'd been spooked. Then she relaxed and turned away, not willing to apologize but not willing to fight, either.

Bridgy grabbed Miguel's arm and waved good-bye to me, and they headed off to the animal hospital.

I stood in the middle of the floor, a platter of donuts in one hand and a knife in the other. I decided to cut the donuts on the counter and leave the knife tucked safely out of the way of the environmentalists should another skirmish break out. As I was dividing the donuts into portion size I heard Mark say to George, “That Ophelia—she's something else.”

I smiled to myself. Ophie may have made a conquest.

I set out the donuts for the ladies, brought them a pitcher of sweet tea and went over to see if Mark and George wanted anything else. Mark shook his head. “No, we're going to find Owen and see what his vets group can do before Alan is formally arrested.”

I wished them luck and began my final cleaning of the day. Bridgy had finished the kitchen before she left and I had most of the dining room sparkling in very short order.

I listened as Ophie and her friends planned a trip to Ding Darling Refuge on our neighboring island of Sanibel. One
of my favorite places, Ding Darling is where I first heard the phrase “a park is for people, a refuge is for animals.” Whenever people visit a refuge, they are guests. It was a bit of a surprise to learn that open spaces had different purposes.

Miss Augusta Maddox waved me over and asked for her bottle of baby aspirin. I went behind the counter and pulled out her tiny orange and white bottle and Blondie Quinlin's bright green pill counter. “When are you going to Ding Darling?”

“Tomorrow,” Miss Augusta boomed. “Pretty place. Reminds me of the old days when these islands weren't so cluttered with houses and such.”

Blondie Quinlin tilted her head toward me. “Would you like to join us? Weather forecast is perfect.”

“When isn't it?” asked one of the ladies I'd never met. And five of the women laughed. Not Cordelia, though.

She rapped her knuckles on the table as if she were the teacher in a room filled with errant third graders. “This isn't a fun-filled romp we're planning. This is serious business.” Cordelia gave me an evil look. “You'd do better to stay at work where you belong.”

She heard the collective gasp of her colleagues and softened her tone immediately. “I meant to say, we are going to collect signatures on our ‘save the anaconda' petitions. We'll be busy.”

Ophie decided to move into passive-aggressive mode. “Sassy, honey chile, did you get me that Regina Mersky's cell number? I do so want to invite her to join us.”

I began rummaging through my pockets, came up with the scrap I'd torn from my order pad and written the number on. When I handed it to Ophie, her smile encompassed everyone at the table. “Y'all are going to love my new friend
when you meet her. Regina is the sweetest thing and I'm sure she could use a day in the fresh air.” That was a jab at Cordelia for sure.

Ophie scraped her chair along the floor and stood. “Well, it has been a lively afternoon. I'd better get on over to the Treasure Trove and check if I have any messages. My clientele is quite demanding.” She tossed a careless wave around the table and when she reached the door, she turned to me. “I bet Regina's sister-in-law would like to join us, too.” And she sashayed out the door knowing she'd stuck another pin in her Cordelia doll.

The rest of the ladies began organizing themselves while Cordelia reasserted her authority, reminding them what time and where to meet in the morning and assuring them that she would have plenty of pens and clipboards for their petition drive. Miss Augusta Maddox walked over to me and in an uncharacteristically warm gesture took my hand. “Miguel is worried about Bow? Delia's Bow.”

I nodded.

She squeezed my hand. “Well then I get his point. I truly do. Just don't like upsetting the natural order of things is all. Don't want the snake killed.”

And she turned and followed the other ladies out the door.

I locked the door and began to clean off the tables where Ophie and her friends had planned their next venture. I pushed Robert Frost back into its proper place, scrubbed the tables and chairs and swept the floor. The whole time I was thinking about Augusta's comment. I'd always heard that a green anaconda was the biggest snake in the world, bigger even than pythons. So how did a snake like that fit in the natural order of things in southwest Florida?

I finished the cleanup, tossed my apron in the laundry, turned out the lights and locked up. I was in the Heap-a-Jeep when I realized that I could have my snake questions answered in a jiffy. I headed south on Estero Boulevard to visit Dr. Mays.

The parking lot was nearly as crowded as it had been the last time I was here. I was happy to see Miguel's SUV. If he was still here, I would get to visit with Bow. I was deeply disappointed that Bow couldn't come to live with Bridgy and me. But she is an indoor-outdoor cat and would never have adjusted to life in a fifth-floor apartment. Still, if I couldn't have her for a roomie, I was glad Bow had a happy home with Miguel. Of course the fact that he lived on the edge of the bay was a real problem now that the big snake was swimming around.

Cynthia Mays was one of the most organized women I'd ever met, and her assistant, Inga, was unflappable. The waiting room was crowded but peaceful. Bridgy came through the back door, carrying an adorable puppy. He reminded me of Sweetie, the Jack Russell terrier we had when I was in grammar school. If the brown circle around his right eye had been a little larger, they could have been twins.

“Sassy, meet Denny. Isn't he adorable? He's only five months old.”

Our Sweetie loved to be petted on the top of her head right between her ears, so I gave Denny a gentle rub, and he rolled his head from side to side to keep contact with my hand. I could swear he gave me a smile.

I half hoped he was looking for a home, but Bridgy said that his owner was on her way to pick him up.

“How is the sheltering working out?”

Bridgy shrugged. “Inga would know. She keeps strict
track because the animals who are here to be sheltered while their owners are at work can't be housed with the animals who are here because they're sick.”

Made sense.

All of a sudden, Denny tried to wiggle out of Bridgy's arms. A middle-aged woman dressed in pink hospital scrubs opened the front door and before she was completely inside, Denny was panting and wagging his tail joyfully.

Bridgy started to laugh. “Hold on, sweetheart. Is that your mama?”

The woman waved to Inga and then took Denny in her arms. She nuzzled him and gave him a tiny treat. She looked at Bridgy and said, “Thanks so much for volunteering. I felt so much better knowing if the snake came ashore near my house, I wouldn't have to worry.”

Bridgy's cheeks pinked just a little. “I had fun. We even had a chance to play with his tug rope. He's a strong little fella.”

The woman smiled her thanks and then went to the desk so she could sign the pup out on Inga's forms. As she left she waved a cheery good-bye and called out, “See you again.”

“Where's Miguel?”

“Oh, he's helping with the cats. I think Bow gets a wee bit jealous when she sees Miguel get too close to another cat.”

I asked, “How many animals come in for shelter?”

Bridgy thought for a minute. “Inga told me that today we have four dogs and seven cats. The number varies, depending on need. Remember Mr. Gerrity, Miguel's neighbor? According to Miguel, he only came in the one time because that day he had plans and didn't want to leave Tess alone. I'm sure there are one or two other pets that are here for a few hours once or twice. The rest are here because their humans have to be at
work.” She lowered her voice. “I hope this is very temporary because Dr. Mays and her staff are already stretched thin and it's not like the space in the back is unlimited.”

On cue, Cynthia Mays came through the door at the back of the clinic. The tailored tan outfit under her long white medical coat was brightened by orange buttons on her blouse. “Sassy, I'm so glad you're here. We just got an emergency call. The patient will be arriving shortly. I was going to ask Bridgy if she could stay until all the sheltered pets are picked up. It would be wonderful if you could help. At least until I see what's going on with Duke.”

“Duke?”

“Mrs. Whatling's golden. He's getting up in years. Mrs. Whatling is afraid Duke has seriously hurt his hip. Golden retrievers have a propensity for hip problems, you know.”

I didn't but I nodded anyway.

“Doctor, I wanted to talk to you about the green anaconda. Do you have a minute?”

“I have until Duke and Mrs. Whatling arrive.” And she ushered me into her office.

I wasn't sure how to begin.

Dr. Mays indicated the visitor's chair and asked if we needed to close the door. I hesitated and then said yes.

She sat, folded her hands and waited patiently for me to speak.

“I'm concerned about the growing rift in the community between those who want to protect the green anaconda and those who think it should be killed for the safety of their pets. This battle could ruin lifelong friendships and cause troubles that may never heal in the community.”

She unclasped her hands and leaned back in her chair. “Sassy, you are right on track. In fact, there is a meeting at Pastor John's church in about”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“two hours to discuss how to head off a Hatfield and McCoy collision here in our tiny community. It's open to the public. Why don't you join us?”

I accepted enthusiastically.

I shook hands with Dr. Mays and went to find Miguel. He was sitting on the windowsill next to a big old gray tabby, stroking her back gently. She seemed content to lie in the sunshine and be adored. Bow, her trademark neck ribbon a saucy bright blue, was standing on Miguel's lap and swiping at a toy Miguel was bouncing above her head. The feather on a long string dangled from a stick that Miguel waved back and forth from one side to the other. Bow bobbed and weaved as if she was training for the Golden Gloves boxing championship.

Two cats were tumbling around a tunnel toy that looked like it was a scratcher as well. The rest of the cats were sleeping in circles of sunshine on the floor or just roaming the room.

“
Hola, chica
. Did that annoying woman continue to cause trouble after I left the café?”

Clearly Miguel wasn't going to forgive Cordelia Ramer anytime soon.

“Every time Cordy tried to stir the pot, Ophie took the spoon away. Say, are you going to the meeting in the church later?”

“I wouldn't miss it. As long as pets are allowed, I am happy to participate. Now here”—he threw a small purple ball at me—“have some fun with the cats.”

And so I did, tossing and rolling the ball as the cats took turns chasing it. One pretty gray tabby with big yellow eyes had mastered the art of slapping the ball from top to bottom and sending it spinning across the floor. Two other cats dashed after it and as soon as they had it cornered, she of the yellow eyes would muscle the other cats out of the way and slap the ball, sending it off again. I had to laugh when Bow suddenly jumped from Miguel's lap and landed squarely on the purple ball. She rolled back so that the ball
was securely under her front paws and hissed just long enough to scare the chaser cats away. Yellow Eyes wasn't intimidated. She stood a few inches out of claw range and stared at Bow as if daring her to start something.

I looked to Miguel for help, but he held up his hand. “Wait and watch. Perhaps they will settle this amicably.”

I thought he was crazy but I followed his direction. Within a few seconds, Yellow Eyes arched her back but made no threatening move. Apparently bored with the game and the lack of a stronger reaction, Bow released the ball and leapt back onto Miguel's knees. Yellow Eyes promptly turned her back on the purple ball and pranced off to a scratching post in the corner.

Pet owners showed up sporadically to retrieve their animals and soon it was only Bow and Yellow Eyes left in the cat room. Bow had curled up for a nap in a bright warm patch of sunlight and Yellow Eyes was once again slapping the purple ball, albeit with less enthusiasm than she had when there were cats interested in chasing the ball around the room.

Inga, cat carrier in her hand, stepped into the room just as Yellow Eyes slapped the ball. It went careening across the floor and landed at Inga's feet. She picked it up and bounced it a few feet away, sending the cat scrambling after it. Bow heard the commotion and opened one eye, decided the activity was not worth opening the other and went back to sleep.

Yellow Eyes was about to slap the ball again when Inga swooped her up and said, “Come on, baby girl. Time for home and dinner.”

I pulled out my cell phone, checked the time and said to Miguel, “That was fun, and it is almost time for the meeting about the green anaconda. Are you going?”

“Of course. I have Bow's carrier outside. I want to bring her as exhibit A—the prime example as to why the snake must be killed. Our pets are not safe . . . Ah, but you understand about the pets. I am preaching to the choir.”

I nodded uneasily. As much as I understood the danger the snake presented to the small pets, I was inclined to a remedy that involved capture rather than kill. I hoped there would be a good turnout at the meeting and we'd find a solution that everyone could support.

Bridgy was talking to Cynthia Mays in the lobby and invited me to walk over to Pastor John's church with them. I thought the walk, short as it was, would do me good.

Inga was staying at the veterinary center with the night attendant and a community volunteer, so Dr. Mays was free. As we strolled across the parking lot, the yellow and orange ribbons of another dazzling southwest Florida sunset were peeking above the row of beach cottages that sat between us and the Gulf of Mexico.

“I never get tired of watching the sun go down in southwest Florida. I'm from Chicago originally. Sunset is not a big deal there,” Cynthia said with a gentle laugh.

Bridgy told her that when we first moved to Fort Myers Beach we watched the sun go down every night for at least the first six months.

I nodded. “It never gets old and I never take it for granted.”

As we walked to Pastor John's church, now and again a robust gust of wind coming inland from the Gulf carried a whiff of salt water and its inhabitants. I inhaled deeply. “That smell never gets old, either.”

When we reached the church, I was surprised to see so many cars in the parking lot and said so.

“Well, if you think about it, there are residents who have strong feelings about both sides of this issue, and neither group wants to be underrepresented.”

Cynthia had a point. Bridgy was quick to ask if there was any obvious solution, and Cynthia was quick to respond. “That's what we are here to determine.”

Bridgy pointed to a spot at the far end of the church parking lot, where Cordelia Ramer was corralling a contingent of women wearing the long white tee shirts showing off their love for the snake. “Oh, darn. The Guy Bradley girls are front and center. I don't see Aunt Ophie, thank the Lord. Still, the night is young.” Bridgy sighed, fearing the moment still might come when she would have to rescue her aunt from the middle of a brawl between the environmentalists who wanted to protect the green anaconda and the pet owners who wanted the snake caught and killed.

The hall inside was noisier than I expected, but it wasn't the sound of bickering. People were moving around, saying hello to friends and neighbors and scraping the floor with the folding chairs that had been placed in untidy rows as they settled in for the meeting. Pastor John was sitting at a long table facing the audience.

Cynthia Mays patted my shoulder. “We can't leave Pastor John all alone to deal with this crowd. I'll see you later.” And she strode to the front of the room, exuding the confidence of a movie star who'd just won an Oscar, smiling and waving to anyone who greeted her. She took a seat at the table next to the pastor.

Miguel waved to us. He was sitting toward the front on the left side of the aisle, with Mr. Gerrity on one side and another man who I recognized from my volunteer time at
Dr. Mays's clinic. I was guessing that was the “kill the anaconda” section. I was wondering where the “we're just here to listen and vote for peace” section was when Cordelia Ramer marched in her troops complete with their “save the anaconda” signs held high. I noticed that Miss Augusta and Blondie Quinlin held to the rear and weren't carrying signs. I wished the entire group was as sensible. The signs caused quite a stir on Miguel's side of the room. Pastor John marched purposefully down the center aisle, picking up a couple of younger men along the way.

He stopped directly in front of the Guy Bradleys. “Cordelia, I already told you that you and your organization members are welcome but those signs are not. If you insist on bringing them to our meeting, then I must insist you leave.”

I'd never heard him speak so forcefully. I found myself daydreaming about what would happen if he spoke that firmly to Jocelyn. I shook it off as a fantasy for another time.

The room filled with silent expectation. Then Cordelia meekly turned over her sign to one of the young men who flanked Pastor John, and signaled her cronies to do the same. After abandoning their signs, they walked down the center aisle, heads held high, and settled in on the right side of the room.

The men put the signs in a side room and came back. By the time they took their seats, Pastor John was back behind the table and calling the meeting to order. Bridgy and I took two aisle seats in the back row and waited for the fireworks to begin. I was surprised to see Mark Clamenta come in a side door and sit at the head table.

Pastor John gave him a nod of welcome and explained to all of us that we had come together to find a solution to
the problem of the green anaconda snake that had been spotted numerous times in Estero Bay.

Someone from the front left yelled, “Kill him and be done with it.” That caused a great deal of rumbling.

Pastor John pounded his hand on the table. “I will have order. Now, we have two guests here tonight who may help us find a solution that will satisfy everyone.”

This time we heard murmurs from both sides of the room but no shout-outs.

“You all know Dr. Cynthia Mays. Listen carefully to what she has to say.”

Pastor sat down and Cynthia Mays got up. She walked around the table and stood closer to the audience, which was restless at first, waiting for her to speak. She held up a hand to indicate patience or silence, I wasn't sure which, but it was enough to get everyone's undivided attention.

“We, as a community, have come together to solve a problem. We have a fundamental disagreement about the solution, but we do not disagree that having the green anaconda swim in our waters and coming ashore on our island is a problem that could result in tragedy.”

She stopped speaking, and swung her gaze slowly from one side of the room to the other and back to the center.

“I know that pet owners are concerned that if the anaconda is caught and set free in the Everglades, it might once again find its way north. I agree that is a possibility.”

I expected that sentence to lead to mumbling in the audience, but it didn't.

Dr. Mays continued. “Throughout the United States there are dozens of serpentariums, or snake zoos. In fact, there are three right here in Florida.”

She waited a minute to let what she had said sink in everyone's brain. “So I propose that we find a serpentarium willing to take this anaconda away from our community.”

I was pleased to see heads nodding in agreement all over the room. Mr. Gerrity raised his hand. “I'd be happier if we could send the snake out of state. That way if he escapes, he won't find his way to Fort Myers Beach again.”

Cynthia Mays concurred. “Excellent suggestion. We will focus on trying to find a location out of state.”

A man two rows in front of us raised his hand. “I don't see Fish and Wildlife here. Who's gonna catch the sucker?”

The doctor smiled. “I'll let my colleague, Mark Clamenta, answer that.”

Bridgy leaned in and whispered, “What does Mark know about snakes?”