Disaster Productions Page 13

  Off to the side I can see Trace watching us with an amused little smile on her lips, just waiting for an opening. The red highlights are gone from her hair, and her make-up is more moderate, but her basic personality is shining through loud and clear.

  I give her wide berth. Up to this point, I’ve blown every good opportunity that has come into my life, and it isn’t going to happen again.

  I see Grandpa, cocktail in hand, circulating with Mrs. Simpson and chatting with various big shots. Retired or not, he still seems well connected.

  And through it all moves a television reporter and his cameraman interviewing people, kind of like we did at the skating party. The skating party ... it seems like years have passed since then.

  Tamika follows them around, trying to gain their attention whenever possible. Let me guess, she was no doubt the first person they interviewed – after the mayor, perhaps.

  ***

  I’m on the lower deck leaning on the rail and watching the shore drift by. The water looks pretty rough, and I’m grateful that we’re on this big watercraft instead of Grandpa Alpin’s little boat. Duals and Lauren stand on either side of me. I don’t know where everyone else is. Suddenly a microphone is thrust into my face.

  “So, young man,” the TV reporter says. “What do you think of all this?”

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Duals interrupts.

  He flings an arm over my shoulders. With his free hand, he jabs a finger at me.

  “This here is Matthew Alpin – and the kid rocks!”

  The reporter chuckles and moves on to the next interview without even getting any comment from me. Tamika trails after him, per usual.

  “Thanks, Duals,” I say.

  “Oh ... sorry, Matt,” Duals says. “I kind of got carried away. It’s all this fresh air.”

  I’m getting pretty hungry by now. The dining room isn’t big enough to serve everybody all at once, so the passengers are divided into two groups. We’re in group two.

  Finally, an announcement comes over the loudspeakers calling us to eat.

  “I’m for that!” Duals says.

  We troop into the dining room and arrange ourselves down a long table with Grandpa and Mrs. Simpson in the middle. I sit across from them – flanked by Lauren and Duals. Gerry and Kaitlyn bookended our trio.

  Tamika sits on Grandpa’s side of the table, on the left edge of the group. Dylan is at Mrs. Simpson’s right, as far from Tamika as possible. The big romance is obviously a thing of the past.

  Duals is in rare form.

  “Hey, Tamika,” he calls across the table.

  “Yes?” She replies with an indulgent look, as if she’s doing him a big favor by acknowledging his existence.

  “For a while I thought you were Raspberry out there,” Duals says. “The way you were following that TV crew like a puppy dog.”

  Kaitlyn laughs. Judging by the dagger in her eyes, she still has some issues with Tamika.

  “Well, at least they know what they’re doing, Stephan,” Tamika says. “Maybe you should talk to them. They’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Right,” Duals says, “like they’re just going to step overboard.”

  “No, a shuttle boat is coming to pick them up,” Tamika says.

  “What do you know?” Duals says. “I guess you really can learn something new every day.”

  Tamika rolls her eyes and turns her attention to Trace, who is sitting next to her.

  Alex and Carrie, the sausage dog couple, round out the table. Grandpa welcomes them right into our group. At one point, I see him slip Alex the phone number of a business associate who “might be able to help with your job search.”

  Dinner comes, served by bustling wait staff in black and white outfits. I pig out on the prime rib. There is also shrimp, lobster tail, and a whole bunch of wonderful sides. I glance over at Tamika who is getting by on a plate full of veggies.

  Then dessert, coffee, a champagne toast for the adults, and sparking fruit juice for us. I see Grandpa discreetly slipping fat tips to our wait staff. That is so cool! Someday, I’d like to throw generosity around like he does.

  Grandpa stands and taps a spoon on his water glass. We all shut up.

  “As my grandson has doubtlessly not told you, this little get together is also in celebration of his upcoming 14th birthday,” Grandpa says.

  Everyone applauds. Even Tamika pats her hands together a bit.

  “The big one four!” Duals cries.

  “I know Matt’s a bit sensitive about being the youngest one in the upcoming freshman class,” Grandpa says. “But let me assure you that, from my perspective, being a bit younger is a positive thing.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “So, in observance of the occasion ...” Grandpa gestures toward an approaching waiter.

  The waiter plunks a large, colorfully wrapped package in front of me.

  “Thanks, Grandpa!”

  I’m dazzled by the beauty and weight of my present. It seems a crime to destroy the magnificent wrapping job. Everyone leans in for a better view.

  “Open it already,” Duals said.

  I tear the paper off the large box, then open it to find two smaller boxes inside. One contains a video camera, the other a professional grade lens – the same models that were destroyed in my collision with Raspberry.

  “Oh, man, we’re back in business!” Duals cries.

  Everyone applauds again. Tamika is more enthusiastic this time, and her eyes have this strange intensity – like a cat who’s just caught sight of a mouse.

  “It is my hope that all of you will enjoy this camera,” Grandpa says, “either in front of the lens or behind it.”

  The dinner wraps up soon after this. My present is whisked away for safe keeping and everyone heads back outside. I stay behind with Grandpa and Mrs. Simpson – Kathleen.

  “This has been absolutely wonderful, Richard,” Kathleen says. “I think I’ll get some air and let you two catch up on things.”

  She gives him a little kiss on the cheek, then leaves. She seems so graceful, nothing like the woman I’ve seen rooting around in the flower garden. I think everybody who deals with Grandpa picks up some of his poise.

  41: Preparing a New Start

  “You didn’t have to replace the camera Grandpa,” I say. “I mean, after the way I botched things up before – I don’t deserve so much generosity.”

  “It’s not that generous,” Grandpa says, “the old equipment was all insured. Besides, everything really belongs to the production company. Did Stephan explain about the production company?”

  “Uh, yeah, he said something about it.”

  So, all that stuff about the LLC papers wasn’t just a con job as I’d suspected.

  “I’m so glad you returned early from Central America,” I say. “I couldn’t have handled the blowback from the fire by myself.”

  “I thought you handled it quite well, actually,” Grandpa says. “It took real character to own up to things the way you did.”

  Wow! Aren’t I feeling proud?

  “So, why did you cut things short in Central America?” I say.

  “The church construction work was finished, and I’d seen all the bloody temples I wanted to, so it was time to come home,” Grandpa says. “Besides, I got to thinking that I’d dumped too much responsibility on you, that maybe you’d need some support.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I say. “It was impossible to keep control. Every time I thought I had a handle on things, something else blew up.”

  “Some things can’t be controlled,” Grandpa says. “You just have to learn how to manage the chaos so that it all works out in the end.”

  “Right ...”

  I want to give the impression that I understand what he’s saying, but I must look kind of blank.

  “It’s like a kayaker going down a white-water rapid,” Grandpa says. “There’s no way he can control the river, but he can manage the chaos of the water long enough to a
void getting creamed.”

  “Yeah, I’ve learned a few things about getting creamed,” I say.

  Grandpa leans back and takes a final sip from his coffee cup.

  “Being a filmmaker has always been one of my unrealized ambitions,” he says. “I got to wondering if maybe I wasn’t going overboard with the whole thing – trying to live my life through you. But I can see now that you’ve got a genuine interest.”

  “I do, Grandpa. I believe I’ve finally discovered my place in life.”

  “Finally?” Grandpa smiles and shakes his head. “Teenagers!”

  The dining room is almost empty now. Someone calls in from the door.

  “The shuttle boat’s here!”

  “Let’s go have a look,” Grandpa says.

  42: The Shuttle Boat

  We take our places near the stern, along the crowded lower deck rail with Lauren and Duals. Most of the others are nearby, though I don’t see Dylan or Gerry. Kathleen sidles back up to Grandpa.

  The sun is low in the sky now, but visibility is still good. A small boat is approaching us. It looks like a miniature tug boat – tiny beside our large craft.

  “Hi!” we all yell.

  The shuttle toots its whistle. The powerful sound is amazing coming from such a little boat. A guy wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses stands on the deck waving to us. The pilot ducks her head quickly out the cabin door and waves, too.

  “What do you know,” Grandpa says, “a female captain. Times sure have changed.”

  “This is so cool,” Duals says, “I wish we had the camera set up.”

  “Maybe I’ll be a boat captain someday,” Lauren says. “What would you think of that, Matthew?”

  “Sure, why not?” I say. “I’m all for woman power.”

  “Good answer,” Lauren says.

  Yeah, it is. Hanging out with Grandpa is bringing me a lot of new sophistication. I feel Lauren’s arm slip around my waist, and I draw myself closer to her. We fit together real nice, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

  The reporter and his cameraman stand near us. I wonder how they’re going to transition from here to the shuttle boat without getting wet. They don’t look too pleased, but they must have another important story to cover someplace – a house fire, maybe. I’m just glad they didn’t show up at Studio Duals for the conflagration.

  For now, they content themselves with filming the shuttle boat. Needless to say, Tamika is with them.

  But things do not seem to be going well. The water is much rougher now and the shuttle boat is having difficulty positioning itself. And it’s leaning over too much, as far as I can tell.

  “We should forget the whole thing,” I hear the reporter say.

  “Yeah,” the cameraman agrees.

  Our boat has slowed its engines, only the current seems to be moving us along now. Then it happens – like a nightmare turning real. Just as the shuttle boat is at maximum lean, it suddenly slams against our ship. There’s no time to brace ourselves. People around me fall over, including Lauren. I barely avoid joining them.

  Then, in a single horrifying instant, the shuttle boat flips over. Its propeller whines in the open air. A collective scream shoots through the passengers.

  “My god!” Grandpa cries.

  His face is bloodless. He suddenly looks every one of his years and more. I help Lauren back up; she is wide-eyed and frightened, like the rest of us.

  The deck hand bobs to the surface, minus his baseball cap. He looks battered and stunned, but still alive. There is no sign of the captain, though.

  “She’s drowning!” somebody wails.

  The whole world stands frozen. It’s the absolute worst moment of my life ...

  Then, from the deck above us, somebody comes hurtling down feet first. He hits the water like an arrow, zooms under, then shoots back to the surface. It’s Dylan!

  With a few powerful strokes, he’s at the capsized shuttle boat. He dives underwater. The crowd cheers.

  “Go Dylan!” we all shout.

  Tamika is standing on the rail now, looking toward the shuttle boat, then back at us, calculating the odds. Then she jumps in. Another cheer from the crowd. The TV crew trains their camera on the unfolding drama.

  All sorts of thoughts and emotions swirl through my brain – somebody is in desperate trouble and needs help; others are risking their lives while I am safe; Big Ideas are useless here, only immediate action counts. Here is a chance to do something truly noteworthy!

  I find myself climbing onto the rail, my actions are robotic, as if somebody else is controlling them. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never really understand why I did something so foolish.

  “Matt, no!” Grandpa shouts.

  He tries to grab me, but I am already jumping off. I instantly realize my error. Heck, I’m no life guard! The choppy surface rushes up like watery doom. Why didn’t Grandpa move faster to stop me?

  “Manage the chaos!” I yell, or maybe its just a maniac voice in my mind sounding off.

  The water hits me hard, cold and smothering. I am going under, pulled by my flooded shoes. I kick them off and fight my way back to the surface. I’ve somehow made it beside the upended shuttle boat. It is sinking fast – then I’m sinking, too. The boat is pulling me under with it!

  As I go down, I can see Dylan and Tamika struggling up with the captain between them. They each hold one of her arms. Dylan reaches out his free hand and grabs my arm. We all kick together against the deadly water with every ounce of our strength ...

  We break the surface at last.

  The roar from the crowd nearly shatters my eardrums. Next thing I know, somebody is hauling me aboard the boat with a long pole. Then I’m lying on the deck like a drowned rat, gulping in air. Lauren and Grandpa kneel beside me.

  “Are you okay, Matt?” Lauren say.

  “Never better,” I gasp out.

  “You’ve done something I’ve always wanted to,” Grandpa says. “You’re a hero, Matt.”

  I don’t feel particularly heroic, but it’s still nice to hear the praise.

  The captain is lying in the middle of a clearing on the deck. People are working frantically on her. Suddenly, she coughs up water and splutters back to life. Another cheer from the onlookers.

  I’ve hardly got my breath back before the microphone is in my face again. The TV camera rolls as I blubber some incoherent statement.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Duals shouts in the background. “The kid rocks!”

  Tamika has no such difficulty. Turning her best facial angle toward the camera, she gives a running commentary of the rescue – what a terrible shock the accident was, how she couldn’t bear the thought of the captain drowning and of Dylan struggling in the river alone, how she loves all people, etc.

  She flashes a glowing smile Dylan’s way. The big romance seems to be back on, for the camera, anyhow.

  The Coast Guard hauls away Captain Montrose and the deck hand; we stay with the tour boat. We’ve recovered from our little swim okay, but the tour boat captain pleads with us to get a medical examination – liability issues, all that.

  I would have liked going on the Coast Guard boat, but Tamika is insistent.

  “We need to stay together,” she says. “It’s more dramatic that way.”

  So, once on shore, we are all whisked to the emergency room for a check up. The same doctor who treated my black eye is on duty.

  “You again?” he says. “You sure have some interesting adventures.”

  Mom and Dad are there, along with the parents of Dylan and Tamika. Everyone looks terribly stressed, as if the danger is still going on. We learn that Captain Montrose and the deck hand are going to be okay.

  Another TV crew puts in an appearance. The three of us smile and flash victory signs for the camera. Tamika wraps her arms around Dylan’s neck and gives him a joyful kiss. She gives me one, too.

  43: Media Heroes

  So, I get to be famous by my 14th birthday after all.
The long, tortuous path that began in my basement empire with Duals and a can of Bomb Cola has led me to the attention of the world. Everywhere, the media screams:

  Three Heroic Young People Rescue Capsized Boat Captain!

  All across the country and the world – on TV, over the internet – the footage of us jumping into the river plays for millions of people. Billions maybe. We get a ‘Citizenship Award’ from the governor. We appear on TV interview programs, sometimes accompanied by Captain Montrose.

  The boat company wants to blame her for the sinking at first, but then it comes out that there were safety violations on the boat – something about the steering being faulty and the cargo doors not properly watertight.

  So, they change their minds and get on board the hero thing right quick. They pay her a cash settlement to keep matters out of the courts.

  The fact that Captain Montrose is a good-looking single mom with two teen-aged girls helps our media appeal a lot. There is even some nonsense about hooking me up with one of her daughters. Pure hype.

  And the capper – a phone call from the president! He says how proud he is that our country still has the spirit of valor and selfless concern for others, etc. I’m pretty blown away listening to him talk. Mom and Dad were not fond of the president before, but now he walks on water for them, and they’ll certainly vote for him next time around.

  I could have used that walk on water capability. I had little to do with the actual rescue; I was only inches away from drowning myself. Dylan is the real hero, but he generously shares the credit.

  “I owe you one for burning up your Grandpa’s house,” he says. “Not to mention that comb thing at the skating party.”

  I tried to explain the real situation early on, but the reporter I was talking to shut me up. No sense ruining the ‘Three Heroic Young People’ narrative. Besides, Duals’ “the kid rocks!” comment already guaranteed my place in the drama. The clip with me and Duals standing at the rail is generally shown just before the disaster / rescue footage.

  Thank heaven, nobody made the connection between my hero persona and my earlier appearance in the Roll-O-Center video.

  The notoriety doesn’t last long, of course. Dylan and I soon fade back into obscurity. At least I’ve got something to show my future kids – let them know that old Dad amounted to something way back when. I’ve done the fame thing; maybe I’ll do it again some day.