Northwalk stretches along the
edge of town between the shoreline and a long row of summer rentals. It is for the most part just a wooden walkway
lined on one side with small tourist shops selling tee shirts, cheese burgers
and boating paraphernalia.
The other side, from the pier supports to as far as you can see and then
some is the Pacific Ocean, complete with
majestic sunsets, some very ugly fish and a smattering of shipwrecks.
Morning, noon and night pelicans
and seagulls sit atop these pilings watching for fish and snacking on the trail
of debris that follows almost every tourist.
The tourists are slobs, they are rude and obnoxious and they spend their
vacation money on beach trinkets and crap. At least that’s the way I feel about it. The shop owners all contribute to a fund which
pays me $68.00 a week to keep the walkway hosed off and free of bird poop. I am Hector Lemon and I work my magic in the
wee hours of the morning, before the joggers and early risers show up and way
before the shops set out their signs, tee shirt stands and postcard racks.
Lucy Harper owns The Nautical
Smile, a gift shop specializing in local paintings and sculptures and she is
also Northwalk’s chairperson and my supervisor, so-to-speak. Any shopkeeper wishing special attention from
me or having an issue with their section of the walkway deals with Lucy and she
contacts me. This keeps all confusion
and misunderstandings to a minimum. It
is a system that has for several years worked very well.
That is until last Monday
morning. That’s when my body was
discovered under the wooden walkway down by Beach Burgers. I had been murdered during those wee hours
when I should have been hosing things off and now I can do nothing but watch
things unfold, as discoveries and accusations are made, fingers are pointed and
officials cart my body off to do who knows what. I can’t really describe exactly where it is
I’m seeing all of this from, I mean as I no longer have a body. It’s just strange; I see and hear everything
but can’t interact with anything. At
least I don’t think I can. It’s all very
new to me, this being dead.
I don’t feel hungry or pain or
even the ocean breeze. I’m not warm or
cold. I just seem to be here and
watching stuff taking place. It’s sort
of cool if you think about it. Like I
know there is an important clue still under the walkway and if they don’t
discover it soon the tide will carry it off.
Oh yeah, I can’t smell the ocean either.
Trust me, most days down here not being able to smell what the tide
brings in is a good thing.
I’m surprised at the number of
shop owners who are happy to hear I’m dead.
I thought I was an alright kinda guy.
I did my job, maybe grumbled about the slobs a little too much but hey,
how hard is it to hit the trash can from less than a foot away? Give me a break.
What didn’t surprise me is how
hard Lucy is taking it. She and I were
tight. She understood me and I even saw
her a few times sweeping up in front of her store so I wouldn’t have to deal
with it. I know she was fond of me just
by the way she never ordered me around; I know how some supervisors are – the
power goes straight to their head. They
turn into maniacs. Lucy was cool that
way. She’d explain which area of Northwalk
I should concentrate on and that would keep those particular shop owners from
getting on her case. We had a system and
it worked.
The only thing Lucy’s husband did
right was to leave her a massive insurance check when he died. That kind of surprised me. Even though I never met him, the guy was
pretty much a flake in my book but he certainly left her with no worries. She used to tell me about their house in Del Mar. It sounded like some mansion up on the cliffs
with a view that wrapped all the way around the earth. The house alone would have brought her enough
to live on forever, but his insurance added greatly to that. I’ll bet if Lucy wanted to she could buy all
of Northwalk with the chump change in her purse.
It’s funny but I don’t feel bad
seeing her crying over me. I don’t seem
to have any emotions at all come to think of it. I’m not happy or sad. I’m not sure what I am. This is all very
odd. I don’t even care who killed me or
why. It doesn’t appear to matter
much. These detectives though seem to be
still worked up about it. This is their
fourth trip back here and this Frank whatshisname is headed back into Lucy’s
store – again. I say it like that
because I think he likes her more than he’s trying to solve my case. It’ll
be fun to see how this turns out.
I wonder if I get any smarter now
or if I stay the same. It would be cool
if I had some special powers I didn’t know about yet. This is too much to think about. I think I’ll just watch and see what happens
next.
Chapter 1
The tiny
brass bell over the front door bounced about as Frank Lawton entered The
Nautical Smile. Lucy looked up from
behind the counter. She knew why he was
there and it wasn’t to purchase a lighthouse painting or ceramic fisherman. Out of habit Frank pulled out his little
notebook and pen but then just as quickly slipped them into the side pocket of
his sport coat. He wasn’t half way
across the floor when Lucy spoke.
“Was there
something else you needed detective?”
Frank
stopped short. He wasn’t sure just how
honest he should be right now. He had
never been much of a smooth talker when it came to women and just blurting out
that he liked her and wanted to take her to dinner was pushing him way out of
his comfort zone, not to mention all very awkward should she be put off by the
thought of it.
“Is this
about Hector?”
“No, Miss
Harper, it isn’t.” He waited for her to
jump in and say, call me Lucy, but she didn’t.
“I was wondering if you might be…”
Suddenly
someone else was speaking. He looked
over to his left and there were two customers he hadn’t even noticed when he
had walked in. One was holding up a
small painting of a sailboat and was asking if they could buy it without the
frame.
Lucy looked
at Frank for a second and then over to the two ladies. “No, I’m sorry. The paintings are sold as you see them. In fact that particular artist puts great
effort into making sure there is a seamless flow between their work and the
presentation of it.”
The customer
wrinkled her nose at it and set it back down.
Suddenly Frank felt very awkward as he was still standing mid-shop and
hadn’t advanced in either his request or movement. Lucy looked back at Frank waiting for him to
say something.
“I should
come back. You’re busy.”
“What do
you want detective?”
Now she
sounded annoyed. As detectives go Frank
may not be sharp enough to notice other people in the store when he walks in but
he could see in her facial expression the moment she said it she knew it had
come out rather harsh. He needed to go for it but not from across the
room. He walked up to the counter and in
a much softer voice asked if she would be free for dinner.
He felt immediately relieved when
the words came out but now she was just looking at him like she had to mentally
translate Detective into English before she could respond.
“That would
be nice.” She said with a rather pleasant smile.
The
following Friday night Frank found himself sitting across from Lucy sipping his
Crown Royal and trying to keep up with awkward small talk until the waiter
returned with their dinners. Being overly nervous about the evening Frank had
consumed two drinks even before picking Lucy up for their date. Now he couldn’t even remember the name of the
fancy French restaurant they were sitting in.
Lavez-vous les mains, was all he
could remember and he couldn’t even recall where he had seen that. He fussed with his napkin again while Lucy
went on and on about the various shop owners along Northwalk. She seemed to know them all very well and had
strong opinions about each.
The topic
of Hector came up half way through dinner and Frank tried politely to let Lucy
know he was off duty and didn’t really want to pay these kind of dinner prices
while talking about a case but the more Lucy talked about it the more emotional
she became and wasn’t really listening to his objections about the topic.
Suddenly
Lucy touched on something that Frank wasn’t aware of; Hector’s great dislike
for the tourists. He reached across the
table and took hold of Lucy’s hand. She
stopped talking and looked at him.
“This whole
time I have been concentrating on the shop owners as suspects. I never knew Hector had openly verbalized his
negative opinions to the tourists themselves.” Frank said with slight
embarrassment.
But Lucy
was only half listening to Frank. His
hand on hers had brought her focus to a palpable reality that she was on a
date. She gradually felt very aware of
herself and pondered how she had let herself get into this position. She pulled her hand away and sat back in her
chair just looking at Frank, at his clothes, his posture and wondered just who
this guy was. The look on her face must
have spoken volumes to Frank as he too sat back and quickly apologized for touching
her hand.
The rest of
the dinner was finished in awkward silence and clumsy attempts at small
talk. When they left the restaurant they
walked down Hampton,
west towards Northwalk. They could see
the lights in the distance that ran along the walkway and they could hear the
sea lions barking down at the pier just to the south but neither of them was
saying anything.
Suddenly Lucy let out a scream and
at the same moment Frank ducked. A very
large pelican had silently glided just inched over their heads. It had come from behind so neither saw it
coming; and then very gracefully it landed a few feet in front of them, turned
to face them and spread out its massive wings, as if it were some traffic cop
signaling them to stop.
“What is it
doing?” Lucy whispered.
“I haven’t
got a clue but let’s just stand here for a minute and don’t move.”
“No
problem.” Lucy said, slowly taking hold of Franks sport coat.
It was like
a stand-off, the pelican stood its ground and held its wings fully stretched and
Frank and Lucy just stood looking at it.
“Maybe it’s
sick; you know… rabies or something.” Lucy said out of the side of her mouth.
“If there were more people out
walking tonight it might not be so brave.
I have never seen a bird act like this. Let’s take a step back and then
turn to our left and head down Parker
Street.”
Still
holding tight to Frank’s sleeve, Lucy followed Franks lead and they slowly
turned and took a step towards Parker.
The pelican didn’t object; in fact it pulled its wings in and just
watched them as they backed away.
“That was
weird.” Lucy said, letting go of Frank’s
coat.
“This will
put us at the wrong end of Northwalk but it’s a nice night for a walk don’t you
think?” Frank had liked Lucy holding
tight to his sleeve but still felt awkward about touching her hand at the table
and she didn’t seem to be very talkative either.
“Frank, I
want to thank you for the lovely evening, but the truth is I haven’t dated in
several years. I really don’t know why I
agreed to… What I mean is, you seem like a very nice person and…” Lucy suddenly
stopped and again grabbed at Frank’s sleeve.
Frank
looked up and saw that once again the pelican had placed itself in their
path. This time however it didn’t appear
to be blocking their path but was holding something in its mouth.
The pelican
dropped the item and backed up a couple steps.
“Can you
see what that is?” Frank asked Lucy.
“Looks too
small to be a fish but I’m not walking up there to see.” She replied.
“Is that even the same bird?” Frank said, taking a slow step
forward.
“It’s too dark out. I
didn’t even notice it until it was suddenly just there. But I’ll wait here if you want to go up and
check.”
“It looks like what it dropped is a wallet.”
As Frank stepped closer the giant bird moved back.
“Be careful
Frank, if that bird is sick you’re not going to want pelican drool on you.”
Frank pulled out his handkerchief and carefully reached down
for the billfold but stopped short.
“It’s not a wallet.” Franks voice sounded a little strained
to Lucy.
Lucy took a
step farther back and said, “What is it Frank?”
“Stay back
there; I’m going to call this in.”
“Frank?”
“Its part of a swim fin with part of a foot still in it.”
Lucy’s
first impulse was not to vomit but to immediately consider how news like this
would impact her business. None of the
shop keepers ever wanted bad news to get out to the public, and that very topic
was always touched upon in their monthly meetings. Even Hector’s death had been kept as quite as
possible, and to this end all the shop owners could be seen out cleaning the
walkway in front of their own shops until a replacement for Hector could be
found.
“I must say
Frank; you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
But Frank was already on his cell
phone describing their location and having some difficulty getting across to
them that a pelican had simply dropped the foot right in front of them.
Chapter 2
Lucy had
not heard back from Frank since that night. She had been checking the daily
papers every morning for articles about the foot but so far she hadn’t seen
anything.
There were several applications on her desk that had been
turned in for Hector’s job. They had all
been generated through word-of-mouth as Lucy had not advertised the position
but rather each shop owner had put the word out into the beach community that a
night man was needed. She hadn’t been
in a mood to start the interviews but knew the other shop owners wouldn’t keep
cleaning up their own places for too much longer. In fact, Gary Driskel from Beach Burgers had
already grumbled to her about picking up the pace a little on getting Hector
replaced.
That night,
after Lucy closed up her shop she took the stack of applications home with her. After her dinner she fixed a Manhattan and sat at her dining room table
and started reading through the pile of applications. She couldn’t seem to focus, instead her mind
was just wandering as her eyes were skimming the pages, glancing at the various
miss-spellings, the words that had been scribbled over with other words
squeezed in above or next to them. She
found herself smiling at them, seeing them for the first time as a sort of artwork. She even held one up to the light trying to
imagine how it would look with a frame around it. But then something odd caught her
attention. Written just below the
signature at the bottom it said, I am the
pelican.
Lucy
couldn’t stop staring at it. What was
that supposed to mean? Did this person
know about what had happened that night with her and Frank and the foot or was
this some cruel joke? But how, no one
knew about the pelican except her and the police. She wanted to call Frank but she seemed
frozen, holding the application and staring at those words. I am the
pelican. It was creepy and she
finally set it down and took a healthy sip of her drink.
The name on
the application was Scratchy Fernandez and the phone number was local. She wanted to call it but the urge to tell
Frank was stronger, even though she really didn’t want to start that whole
thing up again she dialed Frank’s cell phone.
Frank
sounded surprised to hear Lucy on the phone and quickly apologized for not
having called her sooner with updates on the case, citing as an excuse that there
really hadn’t been any. Lucy suggested
he stop by the shop tomorrow and she would show him something. “It isn’t anything I want to tell you over
the phone Frank. I just want you to look
at it and then tell me what you think.”
When
Lucy arrived to open her shop the following morning Frank was already there
standing out by one of the posts just looking out at the ocean. When he heard her keys at the lock he turned
and walked over.
“Good-morning Lucy.”
Lucy turned and saw Frank walking
up. “There was no need to be here first thing but I’m glad you’re here before I
open for business. Come in.”
“I have been going through
applications for Hector’s job and I think you need to see one of them.”
Frank looked surprised. “Do you mean people really have to fill out
an application to get a job hosing off a walk and picking up trash?”
Lucy looked at him. “These are not college entrance exams Frank,
but we do have to know who we hire and a little something about them. And to even call them applications is a
stretch. It’s not unusual for them to be
filled out with stubby golf pencils, turned in crumpled or folded several
times, torn in half and all too often stained with mustard and relish. These are beach applicants we’re talking
about. Sometimes homeless, most times in
serious need of a bath. The hardest part
of the job for them will be to fill out this form and come up with a phone
number where they can be reached.
Anyway, take a look at this one
and tell me what you think.”
Frank took the application and
immediately said, “There is something familiar about the date on this.”
Lucy took it back and looked at
the date. Her expression was that of
confusion but suddenly appeared startled and handed it quickly back to
Frank. “I just got this application two
days ago but the date on here is the date Hector was killed.” her voice
sounding a little shaky.
Frank continued scanning the page
and then saw the name at the bottom; “Scratchy Fernandez? Is that what you wanted me to see?
Lucy didn’t respond but waited
for him to keep reading.
“What
the...” The expression on Frank’s face
had said it all.
“That’s what I wanted you to
see.” Lucy sat down at her desk and the two of them just stared at each other.
