Meet Me at the Starlight

Chapter 5

TUESDAY

1987

The weight of carrying the Starlight was almost too much for her old shoulders. At eighty-seven, she needed to slow down a bit. Years of physical labor were taking a toll. She had help from Spike Chambers, who was on his third career after sacking groceries at Biggs, then joining the army. He took over the rink’s concession services years ago. Called it Spike’s Concession at the Starlight.

He didn’t have to help with the rink, but she’d never known a soul more kind than Spike.

She had her youngest, Dupree, who wasn’t so young anymore, who would help if she asked. But he owned a construction company, which kept him hopping. And to be honest, Dup’s love for the Starlight was chilly at best. She suspected he secretly agreed with the town council’s plan. She was too scared to ask.

But now that Matty was here, a bit of her burden lifted.

“Start from the beginning,” he said, munching on the hot dog Spike handed him, along with a tall soda. He’d arrived at Dup’s last night in his fancy car. After sleeping in, he came to the rink.

“Harry and the town council want to tear down the Starlight,” Spike said. “Eminent domain, which I never heard of until the Gazette wrote up a big piece on it.”

Just the idea of tearing down her precious Starlight gave Tuesday’s old heart palpitations.

“What are they going to do with the land?” Matt said.

No sooner had he spoken than Mayor Harry Smith himself strolled in for his pre-lunch snack from Spike’s Concession—popcorn and a Coke.

“Harry, just in time,” Tuesday said. “My movie-star grandson has some questions.”

“Matt, good to see you.” Harry extended his hand.

Matt hesitated before he shook it. “What’s this about the Starlight?”

Harry popped some fat kernels in his mouth. “Matt, we’re near the end of the twentieth century, staring down the barrel of a brand-new millennium, and it’s time to bring Sea Blue Beach into the modern era.”

“Love it. What about all the land west of town?”

“We got plans for that too, but it begins right here. In the heart of things. How can we have a modern town with this monstrosity of a skating rink? Looks like a runaway circus tent.” Harry slurped his Coke.

Tuesday made a face. Harry wasn’t a bad man, generally speaking, and rather nice-looking, which helped him win elections. And she’d known him his whole life. But, at the moment, she’d label him a selfish prig. To think his daddy was Drunk Dirk, who got born again and became Dear Dirk because Tuesday let a traveling revival use the rink for a week. Dirk got drunk in the Spirit and everything changed.

Harry leaned back in his chair. “The Starlight is old, Matt. Built by a prince who died in the first war. The Royal Blue family probably don’t even know it’s here. If they did, they’d have made overtures. I doubt they want to bother with an old relic on American soil.” He gave Tuesday a soft look. “You can’t deny the popularity of skating has waned. We’re a beach town, for crying out loud. No one wants to be inside roller skating on a day like today. In these modern times, folks are on the Beachwalk, Rollerblading or riding bikes. They grab a soda from the Soda Gal trailer or basket of fries from the Beach Eats truck. Janelle Samson just purchased a beignet business and will have a trailer up next month. The Blue Plate Diner is expanding into the old yarn shop and widening their outside deck. Mr. Chin’s Chinese also wants to expand. The rink is just not who we are anymore.”

“Yet you still come in every day for popcorn and Coke,” Tuesday said. “What about the business Spike runs out of here?”

“I can get popcorn and a Coke from Biggs,” Harry said. “Spike can open his own food truck. The sooner the better, I’d say. You know the town will compensate you, Spike.”

From the office’s front corner, Spike listened, arms crossed, expression pinched.

“Harry Smith, you’re just saying things to sound official.” All this talk riled Tuesday. “The Starlight is exactly who we are. It’s the heartbeat of Sea Blue Beach. The first building. The first shelter from a storm. Where we’ve gathered for large parties and holiday fun since the nineteenth century, where every little kid has learned to roll before he could walk. You can’t undo the Starlight’s history with a stroke of a Bic pen. The Starlight has survived hurricanes and mobsters, harbored the downtrodden, fed the hungry.” She shuffled the papers in front of her to keep from bursting into tears. “Granted, roller skating has changed, but the Starlight still stands. We’re in the black.” Barely, but Harry didn’t need to know the details. “We’re busy every weekend. Never mind we’re doing a service to the United States Air Force. The boys from Eglin love to blow off steam wearing a pair of skates.”

The eloquence of her speech did not quell her inner doubts. Just last week, as she was trying to fall asleep, the Starlight’s neon sign buzzed and flickered, threatening to go out. Darned if it didn’t feel like an omen.

Then with a loud ca-chunk, it burned bright, giving her profound relief. If the Starlight died in any way, shape, or form, she’d go right along with it. The rink was more than the town’s heartbeat. It was hers.

“There’s more to it, Tuesday.” Harry gave Matt his attention. “The prince knew what he was doing when he built the Starlight. It sits on the highest point in town, smack on the main bedrock running through this stretch of Florida. The potential developer, the Murdock Corporation, owns some of the land west of here, and we own a bit. Even Dupree owns a long stretch of land. But it starts here, on the rock of the Starlight. Have you seen the plans, Matt? No? They’re splendid. We’ll make Niceville look like a cow pasture. We’ve a new road coming in as well as a park with a pavilion, and one of those newfangled splash pads for kids and pets to play in. An official auditorium for town events. We’ll expand parking for the downtown as well as the new shops to the west. We’ve wanted to do this for decades, but no one had vision for it until I met the folks from Murdock. However, the Starlight is standing in the way.” Harry’s look of sympathy didn’t sway Tuesday one bit. “I’m sorry, but the Starlight has to go.”

Had he forgotten she’d taught him to skate after hours so he could impress his friends? Or how she coached him on the Starlight’s championship race team of 1950? How she brought around food for him and his mama, sister, and brother when Drunk Dirk went on a bender? It was Harry’s days at the Starlight that gave him confidence to go to college, start a business, run for mayor.

But the Starlight was so much more. Roller Skating News magazine had featured the rink a dozen times over the decades. The high-pitched roof was held up by octagon-shaped walls. The panels painted with skaters from the last century, smiling up at the image of a man the prince called Immanuel, were an artistic wonder. The prince spared no expense, bringing over an Italian master to bring his vision to life.

In the skating heyday of the ’30s, Betty Lytle performed at the Starlight, along with Fred “Bright Star” Murree and Gloria Nord. During the war years, Tuesday entertained troops and introduced live bands to serenade the skaters. Post war into the ’50s and ’60s, the Starlight sponsored figure-skating competitions and racing teams.

Every kid in town had at least one birthday party at the Starlight. Some kids had a skating party every year. Tuesday organized anniversary celebrations, family reunions, and fundraisers. The Starlight’s history was the town’s history.

Harry had forgotten how she decorated for Valentine’s Day, St. Paddy’s, Fourth of July, Halloween, celebrating every holiday with something special—an All-Night Skate or Skating for Lovers. The rink was the town gathering for Thanksgiving and at Christmas, when Santa gave away gifts from baby Jesus. New Year’s Eve? The Starlight hosted the biggest and brightest party on the North Florida coast.

Sea Blue Beach was the place to be because of the Starlight. Now Harry was declaring it an eyesore and in the way of progress.

“To be honest, Harry,” Tuesday said, “the shortness of your memory is astounding.”

“I’m not short of memories, Tuesday. I’m just not letting sentiment get in the way of what I was voted to do. The next generation needs jobs and opportunity more than they need roller skates.”

Why not just spit in her eye, then?

“I’d like to see these plans, Harry,” Matt said. “I bet you can do what you want without knocking down the Starlight. Seems kind of drastic to me.”

“I see, did you play a civil engineer in a movie, Matt? Now you think you know more than we do?” Harry stood, adjusting his slacks and tie, smoothing back his hair. “We’re discussing the plans tonight at the town council meeting. Seven o’clock.” Harry tossed his popcorn container and soda cup in the garbage. “Come early. It’ll be a packed house.” At the door, he turned back to Tuesday, Matt, and Spike. “We’ll purchase the Starlight and land at a fair price. You’re eighty-seven, Tuesday. Time to retire, go visit Matt in Hollywood. Maybe you’ll get a part in a movie.”

“Not unless you can guarantee Cary Grant. Can you, Matt?”

“He died last year, Granny.”

“There you have it, Harry.”

“What about the Starlight’s sign, Harry?” Good one, Matty. “The fishermen look for it on a dark night. The neon red, blue, and green is the town streetlamp from one end to the next, and way out into the Gulf. You can see it for miles.”

“Murdock offered to put the sign on top of the first condominium they build.” Harry tapped Matt on the shoulder. “Talk some sense into her, will you?”

“I’d rather talk some sense into you.”

Matty is full of beans this morning!

“I need to go, but I’ll see you at the meeting.” Harry paused at the door. “One last thing before I forget. Do you have the deed to the rink, Tuesday? We were looking in the records and—”

“Of course I do. What are you implying, Harry?”

He shrugged. “I’m not implying anything, Tooz. We just need to verify you’re the real and rightful owner. You know, red tape and all. If we’re paying compensation, we want it to go to the right people.”

Matt shot to his feet, knocking over his chair. “First you threaten to take the rink and now you imply Granny’s not—”

“Simmer down, Matt.” Harry grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ve got the purchase price in the budget. All we’re asking is for help dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. It’s in your best interest, Tuesday. See you at the meeting.”

“Granny, where’s the deed?” Matt said when Harry had gone and Spike went to receive a delivery at the back door. “Let’s not give him any excuses to flat out steal the Starlight.”

“He doesn’t need the deed, not with this eminent domain. But if he tries to take the Starlight without compensation, he’ll have a riot on his hands.” Tuesday opened the cupboard and pulled out her old Richardsons. “I think I’ll do a bit of skating before we open. Matt, put on some Glenn Miller, will you?”