Chapter 21
SEA BLUE BEACH
Things are heating up around town. The flyers Matt, Harlow, and the Caster boys passed around caused quite a stir, and this morning, April 14, Matt Knight appeared on the Rollo on the Radio show. From the buzz we’re picking up, folks called in from as far east as Tallahassee and west to Pensacola, north to Dothan and down south to Lake City. On a clear day, AM radio commands the airwaves.
Fans are slightly disappointed, though. Matt Knight mostly talked about Sea Blue Beach and the petition to save the Starlight, though Rollo insisted he tell some amusing and harrowing Hollywood anecdotes before letting him go.
In other news, a rather stunning bouquet of flowers arrived at 321 Sea Blue Way yesterday while Simon Caster ran his rusty little mower over Harlow Hayes’ lawn.
Harlow still jogs faithfully three or four mornings a week. We watch as she heads to the Starlight a little after noon. As far as we know, she’s not put on another pair of skates.
Mayor Harry Smith darts in and out of shops and establishments with a bit of determination, kicking up his campaign for progress.
Our secret is still out there. We believe there’s one person who knows the truth. But we’ve not seen him in a long, long time.
TUESDAY
She listened to Matt on the Rollo on the Radio show in the Starlight’s sound booth with Nora and Harlow. He was charming and entertaining until he told behind-the-scenes stories about the filming of Flight Deck, including how he fell overboard into a rather turbulent sea.
Her joy depleted as she pressed her hand over her thudding heart. She’d not lose another of her loves to war. Even a fake one.
Still, she swelled with hope when he talked about the Starlight. The townsfolk would get off their duffs and sign the petition now.
“What’s next for you, Matt?” Rollo said. “After you save our Starlight?”
“Got an invite to join my buddy David Letterman on Late Night. Then I’m filming a rom-com with Cindy Canon this summer. Should be fun.”
“Is it true Harlow Hayes lives in Sea Blue Beach these days? I’ve been stuck in this dark studio far too long.”
“She is ... has a home here. She’s getting her life together after—” Matt stopped abruptly.
Tuesday took Harlow’s hand. She seemed rather somber today.
Rollo smoothed over the dead air. “So, Sea Blue Beachers, get out, sign the petition to stop the ugly high-rises from obstructing our cerulean shores. Save the Starlight.” Bumper music introed a commercial for First Federal Bank.
“Matt’s going on Letterman?” Nora said. “How cool. I love him. Look at me, little Nora Kittle, surrounded by celebrities and friends of celebrities.”
“Matt was swell, wasn’t he?” Tuesday said, smiling at Harlow and Nora. “I think we’ve got the momentum. You know I’ve been getting calls from out-of-town folks wondering what the blazes is going on.”
Harriet Nickle rang from Melbourne Beach to give her an earful about Harry Smith. Tuesday listened for a good twenty minutes before Harriet took a breath and said, “I’m just preaching to the choir, aren’t I?”
Matt informed her there were a bunch of locals shocked to hear the news. Even more to learn such a thing as eminent domain existed in the United States of America.
Paul Holland was all fired up the other day, talking to Spike. “Didn’t we fight a war to keep the government from taking our property? Does President Reagan know about this?” All politics aside, it seemed a shame that a handful of elected officials could make such a monumental decision.
Ever optimistic, Tuesday imagined they’d have the number of signatures required by now, but Matt informed her yesterday they only had fifty-three.
“I should get to work.” Harlow slipped her hand from Tuesday’s. “I didn’t finish washing the front window yesterday.”
“Harlow, is everything all right?” Tuesday said. “Is it about what Matt said on the radio? He does get to talking sometimes, forgets where he is, who he’s talking to, and who’s listening.”
“No, no, he’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Before you wash windows, I was wondering if you could run the deposit to the bank for me this morning.” Tuesday pressed her hand to her lower back. “My lumbago is acting up.”
In the office, she unlocked the safe and took out the blue bank bag. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, Harlow. Matt mentioned your former fiancé stopped by for a visit. And that business on the radio, he’s just chatting. When he was a boy, if Dup and I suspected him of any shenanigans, all we had to do was buy him an ice cream and sit with him on the beach. He’d tell on himself and half the kids in town.”
Harlow reached for the bank bag. “Matt’s been a good friend. And yes, my ex showed up. Rather took me by surprise. But I showed him. Ate myself into a stupor. Ask Matt, he saw the aftermath.”
“Harlow,” Tuesday said, “can I be bold with you? Go easy on yourself. You’re healing. You’ll achieve what you’re after.”
She sighed and fidgeted with the bag’s zipper. “Xander says he still loves me, wants me back. That he made a mistake going back to Davina.” She smiled softly. “I feel like an episode of All My Children.”
“Chalk that one up for a lesson learned. Next time you feel like eating yourself into a stupor, come to the Starlight and skate. Always worked for me.”
“Maybe.” She slumped forward. “I don’t know why Harlow Hayes hurts herself to get back at Xander Cole. Or if I’m honest, my mother—but let’s not go there.”
“You’ve given them too much power. No other human should have such control. You’ve got to love yourself, Harlow.”
“I’m not sure I know how, Tuesday. My whole life has been about making others happy.”
“Has Matt told you my story? I didn’t have it easy growing up as an unwanted baby. But the Starlight gave me purpose. It became my vocation, my way to help my fellow man.”
Harlow regarded her for a moment. “Is this your way of asking me to work more hours, Tuesday?”
She laughed. “Come, follow me.” She walked Harlow out to the rink and pointed to the mural. “Immanuel here made sense of it all for me. After the rink had closed at night, I’d talk to him. I didn’t know if he was real or not, but Prince Blue sure thought he was, so when all was dark and quiet, I’d sit right here”—she stamped her foot against the polyurethane now covering the wood floor—“and talk to him. Call me crazy, but he talked back. Those glowing eyes sure took a minute to get used to, let me tell you. Especially being alone here in the dark. But know what I came to understand? Peace. Real peace. The kind no one could take. Not Leroy when he was off running with the thugs. Not war or death. And, most recently, not eminent domain. Though I’ve had my moments over the years.”
Harlow glanced up at the man on the wall and breathed in. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt any real peace. With Xander, some. I loved him so much I surrendered everything for him. Gladly.”
“Harlow, that’s what love does. That’s what Immanuel, God with us, did.”
Harlow studied the other pieces of the mural. “Who are the children?”
“You, me, anyone who’s ever come to the Starlight.” Tuesday linked her arm through Harlow’s. “You know I do my best thinking and figuring on roller skates.”
Harlow’s laugh was melodic. “You and Matt ... Harlow Hayes does not skate. She can barely run up and down Sea Blue Way.” She held up the blue bank bag. “Do you need anything else while I’m out?”
“No, no, you go on. But I’m telling you, Harlow Hayes.” Tuesday started for her office. “There’s a skater inside, and she’s dying to get out.”
MARCH 1940
“Ma, I’m going with some of the fellas to Pensacola.” LJ hovered over the newspaper spread across the Starlight’s office desk, reading an article about airplanes. The boy was infatuated with them. “We want to see Stagecoach at the Saenger Theater.”
“All the way to Pensacola? That’s the third time this month. I know you like the Duke, but—”
“Abel hasn’t seen it.”
“LJ Knight, do you think I have my head in the sand? Harriet told me he went with you last month.” Tuesday dropped the basket of dirty linens from concession on the floor. The Suds Up Laundromat had just opened, and Rupert, the owner, offered her a good deal on the rink linens. But until she decided to take him up on it, she still did the rink’s washing. “Will you cart this home? Get the washer going?”
“So you don’t mind if I go to the movies?” LJ reached for the basket.
“Isn’t the Midnight showing anything you want to see?”
“Naw, old Mr. Cranston is running Anna Karenina again. It’s almost like he doesn’t want young folk in his theater. Dale’s a teenager. Why don’t he say something?”
“I’ve known the Cranstons all my life and found that none of them have much sense.” Tuesday regarded her oldest with a sense of pride. “LJ, you’ve grown into a man now. You don’t need my permission to go to the movies, but do be careful and try not to worry this mother’s heart. Don’t go off doing anything stupid.”
“Why would I do anything stupid? I’d never worry you on purpose, Ma.”
“No one ever does. Fill the car with gas on your way home. And find Dup, tell him to make sure we have enough wood to make dinner.”
“Abel is driving.” He hoisted up the laundry basket. “But I’ll fill up the tank anyway. Need anything else?”
“Yes, there’s a pair of brownies in the skate room needing repair. I think the bearings are going. I could ask Burt, but he takes forever and a day, and in the end you have to fix his fix.”
“I’ll do it now.” LJ set the basket by the side door and returned a few moments later with the skates and the repair kit. “Ma, you know I love you, don’t you?”
“Of course. Where’s this coming from?”
“My heart, I reckon.” LJ examined the skate in his hand. “Yep, it’s the bearings.”
What was that affectionate exchange about? She’d always tried to hug and kiss her sons, especially since she didn’t have a mother’s love growing up, but they usually scrunched up and grumbled something like, “Ah, Ma, don’t get all mushy.”
With the afternoon session fifteen minutes away, Dear Dirk began to warm up the Wurlitzer with “Amazing Grace” and “The Old Rugged Cross.”
“Did you see this?” LJ nodded to the newspaper article as he removed the wheels of the skates. “Boeing is testing a pressurized aircraft cabin.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Flight is the future, Ma.” LJ smiled up at her. “I’m going to be a part of it.”
His passion for flight consumed his free time. Every spare minute, he went up in an old Huff-Daland Duster and buzzed the beach, the treetops. Anything to get time in the air.
For all Leroy’s plans to give his sons a better life—which never materialized—LJ made his own way. Even Dupree, in his final year of high school, had apprenticed himself to a carpenter, Mr. Day, who said he showed a real talent for it.
“LJ, Abel said y’all are going to the pictures.” Dup barged into the office in his usual fashion—boisterous, energetic, overflowing with life. “What time? I want to go.”
“You’re working the Starlight, Dup.” LJ’s bass voice carried more authority than a big brother’s usually would. “Ma needs you here.”
“Can’t Maggie or Jethro cover for me? Stagecoach is John Wayne. I got to see it.”
“You’ve seen it three times,” LJ said.
“So have you.”
“Jethro is out on the boat with his father,” Tuesday said. “And Maggie’s manning the concession. I suppose I could—”
“Don’t, Ma. Don’t let him off the hook.”
She brushed her hand over Dupree’s wild curly hair. “You need to sit in Travis’s chair, get this mop tamed. I’m surprised Principal Warner lets you walk the school halls.”
“I’ll go right now. Get all spiffed up for the pictures.”
“You’re not coming with us, Dup.” LJ stood, forgetting the tools in his lap as they clattered to the floor. “Even if Ma covers your shift, which she shouldn’t, you’re not going with Abel and me.”
“Abel is my friend too.”
“You’re working the Starlight. End of story.”
Tuesday startled at the edge in LJ’s voice. If something was up, he’d tell her soon enough. Meanwhile, Dup huffed off, slamming the office door so hard the light fixture over the desk swung.
“Are you sure you can’t take him along? He admires you so much. I can work the Starlight with Maggie. If I need to, I can call Sylvia or Donny.”
“You’d have tanned my hide for acting as rude as he does.” LJ had completely disassembled the skate and lined up the worn wooden wheels on the floor. “At school he’s all charm. ‘Yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, sir.’ With you, he gives lip.”
Tuesday propped against the file cabinet and watched LJ work the skate. He was right, of course. She coddled Dupree, trying to make up for all the ways Leroy disappointed him. At the end of the day, she wasn’t his father, and boys needed fathers. Girls too, if anyone was asking. She’d have liked to have known her father. Even his name would be something.
“LJ, do you ... do you miss your pa?”
“Nope.” He held up the skate to inspect the boot. The size 8R was burned into the leather sole. “Mr. Diamond is more of a pa to me than Leroy Knight. And Doc too.”
“Doc? W-when do you see Doc?” Tuesday had seen him at Thanksgiving but not since. He stayed a few days, eating leftovers and swapping stories from the Great War with Lee, captivating LJ and Dupree. One morning, she woke to learn he’d hopped a ride on an early-morning train. His absence always left a hole in the house. Maybe a little of her heart too.
“He comes by every few weeks. We go over to Eglin or Niceville. He says he don’t want to come by the house with just you there. Said it might make Pa mad, but who gives a flying fig what Pa thinks?”
“I do, and so should you,” Tuesday said. “What do you and Doc talk about?”
“Flying, mostly.” LJ worked the delicate parts of the skate so skillfully.
“Do you want to fly as a vocation?”
“I hope so, yeah.” He sighed and set down his tools. “I know you want me to stay here, take over the Starlight someday, but—”
“Someday, LJ. I know it’s not your passion. You have dreams to chase.” Tuesday brushed aside LJ’s bangs. “You need to see Travis too. Whatever you do in life, LJ, I wish you happiness. I hope you find a nice girl, get married, settle down in Sea Blue Beach, and take over the Starlight while you work on giving me a passel of grandchildren.”
“Ah, Ma...” LJ blushed at the idea of marriage and babies. “I will. One day. Promise.”
It didn’t seem so long ago she’d been the blushing bride, full of hope. “I can still see your pa sporting you around town in the crook of his arm, so proud. He was only a year older than you are now.”
“Probably trying to figure out how to make a buck off me.”
Word was spreading around town how Leroy Knight ran a small gambling ring through North Florida and southern Alabama. Along with it, he moved bootleg hooch, avoiding the Feds and their taxes.
“Not back then. You can’t remember how he used to read you bedtime stories, then sing you to sleep.”
“Well, he ain’t that pa now.” LJ dusted off his jeans and stepped around Tuesday. “I need to get a few parts for these skates.” He paused at the door. “I do want to be an aviator, Ma. Some of the fellows at the air base say I got a knack for it.”
“Then go fly, my boy. Go fly.”