Chapter 13
With Morgan on one side and Brett on the other, they lifted Tristan’s volcano from her rear cargo area and set it on the cart.
“I can carry the water.” The boy grabbed the jug from the back seat floor.
Moving at a slow and steady pace, the trio made their way into the school. Following the signs to the gymnasium, they found a crowd of students, parents, and instructors already setting up for the fair.
“I’m at table eight,” Tristan said.
“I see it over there.” Brett skirted the clusters of people, wheeling the volcano to their designated location.
Another student, maybe a year or two younger than Tristan, greeted him. “Your volcano is cool.”
“Thanks. Your hot-air balloon looks awesome too.” With the boy on one side and his father on the other, they carried the volcano from the cart to the folding table.
Deeming what he found to be the perfect spot, he began adding accessories—the trees, fake grass, and miniature plastic people.
“What time is Quinn coming by?” Morgan asked.
“She isn’t. She’s covering at the art gallery.” Brett pulled his sister aside. “Grandmother wanted to surprise Tristan so Quinn offered to work.”
“That was nice of her.”
“We forgot the paper towels,” Tristan said.
“I’ll go grab them.” Morgan backtracked to her vehicle and found the bag of cleaning supplies she’d packed to sop up the mess an erupting volcano created.
She returned to find father and son tweaking the project, making sure the pieces were in the perfect location per Tristan. They had just finished when the science teacher announced the fair was officially underway.
He proudly stood behind his volcano while other students, parents, and guests made their rounds.
Ben and Mrs. Arnsby arrived, oohing and aahing over Tristan’s project as well as his tablemate’s creation. They lingered for a short time to chat before heading out to return to Easton Estate.
Through the sea of people, Morgan spied a familiar face. Elizabeth, with head held high and shoulders back, walked across the gymnasium to Tristan’s table. “I hope I’m not late.”
Tristan’s face lit when he saw her. “Great Grandmother, you made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss your science project premiere. It looks spiffy, young man.” Elizabeth turned to the boy standing next to him. “What a clever hot-air balloon.”
The boy’s father hurried around the table. “Mrs. Easton?”
“Easton-Ainsworth now.” Elizabeth shook his hand. “And you are?”
“Craig Stout. It’s nice to finally meet you.” The man explained that he worked for Denver Coates over at the airport. “Thanks to you, I have a job on the island, which means I have more time to spend with my son.”
“Wonderful. I love to hear the airport is making people's lives better,” she replied.
Tristan’s classmate turned to him, his eyes wide. “You’re an Easton?”
“I…uh…yes.”
“Your last name is Blakely.”
Morgan held her breath, wondering what Tristan would say.
“I’m an Easton and a Blakely.”
Seeming to accept his simple explanation, the boy nodded. The moment passed, and they began showing a new group of visitors their projects. A half-hour, then an hour ticked by. Finally, the judges began making rounds.
Elizabeth, Brett, and Morgan stood behind Tristan, watching as he explained to the judges how he’d constructed the volcano, giving credit to Brett and Jax for their help, and then poured water into the crater.
Bubbly foaming red lava spewed out of the top and down the sides. Meanwhile, the judges jotted notes on their clipboards before moving on to check out the hot-air balloon exhibit.
Another half an hour passed. Finally, the science instructor / host announced the winners.
Morgan didn’t recognize the names. After the initial winners were announced, ribbons were awarded for honorable mentions.
“Tristan Blakely.”
Tristan darted to the stage to accept his ribbon. He joined several other honorable mentions, all of them posing for pictures and accepting applause from both visitors and judges.
Morgan, Brett, and Elizabeth waited until the event officially wrapped up and teardown began.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” Morgan said. “But an honorable mention is nothing to sneeze at.”
“She’s right.” Brett ruffled his hair. “Both you and your friend did a great job.”
“Not everyone can win,” Tristan said. “I tried, and I had fun.”
“Me too,” his classmate said. “Maybe next year.”
“Yep.” He gathered up the accessories and placed the trees, people, and props back in the bag while Morgan tracked down a trash can and tossed the wet paper towels inside. As soon as the table was clean, they loaded everything onto the cart and rolled it toward the door.
Brett and his son walked ahead while Morgan and her grandmother trailed behind. Reaching the SUV, they made quick work of placing the pieces and parts inside her cargo area.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Morgan said. “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat in town?”
“I’ll see if Quinn has time to take a quick break and join us.” Brett tapped out a message. She promptly replied, letting him know she had eaten a late breakfast, but thanked him for the invitation.
“It’s a no-go for lunch,” he said. “I guess it’s just the four of us.”
Morgan jangled her keys. “Let’s head out.” She stepped back, inadvertently colliding with someone who was walking past. She spun around, intending to apologize, and realized it was other students, a boy and a girl, both with surly sneers on their faces.
“Hey, arrowhead! Your stupid volcano didn’t win,” the boy taunted. “What a joke.”
“You didn’t win either,” Tristan said. “And I got an honorable mention.”
“At least my project wasn’t a dumb Kool-Aid trick,” he said. “Another Easton bites the dust.”
“Young man.” Elizabeth stepped forward. “Didn’t your parents teach you manners? Your behavior is rude.”
“Who are you?” The boy looked her up and down. “Granny.”
“More importantly, who are you?”
Morgan tugged Tristan’s arm, talking in a low voice. “These are the two who have been picking on you?”
He nodded.
Brett stepped in next to his grandmother. “Where are your parents?”
The boy immediately became defensive. “They left.”
“C’mon, Ruben. Let’s go.” The girl grabbed his arm.
He jerked away and shot her a warning look. “They can’t do anything to us. We’ll sue them.”
“I know who you are.” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Your behavior now makes perfect sense.”