“Thanks, Dodie,” I said. “I'll think I'll head to the RV.”

  The RV was my home away from home. A few years ago, a tourist had paid a small fortune to have it shipped to the island and ended up giving it to Aunt Sam when he ran out of money and couldn't pay his bill. Aunt Sam offered to let me live in it rather than share a room with her or Dodie and I jumped at the chance. It's old but very comfortable, with a nice kitchen, shower and queen sized bed. It's parked on a cement slab just 15 feet from the kitchen door, which is very convenient, although at this moment, there was a strange man trying to peek in one of it's windows.

  “Can I help you with something?” I asked.

  The man nearly jumped at the sound of my voice, and whirled around to face me. He appeared to be middle-aged, given what little I could see of his face beneath the large purple sunglasses and battered Fedora he was wearing. He had on a bright blue shirt printed with colorful parrots, chino shorts, and knee-high socks decorated with monkeys chasing goldfish up and down his calves. Or maybe the goldfish were chasing the monkeys. I didn't look carefully.

  “Er, excuse me,” the man said, nervously tugging on his mustache. “I was supposed to meet my friend here, yeah, and I didn't see him around and I uh, thought he might be in that big doohickey over there.”

  “Oh, is he an Auk?”

  “Uh, no, I think he's Presbyterian. Anyways, it looks like we got our wires crossed. Isn't that just like ol' Fred- uh, that's my friends name, Fred. I'll just have to hunt that rascal down, I guess. It's been nice talking to you, yes it has!”

  I watched as he hurried down the driveway and disappeared around the corner of the house. I shook my head and opened the door of the RV. Another weird encounter in a day full of weird encounters. Still, it could have been worse. He could have given me another bundt cake.

  Chapter Two

  “Baaaazoom! Gooooooood morning Admiral Archibald Falls! This is Harold 'Busy Bee' Busby making the flights of all you worker bees easier so you and your honeybees don't get stung by traffic jams as you swarm to your jobs! Here's the latest traffic report: There isn't any. And checking the weather here at BZZZ, your favorite island station, today looks the same as yesterday and if you can't remember what yesterday was like, we want to remind you to buy a bottle of Grabba Memory, a patented memory enhancer available only through mail order-”

  I almost fell out of bed reaching for the off button on the old clock radio. I had decided to set it to wake me up this morning because I was so tired that I was afraid the alarm on my phone wouldn't be loud enough to do the job. This was the first time I had ever used it. It would also be the last. One morning with Harold “Busy Bee” Busby was enough to last a lifetime.

  I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I looked like an extra from The Walking Dead. Being woken up every few hours by drunken Auks knocking at your door asking how to find the bed and breakfast that's 15 feet away will do that to you. After a quick shower and a halfhearted attempt at making my hair look presentable, I pulled on some purple shorts and a lavender tee shirt and headed for the door.

  Before I could get there I heard a knock and when I opened the door, Nick was outside, leaning on his motorcycle. I impulsively threw my arms around him and said, “Oh, thank God you're not an Auk.”

  Nick hugged me, gave me a nice kiss and said, “Yes, I thank God for that everyday. But how much of that hug was because you're happy to see me, which is completely understandable, and how much is because I just happened to be standing in an Auk-free zone?”

  “Ninety-nine per cent you and one per cent that other thing that you just said,” I replied. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I'm here not taking Auks on an early morning fishing trip.”

  “An early morning fishing trip? They didn't get to bed until almost dawn. I don't think that's happening.”

  “Me neither,” Nick's said. “I always make everyone pay in advance, so when this happens I get paid but I don't have to work. Best kind of job a person can have. Anyhow, their loss is your gain. Come on, I'll take you out for breakfast.”

  “I wish I could, but I need to check with Dodie. She's probably going to need my help getting breakfast ready.”

  “I've already checked in on Dodie, and she is very busy not making breakfast for the comatose Auks. So hop on,” Nick said, slapping the seat of his motorcycle. “I'm hungry!”

  Ten minutes later, Nick's red 2007 Yamaha Road Star pulled to a stop in front of the Beach Buddies Breakfast Bar. The main street was a sea of brightly colored booths and tents selling their goods and crafts for Archie Gras and there were already quite a few shoppers looking around. The restaurant was only about half full and the teen-aged waitress came to our table to take our order right away. At least I thought that was why she came to the table.

  “Oh, this is so great!” the girl said. “You're that teacher who actually discovered Justin Bieber! When you see him next time could you get his autograph for me?”

  Before I could say anything, Nick said, “She'll be happy to do that. I suppose you'll want to take our order now.”

  “Absolutely! Gosh this is so exciting! So what can I get you?”

  I ordered the Greek potato omelet which consisted of spinach, grated potatoes, feta cheese, kalamata olives, and tomatoes. That should keep me full all day. Nick ordered ham and eggs, with a side of grits and pancakes. When the waitress returned with a basket of biscuits she said, “Oh, by the way, I should tell you that my name is Crissyy with two y's at the end, so you can tell Justin and also I called my boyfriend Jason so he can come over here to meet you. He's entering the talent contest because he does this really great slam poetry. I know you'll just love it.”

  “Gosh! You need to call Jason back right away and let him know that the rules are that you can't do slam poetry in public before noon,” Nick said. “You wouldn't want him to be disqualified.”

  “Oh, I didn't know that. I'll call him right now.”

  After she left, Nick said, “So, your Aunt got you this year. So much for blood being thicker than water.”

  “She hasn't got me!” I said. “I'm a grown woman and I can't be forced to judge a kid's talent show if I don't want to!”

  “You're still in the denial phase, I see. I thought all the same things a few years ago when she started the rumor that I had been a member of the Backstreet Boys. It was pretty much a runaway train after that.”

  “You? A member of the Backstreet Boys? And people believed that?”

  “Why not? Can you name any of the Backstreet Boys?”

  Okay, he had a point there. “But you're not old enough to be a Backstreet Boy. Most of them are pushing 50 now. How could anybody think that you-”

  “Teri, Teri,” Nick said soothingly as he patted my hand, “You're on Admiral Archibald Falls Island, a place where critical thinking and math skills go to die. You can't fight this thing. The best you can hope for is to get through it with a minimal amount of psychological trauma.”

  “Too late for that.”

  “Anyhow, the best advice I can give you is to give First Prize to Roddy Davis. His mother makes those Smith Island cakes with a metric ton of icing and he can play Megadeth's 'Tornado of Souls' on a plastic school recorder. It's a no-brainer.”

  “Oh, that's a big help. And what about all the angry parents whose precious darlings didn't win?”

  “Well, I suppose some of them will use it as an opportunity to teach their kids the importance of trying your best even thought you can't always win, and the rest will retaliate against you.”

  “Retaliate?”

  “Well, I did have a guy drill holes in my boat, and one old grandma punched me in the face, but otherwise everyone was pretty chill.”

  “Someone punched you?”

  “Margaret Pigwhistle.” Nick said. “She was mad that I didn't pick her rapping grandson, Ferdy. He called himself Notorious P.I.G. He did a rap about his parent's fruit growing business, and nothing rhymes with orange, so I stand by my decision.”

  “This is crazy! There has to be some way out of this.”

  “Well, you could always fake your death.”

  “What?”

  “Sure, we'll just hop on my boat and I can spirit you away to Mexico. Then I'll come back and tell everyone that you died in a bizarre curling iron accident. Of course you'll need a new identity, passport, money, stuff like that, but I know a guy down there that can help with all that. I'm 55% sure he's not a drug lord so-”

  “I'm not going to fake my death just to get out of some stupid kid's contest!” I interrupted angrily.

  “Okay, okay, scratch Mexico,” Nick said. “What if I just drop you off on one of the little uninhabited islands near here? I'll come back for you in a week or two after everything has blown over and you'll have this cool story you can tell everyone about how you were stranded on an island.”

  “And how exactly am I supposed to eat while I'm stranded on this island for a week or two?”

  “You could forage. It would be like being on your own episode of 'Naked and Afraid'.”

  “You're as crazy as the rest of them,” I groaned, laying my head on the table.

  “Yes, but the difference is, I'm crazy about you.”

  Crissyy with two y's came back with our breakfast and a message from her slam poet boyfriend, saying he would be glad to meet me in the parking lot behind the high school after his karate lesson was over. But the food was terrific. The Beach Buddies really know how to cook and I had forgotten how hungry I was.

  Nick was crazy about me? I kept turning that statement over in my mind like a Rubik's Cube as I ate. What did he mean exactly? Was he just joking? Sure, Nick and I liked each other. You could even say we were- what? Friends? No, we were definitely more than friends... weren't we? In a relationship? That sounded kind of serious and I wasn't ready for something serious yet. Not so soon after breaking up with Walter. But was Nick serious? “Crazy about you” sounded kind of serious. Unfortunately, I've never been very good at Rubik's Cubes and by the time we were done eating, I was no closer to a solution.

  Nick got up from the table. “Come on, babe, I had better get you back before your aunt thinks I've spirited you away for a life of adventure on the high seas.”

  “I've had worse offers in the last two days,” I sighed.

  When we arrived back at the B&B, Nick pulled up in front of my RV and said, “You know, I could always be your bodyguard.”

  “My bodyguard?”

  “Why not? The president has the secret service. Actors have their security teams. I could follow you around 24/7 protecting you from the wrath of vengeful parents. I'm very capable, you know.”

  “Said the man who got beaten up by a grandmother.”

  “I didn't get beaten up! I got punched, and that only happened because she feinted with her left and then came in with her right. I'll be watching for it next time.”

  “Oh well, when you put it that way-”

  “Of course,” Nick continued, “if I'm going to protect you around the clock, I will have to spend the night with you in your RV. Just in case there's any midnight guerrilla warfare. Some of these soccer moms can be pretty sneaky.”

  “Nice try,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Hey, you miss 100% of the shots you don't take.”

  “I had better get inside,” I said, smiling in spite of myself. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Anytime,” Nick said as he gunned the motor and turned onto the street. “Think about my offer! I've got skills!”

  I laughed and waved as he disappeared down the street. Nick was definitely one of a kind.

  “Halloo!” Dr. Brad's voice boomed as I entered the front door of the B&B. Aunt Sam and Bertie were sitting on the sofa in the living room and Dr. Brad was standing nearby carrying his bonsai tree under one arm and a very large book under the other.

  “Hello, Teri,” Aunt Sam said. “ Brad and Bertie have dropped by for a visit.”

  “Well, we can't stay long,” Dr. Brad said. “We're on our way into town and since we were in the neighborhood, I thought I'd stick my head in the door and say hello.”

  “Oh yes,” Bertie chimed in. “Bradley's taking me shopping. I guess I was in a bit of a hurry when I was packing and I forgot a few things. Isn't he a dear? And still single too! I can't believe someone hasn't snatched him up yet. Well, maybe that will change now that I'm here. I'm quite the matchmaker, you know!”

  “Yes, well...” Dr. Brad said, his face turning red.

  “Why don't you have a cool drink before you leave?” Aunt Sam said. “Dodie made the best pineapple iced tea today and I think you'll enjoy it. Would you like to help me get it, Bertie?”

  “Oh, I would love to,” Bertie said, but then paused, looking at Dr. Brad. “Will you be okay while I'm gone, Bradley?”

  “I'm sure I can manage. I won't play with matches or run with any sharp objects.”

  After Bertie and Aunt Sam left the room I asked, “So, how are things going? I guess it's nice to see your sister again?”

  “She's driving me stark raving mad,” Dr. Brad said. “I love my sister, but she can be a little... impulsive. I had barely gotten her settled in when she decided she was going to 'help out around the house'. So far Bertie's rearranged the furniture, thrown out some of my clothes that she thought 'didn't suit my years' and tried to get me to go on the grapefruit diet to cure a variety of maladies I don't have, but will apparently develop soon if I don't consume monstrous amounts of the fruit! The worst part is that she changed the filing system in my office. She said it would work better for me if it was like the one they had at the bowling alley. Apparently they don't use the alphabet at the Doylett Bowl.”

  “I'm, uh, sorry about that.”

  “No matter, it's only temporary. At least, I hope it is.... Which reminds me, Teri, I have a big favor to ask of you.”

  “Sure, anything I can do to help.”

  “I need someone to take care of my bonsai tree,” Dr. Brad said, sitting the plant on the sofa beside me. “I caught Bertie taking it out to the trash this morning! For some reason she thought it was dead and she was actually going to throw it away. Can you believe it?”

  “I can't imagine how she could make a mistake like that,” I lied.

  “Well, I suppose you can't expect a small town girl like Bertie to recognize an exotic bonsai tree, but just the same, I would feel better if you could keep an eye on it for me until this situation gets resolved. I'm sure it won't be long.”

  “All right, I'll do my best,” I said. How hard could it be to take care of a little plant?

  Apparently, pretty hard. “Teri McAfee, you are a saint!” Dr. Brad said, and handed me the enormous book he had under his arm. It was titled “The History and Care of the Bonsai Tree.” Great. Dr. Brad must of noticed my horrified expression, because he quickly added, “It's not necessary to read the whole book. Most of it is historical treatises on the bonsai tree, although the part about Genghis Khan was pretty compelling. The actual instructions for caring for the tree are in a small chapter in the back.”

  “Okay,” I said, breathing easier. “That sounds doable.”

  “Of course it's important that you follow the instructions to the letter. Bonsai trees are very delicate and the slightest deviation from the instructions could mean the difference between life and death.”

  My mind called up a repressed memory of my best friend in high school asking me to watch her African violet for a weekend. I don't know what happened, but it was dead by Saturday morning and by Monday my best friend was my ex-best friend.

  Before I could think of some kind of an intelligible response, Dr. Brad's phone rang. “Hello? Robbie! How's it going? I was just-” Dr. Brad paused to listen. “What the heck was your grandfather doing in a bouncy castle? I specifically told him at his last physical that he-” Another pause. “I don't care if it's his granddaughter's birthday, a man his age has no business-” A very long pause. Dr. Brad looked defeated. “No, no, just keep ice on it. I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes... Yes... Thank you, Robbie. Goodbye.” He turned to me and said, “I'm afraid I need to ask you for another favor, Teri.”

  “I hope it doesn't involve first aid,” I said. “All I know how to do is put Spongebob band aids on boo-boos.”

  “Nothing like that,” Dr. Brad laughed. “As you probably gathered from my phone call, there's a slight medical emergency I need to attend to. Could I ask you to take Bertie into town for her shopping trip?”

  “Of course, I'd be glad to. I love to go shopping and I wouldn't mind looking around at the Archie Gras booths, too.”

  “Thank you, Teri. I reiterate my previous assertion that you are a saint. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

  The door had barely closed after Dr. Brad when Aunt Sam and Bertie returned, drinks in hand. “Where's Bradley?” Bertie asked, looking worried. “Nothing has happened to him, has it? I was only gone for a minute.”

  “Dr. Brad had to leave,” I said. “There was a medical emergency.” Bertie looked horrified. “I mean, he was called away for a medical emergency,” I said quickly. “Someone else's medical emergency. Dr. Brad is fine. In fact, he asked me to take you into town to go shopping... if that's okay?”

  “Oh, that would be lovely!” Bertie exclaimed. “This will be be so much fun! I love Bradley, but you know how men can be when you're shopping.”

  “Of course,” I said. I had no idea how men can be when you're shopping, but it seemed like a good idea to agree.

  “I'll have Dodie call Brody right now and he can give you a ride,” Aunt Sam said.

  “No need,” Bertie replied. “Bradley said it's only about a mile to town from here, so we can just walk. It's only ten blocks, after all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course! I love to exercise, and this is a beautiful day for a walk.”

  “Okay, let's go, “ I said.