Rookery Island

By Robert H Cherny

“Rookery Island” consists of the combined four works of the Stu Greene series. Stu Greene is a high school junior on the cusp of the transition from amateur to professional photographer. Skilled and creative, his photographs are routinely published in newspapers and are proudly displayed in local offices. He “accidentally” encounters a girl for whom he takes on a project to create a wild bird rookery from a large drainage pond adjacent to their high school. That chance encounter changes not only their lives but those of their families and friends as the young man carries them along in his drive to create a lasting monument of his love.
In the second book, Stu rescues his girlfriend’s college roommate’s sister from an abusive relationship. He hides the sisters and his girlfriend on his uncle’s citrus farm. While there, his roommate falls in love with his girlfriend’s roommate, his cousin falls in love with the sister, they bust a corrupt FBI agent, and Stu performs a rescue at sea. It’s just another day at the office for a journalism student in his sophomore year.
In the third book of the series, a successful software executive inherits a run-down zoo and water park when most men his age would be retiring. Even his depth of business experience is not enough to keep his adversaries at bay, so he resorts to tactics not usually associated with legitimate businesses.
The fourth volume in the series chronicles the one-year-long voyage that Stu and several of his friends take on a floating video studio that is not exactly what it seems to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert H Cherny
• Release date: Mar 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005899196

Robert H Cherny

Writing has always gotten me in trouble. Still does.I have been a fan of science and speculative fiction since I found it in the young people's section of the library. In grade school, I devoured works by Heinlein, Norton, Asimov, and Huxley among others. By the time I had finished high school, I had read every science fiction book in the town's library.When I was in high school I wrote short stories instead of paying attention in math class. This did not help my math grade and would have serious consequences a few years later.In college, I could be counted on for the divergent opinion. This was after my failed math forced a complete redirection of my life plan. A disastrous Freshman year at Brandeis University, forced a reevaluation of reading materials. Switching majors to theater brought exposure to Shaw, Strindberg, Ibsen, Stoppard, Pinter, Shakespeare, and a host of young would-be playwrights. As a technical theater major, I found that the quantity of material to which I was exposed often surpassed the quality. Too busy to do any writing of his own, I devoted his time to supporting the efforts of others.The Vietnam War brought a tour of duty in South Carolina and the opportunity to begin graduate work at the University of South Carolina. While in the Air Force, my anti-war sentiments did not become an issue, because I kept them secret. I did no writing except for my graduate school classes which I took while still in service. Even here, I was ever the contrarian, unwilling or unable to go where the others went. Fortunately, as a design major, my writing was of less concern than my draftsmanship. The war ended and with less than a month to go on my MA, and no job opportunities in sight, I left school lacking only my thesis and took a paying job at Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus World in Haines City Florida Master's degrees in the theater were not worth much in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.Fortunately, through a series of unlikely coincidences, I landed a job as technical director of the then brand new Tupperware Convention Center. At the time, it was the only full-time convention center in Central Florida. I would stay there for twenty years earning an MBA along the way although my work schedule left little time for either reading or writing except for articles in technical journals.My sudden departure from Tupperware provided the time to return to reading and writing. "Stagehands Walk" started in this period with the gracious help from the writers in the CompuServe Writers Forum. The email tag and the website name "Stagewalker" derive from this book. I returned to devouring speculative fiction reading authors like David Weber, John Ringo, Anne McCaffrey, CJ Cherryh, Kim Harrison, Tom Clancy, and Clive Cussler.A short stint at Disney Event Productions introduced me to the power of "Pixie Dust" although it would be six more years before I would figure out how to turn it into a novel, the "Fairies" series.I left Disney for Paradise Show and Design which later became "The Launch Group" where I returned to my roots in live event technical support. I took a short detour to open the Silver Spurs Arena in Kissimmee, Florida before returning to Paradise from where I have since retired."Don't give up your day job."

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Natalie Marshall smiled when she spotted Stu Greene where she expected to find him. He hid behind a bush with his camera pointed at a dark gray bird in the hedge between the football field and the wetland mitigation site.

Stu glanced up as Natalie approached. He saw the smile but ignored it. He noticed the reddish highlights in Natalie’s long dark hair as the light from the afternoon sun and the slight breeze conspired to give her a dark halo. Stu sighed. Her boyfriend was the campus bully and the school’s all-star all-American. That fact helped keep Stu from jumping up and saying something stupid to try to impress her, which he might have done anyway if he was not preoccupied. Stu shifted his attention back to his camera. Natalie’s smile broadened. Composing a text message with her thumbs, Natalie stepped on Stu’s outstretched foot.

Oww, Natalie, watch where you’re walking.

Stu Greene, what are you doing hiding behind that bush? Did I step on your foot?

Yes, will you be quiet?

Stu blinked and shook his head. Natalie Marshall was one of the prettiest girls in school. She had been on the gymnastics team last year until she had injured her wrist near the end of her final routine at the state finals last spring. Stu knew how she looked in her gymnastics uniform. As the school’s best sports photographer, Stu had taken her picture many times in her tight-fitting uniform. Stu’s photograph of Natalie holding her wrist in pain with her team around her made that week’s cover of the school newspaper and the weekend sports roundup on two television stations and the city’s biggest newspaper. Stu liked Natalie. She seemed more refined than the other girls and was one of the few girls in school that did not tower over him. She didn’t swear all the time as they did, and neither did he. To his way of thinking, only stupid people swore all the time because they had nothing better to say. She looked like she could be his sister more than his sister did. This year the only team she was on was the debate team, and their team practice pictures were not as exciting as gymnastics. Still, at the risk of offending her, Stu had other things on his mind.

That bird looking at us is a Snail Kite. There aren’t many around here. They’re mostly in South Florida and don’t often get this far north into Central Florida. It’s a significant sighting.

Are you taking his portrait for the yearbook?

Stu ignored the sarcasm. If I can get close enough. Don’t scare him away.

Sorry, I was texting my mom to tell her I would be late coming home from school, Natalie whispered. I didn’t mean to step on your foot.

It’s not like it’s such a long walk. Can’t she wait until you get there?

No. Oh, look, he tipped his head. Natalie tilted her head as she made eye contact with the bird. What does that mean?

Stu glanced at her long enough to smile. He’s thinking. He hasn’t figured us out.

Stu lifted the camera to his eye and braced the long lens with one hand and his elbow on his bent knee. The camera clicked three times.

Did you get him? Can I look?

In a minute.

He’s moving his wings, Natalie said. Oh, he pooped.

He’s going to fly. Back up!

Why?

The bird hopped up, stepped off the branch, and spread its wings. Stu stood and tracked it with his camera, clicking off a frame every second or so. He stepped back and stepped on Natalie’s foot. She squealed, and the bird flew away.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare it.

It’s okay. We can look at the pictures now. Stu held the camera so Natalie could look in the display.

Wow, you got so close. You can see the feathers on his head. Natalie frowned. He looks mean.

Oh, but he’s not mean. He’s a Snail Kite. Snail Kites are only mean to snails. That’s all they eat. That’s why you don’t usually see them this far north. They go where the food is.

Oh, look, you got one with his wings spread all the way out. I can see the color under his wings. How pretty. How did you do that?

I caught the light. If he turned the other way, we would have seen the shadow. It’s luck.

It’s not all luck. You were waiting for him. I scared him away. I’m sorry.

He’s been in that tree every day after school for a week. There must be snails in the mitigation area.

And you come every day to take his picture? Will you come back tomorrow?

I got the picture I wanted. See this one showing the coloration under his wings. I bet Mr. Daniels I could get the picture.

What did you bet him?

If I got the shot, I wouldn’t have to cover the dance club show next week.

Somebody has to shoot it for the yearbook.

Not me. Samantha likes that stuff. She’d enjoy it. Stu waved his hand to emphasize his point and then stooped down to pick up his jacket from the ground. He had needed it in the morning chill, but the afternoon was pleasantly warm. He slithered into his backpack and slung his camera over his shoulder. When he was satisfied that everything was in place, he pointed along the walkway that was their way home.

As they walked, Natalie said, I’ve seen Samantha’s pictures posted next to yours in the art room. I like yours better.

Samantha does sweet stuff. I don’t like most of her work, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Stu paused as he thought about Samantha’s pictures. She works hard. Sometimes I think she works too hard. It’s not that tough.

For you, maybe.

With digital cameras, it’s not as difficult as it used to be with film.

But you still have to know what you’re doing.

Stu shrugged. A little. Mostly it’s keeping your eyes open.

The Snail Kite passed overhead, and Stu tracked it, squeezing off a dozen shots.

Wow, did you get any good ones?

No, the sun was in my eyes. They’re just silhouettes.

Can I see anyway?

Sure. Stu ran through the pictures he had just taken.

Natalie pointed at the camera’s display. I like this one with his wings dark against the light clouds. Would you print me a copy?

Yeah, sure. Really, you like that one?

Yeah, it’s dramatic.

Sure, I’ll print it for you.

Thanks.

We need to go, or your mother will be mad because you’re late.

She’ll be mad whenever I get there.

Why?

I was supposed to tell Mrs. Bristol I was dropping out of debate team, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to drop debate team, but my mother is making me drop it.

Why?

She doesn’t think the debate subject is appropriate for someone our age.

How is ‘Global Warming’ not suitable for a junior in high school?

It’s her opinion. Look, she won’t yell as much if you’re there. Will you come in with me?

Sure.

Natalie lived a quarter-mile away from Stu in an adjacent subdivision. The subdivision Natalie lived in was newer and nicer than the one where Stu lived. Stu walked by her house on his way to school. Stu’s older brother and Natalie’s older brother had played sports together, and the Marshall family knew the Greene family, although they tended to keep their distance.

Doesn’t your mother wonder why you’re late? Natalie asked.

I’m always late shooting something. If it isn’t sports, it’s the yearbook. Besides, she knows about the Snail Kite. She’ll want to see the pictures blown up.

Do you take a lot of bird pictures?

Some, Stu blushed.

After we stop at my house, can I come over and look at your pictures?

Sure, Stu stuttered. He glanced at her and then quickly glanced away.

Natalie’s mother was standing by the front door. You’re late, young lady. You’re supposed to call me if you’re going to be late. And why is he here? Does Butch know you’re spending time with him? She blocked the door barring Stu’s entry.

Natalie pulled Stu into the house, pushing her mother out of the way. I sent you a text. Didn’t you get it?

When did you send it?

When I left school, you know they don’t let us use our phones at school.

Stu stepped up. It’s my fault, Mrs. Marshall. I was taking pictures of a Snail Kite, and I asked Natalie to stop so she wouldn’t scare it. It’s my fault she’s late.

Natalie glanced at him in surprise. This was her fight. He did not need to defend her. She was glad he did, but he didn’t have to.

Really? Mrs. Marshall arched her eyebrows in an expression that Stu had seen crumble school administrators and opposing coaches. Show me the pictures, she demanded.

I can show them on the camera’s little screen, but if you come over to my house, I can show them to you on the big screen in our living room, Stu offered.

The one in the camera will be good enough.

Stu held the camera and showed Mrs. Marshall how to advance the pictures. When she got to the one Natalie asked Stu to print, Natalie said, That’s my favorite.

You shot these today? Mrs. Marshall asked.

Less than an hour ago.

These are very nice. Mrs. Marshall handed the camera back to Stu. Natalie, did you tell Mrs. Bristol my feelings about the debate club?

I tried, but she wants to talk to you. Natalie looked away and caught Stu’s eye.

I told you to take care of this, Mrs. Marshall shouted.

Maybe I better go, Stu said.

Natalie grabbed his elbow. Please don’t go. Please.

Stu looked back and forth between Natalie and her mother. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

Mrs. Bristol said she’ll call after dinner. I don’t want to drop the debate team. Natalie looked to Stu for support, but he took a step back.

Your prom dress came in. I thought we would pick it up before dinner.

Natalie turned back to her mother. The dress can wait. Stu took great pictures of a Snail Kite today, and I want to look at them on his big screen. Stu said I could.

At school, Natalie always used perfect diction and grammar. Some of Stu’s friends thought she was stuffy because of it, but Stu noticed that Natalie was almost baby talking to her mother. Stu took a small step toward the door.

Mrs. Marshall glared at Natalie and then at Stu. Is that right?

Yes, Mrs. Marshall, Natalie can come to look at the pictures if it’s okay with you.

Is anyone home at your house? Mrs. Marshall asked.

My mother usually gets home from work before I leave school, Stu said.

Be back in time for supper.

Yes, Mom. Thank you.

Natalie dragged Stu out of the house. As soon as they were clear, Natalie said, Thank you. I didn’t want to go look at the dress, and I didn’t want to be there when Mrs. Bristol called.

Natalie spoke in the voice she used at school. Stu blinked at the contrast.

You’re welcome. I’m sure you can come over anytime you need a safe place to hide.

I am counting on it. My mother wants us to go back to Virginia and stay with my grandparents this summer so I can do The Cotillion.

Cotillion? Really? Do they even do that anymore?

Yeah, there’s a school here, but my mother doesn’t think they’re good enough.

Somehow, I don’t picture you as the Cotillion type.

Can you imagine me with a bunch of snooty rich girls with legs as long as their horses’?

Not really.

My mother and grandmother did The Cotillion, and they insist that I do it. It sounds dreadful.

I agree.

Stu and Natalie chatted about some of the other pictures Natalie had seen displayed at the school’s art show as they walked.

Mom, I’m home, Stu called as he opened the door.

Stu, come to the kitchen.

Stu dropped his backpack on the hall table and motioned for Natalie to follow him.

Stu’s mother looked up, hearing two sets of feet coming in her direction. Oh, hi Natalie, how are you?

Fine, Mrs. Greene, thank you.

That was an exciting game the other night. I saw you jumping up and down every time your brother scored a basket, Stu’s mother said.

Jason’s having a good year, Natalie agreed. He misses Danny. He was glad you came to the game.

Well, even though Danny graduated, and we no longer have a son playing on the team, it doesn’t mean we don’t care about his former teammates. Did you see the article on Jason in Sunday’s sports section? Mrs. Greene asked.

He has a dozen copies. Natalie chuckled and turned to Stu. Did you take the picture?

Yes, he said.

How did they get it? Natalie asked.

I sent it to them, Stu said.

Do you do that a lot? Natalie asked.

I send pictures, and they pay me for what they use, Stu said with a shrug.

Keeps him in ink and paper and pays his monster cell phone bill, Mrs. Greene said.

Natalie said, Stu took pictures of a Snail Kite, and I wanted to see them blown up.

Mrs. Greene smiled. Download to the shared drive so we can view them on the computer in the family room. Natalie, would you like something to drink?

Yes, thank you.

Stu’s mother returned with soft drinks. Stu ran through the pictures he had taken of the Snail Kite as well as a few he had taken at soccer practice. As a yearbook photographer, he always carried his camera. He took a lot of teasing about it, but he rarely minded because he always got the picture he wanted sooner or later.

Stu looked to his mother for approval. She had been an art major before deciding to teach elementary school. These are nice, she said, but you have better. I know you worked hard to get these, but they need careful cropping and color balancing before you can use them.

I won my bet with Mr. Daniels. I don’t have to shoot the dance club show, Stu said.

But you didn’t bet with me. Your sister is in that show, and you will shoot it.

But, Mom.

You need the practice. It’ll be good for you.

Aw, Mom.

Would you like to discuss this with your dad?

No, Stu said. I’ll shoot it.

Show Natalie the pictures you took at Viera.

What’s Viera? Natalie asked.

It’s a wildlife refuge near Melbourne, Stu said.

How do you get there? Natalie asked. You can’t ride your bike that far.

Danny’s college won’t let freshmen have cars on campus, so I get to take his on weekends until he comes back for it.

What kind of bird is that? Natalie asked.

Great blue heron.

Look at how big its wings are, Natalie said.

Stu smiled. Yeah, they’re big birds.

They viewed pictures Stu had taken at refuges and gardens all over Central Florida.

Stu, these are awesome, Natalie said.

They’re okay, Stu stammered. I mean, when you look at some of the stuff people like Ansel Adams, or Alfred Stieglitz did, it’s not really that great. Natalie’s praise embarrassed him and brought a flush to his cheeks.

Don’t let him kid you. We’re proud of his photography, Stu’s mother said. Stu, weren’t you going to Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge tomorrow? Do you think Natalie might like to join you?

Do you want to? Stu asked, turning to Natalie.

Natalie smiled a coy little smile as she thought about it. Let me ask my mother. I have to be home for dinner soon anyway.

Stu, walk Natalie back, and you can talk to Mrs. Marshall.

Sure.

Natalie was in no hurry to go home. They stopped every time some flitty little bird passed by, and Natalie made Stu try to identify it. Stu’s mother had called Natalie’s mother by the time they arrived.

Mrs. Marshall said she was not comfortable with the idea of Natalie spending the whole day with Stu. Mrs. Greene’s call had helped, but as little as she might like the idea, Natalie was old enough to make up her own mind, and Butch was out of town with his family. Even so, she hedged before she decided to let Natalie go. Finally, Mrs. Marshall said, Jason is in the regional basketball tournament at the University sports complex tomorrow night. We promised we would be there to cheer.

Mrs. Marshall, what time is the game? Stu asked.

He is scheduled to play at seven.

I can bring Natalie directly to the game if you like.

That will be fine.

Stu thought for a moment and said, Natalie, the best time to catch the birds is early in the morning. The people that are really into this get up at dawn, but where I want to go there are birds all day. Still, the morning light is best. I’ll see you at about eight. That okay?

See you then, Natalie said.

CHAPTER TWO

Stu pulled into the Marshall’s driveway precisely at eight. Natalie came out wearing a big-brimmed hat. She tossed a bag in the back seat. Once Natalie had closed the door, Stu teased, You’ll scare the birds with that hat.

Oh, sorry, I wanted to stay out of the sun.

What’s in the bag?

Maybe you can go to the game all sweaty and stinky, but I’m not. It’s a change of clothes.

Stu handed her a camera.

What’s this for?

It’s my old camera. You can’t take pictures without a camera.

But I don’t know how to use it.

Turn it on with this switch. Point it out the window. Look through the viewfinder. Press down on the silver button under your right index finger. Now, look at the screen. Does that look like what you saw in the viewfinder?

Yes.

You know how to use the camera.

Stu pulled out of the driveway.

But what about all these fancy wheels and stuff? Natalie asked.

I set it for what we’ll be doing today. When we get there, I’ll show you how the zoom works, and the camera will do the rest.

Is your new camera better?

It’s faster, and it shoots better pictures in less light, but we’ll be in daylight, so they’re about the same.

Stu had decided that they would go to Viera first and then to Merritt Island. He had one particular picture he wanted, and he needed the low angle of the light to get it. Usually an hour drive, the drive took a little longer because they stopped a couple of times to take pictures of things that interested them along the side of the road.

As they turned off the Interstate to the road to the refuge, Stu said, The Viera Wildlife Refuge is part of a wastewater treatment facility. It’ll stink when we drive by the sewage treatment plant, but once we get to the wetlands, you won’t notice it.

They drove up the dirt access ramp to the wetlands’ area perimeter road. Stu spotted a great egret lifting off from the pond. Stopping quickly, he leaned out the window and got half a dozen exposures in rapid succession.

Wow, that was pretty cool.

There’s more like that up ahead.

They made their way around the ponds, stopping to get out and take pictures. Stu parked in a wide part of the road. There’s plenty of activity here. We’ll stay awhile.

They got out of the car. Natalie had gotten the hang of using the camera and carefully snuck up on an anhinga drying its wings in the sunlight. Natalie collected pictures of snowy egrets, great egrets, great blue herons, and tri-colored herons, but she liked the ducks the best. Stu laughed as he watched her. She made funny quacking noises at the ducks and made jokes about taking pictures of duck butts when the ducks turned their heads down to feed off the bottom. She had taken a hundred pictures when a white pickup truck rolled toward them. The driver leaned out the window.

Hey, Stu, how’s the shooting?

Good, Mr. Trent, I got some beautiful shots of a kingfisher and a woodpecker.

You’ve been trying to catch that kingfisher for a month. You sure you got it?

He stood there and posed, Stu said. I got a couple of great ones. Do you want to see them?

My old eyes don’t do those little bittie screens. Blow them up and bring them by. Everyone likes your work.

Thank you.

Care to introduce me to the young lady?

Mr. Trent, this is Natalie Marshall. She’s a friend from school. He turned to her. Mr. Trent is one of the overseers for the water project.

Glad to meet you, Natalie said, relieved that they were not only not in trouble but that Stu knew this man.

You know, if your friend Stu here were carrying a rifle instead of a camera, there wouldn’t be any birds to see, Mr. Trent said.

It’s not like that, Stu protested.

I know, but there are a lot of your pictures on office walls all over the county. Mr. Trent appeared proud of Stu’s work.

A few, Stu replied modestly.

A few dozen, you mean.

Remember that Snail Kite I told you about? Stu said, trying to change the subject.

Yes.

I got him. Stu reached into the car and pulled out a picture. Look.

Very nice.

Keep it, Stu said.

Thanks. Did your dad not make it out of bed this morning?

Stu laughed. No, he had to coach practice. The team has a big game tonight.

Well, anyone who coaches middle school sports is a saint in my book. Mr. Trent turned to Natalie. Stu’s father and I graduated from Melbourne High together. As much trouble as we got into as kids, you would never have figured he’d turn out to be a teacher. From what I hear, he’s a good one. If anyone knows what kids can do to a teacher, it’s him because we did it.

He’s a nice man, Natalie agreed.

Well, Miss Natalie, it’s nice to meet you. Have you been living in Florida long?

My dad works for Lockheed. We moved here from Virginia four years ago.

Well, Miss Natalie, don’t let Stu kid you. He’s really good with that camera. And I hear he’s a good teacher. Good luck shooting. See you later. I need to get back to work.

The truck rolled off.

You know the nicest people, Natalie said.

It’s the camera. Stu shrugged. It makes friends for me. Most of the people I meet that way are nice. He hesitated and then said, Like you.

Natalie paused for a second to blush. Do they really have your pictures in their offices?

My dad printed some and sold them to friends, and some of their friends wanted copies. I don’t know how many he sold, but he said it paid for my new camera.

They spent the rest of the morning at Viera. Shortly before lunchtime, they drove toward Titusville and the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge. They stopped to eat at a fast-food place along the way. After eating, they stood in the restaurant’s parking lot, and Stu said, You want to see a great place to watch a shuttle launch from?

Have you come over for a launch?

Yeah, my dad and I have seen a couple from here. Grab the camera, and we can take pictures in the park.

They walked into Spaceview Park from the restaurant’s parking lot. Natalie spotted a wood stork cruising by overhead and, framing it with one of the space flight monuments, grabbed a couple of pictures before Stu realized what she was shooting at.

Stu looked at Natalie and at the bird. He sighted along the path she had shot and said, Nice. We’ll need to blow those up when we get home.

You think so?

If you got what I believe you got, yes. We can enter it in the school art show.

Is it as good as one of yours?

You got the shot. I didn’t. That makes it perfect.

You’re just flattering me.

Only a little. When I was here with my dad, I caught just the hint of a glow on the big Apollo monument from the sunrise. It’s one of my favorite shots.

I’m glad you like my picture.

Stu smiled. Let’s hunt more birds.

As they drove over the bridge from the mainland to the refuge, they spotted wood storks, pelicans, and turkey vultures resting on the bridge rails. After they had crossed the drawbridge, Stu pointed to the left. Want to hunt ducks?

As soon as Stu stopped the car, Natalie stepped out and stalked the hundred or so ducks, gulls, terns, and other birds congregated on the sandy beach. Rather than take pictures of the birds, Stu took photos of Natalie taking pictures of the birds. His long lens made taking candid close-ups natural. She was having a great time chasing the birds around the beach, trying to get them to pose for her.

When she came back to the car, Natalie stepped through her pictures so Stu could see them. Can I see what you got?

Stu blushed and passed her the camera. He was afraid he was too obvious, but he had liked Natalie from the day she had moved into the neighborhood.

Natalie looked at a few shots, blushed, and silently handed the camera back. Her tentative smile told Stu that he needed to back off a bit.

They drove for a few miles, and Stu turned off the pavement onto a gravel road. This is Black Point Drive. This is the best time of year to be here. Pretty soon, the water level will drop to the point that the birds can’t find fish, and they’ll hunt elsewhere, but for now, they’re here and easy to catch.

It’s so peaceful, and we’re so close to the Space Center. I would have thought they wouldn’t let us get this close.

They close it on launch days.

Must be loud when the shuttle goes off.

Yeah, must be. When we leave, we’ll go where we can see the pad better. I think there’s a shuttle out, and you can see it really clearly from there.

They found a wide spot in the road near a large pond and got out of the car. They did not have long to wait before something happened that made the entire trip worthwhile. A great blue heron lifted off from behind a bush, circled around them, landed at the edge of the pond, caught a fish, and took off, flying into the distance. Stu and Natalie tracked it, shooting as quickly as the cameras would let them.

Stu quickly scrolled back through the pictures he had just shot, pleased with what he had captured.

Let’s see what you got, Stu said.

About halfway through reviewing Natalie’s pictures, Stu said, Stop. Look at the color of his wings. Look how sharp the eye is. See the way he’s looking back at you? That’s the shot I have been trying to get for a year, and you got it. This is worth the whole day.

Natalie smiled. I guess it’s luck.

Some of it. Not all. This is a great shot.

You got great pictures, too.

They spent the afternoon making the slow drive around Black Point Drive, detouring to climb the observation towers, and talking to tourists. The sun sank low enough that the angle of the light became less conducive for pictures, so they headed back to the main road.

Rather than head out directly, they detoured to the manatee viewing platform. They watched a pair of manatees slowly parade back and forth in front of the awestruck tourists who were trying without much success to get good pictures with their tiny disposable cameras.

They stayed longer than they should have before leaving. They only got a few minutes at the turnout to take photos of the shuttle on the pad before they had to go. They picked up dinner at a drive-through and headed back toward Orlando and the sports complex. As soon as they hit the main road, Natalie texted her mother to tell her that they were on their way.

Why don’t you call her? Stu asked.

So she can yell at me?

CHAPTER THREE

They had little trouble picking Natalie’s family out of the other spectators at the basketball arena since they were the only ones wearing their school colors. The games were running late, and they arrived in plenty of time. Their high school had never made the regional level before. They were not expected to progress past this first game, but that did not dampen either the team’s or the fans’ spirits. When the game started, it was clear that they were over-matched. The other team’s players were taller and faster than their players. Still, they played as hard as they could, and at the end of the first quarter, they were only eight points behind.

The game became rougher in the second quarter. As Stu watched, he was sure he saw the opposing team members deliberately elbow and kick the players from his school. In fact, he became confident that one particular guard targeted Jason. The referee did not seem to notice the abuse their players were taking, but he was quick to call a foul on anything they did wrong.

Stu pulled his camera out of the bag at his feet. He was glad he had his new camera. When he covered games for the yearbook or for the newspaper, he took his old camera, fearing it might get damaged by something or someone flying out of bounds. He would rather take the risk with his old camera than his new one. Tonight, he suspected that the faster camera would be required if he were to get the picture he needed.

Stu changed the settings on his old camera and handed it to Natalie. Keep an eye on Jason. Take lots of pictures. The refs aren’t calling the fouls as they should.

Natalie looked at Stu in shock. The set of his jaw and the intensity of his expression told her he had seen this sort of thing before. He raised his camera to his eye. Stu collected one carefully composed shot after another. He had taken over two hundred pictures when a fight broke out on the floor, and Jason was in the middle of it. The referee called a time-out to break it up and prepared to eject Jason from the game.

Stu jumped up and ran to the coach from his school. Coach Johnson, call a time-out. Look at this. He showed the coach a picture of the opposing player’s fist impacting Jason’s face. I need to get my computer.

Coach Johnson called time. Natalie continued to take pictures of the referee and the player from the other team. It appeared as if the referee was less than impartial. Stu returned with the computer and displayed the pictures.

After looking at the images, the referee said, I don’t see anything in there that should make me think your boy should not be thrown out.

I do, Natalie said. They uploaded her pictures to the computer and displayed a sequence that clearly showed the ref with his arm around the player who had punched Jason. They were laughing about something.

Still doesn’t mean anything, the referee said.

We’ll see what the sports editor at Channel 7 thinks, Stu said.

You wouldn’t dare, the opposing coach shouted in Stu’s face.

Already did, Stu said, smiling broadly and taking a precautionary half step back.

The tournament officials arrived and reviewed the pictures. They greeted Stu’s assertion that he had uploaded the images to the television station with stony silence. They huddled for a moment before addressing the referee. You are relieved. Please leave the building. They turned to the player and said, You are evicted from the game. Please leave. Now, let’s finish the game.

Jason’s team still lost, but at least the replacement referees gave them half a chance.

As Stu and Natalie exited the arena, Stu said, Take the camera and open the flash. When we get outside, point it at the first thing you see and pop off a picture.

Why?

We want them to think we’re taking their pictures to upload to the television station.

Did you really upload those pictures?

Not then, didn’t have time, but I did during halftime. I tethered my laptop to my cell phone and sent in the pictures.

Isn’t that expensive?

Yes, but if I want my pictures used, I have to get them in fast. For sports photos, I don’t have time to get home and upload if I wish to make the nightly sports wrap-up.

So, you bluffed them, Natalie said.

Yes.

Natalie laughed. Just like we’re bluffing them now.

Yes, ‘cause if we don’t, we’re going to get the crap beat out of us.

The other team looked hostile as Stu and Natalie took frame after frame. Stu and Natalie did not relax until they reached their cars and were out of the parking lot.

* * * * *

Monday morning, the story was all over the school. At the end of the second period, the school’s principal called Stu and Natalie to his office. Coach Johnson was there.

Have a seat. Principal Underhill glared at Stu. Stu Greene, why can’t you be more like your brother? He was never any trouble. Channel 7 Sports called this morning asking permission to run the story from Saturday night. I understand you had something to do with that.

Yes, sir, we did. Jason could have been hurt if we let it go on.

I did not give them permission, and neither should you. I don’t condone the other team’s behavior, but I do not believe in trial by the media. I know you like that sort of thing, but I don’t. There are proper ways to punish wrongdoers, and plastering the pictures of juveniles in the media is not it. Principal Underhill was not known for passionate outbursts, but the activities of the other night had upset him.

Yes, sir, Stu said.

However, Principal Underhill said as he regained his composure, I understand you got some great pictures. I would like to see them later. Principal Underhill reached back to his credenza and pulled out a video camera. I suspect you know how to use this.

Stu looked at Natalie. Yes, sir, I do.

Good. Effective immediately, you will go with the team and shoot all the games with this camera and any others you care to bring with you. You are the official team photographers.

But sir, I don’t have a way to get there.

I am sure we can find room for you on the team bus. Room for both of you.

After they had left the principal’s office, Natalie asked, What did he mean when he said that you like that sort of thing?

It’s not the first time my photos exposed a cheater.

You do that a lot?

More than I care to.

CHAPTER FOUR

Stu’s father was not thrilled with Stu’s new assignment. I didn’t say anything when you dropped out of sports. I’ve supported your photography as much as possible, but if you don’t bring your math grades up, you will not qualify for a scholarship. With what we make, we can’t pay for you to go to college.

Yes, Dad, I understand.

I’m sure you do. I’ll have a chat with Coach Johnson. If you’re taking the time to go to his games, he’ll need to find a way to help you study.

Yes, Dad.

I understand wanting to be part of the tradition of photographers using cameras to influence public opinion and combat injustice. I’m proud of what you did. I’m not happy with the consequences.

Like?

Becoming team photographer and dragging Natalie into it. Even if her parents like you, which they don’t, I doubt they would like you enough that they will be happy with you spending that much time with Natalie.

Why not? Stu asked.

Because they are arrogant intellectual snobs.

But you and mom are teachers. What’s more intellectual than that?

We don’t come from their type of society.

And Butch Adams does?

Butch may not be the nicest boy, but he has won the science fair three years in a row.

He’s a bully, and his dad helps him cheat.

Even so, he and Natalie are seeing each other, and you should stay out of the way.

Stu’s sister, Debbie, interrupted, Dad, I disagree.

Debbie, this is none of your business, their father said.

Butch’s sister is in my classes, Debbie continued. She talked to me this morning. Last week, Butch and Natalie had a fight in front of Butch’s whole family. Butch had invited Natalie to the Junior Prom without paying attention to the fact that his family was going up north for their sister’s wedding. He’s known about it for months. She bought a dress and everything, and now she can’t go. Butch didn’t apologize or anything. He didn’t care.

So, what does that have to do with us? Stu’s mother asked.

Butch’s sister asked if Stu could take Natalie to the prom, Debbie answered.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Why would she say that? Stu’s father asked.

She thinks her brother is a bully. She likes Natalie and thinks Stu would be better for Natalie than her brother, Debbie replied.

I’m not sure we want to be in the middle of this, Stu’s mother said.

Butch’s sister says that Natalie doesn’t like Butch as much as her mother likes Butch’s family, Debbie said. She said that Natalie always thought Stu was kind of cute.

I would like to take Natalie to the prom, Stu said, if she’ll go with me.

Do you really want to antagonize Butch? Stu’s father asked.

It’s not up to him. It’s up to Natalie, Stu declared.

I think you should ask her, Debbie said. She’s nice, and I think she likes you.

Can we afford a tux and flowers? Stu asked.

If she agrees to go to the prom with you, we’ll get a tux and flowers, Stu’s father assured him.

Thanks, Dad.

The following morning while they were walking to school, Stu caught up to Natalie.

Can I ask you a personal question?

Natalie looked at him sideways. You can ask, but I may not answer.

Suddenly nervous, Stu looked down. Would you go to the prom with me?

What did you say?

Natalie smiled for a split second and then hid the smile. Stu saw it but was not sure what it meant.

Um, would you go to the prom with me?

Everyone knows Butch asked me to the prom. Aren’t you afraid of him?

A little, but I heard he can’t go, Stu said. Doesn’t seem fair for you not to be able to go because he can’t. I mean, didn’t you buy a dress already?

Well, yeah. Why are you asking me?

I’ve liked you for a long time, but something was always in the way.

So, why now?

We had fun taking pictures, and I thought, with Butch out of town and you having a fight with him, maybe you would go to the prom with me.

Who told you we had a fight?

Stu paused. He was about to get Debbie in trouble. Debbie.

And Butch’s sister told her. I’ll kill her.

Debbie didn’t do anything wrong.

Not her.

Debbie said Butch and his sister don’t get along. She was trying to get back at him.

And using me to do it.

I guess.

Stu, you’re a nice guy, and I like you, but Butch is my problem. Stay out of it.

Does that mean you won’t go to the prom with me?

Stu, I’ll think about it. Natalie smiled and sauntered off.

That afternoon Butch caught up with Stu as he finished shooting the chess club for the student newspaper. They had won a regional competition, and he got their official portrait.

Butch grabbed Stu by the collar and spun him around. So, fucker, what’s this you going to the prom with my girlfriend, shithead?

Stu looked up at Butch and slowly shifted his camera bag behind his body. If Butch hit him, he wanted to protect the camera. That’s news to me.

You fuckin’ ain’t going?

I don’t know.

It’s fuckin’ all over the school you asked her. People are fuckin’ laughin’ at me. You’re gonna die. Butch grabbed Stu’s shirt front and pulled back his fist.

I asked her, but she didn’t say. Stu closed his eyes and waited for the blow.

You ain’t gonna fight me?

If I fight you, we both get in trouble. If you hit me and I fall down screaming, you go to jail because you’re over eighteen and a lot bigger than me. Who’re they going to believe?

Stay away from my girlfriend, fucker.

She’s only your girlfriend if she wants to be your girlfriend. You can’t make her do what she doesn’t want to do.

Get lost, loser.

Stu quietly walked away, knowing how close he’d come to getting clobbered.

* * * * *

Natalie came over with her mother after dinner. Stu’s mother invited them in. They sat uncomfortably in the living room while they waited for Stu and his father. Debbie poked her head in to see what was going on.

Debbie, go to your room. This does not concern you, her mother said.

In a way, it does, Mrs. Marshall said.

Debbie sat down.

Mrs. Marshall took a deep breath. Stu, I understand you had a run-in with Butch this afternoon.

Yes, ma’am.

Mrs. Marshall frowned. Over Natalie?

Yes, ma’am.

Did he hit you? Mrs. Marshall asked.

No, ma’am.

Did he threaten to hit you?

Yes, but I talked him out of it.

Mrs. Marshall sighed. He comes from such a good family. He is descended from two US Presidents.

Then, he also has a terrorist in the family, Stu’s father offered.

What do you mean? Mrs. Marshall asked.

Samuel Adams was a terrorist. Even his cousin John thought so, although he had different words for it. I am not impressed by his family history or anyone else’s for that matter, Stu’s father explained.

He was always nice to me, Mrs. Marshall said. She turned to Stu. I understand you have asked Natalie to the prom.

Yes, I have.

Natalie is not going to the prom. She is my daughter, and I forbid it.

But you would have let her go with Butch? Stu’s father asked.

I didn’t know he was violent. Now that I do, she can’t see him either. I will find someone more suitable for her.

Does Natalie have no say in this? Stu’s mother challenged.

No, I will bring my daughter up as I see fit. Maybe where you live, people couple randomly, but in the society where I live, marriages must be planned to maintain standards.

That’s the most un-American thing I’ve heard in a long time, Stu’s father pronounced.

You are entitled to your opinion. I wanted you to hear this from me and protect Natalie from your interference. There will be no more photo trips. I don’t want my daughter’s picture showing up all over the Internet.

Do you really think I would do that? Stu shouted, leaping to his feet.

Who knows what to believe anymore? Good, Night. Mrs. Marshall grabbed Natalie’s hand and dragged her out the door.

Stu’s father was the first to recover. What a bitch!

The poor girl. There must be some way we can help her, Stu’s mother said.

Debbie whispered, Oh, shit, under her breath.

Stu stood in silence before shuffling off to his room.

CHAPTER FIVE

Knowing that Stu would be at the dance club show, Natalie sent word to Debbie asking that Stu bring his old camera.

How did you get out? Stu asked when he saw her.

I have friends in the show. I told my mother it would be unfair to them if I couldn’t come.

Pretty slick, Stu said with a grin.

Hey, I’m sorry about the thing with my mother.

It was intense. Are you okay?

Yeah. Natalie smiled. I like what you taught me about taking pictures. Can you show me what you do with the dance pictures?

Stu grinned. Sure. He handed her his old camera and a tripod.

The key is to not disturb the audience. You don’t move around much and never move when people are on stage. Most of the time, you need to use a tripod to keep the camera from shaking, but the hard part is that the dancers move so fast. You time your shot to come at the end of a movement and not in the middle. Because it’s so dark, exposures are long, and the depth of field is shallow. You may be better off using manual focus because the camera freaks out with this kind of stuff. Let’s set up over there to the side. We won’t be in anyone’s way, and we can still get good pictures.

* * * * *

Stu and Natalie spent the evening whispering to each other as they photographed the show. Two boys from the video club recorded the show from cameras at the back of the theater. Samantha was relieved that Stu and the video guys would be doing the most challenging job documenting the evening, leaving her more creative. She went backstage to shoot from the wings.

After the show, Stu’s family, Natalie, Samantha, and Natalie’s friend Alexis, who had driven her, reviewed the pictures on Stu’s computer over a late dinner at a nearby restaurant. Stu’s father had made this a tradition since Stu first got serious about his photography.

Near the end of Samantha’s pictures, they stopped and stared at the picture they had just revealed. It showed the ballerina in the air at the exact moment her partner made contact to catch her. They were frozen in time and space, with the light creating a halo behind them and the folds of her pastel dress translucent as they rippled around her. Everyone seated at the table knew instantly that this was the evening’s best shot.

Stu broke the silence. This is awesome.

I didn’t even know I got it until just now. I mean, I thought I did, but I didn’t know. You know the way you believe you did something good, but you’re not sure until later? You could have done it if you had been there, Samantha said.

I would never have seen that shot. You need to see the shot first to take it. You anticipate it in your mind. This is beautiful. This belongs in a dance magazine.

You think so? Samantha asked.

Yes, I do. Natalie, what do you think?

Natalie smiled. I love the colors and the way the light plays across the faces. Look at their concentration. This is very nice. If we had seen this first, I would not have bothered showing you my pictures.

You took excellent pictures, Samantha said.

Stu’s father said, Samantha, get model releases from the dancers, and I’ll see if I can sell this along with some of Stu’s work.

Would you do that? How do I get model releases? Samantha asked.

Meet me after school in the art room, and I’ll give you the forms, Debbie said.

Really?

Really, Stu’s mother said with a smile. This is that good.

But don’t I have to pay them or something? Samantha asked.

Debbie said, We’ll make a couple of large prints of the picture to give them, and you should make CDs with the other pictures you took of them. You give them the prints and the right to use the images on the CD for their résumés or however they need them. They give you the same right to use the images. It’s all legal.

Samantha looked to Stu’s father for support.

She’s right, Stu’s father answered. As long as you don’t use the picture for advertising, you don’t need a model release, but having one protects you from questions later.

If you can get the releases by Tuesday, we might be able to get a picture published in Friday’s Arts section, Stu thought out loud. They don’t pay a lot, but they do pay.

Can we do that? Samantha asked.

If we get the pictures submitted in time with releases and the editor likes them, yeah, Stu said. It’s worth a try. If we had the releases, I’d submit them now.

How would you do that? Samantha asked.

Dad and I know every restaurant in the area that’s open late and has free Wi-Fi. That’s why we came here. It’s one of our favorites, Stu replied.

Is that how you got Jason’s picture in for that piece in the sports section? Natalie asked.

Dad and I had the article written for them before we sent it in, Stu said.

They headed home after finishing dinner. Stu and Natalie had a new appreciation for Samantha’s work.

* * * * *

As Stu walked to school, he smiled as he passed Natalie’s house, thinking of how much he had enjoyed the dance show he would have hated had Natalie not been there. Even more, he was glad that his being there had enabled Samantha to get the most magical picture of the evening. It was a great shot and would go a long way to helping Samantha’s confidence in her skills as a photographer. He hoped she would get the releases so they could get the picture published. He knew how great it felt to see your name in the credit line for a photo in the newspaper.

Jason stepped out of the house, tossing his backpack over one shoulder as Stu approached. Before the infamous regional basketball game, Stu had known Jason by name only. Jason and Danny had been a dominant pair on the basketball floor, but they did not get along off the floor. There were a lot of people that did not get along with Danny, Stu among them. After the game, Jason greeted Stu pleasantly when they ran into each other, but that was the extent of their relationship. Jason was known to be a private person. Athletic and strong, he kept to himself and said little in public. When asked, his teachers would comment that with Jason, he had a lot going on under the surface, and he kept his privacy for a reason. Stu knew Jason had been held back twice in elementary school and was not a stellar student, but he did his work and got by. He was older than his classmates and always seemed like the odd man out.

Stu was surprised when Jason stepped up beside him as they walked to school. Do you want to take Natalie to the prom? Jason asked.

Yes, Stu replied.

She wants to go with you. Write an email to my dad. Send it to my email, and I’ll forward it. He’s in the Mideast somewhere working on top-secret robots or something, and I can’t give his address. Tell him everything that’s happened since the day you and Natalie took pictures of the Snail Kite.

You knew about that?

She tells me everything. She likes you. Write the email to my dad about why you want to take Natalie to the prom and why you want to take pictures with her and promise photos of her won’t show up on the Internet. I’ll send it, and we’ll see what happens.

Thank you.

You’re welcome. If Natalie’s pictures do show up on the Internet, I’ll kill you myself.

Got it.

* * * * *

The following evening, Natalie and Mrs. Marshall appeared at Stu’s front door. Natalie looked as if she had been crying.

Mrs. Marshall did not wait to be seated before lighting into Stu, Do not contact my husband, or you will never see Natalie again. Do you understand me, young man?

Before Stu could answer, his father interrupted, What have you done?

I sent Jason an email explaining why I wanted to take Natalie to the prom, and he forwarded it to his father, Stu answered.

Why? Stu’s father asked.

Because Jason suggested it, Stu said.

I have already dealt with him. Mrs. Marshall proclaimed.

So, can he take her to the prom or not? Stu’s father asked.

Her father says she can go with Stu. I have no say in the matter. Mrs. Marshall said as she stormed out, leaving Natalie behind.

Natalie stood trembling in her mother’s wake.

Mrs. Greene put her arm around Natalie. Are you all right? Can I get you anything?

Natalie shook her head and sat down. After a moment, she looked up at Stu. You sure you want to go to the prom with me? I’ve caused you trouble.

Stu grinned. Yes, I want to go to the prom with you.

What time should I be ready?

I’ll pick you up at six. We’ll go somewhere nice for dinner and then go to the prom.

* * * * *

The two weeks before the prom flew by. With classes, homework, shooting the games, and the photography Stu did for the school paper, he and Natalie barely noticed the time pass until the day before the prom. Stu’s parents made good on their promises of a tux and flowers. Debbie and their mother supervised every step of the process. Stu almost felt as if he was getting married instead of just going to a prom. Friday afternoon, when Stu arrived home from school, Debbie was waiting for him.

Debbie was so excited she was bouncing up and down. Mom has a surprise for you. She giggled and held the door open for Stu.

Mom, Stu’s home.

Stu. Come to the kitchen.

Stu went to the kitchen with his sister bouncing behind him. Stu, how much homework do you have tonight?

Maybe an hour. The teachers said they knew better than to assign work on prom weekend because none of it would be done.

Stu’s mother smiled her I’m up to something smile. If you wash, wax, vacuum, and polish my car, I’ll let you take it to the prom.

Really?

Told ya, Debbie shouted.

Promise to be careful driving. That car is a cop magnet. No tickets, Stu’s mother cautioned, handing him the keys.

Yes, Mom.

You better start now.

Yes, Mom, thank you.

Stu headed for the garage with Debbie right behind him.

Where do you think you are going, young lady?

To help? Debbie turned back around as Stu went to the garage.

You still have homework.

Mom.

Homework.

Yes, Mom.

Stu worked on the car’s interior until late that night. First thing in the morning, he brought it out to the driveway to wash and wax it. By lunchtime, it glistened like it was new.

Debbie insisted on riding the few blocks to Natalie’s so she could take pictures. Since neither Stu nor Natalie would have cameras, somebody had to do it, and Debbie was adamant that she be the one.

Stu pulled into Natalie’s driveway at two minutes before six. Mrs. Marshall was staring out the window as he arrived. Debbie grabbed a couple of shots of the astonishment on her face. Stu stepped up to the door precisely at six and rang the bell. Jason answered the door. He looked beyond Stu and said, Where did you get that?

It’s my mother’s.

Wow. Jason brushed past Stu to look at the car.

Stu stepped inside. Mrs. Marshall glared at him. She’ll be right here. Have her back by midnight.

Yes, Mrs. Marshall.

Wait outside.

Yes, Mrs. Marshall.

Natalie came out, and Mrs. Marshall slammed the door behind her. The door slam startled her, but she gracefully flowed down the front steps to the driveway.

Stu took a deep breath and stood transfixed.

The flowers, stupid. Debbie elbowed him.

Stu smiled. These are for you. He stood and stared at her.

Debbie shook her head and grabbed the flowers from her brother’s hand. He’s hopeless. Let me help you. Debbie pinned the flowers to Natalie’s dress while Stu pretended he was a statue and Jason ogled the car. Once Debbie was satisfied, she ushered Stu and Natalie to a place she had chosen for their pictures. Debbie carefully composed portraits of Stu and Natalie in different settings and collected a hundred shots before letting them leave.

Stu helped Natalie into the car.

Where did you get a Corvette convertible? Natalie asked.

It’s my mom’s. She was something of a wild child. Kinda still is.

I never would have guessed.

Not many people know, but vacations are a lot of fun.

It’s beautiful.

So are you. I won’t put the top down until after the prom.

Where are we eating? Natalie asked. I’m starved.

I have a romantic candlelight dinner planned at my favorite Italian restaurant.

Stu carefully parked in the lot for the office building next to the restaurant rather than in the restaurant’s lot to be assured of empty space on either side of the car.

The hostess greeted them and ushered them to a booth away from the busy front rooms.

The waiter came over immediately. Good evening Mr. Greene, Miss Marshall, you are looking splendid this evening. Prom night?

Yes, Tommy, how are you this evening? Stu replied graciously.

Very well, thank you.

Tommy lit the candles and listed the specials.

Stu and his family often dined in this restaurant, so he knew the staff and management. Throughout the dinner, people stopped by to tell them how wonderful they looked together. The strolling violinist played them a romantic ballad before moving on. The owner came by to tell them how honored he was that they came there for their prom date. Stu and Natalie enjoyed the dinner and the warmth of the staff’s attention. The best part was they got through the dinner without spilling anything on themselves.

Do you always get this much attention? Natalie asked.

No, but it is cool.

When the dinner was over, they got up to leave.

Don’t you have to pay? Natalie asked.

My dad and I took care of that this afternoon. That’s how they knew who you were.

Oh.

They pulled into the driveway of the hotel where the school had rented the ballroom for the prom. Stu stopped the car by the side of the driveway.

Do you want to make a splashy entrance? Stu asked.

What do you mean?

I’ll put the top down. I’ll go slowly, so I don’t mess up your hair.

Sounds like fun.

Stu opened the convertible top and drove to the hotel’s covered entrance.

Several of their friends stood outside waiting for others to arrive as Stu and Natalie pulled up in the electric blue metal-flake Corvette convertible. All conversation stopped as the valet parking staff helped them out of the car.

Principal Underhill was among the crowd outside. Is that what I think it is?

One owner. All original parts, Stu replied. New custom paint and hand-made custom upholstery.

Stu slipped the valet a generous tip. Please park it in a covered space.

Certainly, sir.

Stu and