A Timely Vision

“Of course I will.” She smiled, her even white teeth too bright to be natural. “How much do I owe you?”

I quoted her an astounding price, probably an indecent price, but one I knew she’d pay. I could see it in her eyes. When she handed me her Visa card, she met my third qualification for ownership. I didn’t charge high prices for everything, but the really special stuff was too important to let go cheap.

“I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.” I carefully wrapped her pieces in white tissue paper. “I’ve had them for a while. I’m glad someone finally noticed them.”

Of course she gave me that you’re-a-crazy-person look, but that was okay. She’d passed my tests. I didn’t mind what she thought of me.

The other people in the shop bought trinkets, nothing of great value. Some of the things I collect for Missing Pieces are donations from people who want to get rid of stuff, like after the church rummage sale. I never develop feelings for those things, not like for the ones I find.

Once all the customers had left, I looked at the UPS packages I’d picked up outside. Adding the UPS franchise to Missing Pieces was a way to bring in some extra money. There weren’t a lot of shipments to and from Duck, but when they came through, they came here. I was proud of that.

I looked up from the boxes as I heard the shop door open. A scruffy young man with what my grandfather would call a roving eye walked in and asked about a job. I didn’t recognize him as being a regular shopper or a Duck resident, but there was something about him that intrigued me. I shrugged it off after he asked me if something was wrong and I realized I’d been staring at him for too long. I told him I was sorry but I didn’t have anything for him. He smirked and left the shop.

“It can’t get much hotter out there.” My grandfather came in right after him. “Who was that?”

“I don’t know. Just somebody looking for a job.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a red rag before he replaced his straw hat on his thick white hair. “Lots of shoppers in Duck. Have you sold anything?”

“A few things.” I couldn’t keep it from him. “The lighthouse sugar bowl and the rosewood music box.”

“I hope you got what they’re worth.”

I quoted him the price, and he whistled through his teeth. “You knew I wouldn’t let them go for less.”

“I knew.” He hugged me as he reached the counter. “Ready for your close-up, Miss Mayor?”

“I suppose so.” I smoothed down my shorts and picked up the oversized mayor’s coat again. “I don’t think they had this in mind for a woman mayor. I think the town council might need to consider changing this tradition.”

He held one side of the coat for me. “You mean you should get special treatment because you’re a woman? I thought you hated that kind of thing.”

“No. I should get a smaller coat because this one could fit Councilman Wilson, all six foot four, three hundred pounds of him. It’s a little big on me by almost a foot and two hundred pounds.”

“Come on now! The council had it tailored for you. It’s not that big.”

I wrapped the coat around me, flipped up the red ribbons and gold coins, then faced him. The sleeves were past my wrists, and my torso was swallowed by the coat. “I think they thought the first mayor would be a man, Gramps.”

He laughed. “Maybe you do need something a little different, Dae. But not right now. You’ll have to wow them with your personality.”

“Thanks.” I tried to adjust the coat again. No use. It was big and bulky, no way to make it less so. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Never mind that.” He ran his hand down the side of my hair. “You look like your mother. Those big blue eyes and your hair all bleached out from the sun.”

“And a coat that’s too big.” I grinned so I wouldn’t tear up. Talking about my mother always brought both of us to tears, even though it had been many years since her death. “I can’t cry right now. You don’t want my face to be all blotchy on local TV, do you?”

“You go ahead. I’ll mind the shop. There’s not much fishing going on right now with all the swimmers and surfers. Looks like a real high tide tonight. I hope there’s not a storm coming.”

“Nah. Not today. My storm knee isn’t bothering me. Remember not to sell anything marked with a red tag.”

“I know. Get their names. Get their phone numbers. If they pass inspection, you’ll sell your treasures. If not, they’ll have to find some others.”

“That’s right. I’ll see you in a while.”

I swept out the door with all the energy of a damp sponge. It was too hot for anything more. A breeze had come up from the Atlantic in the thirty minutes or so I’d been inside. Gramps was right. It smelled like a storm was brewing. So why wasn’t my storm knee bothering me? Ever since I’d dislocated it surfing when I was fourteen, it had let me know when a storm was coming.

“Over here, Mayor O’Donnell.” A friendly faced man beckoned me into the Duck Shoppes parking lot. Cars were starting to move again after the parade. “I thought we’d shoot out here. That way everyone gets a good look at Duck at the same time they get to meet you.”

“That’s a great idea.” I looked around at the crowd swarming along Duck Road and across the sidewalk. The rough material of the large mayor’s coat made my neck itch. It was too hot for anything except sandals and shorts, but this was what the people of Duck expected the mayor to wear on the Fourth of July. I reminded myself that it was probably no hotter today than it had been for the pirates who’d dressed like this and they’d survived.

“Mayor, we have to do something to protect the new crop of sea turtle eggs on the beach,” Mary Lou Harcourt advised me as I stopped where the TV producer told me to stand. Her craggy gray eyebrows were knit together across her forehead like a headband.

“I don’t know what we can do about them right now,” I answered, distracted.

“There’s an extra-high tide coming, and the eggs could be washed away,” she persisted. “We have to get everyone together. We’ll save as many as possible.”

“As soon as I get done here,” I promised, knowing full well I’d have to go check on Miss Elizabeth first. “What time is high tide?”

“The paper said six P.M., but the almanac says five. I’d trust the almanac before the paper. Do you think you can get the volunteer fire department to help out?”

“That’s a good idea, Mary Lou. You should go talk to Gramps. He’s at the shop. I’m sure he’ll have some ideas.”

The producer of the news show that originated in Virginia Beach counted down as the cameraman prepared to film me with the show’s host. A small crowd of people, mostly citizens of Duck, gathered around to watch what was happening. It wasn’t everyday TV shows were interested enough to come down here.

“Just relax, Mayor O’Donnell.” The show’s host, Jerry Richards, was a reed thin man with gray-streaked black hair. He wore a white suit and a blue “Duck, NC” T-shirt. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure I will.” I tried to reach the spot on the back of my neck that began itching like fire as I started sweating, but it was no use. “I hope I don’t look like an idiot.”

“Not on my show!”

The taping went very smoothly considering people were giggling in the audience as I answered Jerry’s questions. The questions were simple enough: Where was Duck located? How long had I been mayor of Duck? What was the Fourth of July celebration like?

After we’d talked, Jerry shook my hand and thanked me for the interview. I was kind of impressed since I’d watched him on TV most of my life. But I couldn’t wait to get back inside and change out of the mayor’s coat. Even though the breeze had picked up, carrying with it the scent of the ocean, the temperature was still in the high nineties.

“How did it go?” Gramps swiveled on the tall stool behind the register to look at me.

“It went okay.” I stripped off the coat, medallions and ribbons again. A person could learn to hate wearing that outfit. Thank goodness it wasn’t something I had to wear everyday. “Sell anything?”

“Nothing important. You don’t have to worry. Nothing you’ll miss left the shop.”

“Do you think you could manage for a few more minutes? I promised Miss Mildred I’d go check on Miss Elizabeth.”