1st 5 Pages November Workshop- Peterson

Name: Alanna Peterson

Genre: Young Adult Mystery

Title: CAPTAIN VALENCIA

I cannot take my eyes off of Bryce Dawson. He appeared at the edge of the wave pool while I took today’s billionth shaved ice order, and settled into his lookout spot as I placed a wad of damp dollar bills into my register.

Now he stands there in his red shorts and visor, his tanned biceps gleaming under the sun, blue eyes scanning the waves. The pool’s so crowded today that I can’t even see the surface of the water. It’s just this sea of people and inner tubes rising and falling, rising and falling. It’s hypnotic, but not relaxing. In a pool that full, it would be way too easy for someone to drown.

If it has to be somebody, I hope it’s Bryce.

The whirring blades slow to a stop, and I shape the ice with my gloved hand, still sneaking glances at the wave pool. But as I drizzle cherry syrup on the cone, Bryce disappears from my peripheral vision. I turn just in time to see a flash of his red trunks as he dives into the water.

My stomach clenches. I stare at the bodies floating in that pool, waiting for him to come back up, wishing I hadn’t been thinking about people drowning.

This can’t be happening. Not again.

The red syrup overflows, leaking out of the white cone onto my glove. I set the bottle down, then jab at the stainless steel counter with a paper towel, still keeping an eye out for Bryce.

Finally, he emerges. He’s carrying someone up the pool’s sloped ramp, but a crowd blocks my view. All I can think is, not another kid, not another kid.

When the crowd parts, though, I see the “victim”: a bikini-clad teenager whose arms are wrapped around Bryce’s thick neck. It looks like she’s about to kiss him.

Bryce flashes his white teeth at the crowd. He’s smiling. Like this whole thing is a TV show where he plays the starring role.

He sets her down and they start talking—flirting, from the looks of it. The whole thing makes me want to puke, or at least report Bryce to the manager for abandoning his post. Not that that would do any good.

But tonight. Tonight, I’ll finally have a chance to do something about him.

Tonight, he’s going to pay for what he did to my sister.

The line at my hut is getting longer. I finish up the snow cone and hand it to the wet-haired little girl on the other side of the counter. It’s way past my usual break time, and I’m very tempted to take a bite out of it. I restrain myself from slurping up the juicy ice, but she doesn’t look pleased when I place the red-and-green-and-yellow cone in her outstretched hands.

“It’s supposed to be rainbow.” She sounds semi-heartbroken, as if her whole afternoon at the water park has just been ruined by the shaved-ice girl’s inability to keep blue syrup in stock.

I probably shouldn’t care. But something about this kid yanks at my heart. Maybe it’s her chunky little torso, the way the swimsuit fabric stretches taut against her belly. I know what that’s like, and want this to be a good day for her. “I’m sorry. I told you. We’re out of blue raspberry.”

It’s been at least an hour since I radioed the kitchen asking for more. I’m also out of churros, and about to reach mission critical on nacho cheese stock. Pretty soon everyone in line will start revolting, demanding their amusement park snacks. Maybe they’ll get so angry that they’ll force me to climb to the top of the highest slide tower and walk the plank. That’ll teach the kitchen staff to forget about me! They’ll feel so terrible about my untimely demise that they’ll erect a tombstone for me in the faux-graveyard out by the shipwreck in the jungle. Here lies Valencia Roberts, the best Seven Seas employee ever to shave ice.

Luckily, it doesn’t come to that, because right then I notice Carmen in the distance. Yes. They sent Carmen! She’s pushing a cart piled high with supplies: churros in their foil-covered steel pan, three bags of nacho cheese, a fresh bottle of blue raspberry syrup.

The little girl is turning to leave, but I call to her, “Wait!” even though I should be helping the next person in the endless line. I point to Carmen, our savior. “More’s coming! Hold on a sec and we’ll fix up that rainbow!”

She grins at me, and I grin back. Working at the local water park isn’t the most glamorous summer job ever, but there’s something satisfying about making people happy. Even if I’m just handing them a paper cone full of water and sugar and food dyes.

I unlock the back door to the hut and Carmen steps inside, the squishy silver bags of nacho cheese cradled in her arms. I grab the blue raspberry syrup from the cart and screw the pour-top on. Then I give the little girl a generous drizzle. She skips away, satisfied.

“Who’d you murder?” Carmen asks, eyeing the red syrup pooled beneath the shaved ice machine.

“I’ll never tell.” I shoot her an enigmatic smile before helping the next customer in line, a mom in gigantic sunglasses who orders a fresh-squeezed lemonade.

The fragrance of citrus fills the entire hut when I crank the lemon squeezer. “Thought you guys forgot about me,” I say to Carmen, careful to keep my tone light.

“We’ve been slammed all day, too.” She opens the nacho cheese dispenser and replaces the empty bag. “You can go take your break now.”

“In a minute. If you want to help the next person, I’ll clean up a little.” Though I can’t wait to eat, I don’t want to leave Carmen yet.

After finishing up the lemonade, I pile the churros into the warming oven, inhaling their cinnamon goodness. If only I could have one for lunch! Those crispy ridges, sandy with sugar; the soft interior, flaky and sweet… closing the door on that oven is literally the hardest thing I’ve done all day.

As I scrub the syrup spill, determined to forget the churros, my thoughts wander back to Bryce Dawson. I wish this were a chemistry lab, and these bottles were full of poisonous reagents instead of syrup. Maybe I could concoct a potion that would knock out his potency. Heh. If only shaved ice syrup was that powerful.

Actually, those ice-cutting blades are pretty sharp… if I could find a way to trap him here after dark, shove his hand inside….

Nah. Too bloody. And a waste of a perfectly good machine.

Besides, as satisfying as it would be to mangle his immaculate body in some way, that isn’t what I really want. I want to pull out the ugliness lurking inside him and put it on display for everyone to see. I want him to be ashamed. Humiliated.

I want him to understand what it was like for my sister.

But, the thing is, I can’t get caught. Bryce Dawson only works here because his dad is the general manager. And if Eric finds out I’m responsible… that would ruin everything.