he’s probably plotting my next trip to the correctional center.
Putting my hands on Thor’s chest, I step backward. “I thought we had a deal,” I croak. I’m breathing hard, as if I just ran the hundred meters in Rio.
Thor is bent over slightly and looks at me through hooded eyes. His lips are red and swollen, and his hair is mussed. His six-pack is still on display and his muscular chest is going up and down with his heavy breaths. “Holy shit,” he says, and I guess that pretty much says it all. “You need to stay away from me, lady.” He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath.
“You need to stay away from me. I’m already staying away from you,” I say.
“Then what’s this?” He gestures to me and back at his mouth.
“I can’t help it if you want me.”
Thor groans and walks in a circle between the trees. “I’ve tried to be a patient man, but you’re wearing on me.”
“Listen bud, if you had two nickels to rub together, you could buy me out of this dump, and I’d be on my way.” My feelings are hurt. He used to be nice, but now his military commando training is kicking in to attack me with killer aim, and my instincts tell me to fight back.
“And that’s another thing. You don’t give a shit about this place. This house, this inn, is my world, my life, and you don’t care if it burns down.”
“I do care if it burns down,” I insist. “I need to sell it and nobody wants to buy a burned building.” Thor stomps around in the underbrush. I think about the house burning. Would that be such a tragedy? “Out of curiosity, is the inn insured for fire?” I ask.
Thor stops and shoots me a death stare. “Are you kidding?”
I’m sort of kidding. “Of course I’m kidding,” I say. “Besides, I’ve figured out a way to make this place start paying right now.” There. I’ve spilled the beans. He would have found out sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.
Thor’s mouth settles into a rigid line, and he squints at me. “What did you do?”
“It’s good. It’s good,” I insist, taking a step back.
“What did you do?” he demands, taking a step toward me. Instead of the crunching sound of his shoe stepping on leaves, there’s a loud metal clanking noise when his shoe lands on the ground. Thor freezes.
“What was that?”
He looks down at his feet, and all of the color drains out of his body. “Get out of here and call 911. Don’t come back.”
“What’s happening? Why aren’t you moving? What did you step on?”
I walk toward him. “Stay where you are!” he shouts. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Geez, you really hold a grudge, you know that?” I walk closer, and then I see it. His foot is on a circular metal disk, about eight inches in diameter and half buried in the dirt.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a landmine,” Thor says. “So back away slowly and get help.”
“A landmine? Are you crazy? This is a tourist island off of Southern California.”
“There were all kinds of military exercises on this island during the war. They’ve been finding unexploded ordnance here for seventy years.”
I don’t know what ordnance means, but it sounds bad. “Which war?” I ask.
“Beryl, I’m about to get blown up. Do you mind getting help? We can have a discussion about the history of Summer Island at another time.”
The reality of the moment hits me like a train going full speed. I run screaming up to the house. “He’s going to blow up! He’s going to blow up!” I shout. I open the back door and run in, looking for Jean and Bert. “Call 911! He’s going to blow up! Hurry!”
Somehow, Bert understands that there’s a real possibility that Thor is going to blow up, and he calls 911. Jean and I wheel Bert outside, and we get back to Thor just as the emergency services arrive at the inn for the second time in a week.
Poor Thor is standing on the landmine, barely breathing and not moving an inch. “Boy, what have you gotten
Putting my hands on Thor’s chest, I step backward. “I thought we had a deal,” I croak. I’m breathing hard, as if I just ran the hundred meters in Rio.
Thor is bent over slightly and looks at me through hooded eyes. His lips are red and swollen, and his hair is mussed. His six-pack is still on display and his muscular chest is going up and down with his heavy breaths. “Holy shit,” he says, and I guess that pretty much says it all. “You need to stay away from me, lady.” He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath.
“You need to stay away from me. I’m already staying away from you,” I say.
“Then what’s this?” He gestures to me and back at his mouth.
“I can’t help it if you want me.”
Thor groans and walks in a circle between the trees. “I’ve tried to be a patient man, but you’re wearing on me.”
“Listen bud, if you had two nickels to rub together, you could buy me out of this dump, and I’d be on my way.” My feelings are hurt. He used to be nice, but now his military commando training is kicking in to attack me with killer aim, and my instincts tell me to fight back.
“And that’s another thing. You don’t give a shit about this place. This house, this inn, is my world, my life, and you don’t care if it burns down.”
“I do care if it burns down,” I insist. “I need to sell it and nobody wants to buy a burned building.” Thor stomps around in the underbrush. I think about the house burning. Would that be such a tragedy? “Out of curiosity, is the inn insured for fire?” I ask.
Thor stops and shoots me a death stare. “Are you kidding?”
I’m sort of kidding. “Of course I’m kidding,” I say. “Besides, I’ve figured out a way to make this place start paying right now.” There. I’ve spilled the beans. He would have found out sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.
Thor’s mouth settles into a rigid line, and he squints at me. “What did you do?”
“It’s good. It’s good,” I insist, taking a step back.
“What did you do?” he demands, taking a step toward me. Instead of the crunching sound of his shoe stepping on leaves, there’s a loud metal clanking noise when his shoe lands on the ground. Thor freezes.
“What was that?”
He looks down at his feet, and all of the color drains out of his body. “Get out of here and call 911. Don’t come back.”
“What’s happening? Why aren’t you moving? What did you step on?”
I walk toward him. “Stay where you are!” he shouts. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Geez, you really hold a grudge, you know that?” I walk closer, and then I see it. His foot is on a circular metal disk, about eight inches in diameter and half buried in the dirt.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a landmine,” Thor says. “So back away slowly and get help.”
“A landmine? Are you crazy? This is a tourist island off of Southern California.”
“There were all kinds of military exercises on this island during the war. They’ve been finding unexploded ordnance here for seventy years.”
I don’t know what ordnance means, but it sounds bad. “Which war?” I ask.
“Beryl, I’m about to get blown up. Do you mind getting help? We can have a discussion about the history of Summer Island at another time.”
The reality of the moment hits me like a train going full speed. I run screaming up to the house. “He’s going to blow up! He’s going to blow up!” I shout. I open the back door and run in, looking for Jean and Bert. “Call 911! He’s going to blow up! Hurry!”
Somehow, Bert understands that there’s a real possibility that Thor is going to blow up, and he calls 911. Jean and I wheel Bert outside, and we get back to Thor just as the emergency services arrive at the inn for the second time in a week.
Poor Thor is standing on the landmine, barely breathing and not moving an inch. “Boy, what have you gotten
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