need more water and go back to the fountain, someone will get suspicious,” I said.
“You don’t see any other water around here?” Scoobie asked.
“There aren’t any fountains down…oh, the ocean.”
“Good to see your brain is in full gear,” he said, but not sarcastically . He looked toward the boardwalk. “No one’s looking.”
We ducked under the boardwalk . I could almost stand up straight, but Scoobie is about five-nine or ten and had to bend over a lot. We kind of crab-walked about twenty feet, so we were closer to an area where a lot of people walked.
I glanced up as we sat down with the second boardwalk post behind us. That way we were well away from both edges of the boardwalk. “Some of the cracks are larger than others,” I observed.
“Yep,” he said . “I think we may have to stand to aim.”
“I’m going to try a couple of shots from down here,” I said, settling in against the pillar.
Scoobie stood up and moved a few feet away and raised his squirt gun. It was dark so I couldn’t see him spray it, but after a couple of seconds there was a squeal from above.
“Something wet hit my ankle!” a woman’s voice said.
“That’s odd, I don’t see any puddles,” a man’s voice said.
They kept walking . I had to put my fist in my mouth to keep from laughing, then I had to spit out some sand.
I crept to where Scoobie stood . He’d probably found the best spot for shooting up, so to speak. “Did you know her?” I whispered.
“Nah . Who wears flip flops in almost November?”
“Let me try,” I said, and he moved away a bit.
It took me about half a minute to get used to looking up through the boardwalk cracks and guessing about the timing of my shot. After another few seconds a knot of adult trick or treaters approached. I knew they were out for fun because there aren’t usually people in clown suits on the boardwalk. I shot upward without aiming, and pulled the squirt gun back toward me when a man swore loudly.
“Keep your damn spray bottle to yourself,” he said, in an angry tone.
“That wasn’t me. But this is.” A few drops of water fell between the cracks and a woman giggled and the guy swore again.
“I forgot circus clowns sometimes have a spray thing,” Scoobie said , but quietly. “We can try that next year.”
“The guy who go t mad should stay home,” I said, thinking I would not be in Ocean Alley next year. I didn’t remind Scoobie of this.
We kept up our antics until about nine-thirty, and then we both got really chilled at about the same time . I gestured to the boardwalk above us. “Come on, they’re selling cider at that hamburger stand. I’ll buy us some.”
We squat- walked out from under the boardwalk and were dusting off our pants when a voice came from above. “I didn’t figure it was raining up.” The cop named Tortino was staring down at us.
We both looked up . “It was Jolie’s idea,” Scoobie said.
“Hey…!” I stopped when I could tell Scoobie was kidding . From his expression, I could tell the cop knew this.
“Disarm yourselves and you can come back up here,” he said, and walked away.
Scoobie emptied his water pistol into the sand by spelling the word boo, laughing as he did it.
I unplugged the fill-up hole on mine and drained it, but I was worried. “Do you think he knows Aunt Madge? Will he tell your dad?” I asked.
Scoobie stopped laughing and considered this as he stuffed the squirt gun into the largest pocket of his Army surplus pants . “Everyone knows your aunt, but he won’t tell her. And he knows my dad won’t care.”
We walked toward the steps leading up to the boardwalk from the beach . “How come he knows he won’t care? Will your mom?”
Scoobie gave me a look that I could not interpret. “My dad will just say boys will be boys and…my mom is working tonight.”
“She works a lot .” We were on the boardwalk and I still had my squirt gun in my right hand. There was a giggle from