Chapter 2:
Miranda Richardson twirled across the ballroom floor, spinning and laughing. She came to a halt before a young man who had entered the Ocean City Music Pier's ballroom in a blast of rain and salt-laden wind. "Neil, my Naruto ball is going to be a real winner."
Thunder echoed across the cavernous room.
"Only if this storm doesn't close the bridges and keep everyone at home," he said, and handed her a foam coffee cup.
"Pessimist." She took a swallow, then threw out her hand toward the long row of floor-to-ceiling windows. "The weatherman said the brunt of the storm is going to miss us."
"If you say so." He dug her sneakers from under a chair and held them out.
Miranda ignored them and gulped her coffee. She peered from one of the tall windows. The two-mile long Ocean City boardwalk had only a few piers extending out into the ocean. The music Pier was one of them. Glowering clouds and intermittent burst of rain obscured the view. The radio had predicted that the storm would move east and miss their small coastal island, which lay midway between the bright lights of Atlantic City and the Victorian charm of Cape May. She hoped the meteorologists were right. "Don't you feel like we're on a ship right out in the ocean?"
"Maybe the Titantic? Only the iceberg's here."
"Don't say things like that!" She bit her lip. Maybe the weather would ruin the ball and all her work.
He touched her on the shoulder. "Don't worry ; this old place has taken hammering since 1928. I don't think one small nor'easter is going to knock it down. And the tickets are sold. It'll be standing room only in here tonight-storm or no storm." He moved about the ballroom, gathering assorted litter from her decorating efforts and stuffing it into a trash bag.
"Come on, Neil. I need your honest opinion. Does this look like Konoha's Hokage office or not?"
She held her breath. Neil Scott examined the ballroom, hands on his hips. Water dripped off his ancient black leather jacket and beaded in his short dark hair. Miranda noticed circles etched beneath his eyes.
"I feel like I'm in the middle of Konoha. Relax. You've recreated the village." He grinned. The sudden smile wiped away the biker-from-hell look and hinted at the handsome man he might be if he got enough sleep. "You should do stage design," he said. "It looks great. Even if Konoha villager showed up, he'd be impressed."
"Really?" She skidded along the polished floor in her socks and adjusted one of the drapes that gave the impression of a mountain. "I've spent a fortune on all this. And wait till you see my gown."
"I draw the line at fashion commentary." He bent and retrieved the remnants of silver streamers and tossed them into the trash bag.
"But I could use a guy opinion. I made it myself, you know. I hand-painted each layer of white silk with seven shades of white and silver. I hand-stitched the silver sleeve ribbion-"
"Enough. This really more information than I need."
Miranda scooped up a handful of artificial snow and threw it at him. It clung to his shoulders and hair. "What's wrong? Up too late with your coven?" He took off his jacket and shook off the snowflakes. A snake tattoo slithered around his upper arm, just showing at the sleeve edge of his T-shirt.
Perhaps prompted by the angry gray sky outside, Neil was garbed all in black. Daggers and skulls hung from one pierced ear. Miranda never minded Neil's many personas. He was just as likely to appear at the video rental shop they owned together in a white shirt and a tie. H worked hard, was always on time, and did grunt work without complaint. He was the perfect business partner.
On the front of his black T-shirt, a hideous skeleton wielded a lacrosse stick. Neil had once been a star attack player for Johns Hopkins. These days he attacked nothing more challenging than cardboard boxes that needed to be broken down for the recycling bin, his weapon a utility knife.
"Are you finished in here?" He pulled his jacket back on.
She nodded and took a last look around the room. "All that needs to be done is putting out the food."
They ran the two blocks on wet, slippery wooden boards. Her store stood in the nearly unbroken row of shops that graced the northern end of the two miles of Ocean City's boardwalk. Wind gusted from all directions. Rain fell in sheets. The Atlantic Ocean hammered the boards with savage pleasure. On the horizon, lightning flickered.
"Should there be lightning in November?" She said in a gasp, out of breath. "What if there's a power failure?"
She cast a longing glance up to the apartment she rented over her shop. She'd left a light on. It splashed a yellow glow over the small balcony fronting the apartment. She resisted the urge to go back to her warm, snug bed. Fatigue was creeping in. She'd started her decorating at dawn, and now, even though it was still early in the morning, she wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep the rest of the day away.
"If the power fails, you're cooked." He ducked under the awning over their shop door.
Miranda saw his half-hidden grin and turned the key with a jerk. "I get it. I'm obsessing. You're the pessimist and I'm the optimist. Okay. The ball will be a huge success, written up in anime magazines all over the world, the extra ten pounds I gained this summer will be adequately hidden under my flowing..." Neil dragged a finger across his throat. "Never mind," she finished.
Once inside, she punched in the code to turn off the security alarm. Neil flipped several switches, and the light flooded the shop. She tossed her raincoat behind the service counter.
Neil scooped up a white envelope that lay on the rubber mat by the front door and placed it on the counter. He slipped a CD into the boom box sitting next to the cash register. She winced as Mozart's "Jupiter Symphony" filled the shop. "Jeez," she called to him. "Do we have to listen to that stuff so early in the morning?"
Neil didn't answer. Perhaps he hadn't heard her over the music. She smiled. More likely he was ignoring her. She guessed she'd pushed him over the edge with her Naruto ball worries. He shrugged out of his jacket and began to open cardboard cartons.
Miranda set up the cash register for the day. Usually she opened her shop only on weekends in November, but this was the week of Anime convention in nearby Atlantic City. She lifted the wastebasket and sniffed. "This place smells like wet wool." She glanced overhead. 'Could there be a leak somewhere?"
A sharp rap on the window glass made Miranda whip around. "Oh dear." She waved Neil off and went to the door. She opened it scant inch. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hill. Were not open yet. Not until ten o'clock." She pointed to her watch, which said nine. She needed all her strength to pull her shop door firmly shut on the woman swathed in a rain coat, who flapped a twenty in her face. With a sigh a decisive turn of her key, Miranda locked the door.
"I'll take out the trash. Maybe that will take care of the smell," Neil propped the back door open and gathered up several plastic bags.
Miranda grabbed the vacuum cleaner and dragged it across the shop. She gave the Naruto posters an affection pat on the way past. Women and Men flocked the shop to watch the newly released episodes of Naruto.
She stepped into the entrance of a freestanding video chamber that was housing the recent episode of Naruto. It was a formed of four matte black walls.
The classical music rose to a crescendo behind her, making something else, something close and furtive. A rustle. A soft, mousy sound that tickled her spine with apprehension and froze her fingers on the light switch. Miranda tiptoed farther into the video room and flicked the switch. Light filled the chamber.
A polar bear was her fist thought. A huge, dirty polar bear lay sprawled in her video chamber, filling the space with its body and wet-animal scent.
With a scream in her throat. Miranda turned, tripped over her vacuum, and ran. She skidded on the smooth carpet and lunged out the back door.