“What do you propose?”
“Couldn’t Soupy be more like Puff the Magic Dragon?”
He scrunched his face. “But Soupy is real. I’ve seen him. I don’t want kids thinking they can ride on his back or pet him. Can you imagine the lawsuits?”
Her stomach twisted. She didn’t want to stop the creativity, but Seth needed to be grounded in some reality, or the project wouldn’t take off.
“I don’t quite follow why you want me to turn him into a fairy tale,” Seth said.
She was glad he cut through her thoughts. She wasn’t sure where she was heading either. She cleared her throat. “What else can be said about history? You have something unique to offer here. Have you ever considered writing a different sort of book?”
“Sure, of course I have.” He shrugged.
She relaxed, letting out a ragged breath.
“I’ve been working on a memoir for years. Nothing is written down. I just sort of think about what I would include. I use my phone to record my thoughts sometimes. Dad and I researched for years. He motivated the whole project. He encouraged me every step. Sharing my experiences might be just what others need to explain their paranormal encounters. Give others tools to advocate for themselves.”
It was hard to argue with sweet, sincere Seth. She’d probably love to read his book about searching for Soupy with his dad. The retelling of a wonderful parent and child relationship would only add to the ache and longing for something she’d never had. “A memoir is one angle. But I’m thinking about Soupy from a children’s picture book perspective. That’s your best bet for merchandising and scaling up. Good IP is priceless. Could Soupy teach a lesson?”
“He can explain about being a mosasaur. Also, hopefully he can shed light on some new research. Mosasaurs lived in shallow salt water, but there is evidence of freshwater mosasaurs, too. Did you know plesiosaurs lived in freshwater rivers? A lot of exciting developments.”
She nodded, her lips straining under the weight of pleasantries. Had Seth missed his calling? He had a lot of enthusiasm. “Or maybe he’s lonely? Having a hard time fitting it until he learns he has to stand out?”Is that me?The conversation was derailing. She came as a concession to Christopher and was now uncovering more of her insecurities than she had ever guessed existed.
“So… not roaming the lake?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll give it a try. I want to stick to the facts about Soupy and not write some fantasy about the monster. But maybe I can explain how the prey has evolved as the landscape has changed? I’m sure the science could be really interesting to schools to help keep kids engaged in learning.”
She held his stare. Was she this hard-headed about the ghost? An accident sparking the fire was the most rational explanation. Her memory wasn’t infallible. She didn’t think she could have caused the blaze, but how else could she explain it?
The explosion was simply the next step after the building suffered so much damage. Maybe she was wrong. The strange skin-crawling encounters were hard to explain. The emotions clogged her throat, and the moments were locked in her visceral awareness. Something lingered at that lighthouse. Christopher was on board to meet her tonight. She’d propose a stakeout. And she’d prove she wasn’t making up the incidents. They could both be right.
She had to have him on her side.
“Yes, that would be a great start,” she said. “I am curious about something. The other day at the ice cream shop, you mentioned an encounter with Soupy?”
“Yep. As a kid.”
“Tell me more.”
“Do you really want to know? You aren’t worried you’ll get too scared to get into the water?”
Not likely. She didn’t want to discourage him. She had the sense Zach and Christopher didn’t believe Seth as much as they supported him. She wanted more information before she got on board. Someone didn’t claim to see a long-extinct dinosaur relative with no reason behind it nor did a person perpetuate the myth without having a strong positive or negative memory attached to the moment of discovery.
She wasn’t seeking to make sense of the psychology behind Seth using his fervent belief for Soupy to process his grief. She’d admit to herself that she wanted to work through his encounter to help her understand her own otherworldly experience. “I promise I won’t.”
“My dad loved ice fishing. He made me go. I hated every second. It was cold and boring. We had nothing in common. One trip, everything changed. I was alone in the hut. A dark shape swam under the ice. I got off my seat and kneeled on the ground near the hole. It opened its jaws and displayed its massive rows of teeth. I couldn’t explain it. For once, Dad didn’t brush me off when I told him or tried to explain. He listened. We went back the next weekend and the next. I didn’t make another sighting until a year later. But that didn’t discourage me. Dad got into the hunt too. We researched and studied. Once, we traveled to Chicago for a special museum exhibit about Mosasaurs. Before he died, he asked me to keep going. He didn’t want me to give up. I won’t.”
I miss my dad, too.She opened her mouth and quickly shut it. Her children’s book angle wasn’t wrong, but knowing what she did now, she’d admit her instinct had been dismissive. Seth had reasons for Soupy she could understand. She needed to support and not challenge him. Maybe someone would do the same for her regarding the ghost.
* * *
Christopher hadn’t strolled along the boardwalk in a year. He’d been meaning to for a while. The Memorial Day kickoff was more chaotic than usual, with stormy weather that continued into the first few weeks of June. After losing Xavier, however, Christopher had operated in a fog. Now, with the start of an understanding between him and Ashley, the sun burned off the low-hanging clouds, and he could see the terrain again.
And he spotted Zach Jenkins blocking his path. Metaphorically.
At the ice cream shop, Christopher dragged in the deepest breath he could and pulled open the door.
