Dreamland Social Club(52)
Jane just nodded, not sure anymore why, exactly, she had thought this would be a good idea. Until she remembered the photo. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions,” she said.
“About what?” he said. “Your * grandfather?”
“No.” She bristled. “About a photograph.”
“And I’m right here!” the old man said. “So no funny business.” He was sitting at the table in the adjoining dining room playing solitaire. “My own son,” he grumbled. “With that prick’s daughter.”
“Shut it, Dad,” Freddy said, then he turned to Jane. “He thinks you’re her.”
Jane nodded and pulled out the photo. “I was hoping you could tell me what this photograph is. You’re in it and it says D.S.C. on the back. What does that mean?”
He took the photo and breathed out hard, and it smelled suddenly like stale cigarettes in the room. “Even if I remembered, why would I tell you?”
“Because I’m Tiny’s daughter.” She pointed at the photo. “You have your arm around her.”
“Here’s the thing, kid.” He reached for a pack of cigarettes and slipped one out. “If I want to, you know, honor your mother’s memory or whatever, I shouldn’t tell you.”
It wasn’t the sort of opening she’d been looking for, but it was an opening. Wasn’t it? “It’s the Dreamland Social Club,” she said. “Isn’t it?”
He just lit his cigarette, then exhaled and looked at her. He wasn’t going to say anymore.
“What about her journal?” Jane tried. “Do you remember anything about that?”
He waved his cigarette dismissively. “Just that she carried it everywhere and was always scribbling.”
“Do you know where she may have hidden it?”
He shook his head, then reached back and ran a hand down the length of his ponytail. “Didn’t know she hid it nowhere.”
Jane’s gaze fell to the photo again, to his arm around her mother. “So you were, like, girlfriend and boyfriend?”
“For a millisecond,” he said. “As long as it took to get a rise out of our fathers. But your mother always knew she was leaving and I always knew I was staying. She thought she was too good for me anyway.” Something occurred to him then, and he seemed suddenly agitated. “The boys said you wanted to talk about the horse.” He stubbed out his cigarette, only half smoked.
“That, too,” Jane said. “I heard you’re going to sell it to the city if I give it to you?”
“The city can bite me,” Grandpa Claverack muttered.
“He’s got some private buyer in Europe,” Freddy said.
“You tell your father,” Grandpa Claverack said slowly, “that when I can get to that key I’m going to waltz right into his living room and take what’s mine.”
Jane turned to him. “You know where the key is?”
“Of course I know where it is.” He was counting cards in groups of three at the table. “I just can’t get to it is all.”
“Where is it?” Jane asked.
“At the bottom of the damn ocean!” Grandpa Claverack shouted.
“It’s not at the bottom of the ocean, Dad.” Freddy shook his head and turned to Jane. “He’s been saying this for years. He says Preemie said to ‘go fish’ whenever he asked for it.”
Grandpa looked at Jane and squinted. “You said yourself it’s the only place worth hiding anything.”
There must be a shipwreck or a submarine around here somewhere. . . .
“Why did Preemie keep the horse?” she said, hoping to capture some more from this moment of clarity. “Did he ever say why he even wanted it?”
“To spite me!” Grandpa Claverack hissed, but Jane just felt certain there had to be more.
CHAPTER eight
IN HOMEROOM, BABETTE MARCHED OVER and produced a newspaper from her bag. “Loki’s trying to buy a weenie.”
“What?” Jane couldn’t parse the words.
“A weenie. It’s carny talk for a big flashy ride.” Babette pushed the newspaper toward Jane, who picked it up. “They’re going to present an official plan to the city next month, and it’s supposedly going to include a weenie.”
Jane studied the article and confirmed that her father had not been named as the potential designer. “That could be a good thing, right?”
The article said the whole purpose of a weenie was to draw big crowds.
“A weenie, sure.” Babette said. “A Loki weenie, not so much. Because a Loki weenie is going to shut down the Anchor and Wonderland, since that’s the land they own.”
“This spring,” Jane said aloud, because suddenly it all started to feel real and spring didn’t seem so far away. It’d be a miracle if she could keep the Tsunami a secret that long. “But the city has to approve the Loki plan first, right? This winter? And they might not?”
“Finally!” Babette patted her on the back. “She gets it!”
“This is bad,” Jane said. But if the city just didn’t give Loki the go-ahead, she’d be saved. Then the city could buy the Tsunami and everyone would be happy.