Dreamland Social Club(81)
“Ah,” Leo said. “Another hot nondate.”
“You know it’s not like that”—she looked at him meaningfully, tried to communicate it all through her eyes—“at all. He’s writing a story for The Siren.”
“Right.”
“Wait,” she said. “You want to go to the presentation?”
He nodded.
“To protest?”
“Not my style.” He’d just taken darts from the board on the wall and handed three of them to her. “Information is power, right? I’m just following your lead.” He indicated a line on the floor and nodded at the board.
“No funny business?” She threw a dart and missed the red-and-green board entirely. Her dart hit the wall and fell with a thump to the floor.
Leo held up two fingers with a dart in his hand. “Scout’s honor.” He threw and hit the bull’s-eye, then flashed a smile at Jane.
And flirt. Oh, the woman flirted like a pro.
She said, “You don’t strike me as the Boy Scout type.”
He froze and looked at her then, and smiled this sort of debonair smile, and she thought maybe this was it—finally!—the moment in which he’d kiss her, but then a scurrying sound—undeniable scurrying—behind the bar made them both freeze, and then Leo grabbed her hand, headed for the back door, and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Wait.” She ran to the bar and grabbed an Anchor postcard before running with him, out into the night.
CHAPTER eight
A SMALL GROUP OF PROTESTERS marched around the Aquarium parking lot the next night. They held oak-tag signs with marker scrawl that read “Save Coney,” “Down with Loki,” and “The Future of Coney Island is OURS.” There were maybe thirty of them, chanting in a call-and-response—“What do we want?” “Loki gone!” “When do we want it?” “NOW!”—and for no reason she could explain they made Jane sad. Maybe because thirty people didn’t seem like a lot. Not enough to save Coney. And what did that even mean anyway? She was less sure than ever.
She kept her head down and followed her father and brother inside and then out again to a tent that had been put up out where the Aquarium faced the boardwalk. It was full of round tables, all covered with white linens and set with white china and too many forks and spoons and glasses. The silver hot trays on the buffet table along one wall still wore their lids, but the tent held a not unpleasant mix of smells. Jane’s father stopped to chat and slap backs and shake hands on their way to their table—and introduced Jane and her brother to a few people—but once they found their seats their dad left them to their own devices.
After those silver lids were lifted away by white-gloved, tuxedoed waiters, they filled up plates with Swedish meatballs and lasagna and three kinds of chicken and more. Back at their table Jane and Marcus revived an old game they used to play when dragged to their father’s work functions. They acted like they were involved in a very deep conversation, but they were really saying nonsensical things like “Pudding has a bad reputation” and “It’s funny you say that, because I’ve always found it to be the case that letters, when put together, make words.”
Marcus said, “The truth of the matter is that ice is quite cold,” and Jane said, “It’s also frequently the case that fire is hot.” Then Legs slid into the seat next to her and the game ended.
Jane looked around the room and saw Leo, wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a skinny tie—looking much older than he really was; sophisticated, even. He looked over at her and straightened his lapels with raised eyebrows. She gave a thumbs-up for the suit across the room and he tilted his chin at her—she was wearing a gray sleeveless dress—and gave a thumbs-up back.
Lights dimmed and silverware clattered and coughs rose and voices quieted, then everyone took seats. A large screen at one end of the room projected the Loki Equities logo and then: THE FUTURE OF CONEY ISLAND HAS ARRIVED.
Jane had been prepared to hate everything about the Loki presentation. Every idea. Every graphic. Every ride.
But she didn’t.
As image upon image appeared on that screen, she saw a vision of a place where she might like to spend some time. A place that had a circus tent, water parks, playgrounds, nice restaurants, and more. She saw some grandeur in the new amusement park design, which obviously drew inspiration from the spirals and minarets and crescent moons of the past, and the Tsunami looked amazing in full-color renderings.
For the first time in a long time, when she imagined what it would feel like to ride it, she touched up against a feeling that had more in common with excitement than dread. The feeling of a surfer riding the wave of a lifetime. She got choked up just thinking about how proud she was of her father.
If it hadn’t been for the shopping mall built out onto a pier and the complete absence of the Anchor and Wonderland, she might have fallen for the proposal hook, line, and sinker. It was certainly closer to the old Coney she loved than what was here now.
Leo would probably never understand the way she felt about it all now that she’d really seen the whole scale of the Loki plan, and she’d probably never tell him. Even if Jane saw only gray, the world was black and white and this entire situation was out of her hands. When the lights came up, Leo wasn’t in his seat. It wouldn’t surprise Jane at all if he’d bailed, if he’d joined the protesters outside.