Take Charge (16 page)

“Hey, what about a car wash?” said Morgan with enthusiasm. “We did that once for our youth group at church. And we earned about a thousand dollars in one day.”

“In one day?” said Chelsea. “That’s amazing.”

“That’s it!” said Amy. “We’ll pick a Saturday as our big fund-raising day. We can have a car wash and we’ll
sell beadwork and baked goods and whatever …” She studied the brightly colored calendar that Morgan had brought back from the gift show last summer. “How about September 30? That gives us a week and a half to get it all together. Do you think we can do that?”

Everyone thought that sounded doable. And so it was settled. Emily wrote down all their ideas in the notebook, and everyone was assigned a specific task that they would report back on by Friday. Amy would call the mayor and supervise the bake sale preparations. Morgan would talk to her youth pastor to see about setting up a car wash in town. Emily would contact Gary at the newspaper. And Carlie would arrange for her dad to help them get plants.

“What about me?” asked Chelsea as they were finishing. “I don’t have a job to do.”

They all looked at her, but no one seemed to have an answer.

“Flyers!”
said Amy suddenly. “We’ll need to advertise what we’re doing in the community. And you have that great computer and printer, Chelsea. Can you be in charge of publicity?”

Chelsea grinned. “No problem.”

“Okay, you’ll have to coordinate with the rest of us, you know, for where and what time the car wash will be and that sort of thing.”

“And how about donation boxes?” said Chelsea. “You know, the kind that you put in stores and shops asking
people to chip in their spare change to help out?”

“Great idea!” said Amy.

“Yeah,” Carlie said with a chuckle. “You could put a box in your dad’s bank. There’s lots of money in there.”

Chelsea laughed. “It’s not really my dad’s bank, you know.”

“This looks like it’s really coming together,” said Morgan. “We make a good team.”

“Speaking of teams, I guess it was a good thing Amy didn’t try out for soccer today,” said Carlie. “Otherwise, she never would’ve met the Dragon Lady, and none of this would even be happening.”

Amy nodded. “But how did it go at the tryouts this afternoon? Did you guys all make the team?”

Emily laughed. “Yeah,
everyone
who tried out made the team. No one was cut. You would’ve made it too, Amy.”

Amy shrugged. “Well, the truth is I’m not really that into soccer. But I’ll come and watch you guys at your games.” She laughed. “I’ll be your cheerleader.”

“You’ll also have more time to work on this project now,” said Morgan. “In fact, I nominate Amy to be chairperson of the Save Our Park campaign.”

“Save Our Park,” echoed Emily. “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Because it is
our
park,” said Amy. “Oh, sure, the Dragon Lady might actually own it, but she doesn’t really
care about it. We’re the ones who care about it. I think that makes it as much ours as hers.”

“Well, hopefully we will be able to save it,” said Chelsea.

They all voted in favor of Amy being the chairperson for their project, and then the meeting broke up. Feeling happy at her new appointment, Amy went straight home and called the mayor. She caught him just as he was about to leave his office, and he sounded like he was in a hurry. She quickly told him about meeting with Miss McPhearson and how she’d given permission to work on the park.

“She actually
spoke
to you?” His voice sounded skeptical.

“She did. And I even had a witness with me,” said Amy in her most adult-sounding voice. “Mrs. Watson. She’s an old friend of Miss McPhearson. Her name used to me Martha O’Hara, and she grew up in Boscoe Bay.”

“Martha O’Hara?” he repeated. “I believe she married Harry Watson. Yes, I do remember her.”

“So our plan is to begin working on the park this weekend,” Amy informed him. “We just wanted you to know.”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s a pretty big job for kids.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But we’re hard workers. And we’ll be having some fund-raising events too. Look for us in the newspaper on Saturday.”

“Yes, I noticed a couple of letters in there today. I guess you kids might be a force to be reckoned with after all.”

Amy considered this. “Does that mean we’re not on the same side?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m the mayor, you know. I represent everyone in the city.”

“I just hope you’re representing us too,” she said. “We might be kids, but we’re part of the city too.”

He laughed. “Of course you are.”

But as Amy hung up the phone, she wasn’t entirely convinced. And when her parents came home later that night, she knew there was reason to be worried. They made it very clear that they were opposed to her involvement in saving the city park. They also told her the restaurant needed that space for parking and she should stay out of it.

“I can’t stay out of it,” she told them. “I am the chairperson of the Save Our Park project.”

They looked at her with surprised disbelief.

“You are so full of yourself,” said her mother in Vietnamese. “Such a spoiled child, so self-serving and important. I think you are delusional.”

“Are you really a chairperson?” asked her father in a slightly softer tone.

“It’s true,” said Amy defensively, still speaking in English. “I was elected as the chairperson just today. And I’ve already spoken to the owner of the park as well as the mayor, and there will be something in the newspaper about our group on Saturday. We plan to do all we can to preserve McPhearson Park.”

Her father actually chuckled now. “I did not know we raised a little revolutionary.”

But her mother frowned and said, “A disrespectful daughter brings a curse upon her mother.”

Amy considered this. Part of her wanted to argue with her mother, but part of her felt hurt too. “Why is trying to save a park so that children can play considered disrespectful?” asked Amy, also in Vietnamese, just in case her mother wanted to pretend not to understand her English. She often did that to her children when she didn’t want to participate in their conversation.

Her mother just looked at her, disapproval written all over her face. Naturally, Amy wasn’t too surprised when her mother didn’t answer. Instead she just turned and went into the kitchen. Amy watched her slightly hunched back as she walked. She looked more tired than usual, and Amy knew that she worked hard at the restaurant every day, probably harder than she needed to. But then her mother had difficulty leaving things to others. She seemed to think the world would fall apart if everything wasn’t done her way.

Amy held up her hands and sighed. The truth was she didn’t want to be disrespectful to her mother, and she really didn’t want to bring a curse onto her. But why couldn’t her mother see that Amy and her friends were only trying to make their town into a better place? A better place for everyone. Why did this have to be so hard?

Her father patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, little Amy. You know your mother is a stubborn one.” Then he
winked at her. “And … you, my child, are your mother’s daughter.”

Amy frowned at him.
Now what was that supposed to mean?
As she went to her room to do homework, she realized she would need to get back on her mom’s good side if she wanted to use their kitchen to make cookies for the fund-raiser. At least she had a few days to figure that one out. For now she wanted to do her homework, and to do it as perfectly as possible. It was important for Amy to keep her grades up. Her goal was to graduate from high school with a perfect straight-A average from kindergarten on up. Okay, maybe some people thought that was obsessive, but it was just her way. She liked things to go perfectly.

But as she worked on her algebra she was distracted by thoughts about Viola McPhearson, or rather the Dragon Lady. She wondered why someone who had been born into such a wealthy and influential family, someone who seemed to have everything money could buy — a home worth millions, a beautiful view of the ocean — was so deeply unhappy?

She set down her pencil and wondered if Miss McPhearson might have some deep, dark secret hidden somewhere in that big, old spooky house. Had she murdered someone? Were there dead bodies buried in her basement? Maybe she really was crazy. Or perhaps her parents had been cruel and overbearing to her. Not unlike
the way Amy’s mother could be at times. Or maybe they beat her and locked in her room. That would certainly make a person mean and angry. But then she remembered what Mrs. Watson had said about the lovely parties that had been held there. That didn’t seem to add up. Maybe Viola McPhearson had simply been spoiled.

Amy replayed her own mother’s words from today. And how many other times had she been told that she was spoiled and selfish and self-centered? Of course, Amy always flatly denied it. But maybe she was just a little spoiled — at least in some ways. After all, she was the youngest and consequently hadn’t been forced to work in the restaurant as much as her older siblings had. But Amy did her part. Didn’t she? Sure, maybe she complained at times, but didn’t they all?

Even so, Amy thought as a chilly shiver ran down her back, she didn’t want to be a spoiled brat. And she sure didn’t want to grow up to be as unhappy and mean as the Dragon Lady!

The girls met in the clubhouse on Friday after school. Everyone reported on how their assignments were coming, and things seemed to be falling into place.

“Gary Hardwick from the newspaper called me last night,” said Amy. “He told me that Emily had phoned and filled him in on most of the details. But he asked me a few questions on the history of the park and my conversation with Miss McPhearson.”

“You mean the Dragon Lady,” interjected Chelsea.

Amy giggled. “I couldn’t very well call her the Dragon Lady to the newspaperman. That wouldn’t have sounded very professional. Anyway, he said that he hadn’t been able to reach her for an interview.”

“He was probably jealous,” said Emily.

“I’ve got the flyers planned out,” said Chelsea. “I brought a sample to show you what I have so far. I’ll add the time and place when we know them for sure.”

“The car wash will be at McDonald’s,” said Morgan. “Our youth pastor knows the guy who owns the franchise, and he said it’ll be okay.”

“Cool,” said Chelsea as she wrote this down. “That’s a great location.”

“I thought we could sell the baked goods and things by the park,” said Amy. “That way people will see what bad shape it’s in … and maybe they will want to help out.”

“Good idea,” said Carlie.

“We could put signs at the car wash to tell people to go up there,” said Chelsea.

“And signs at the park,” said Emily, “to tell people to go to the car wash.”

“Yeah!” said Morgan, giving high fives all around. “Are we good at this or what?”

“Gary from the paper said to make sure we get the information about our fund-raising events dropped off by Monday morning if we want to get them into the What’s Happening column in Tuesday’s paper,” said Emily.

“Can you cover that?” asked Amy.

“Got it.”

And on they went, asking questions and reporting progress just like one of the Fortune 500 corporations that her father often read about in his business magazines. Amy thought maybe someday she could head a big company like that herself. It could be fun. Wouldn’t her parents be proud of her then? Maybe her mother would take back all that nonsense about being spoiled.

“Be prepared to get your hands dirty tomorrow,” Carlie said as they were locking up the clubhouse. “My
dad offered to give us a lift down to the park. That way we can take all the tools and the wheelbarrow and stuff.”

“What we really need is a big old tractor,” said Chelsea.

“No …” said Amy as she considered this. “Think about it. If the five of us girls are out there working and digging and trying to put things back into place, how will other people feel when they walk by and see us?”

“Guilty?” offered Emily.

“Exactly!” Amy grinned.

“So maybe they’ll want to help too?” suggested Carlie.

“Or donate money?” said Chelsea. “Or just be supportive of the park in general,” finished Amy.

“Good plan,” said Morgan. “I hope it works.”

They met at Carlie’s house the next morning at eight. As much as Amy didn’t enjoy doing yard work or getting her fingernails dirty, she was ready for this challenge. She had on her old blue jeans, a sweatshirt, her dad’s Raiders hat, and even a pair of her mom’s gardening gloves.

The other girls looked like they were ready for work too. “Let’s go,” said Carlie’s dad with a wide grin. “You girls have got work to do.”

“Did you guys see the newspaper this morning?” asked Morgan as the pickup took off.

“Was Gary’s article in it?” asked Carlie.

“More than just that,” said Morgan.

“Our letters?” asked Amy.

“More than that … ”

“What?” asked Amy, growing impatient.

“There were letters from some of the downtown businesses who are against saving the park.” Morgan paused.

“A lot of letters?” asked Amy.

“Six.”

“Whoa.”

“And there was this big article written by Rich Howard from Howard Hardware saying how much this town needs a parking lot.”

“Oh …” Amy frowned. “But what about our article, the one Gary Hardwick wrote?”

“It was there, but on page five.”

“Where was the other article?”

“The front page.”

“Oh …”

“My mom said it’s because Rich Howard is best buddies with Leon Simpson, the owner of
Boscoe Bay News
,” continued Morgan. “She said it was probably a boys’ club kinda thing.”

Mr. Garcia chuckled from behind the steering wheel. “You ladies may have a little battle on your hands.”

“The boys’ club against the girls’ club?” said Amy.

The girls laughed.

Mr. Garcia pulled up to the park, which still had yellow tape around it. “Well, I’ll put my money on the girls’
club any day.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Carlie.

He helped them unload their tools. “I wish I could stick around and help,” he told them. “But we’re taking the boat out this afternoon … plan to fish all night.”