It took four of them, plus me. It wasn’t that the fountain was too heavy. In fact, it was light enough for me to lift on my own. The thing had been carved out of polystyrene foam, coated in plastic, and then spray-painted a bronze color to make it look much heavier than it was.
No, it was just a big awkward thing, at least eight feet long, four feet wide, and seven feet tall, with odd angles everywhere and all those naked boys and dolphins and angels sticking out all over it. Fitting it back there took some clever maneuvering, but we managed it.
“There you go,” John said, slapping my tailgate. “All set.”
“You’ve got to lend me a tarp,” I said. “I can’t be driving around town with this thing exposed to the world.”
He frowned. “What do you mean? Are you implying that it’s ugly?”
“I’m saying it’s hideous,” I said, laughing. “I’ve got stops to make between here and home. I don’t want to scare any small children.”
“All right,” he said. “But I think you’re going to need more than one tarp.”
*
On the way back to town I stopped at another construction site to talk to Wade about getting some of the guys started on rehabbing Jesse’s place. I would’ve stayed to chat longer, but I had a strong urge to get home with Mrs. Higgins’s fountain before anyone I knew saw it and gave me a hard time.
I had to make one more stop at the supermarket to pick up a few essentials I needed. I ran inside and was out in seven minutes, but it was too late.
Whitney had just stepped out of her Jaguar and was headed straight toward me. She wore stiletto heels and skinny jeans with a strategically torn T-shirt that was tie-dyed and glitterized. It was what all the housewives in Lighthouse Cove wore when they had to dash off to the market to pick up dinner.
“Hello, Whitney,” I said breezily as I unlocked the truck and tossed my small grocery bag onto the front seat.
“Always a pleasure,” she lied, flipping in dismissal her keratin-treated straight black hair. As she passed the back of my truck, a bungee cord snapped and one side of the tarp began to flap in the wind, smacking her in the face.
She screamed and ducked, waving her hands over her head as if she were being attacked by bats.
“Jeez, freak out much?” I grabbed the bungee cord and the edge of the tarp and was about to reattach it when she gasped.
“Holy Versace,” she cried, as one shaky finger pointed at the item under the tarp. “What is that horrible thing?”
Even though I agreed with her description, I felt indignant on Mrs. Higgins’s behalf. “It’s a one-of-a-kind fountain. A very wealthy client just ordered it. What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?” I raised the tarp a little higher to give her a better look.
She recoiled in horror. “That is the most hideous, gauche piece of garbage I’ve ever seen. It figures a client of yours would think it was fabulous.”
“Sticks and stones . . .” Although I couldn’t disagree about the hideous-gauche part of her statement. I tried not to snicker as she made a face and stomped off.
“Always great to see you,” I called after her, then chuckled as I jumped into the truck and drove off.
*
The next morning, I got one of my guys to help me haul the fountain into Mrs. Higgins’s backyard and install it. I had already removed last year’s rejected fountain and easily attached the hoses and pump to this new one.
Mrs. Higgins watched from the edge of her small patio, twenty feet away.
“We’re going to turn the water on now, Mrs. Higgins,” I said. “I’m not sure if all the water will wind up in the fountain itself or spray the yard, so I think you should stay back where you are.”
“I’m ready, I’m ready,” she said, clapping her hands. “Hurry. Turn the water on.”
“Coming up.” I twisted the handle and the fountain spurted and coughed to life. Water began to trickle from the mouths of the dolphins and the birds, and after a minute they were spitting water everywhere. The naked boys began to pee.
The water tumbled down and collected in a small pool at the base of the fountain and then recycled through the pipes. It was actually a clever design if you ignored its outer shell.
“Oh, it’s stunning,” Mrs. Higgins whispered, clasping her hands to her bosom. “I’ve never seen anything like it before in my entire life.” She walked closer, grabbed my hand, and clutched it tightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I’m just thrilled.”
“I’m glad, Mrs. Higgins. I hope you’ll enjoy it for many years.”
“Oh. Oh.” She looked around the yard, mystified. “Is that music?”
“I think it’s coming from your fountain.” It had started as soon as the water reached the three angels that stood at the highest point of the fountain. When they began spitting, the sound started. There had to be some sort of mechanism inside their mouths that created the high-pitched heavenly choirlike humming noise whenever the fountain was running. Unbelievable.
It was all too much for Mrs. Higgins, who collapsed in ecstasy into a patio chair.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She gulped. “I am sublime and on time.”
Where did she get those lines?