“Sorry,” he says. “It just bothers me that Bonnie disappeared and died, then my sister disappeared kind of like, similarly.”
“Yes, and we do know that Bonnie Stratmeyer was seen at the Sandpiper during the time she was missing.”
Matt wonders if she might have paired off with Austin Overton. Knows that Darnell won’t tell him if she knows. Makes a note to see if Overton played at the Sandpiper during Bonnie Stratmeyer’s missing days.
“How about at Cavore’s parties in Sapphire Cove?” asks Matt.
Officer Darnell smiles and shakes her head. “Jordan Cavore’s Sapphire Cove parties? Matt, you get around.”
“I just listen.”
“Don’t try to go to those Sapphire Cove parties,” she says.
“Why?” asks Julie. “I haven’t heard of them.”
Officer Darnell taps her pen on the pad. “Rich out-of-towners doing bad things. Private parties, not big happenings like the hippies do. They charge money just to get in. Has Jasmine talked about them, Matt?”
“No, never,” he says, neglecting to mention what Dana said.
“Does she talk to you about personal things?”
At times, his sister seems to be a warren of secrets and evasions. Others, eager to confess. “Not usually.”
Officer Darnell takes down the names of Jasmine’s friends and what numbers Julie has in the little address book in her bag.
When Darnell asks about boyfriends, Julie says that her daughter has had some male friends but never a steady boyfriend. She looks at Matt, who nods.
“What about her general outlook? Is she happy, angry, withdrawn, outgoing?”
“All of those things at different times,” says Julie. “Mostly... steady. Jasmine is self-directed and in control of her emotions. Though she can be temperamental.”
“Does she have a religious or spiritual side?” asks the officer.
“Not church,” says Julie. “But she’s always searching for meaning. She read some of the Bible, and some of Siddhartha, and some books about Hinduism. I think The Tibetan Book of the Dead is in her room right now.”
“She got it at Mystic Arts World,” says Matt.
“Interesting,” says Officer Darnell. “Does she go there often?”
“We took a meditation class together there,” says Julie. “In the private meditation room. From one of Mahajad Om’s swamis-in-training. I think they’re called Enlighteners.”
“Have you been to Mahajad’s Vortex of Purity?” asks Darnell.
“Too expensive,” Julie says. “Even if you’re accepted to study there with Mahajad.”
Darnell examines the sketch and photo of Jasmine. “Let me have these for posters and press releases,” she says. “And don’t worry, Mrs. Anthony, Matt. She’ll come home or we’ll find her.”
Like you found Bonnie Stratmeyer? Matt wonders.
He can tell by his mother’s and Officer Darnell’s expressions that they’re wondering too.
9
Matt sits in the eucalyptus tree behind the Irvine Bowl amphitheater, settled into a V in the big branches, looking out through the fragrant leaves at the Pageant of the Masters unfolding below.
He’s done this before. Tonight he’s got on his Mexican poncho against the June chill, and the half bag of peanuts he discovered in the threadbare pantry, snug under his T-shirt. The rope is looped beside him. It wasn’t easy climbing the tree because eucalyptus branches start well up the trunk, but with a lucky hurl he was finally able to get the loop over and down, run the tag end through, haul it tight, and pull-run himself up the into the foliage. Then bring up the rope so as to not give himself away. It helps that he’s skinny and light. The woods behind the amphitheater are high and dense and give him cover against pageant security.
Now he watches the dark stage and listens to the next painting’s dramatic introduction. As everyone in Laguna is proud to point out, the voice is that of Sugar Frosted Flakes pitchman Thurl Ravenscroft, who for years — as Tony the Tiger — has been booming out “They’re GRRREAT!” from every TV in the land.
But tonight, Ravenscroft’s voice is beguiling, Matt thinks, almost godlike.
“The French painter Paul Gauguin first traveled to Tahiti in 1891, hoping to find an Edenic paradise where he could create pure, primitive art rather than the primitivist faux works being done by painters in France... In When Will You Marry? Gauguin creates one of his iconic island paintings, capturing a touching and mysterious moment between two women — one of whom wears a white flower behind her ear, indicating she desires a husband... Ladies and gentlemen, behold this masterwork of color and composition, When Will You Marry? by Paul Gauguin.”
When the lights bring the tableau vivant alive, Laurel and Rose Kalina repose in a field of vibrant green, yellow, and blue. Laurel is in the foreground in bold Tahitian native dress — red and yellow pants and a simple white blouse. From behind her, Rose looks over her shoulder. She’s wearing a salmon-colored Western-style dress with a prim white collar. Both have the blended mocha skin of their Hawaiian-Caucasian parents, lustrous black hair, and soulful almond eyes.
Laurel wears a hopeful expression and she seems focused on some distant object, or maybe on her own thoughts. Rose’s gaze is focused in another direction altogether and she looks wary and displeased. Is she reading Laurel’s mind? Does she not want her sister to marry? Behind them are two distant figures and lush Tahitian hills.
The sisters are both absolutely still and Matt wonders how they’re drawing breath without seeming to move. The vibrant, strongly lighted colors shiver in the surrounding darkness of the amphitheater, right up into his eyes. Matt knows that Christian and the other serious artists in town think the pageant is pure kitsch, call it the Pageant of the Monsters. Same way they call the Festival of Arts the Festering of Arts. But Matt still likes the way a two-dimensional painting can be elaborately staged with living, three-dimensional bodies — only to appear as the flat painting that inspired the tableaux in the first place! It’s art in reverse, a magic trick.
But what gets to Matt the most, what gets him leaning forward, hands on two big eucalyptus branches for balance, is how totally choice Laurel is, how boss, bitchen, and beautiful. He could watch her forever. Maybe she’d let him paint her someday. I’ll have to get good before that happens, he thinks. Without taking his eyes off her, Matt works the bag of peanuts from under his shirt, snaps the boner in his pants hard with his middle finger, and cracks open a shell.
After the show he waits with his bike outside the Festival of Arts grounds, watching the tourists and pageant cast members file out. Tries to think of what to say. The tourists are decked out, especially the girls and women, and he can smell their scents on the damp beach air.
Then there she is, coming out the exit with her sister in their street clothes, looking little like Gauguin’s women.
Matt walks his bike through the oncoming bodies and swings it around to join them.
“That was unbelievably cool,” he says.
“More like cold tonight!” says Laurel.
“I love Gauguin and you two were perfect. I couldn’t even see you breathe!”
“We are professionals,” says Rose, giving Matt a look. “Hey, there’s Cathy and Melanie. I’m splitting. Night, kiddos!”
Rose departs up the sidewalk toward her friends, turns and waves. Leaving Matt alone with Laurel, which sends a nervous tickle down his back.
“Can I walk with you?” he asks.
“Okay. What’s that rope in the basket for?”