Judd Hart showed up at my cottage the next morning with a small snapper whose shell had been
damaged, probably by a lawn mower. “Look, I fixed him up,” Judd said, beaming but a little hesitant.
He had used gauze and first-aid tape, and I wondered aloud if it would do the job. “Oh, I’ve been
studying,” Judd said. “Not that you were doing anything wrong,” he added quickly, “but I read a copy
of National Geographic magazine, and it said the shell has to breathe. We should never use any kind
of epoxy, or heavy tape.” I had used anything I could think of over the years, even duct tape in
emergencies, to hold an injured turtle’s shell together. And here was Judd, at thirteen years old,
showing me something new. I was humbled. He bit his bottom lip, and I realized he was afraid he
might have offended me. Truth be told, I was a little embarrassed, but my instincts told me that Judd’s
need for praise was greater than my need to protect my pride. It couldn’t be easy having Jackie for a
mother, plus a dad who traveled a lot as the business manager for Mr. Toomb. This was a boy who
might have benefited from having a brother, but instead he had two older sisters— identical
twins—who were in their own little world. I’d never actually had a conversation with either of them.
“Judd,” I said, “you’re very wise and I’m sure you will go places in life. I am very impressed, and, on
behalf of turtles everywhere, thank you.” He blushed a shade of red that nearly matched his hair. I
realized if this conversation went on any longer it would be excruciating for him, so I changed the
subject. “So, when does school start?” I asked. His face fell. “Two weeks,” he said sadly. “Um, well,
what grade will you be in?” “Eight,” he said, not sounding any happier.
I racked my brain for a better topic. I was not used to conversing with teenagers. “Oh,” I said,
“your mother mentioned that you joined the Civil Air Patrol.” “Yes!” he said, almost bowling me over
with his enthusiasm. “I’m too young to fly but I can go along as a spotter. I’m going to ke ep doing it
during the school year, though I’ll have to cut back my hours. I had to persuade Mom that it would be
okay, and convince my dad that it was something important I should do.” He was right: It was
important. The Florida coastline was so vast that even the Coast Guard couldn’t patrol every inch. The
Civil Air Patrol filled the gap, with volunteers flying their own small planes to check for boaters in
trouble. But the Naples Civil Air Patrol didn’t just fly over the Gulf. They followed the rivers and
streams into the Everglades. In recent years, the volunteer group had taken on an additional role that
seemed straight out of a James Bond movie exc ept it was real—to ke ep an eye out for suspicious
activity since Collier County was so close to Cuba. Judd told me about the things he had seen. There
was a fishing boat that ran out of fuel and was in danger of sinking because of a problem with its
bilge. And a tourist who fell asle ep on a float and drifted too far from shore to swim back. “I saw
something really strange last week,” he said. “A lot of trees being cut down by the river a ways behind
Mrs. Bailey White’s house but further down.” If I’d had anything in my hands, I’d have dropped it.
“What?! Wait, are you talking about where Darryl is planning his project? Are you saying he’s already
started?” Judd looked panicky. “Well, I don’t know . . . I mean, I don’t know if it’s his, or if
something else is going on. But every day it seems like there’s more trees cut down.” He was sorry he
had brought it up. I could see it in his eyes. “Judd,” I said, trying to be calm, “have you ever seen a
map of the plans? I mean, Darryl’s development plans?” “No, ma’am,” he said. “There ain’t any map
as far as I know. Oh, don’t tell Mom I said ‘ain’t,’ okay? She’d ground me for a week.” “There must
be a map,” I said, thinking aloud. “Judd, I’m going to leave you with the turtles and go see if I can find
someone who will know what’s up.”
Judd nodded. As I turned to leave he added, “There’s a trailer. I saw it from the air. It’s in a
clearing about a mile from the Trail. Maybe that’s where you’ll find your, uh, former husband.”
• • •
I COULDN’T FIND ANYONE DOWNTOWN who would talk to me. I went to the mayor’s
office; I went to the hardware store and the Book Nook. My little town was usually a gossip mill but
not when it came to this subject. Judd had drawn a rough map showing the way to get to the trailer. It
was much too far to walk, and, anyway, I needed reinforcements. I hated to do it but I called Jackie
from the pay tel ephone inside the Rexall. Would she take me over there? Would she ke ep me
company, in case we found Darryl and he got ugly? If there was one thing Jackie loved, it was
intrigue. That, and the possibility of some surefire excitement. “Of course, Dora dear,” she said, “I
believe I owe you an apology. I was thoughtless and selfish about the construction in the, um,
swamps. I was thinking about it and I believe you are right that the creatures, uh, critters, as you say,
have a right to be here, too. Mankind is nothing if not arrogant. And, anyway, if I can help you, I
would like to.” I couldn’t resist. “Even if it means you won’t get new restaurants and stores?” I asked,
needling her. She sighed. “Yes, if it’s the right thing to do. Besides, I’m mad at your former husband. I
don’t like the way he’s handling this.” “That makes two of us,” I said. No disagreement there. “I can’t
go over there right now, though,” Jackie said. “Can you wait an hour?” “Surely can,” I said. “I’ll be at
the post office.” I was reluctant to see my former colleagues because I wasn’t ready to answer
questions about my year away, and they had a way of flustering me. Working there wasn’t so bad, but
as the only woman I’d always felt I was a bit of an intruder. Too bad Marty, my second cousin on
Daddy’s side, had been relocated to the post office in Plant City. I found three of my former
colleagues having a smoke break in back. They had been looking at a girlie magazine and when they
saw me, they
quickly put it away. Of course, this made it even more awkward to speak to them. Maybe because
I’d caught them doing something they shouldn’t—and feared I would tell their supervisor—they were
friendlier than I expected. I learned there was a lot of support in town for Darryl’s project, and, just as
Plain Jane had said, it was all about jobs. One of my former colleagues put it this way: “My son has no
future here. The only hope I have of him coming back to Collier County after he graduates from
Gainesville is that there will be new opportunity here. Otherwise, he’ll move away.” Great, I thought.
What I didn’t say was, Why don’t you move with him, to some place that’s already paved over? But
since I was trying to get information from these fellas, I couldn’t afford to alienate them. They were
trying to be honest with me. The smartest thing I could do was listen. So far they’d been pretty
forthcoming. But when I asked if Darryl had permission from the mayor and the council, they either
didn’t know or didn’t want to give me a straight answer. “There have been some legal formalities,”
one of them said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m pretty sure, from what I hear, that he’s already
started work.” A car horn blasted out front. “That’s my ride,” I said. “Thank you, but I’ve got to run.”
I wanted to hurry so that Jackie wouldn’t honk the horn again. The youngest of the three men followed
me. He’d been in the Navy, and I always thought he might be sweet on me. “Dora?” he called out.
“What?” “I don’t think things have been done properly,” he said. “By Darryl, I mean. I went to one of
the town meetings and it seemed like it was a done deal. Important enough to be rushed through.
Please be careful, Dora.” His comment almost took the wind out of my sails. I climbed into the
passenger seat, grateful that the convertible top was up, on account of it looking like rain. I didn’t feel
like seeing anyone—or being seen—at the moment. But Jackie was on a tear. “I just learned the most
amazing thing,” she said breathlessly. “Ted is on the road—up in the Panhandle or whatever it’s
called—and he phoned me because he won’t be home tomorrow, even though he said he would.
Anyway, it seemed like it just kind of slipped out
—like he wasn’t going to tell me—but when he’s on the road he gets tired and I think he let his
guard down—” “What?” I said. “He said that Mr. Toomb is going to . . . well, I don’t know how to say
this, it sounds so ridiculous.” “Jackie! You’re killing me!” “Mr. Toomb is starting an airline.” She hit
the accelerator. I thought I must have misheard. “An airline?” “A regional airline. You know, Naples
to Miami. Naples to Tampa. Jacksonville to Tampa. But the major ones in place by the end of this
year.” First the real estate development, now an airline? What next? I said a quick prayer that the
ultimate goal was not like the plans rumored for Orlando, where someone widely suspected to be Walt
Disney was said to be buying up huge tracts of land. Walt Disney himself was thought to be waiting
for the right time to make a big announcement about his “Florida Project.” I finally found my voice.
“Jackie,” I croaked out the words, “do you think this has anything to do with that project planned by
Walt Disney?” “Sure,” Jackie said. “I think old Mr. Toomb is positioning himself to ride on Walt
Disney’s coattails.” “What about Darryl?” “Oh, I think Darryl is an opportunist just like Mr. Toomb. I
asked Ted if he knew anything and he says Darryl’s money is coming from New Jersey. Some suburb
in New Jersey—I think it’s called Basking-something. Basking Ridge, I think. Anyway, Darryl’s
investors may be trying to capitalize on Disney too, same as Mr. Toomb is.” “But we’re so far south of
Orlando,” I said. “Heck, that’s almost two hundred miles north of here!” “Doesn’t matter,” Jackie
r eplied. “That’s the way investors think. Florida is ‘hot’ right now. Everything’s on the table. That’s
what Ted says.” I could see it all now. Naples would be connected to the outside world in a way it had
never been. “Won’t they have to improve our airport?” I said, thinking that would take some time. All
we had now was a little cement runway good enough for the Civil Air Patrol to take off and land. Just
a few private planes, that’s all. A commercial airline would change everything.
“Oh, they’re already doing that,” Jackie said. “Judd said something to me about it the other day,
but I wasn’t really paying attention.” This was bigger than I had even imagined, and beyond anything
I could prevent. I might as well try to part the Red Sea. What was the point in confronting Darryl? But
a funny thing had happened to Jackie. Now that I was tuckered out, she was full of that unstoppable
Jackie energy. “Well, we can’t stop Walt Disney, and there’s not much we can do about Mr. Toomb,”
she said. “But I don’t think we should raise the white flag to Darryl—not without a fight, anyway.”