Death of a Cupcake Queen (6 page)

It is peak tourist season and that can only mean one thing. The police scanner on top of my refrigerator is buzzing a lot more with news of out-of-towner drama. In the last hour alone, there was one fender bender at the head of the island, one lost child on a mountain trail, a carry out off Dorr Mountain (which is usually someone who left the trail, slipped, and broke a leg or arm), a domestic disturbance at one of the hotels (too much vacation celebration with alcohol), and, last but not least, a car about to be submerged underwater at Bar Island.

This last one happens all the time in the summer because Bar Island is a big attraction for the tourists that visit Bar Harbor. One can access the island from West Street at the waterfront. A short road takes you right to the little rocky beach that overlooks the ocean. To your right is the town pier and the vast ocean, and to your left are the lovely old waterfront mansions and more ocean. But when low tide comes, water recedes and almost like magic a natural gravel land bridge opens up (the locals call it the bar) and you can walk or even drive your car over to the island to have a picnic, hike, or just explore. It's a fun way to spend some time on an island for a few hours.

Unfortunately, some people do not realize that you only have a certain amount of time between low and high tide, and for those who have not checked their tide charts, or have failed to do a little research on the subject, they will arrive to explore it and see the path across wide open, not realizing the tide is coming in and they will pretty soon find themselves in a very sticky situation.

God knows I've seen this happen with tourists time and time again.

Last summer after indulging with a couple of delicious Cape Codder cocktails, I decided to take Leroy for a short walk. We headed to Bar Island so Leroy could chase seagulls and sniff shells. The tide wouldn't be fully high for a couple of hours.

During the summer there were always a few locals like me there with their dogs or kids running around taking advantage of a beautiful post-dinner evening. It was fun to gossip and catch up with people you didn't have the chance to see all the time. When the tide came in and started to cover the path between the mainland and the island, we called the dogs and kids back to head home, since it would begin a fast rise now.

That's when we noticed that no one had yet come for the car that was parked almost right in the middle of the bar. This happens more often than not with the many tourists who visit here, but we noticed that this particular car had a Maine license plate, which was surprising since we locals pride ourselves on our expert knowledge about tides.

“Could be a rental,” I snorted. “Can't be a local.”

It was a newer looking Mazda-type car. The sunroof was wide open and the water was just now beginning to creep up the sides of the tires.

No one was really worried yet because this unfortunately was a pretty normal occurrence. As the minutes passed and the tide rose higher and higher, now almost completely above the car's tires, I decided it might be a good idea to give Chief Alvarez of the Bar Harbor Police Department a heads up with a quick phone call in case the owner did not return so he could at least send a tow truck for the car as the water was now up above the sides of the doors.

I punched the number into my cell phone and asked for the chief and was told by the night dispatcher Debbie that he was on another line, but since she knew the chief and I were family by marriage, she informed me he was talking to a worried local mother who was upset because her newly licensed teenage son had not yet returned home after borrowing her brand new Mazda over four hours ago.

I gasped and told her to interrupt the chief because I believed that there might be a possibility that this was the same car out on the bar and they had better hurry because the car was going to be completely underwater soon.

As I hung up and glanced at the rising tide that was now up to the car's windows, I relayed the information I learned to the growing crowd on the beach.

Just then a truck came roaring down the street and screeched to a stop as a woman jumped out of the passenger side and came running toward us screaming that the car was hers and where was her son?

I immediately recognized her. Sarah Cumberland (I've changed her name to protect the not-so-innocent) . We were on the same sports boosters committee and our kids went to high school together. She was always trying to outdo me when it was our turn to provide snacks for the school sporting events. She would show up with her “famous” (or so she said) Cranberry Cream Cheese Bars and make a big fuss about placing them front and center on the table. That was usually followed by a snide remark about the brownies or cookies I had brought. But at least I followed the food list that had been emailed to me instead of “going rogue” like she always did.

We could now hear the police and fire trucks' sirens getting closer.

This was turning into quite the drama so (and I must say with a little delight) I called my boss at the paper so he could get a photographer there and take a few pictures for tomorrow's edition with his telephoto lens. There was no sense in wasting a good photo opportunity.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait, hoping the woman's son would be spotted on the beach waving for help.

Just then, two police cars and a fire truck arrived but still no tow truck because we were told they were busy dealing with a fender bender in Town Hill and by the time the one from Southwest Harbor could get there it would be too late to save the car, which by now was almost totally submerged.

I couldn't resist commenting to a few of my fellow gawkers that this woman needed to keep a better eye on her kid especially nowadays when every teenager has a cell phone. It's so easy to check in to prevent something like this from happening. I know it's petty, but I took a perverse joy in the woman's predicament, mostly because she was always showing me up in front of the other parents.

Just then, two small figures emerged from the woods and ran to the water's edge screaming and waving their arms and jumping up and down yelling for help.

Chief Alvarez grabbed a bull horn from his police cruiser and told the frightened teens that a boat was on the way and if they could hear him to stop jumping and just wave. They followed his instructions.

We all sighed with relief when just a few minutes later we saw a park ranger boat come into view. They loaded up the huddled teens and ferried them back to the mainland.

Sarah looked so relieved to see her son safe and sound even as she yelled at him from across the bay that he wouldn't be driving a car for a long time! It reminded me to check in on my own daughter. I called her cell and when she answered she seemed distracted. She started to explain but then the crowd erupted in cheers as the park ranger delivered the teens safely to shore, drowning out her voice. As the rangers helped the teenage boy out of the boat, right behind him I spotted a teenage girl, holding a cell phone to her ear. I did a double take! It was my daughter being escorted off the boat by a helpful park ranger. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a few people nodding and nudging each other while pointing at me. I knew I deserved it. I tightened my grip on Leroy's leash and marched over to the boat and my embarrassed daughter.

Lesson learned.

There was going to be another teen who wouldn't be driving for a long time!

 

 

 

3 ounces cranberry juice
2 ounces vodka
lime wedge to garnish

 

Fill a glass with ice and the first two ingredients and garnish with a lime wedge.

This is a delicious cocktail that every New Englander indulges in at one time or another!