Page 97 of Instant Karma

But I know he’s thinking it, too.

What if this is a gigantic flop? What if no one comes?

And then, at fifteen minutes past the hour… they come. At first, just a sprinkling of curious beachgoers. But then they keep coming. People I know, but also a lot that I don’t.

Sure, the crowd is nothing compared with yesterday’s festival, but it keeps growing. And, best of all, people actually seem kind of excited to be here helping out.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

People are here. They’re learning about the center and its patients. They’rehelping.

With any luck, they’ll be donating some cash, too.

Quint and I try to greet everyone, telling them about the center while we hand out bags and latex gloves. People begin to spread out across the shore, scouring the beach for garbage and debris left over from yesterday’s festival. I’m pleased to see a lot of families there with children, who seem just as enthusiastic to pick up garbage as they are to collect shells and rocks.

We’ve set out a large donation jar on the table at the front of the tent, andas the minutes go by, I find myself constantly checking on it. I notice with glee that it’s started to gather an assortment of green bills and change. I wish I could estimate how much money is inside, but it’s impossible to tell. Are those singles or twenties? I’ll have to wait in suspense to find out when we count it up after the event.

“All set for the big release celebration?” I ask Quint as I open another box of gloves.

“The patients are getting prepped back at the center as we speak,” says Quint. “They’re going to bring them down in an hour.”

“Perfect.”

“I have to admit it, Prudence, combining the cleanup with an animal release was brilliant. Everyone keeps asking when the release is going to happen. I guess they put a story in the paper about it this morning?”

I shrug. “I might have called theChronicleto tell them about finding Lennon yesterday, and used the opportunity to promote this event.”

He gives me a sidelong glance, beaming. “You do have a knack for this sort thing, don’t you?”

I shrug again. “We have to work with our strengths, and I figure, no one can resist those cute little faces.”

“I know I can’t.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and it seems like he holds my gaze a second longer than necessary before turning away and pulling another stack of tote bags from a cardboard box.

Warmth spreads through my body. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from grinning, because I know he didn’t really mean anything by it.

I busy myself scanning the crowd, looking for people I know. Ari and Jude both said they would try to come down after their shifts, but I don’t really think they’ll make it. I do recognize a handful of people from school. Not friends, but acquaintances, or just people I’ve seen in the halls. I also spot my eighth-grade English teacher and one of the librarians from the public library and even Carlos, who I’ve never seen outside of Encanto before.

Around eleven o’clock there’s what could almost be considered a rush. Quint and I hand out tote bags left and right, directing people where to throw their garbage and recyclables when their totes are full, and encouraging themto venture farther up the beach to where the earlier volunteers haven’t gotten to yet.

“This is beyond a doubt the best beach party I have ever been to!”

I glance up, startled. My parents are walking toward the tent, grinning. Dad is holding Ellie’s hand, and Penny is there, too, clutching something in both of her fists.

“Hey!” I say, going to greet them. Mom draws me into a hug. “What are you guys doing here? Dad, why aren’t you at the store?”

“We wanted to surprise you,” he says. “Besides, Jude and Ari can handle it. And I know, I know, you probably would have preferred that they come see you instead of your old man, but… what can I say? Your mom and I are dying to see what you’ve been working so hard on the last few weeks!”

“Look what I found!” says Penny, showing me the collection of broken shells she’s holding.

“I found one of them!” Ellie pipes up, trying to peer into Penny’s palms. She points at a broken shell. “That one.”

“Yes, Ellie found that one,” Penny concedes.

I smile at them both. Penny is the sort of kid who appreciates the simple things in life—things that I usually roll my eyes at—but today, I can almost understand what she sees in those broken, colorful bits.

And Ellie? Well, she’ll take any excuse to dig through the sand. I notice that she’s wearing her sparkly monkey dress again, and that there’s still a faint tomato juice stain that will probably never come out.

The sight of it gives me an uncomfortable twinge of guilt.

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