The structures were just a bit taller than the two-story house next to them, slightly different in width and height, although that might just have been a matter of perspective. They were all hollow and sort of cylindrical, but topped with pointy ends, like giant watchtowers surveying O’Leary. The one in the center was dark orange, while the ones on either side were blood red and yellow-gold. There appeared to be a fourth one, half-constructed, on theend.
I tilted my head to the left. Maybecrayons?
I tilted my head to the right. Nuclear missiles? Some kind ofclaws?
“Are they… carrots?” Iguessed.
“Carr… Wait, are you kidding?” he demanded. He looked at me with this expression of arrested laughter on his handsome face, like he’d been so sure I was giving him shit. But I wasn’t. Not even alittle.
“I have no clue what it’s supposed to be,” I told him honestly. “I’m sorry. Is it a local historything?”
He stared at me incredulously. “Come on,” he said. “It’sobvious.”
I shook my head. “Oh, pencils?”Iguessed.
“They’re… they’re cocks, Ev.” He looked at me pityingly. “Giantcocks.”
I stared at the sculptures again. I mean, theycouldbe cocks, if you only had the most basic understanding of what a penis lookedlike.
“Huh. Well, that’s interesting. And did the artist say why they didit?”
“No, Ev!” Si laughed again. “No one’s cornered Rena Cobb and asked her why she erected — pardon the pun — three enormous dicks in her front yard. It’s not exactly the kind of conversation folks have aroundhere.”
“So you don’t even really know if they’re meant to be penises?” I surmised. “You all justassumed?”
“No! I mean…” He frowned. “I don’t thinkso.”
It wasmyturn to laugh. “Oh, my God. What is wrong with this town? Freud could have set up shop here and never had toleave.”
Si sat up a little straighter and eased his foot off the brake to get us back on the road, but that little pucker between his eyebrows stayed in place. It was hilarious. It wassexy.
“You know,” he said a moment later. “I think you could be really good for this town, EverettMaior.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. My stomach flopped painfully, soaking up the validation like sunshine, and my heart also thrummed with very real fear because… damn, I liked that way toomuch.
He pulled the truck off the main road onto a rocky dirt path and drove us under a wooden sign that readPickett’s Campground. His mood changed with the road, becoming quieter, more reserved. Focused on his job. And goddamn it,thatwas appealingtoo.
I chuckled, running a hand over myface.
God.
I liked when he focused onme, I liked that he was dedicated to somethingelse. I liked the efficient way he breathed and how he managed to have ten fingers and two eyes. If I found out he had six toes, I’d wax rhapsodic about how six-toed men were so much more compelling than their five-toedbrethren.
Essentially, I was deep in lust and everything about the man wasappealing.
I laughed again, and Si glanced my way. “Everythingokay?”
I waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah! Yeah, totally. This is, uh, the place where the camper wasstaying?”
“Yep. Frank and Myrna Lucano’s campground. Don’t ask me how it got the name Pickett’s,” he said. “Not sure if anyone remembers anymore, even Frank andMyrna.”
I forced myself to look around at the scenery — trees upon trees upon trees, with peeks of red and gold among the green, and a tiny clearing visible just a little ways ahead. “It’spretty.”
“Wait till the fall colors really catch,” he said softly. “Frank always closes down at Labor Day, and I’ve told him he’s crazy. If he kept the place open, he could make as much in October as he does inJune.”
“But hedoesn’t?”
“Nope. Says autumn is a time for him and Myrna to enjoy the place. Sometimes their kids come home for the weekends. And of course, the locals are always parking here for a hike, stopping in to say hi. Faster than driving all the way around Lake Loughton or over to Camden to the nearest public lots.” He made a circular motion with his hand, like he was drawing me a map in the air. “But he and Myrna bought the place because they loved these woods so much, and for a few months a year, he’d rather not shareit.”
