Title: CHAPTER ONE
Author: Bob Cherny
Company: Hewlett-Packard Company

Rookery Island

By Robert H. Cherny

4stagewalker@gmail.com

“Rookery Island” is a collection of four works two of which which were registered for copyright individually. The works are:

Heron Baby Island - Copyright August 2011 - Originally published by Club Lighthouse of Canada

Murder as Competitive Business Strategy - Unpublished Copyright 2011

Kindle Edition.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely co-incidental.

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ROOKERY ISLAND
BOOK ONE
HERON BABY ISLAND

CHAPTER ONE

Natalie Marshall smiled when she spotted Stu Greene exactly where she expected to find him. He was hiding behind a bush with his camera pointed at a dark gray bird in the hedge between the football field and the wetland mitigation site.
Stu glanced up as Natalie approached. He saw the smile but did not pay attention to it. He did notice the reddish highlights in Natalie’s long dark hair as the light from the afternoon sun and the slight breeze conspired to give her a dark halo. Stu sighed. Her boyfriend was the campus bully and the school’s all-star all-American. That fact helped keep Stu from jumping up and saying something stupid to try to impress her which he might have done anyway if he was not preoccupied. Stu shifted his attention back to his camera. Natalie’s smile broadened. Composing a text message with her thumbs, Natalie stepped on Stu’s outstretched foot.
“Oww, Natalie watch where you’re walking.”
“Stu Greene, what are you doing hiding behind that bush? Did I step on your foot?”
“Yes, will you be quiet?”
Stu blinked and shook his head. Natalie Marshall was one of the prettiest girls in school. She had been on the gymnastics team last year until she had injured her wrist near the end of her final routine at the state finals last spring. Stu knew how she looked in her gymnastics uniform. As the school’s best sports photographer, Stu had taken her picture many times in her tight fitting uniform. Stu’s photograph of Natalie holding her wrist in pain with her team around her made that week’s cover of the school newspaper and the weekend sports round-up on two television stations and the city’s biggest newspaper. Stu liked Natalie. She seemed more refined than the other girls and was one of the few girls in school that did not tower over him. She didn’t swear all the time like they did and neither did he. To his way of thinking only stupid people swore all the time because they had nothing better to say. She looked like she could be his sister more than his sister did. This year the only team she was on was the debate team and their team practice pictures were not as exciting as gymnastics. Still, at the risk of offending her, Stu had other things on his mind.
“That bird looking at us is a Snail Kite. There aren’t many around here. They’re mostly in South Florida and don’t often get this far north into Central Florida. It’s a significant sighting.”
“Are you taking his portrait for the yearbook?”
Stu ignored the sarcasm. “If I can get close enough. Don’t scare him away.”
“Sorry, I was texting my mom to tell her I would be late coming home from school,” Natalie whispered. “I didn’t mean to step on your foot.”
“It’s not like it’s such a long walk. Can’t she wait until you get there?”
“No. Oh, look, he tipped his head.” Natalie tilted her head as she made eye contact with the bird. “What does that mean?”
Stu glanced at her long enough to smile. “He’s thinking. He hasn’t figured us out.”
Stu lifted the camera to his eye and braced the long lens with one hand and his elbow on his bent knee. The camera clicked three times.
“Did you get him? Can I look?”
“In a minute.”
“He’s moving his wings,” Natalie said. “Oh, he pooped.”
“He’s going to fly. Back up!”
“Why?”
The bird hopped up, stepped off the branch and spread its wings. Stu stood and tracked it with his camera, clicking off a frame every second or so. He stepped back and stepped on Natalie’s foot. She squealed, and the bird flew away.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare it.”
“It’s okay. We can look at the pictures now.” Stu held the camera so Natalie could look in the display.
“Wow, you got so close. You can see the feathers on his head.” Natalie frowned. “He looks mean.”
“Oh, but he’s not mean. He’s a Snail Kite. Snail Kites are only mean to snails. That’s all they eat. That’s why you don’t usually see them this far north. They go where the food is.”
“Oh, look, you got one with his wings spread all the way out. I can see the color under his wings. How pretty. How did you do that?”
“I caught the light. If he turned the other way, we would have seen the shadow. It’s luck.”
“It’s not all luck. You were waiting for him. I scared him away. I’m sorry.”
“He’s been in that tree every day after school for a week. There must be snails in the mitigation area.”
“And you come every day to take his picture? Will you come back tomorrow?”
“I got the picture I wanted. See, this one showing the coloration under his wings. I bet Mr. Daniels I could get the picture.”
“What did you bet him?”
“If I got the shot, I wouldn’t have to cover the dance club show next week.”
“Somebody has to shoot it for the yearbook.”
“Not me. Samantha likes that stuff. She’d enjoy it.” Stu waved his hand to emphasize his point and then stooped down to pick up his jacket from the ground. He had needed it in the morning chill, but the afternoon was pleasantly warm. He slithered into his backpack and slung his camera over his shoulder. When he was satisfied that everything was in place, he pointed along the walkway that was their way home.
As they walked, Natalie said, “I’ve seen Samantha’s pictures posted next to yours in the art room. I like yours better.”
“Samantha does sweet stuff. I don’t like most of her work, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Stu paused as he thought about Samantha’s pictures. “She works hard. Sometimes I think she works too hard. It’s not that tough.”
“For you maybe.”
“With digital cameras, it’s not as difficult as it used to be with film.”
“But you still have to know what you’re doing.”
Stu shrugged. “A little. Mostly it’s keeping your eyes open.”
The Snail Kite passed overhead and Stu tracked it squeezing off a dozen shots.
“Wow, did you get any good ones?”
“No, the sun was in my eyes, they’re just silhouettes.”
“Can I see anyway?”
“Sure.” Stu ran through the pictures he had just taken.
Natalie pointed at the camera’s display. “I like this one with his wings dark against the light clouds. Would you print me a copy?”
“Yeah, sure. Really, you like that one?”
“Yeah, it’s dramatic.”
“Sure, I’ll print it for you.”
“Thanks.”
“We need to go or your mother will be mad because you’re late.”
“She’ll be mad whenever I get there.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to tell Mrs. Bristol I was dropping out of debate team and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to drop debate team, but my mother is making me drop it.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t think the debate subject is appropriate for someone our age.”
“How is ‘Global Warming’ not suitable for a junior in high school?”
“It’s her opinion. Look, she won’t yell as much if you’re there. Will you come in with me?”
“Sure.”
Natalie lived a quarter mile away from Stu in an adjacent subdivision. The subdivision Natalie lived in was newer and nicer than the one where Stu lived. Stu walked by her house on his way to school. Stu’s older brother and Natalie’s older brother had played sports together and the Marshall family knew the Greene family although they tended to keep their distance.
“Doesn’t your mother wonder why you’re late?” Natalie asked.
“I’m always late shooting something. If it isn’t sports, it’s the yearbook. Besides, she knows about the Snail Kite. She’ll want to see the pictures blown up.”
“Do you take a lot of bird pictures?”
“Some,” Stu blushed.
“After we stop at my house, can I come over and look at your pictures?”
“Sure,” Stu stuttered. He glanced at her and then quickly glanced away.
Natalie’s mother was standing by the front door. “You’re late, young lady. You’re supposed to call me if you’re going to be late. And why is he here? Does Butch know you’re spending time with him?” She blocked the door barring Stu’s entry.
Natalie pulled Stu into the house pushing her mother out of the way. “I sent you a text. Didn’t you get it?”
“When did you send it?”
“When I left school, you know they don’t let us use our phones at school.”
Stu stepped up. “It’s my fault, Mrs. Marshall. I was taking pictures of a Snail Kite and I asked Natalie to stop so she wouldn’t scare it. It’s my fault she’s late.”
Natalie glanced at him in surprise. This was her fight. He did not need to defend her. She was glad he did, but he didn’t have to.
“Really?” Mrs. Marshall arched her eyebrows in an expression that Stu had seen crumble school administrators and opposing coaches. “Show me the pictures,” she demanded.
“I can show them on the camera’s little screen, but if you come over my house I can show them to you on the big screen in our living room,” Stu offered.
“The one in the camera will be good enough.”
Stu held the camera and showed Mrs. Marshall how to advance the pictures. When she got to the one Natalie asked Stu to print, Natalie said, “That’s my favorite.”
“You shot these today?” Mrs. Marshall asked.
“Less than an hour ago.”
“These are very nice.” Mrs. Marshall handed the camera back to Stu. “Natalie, did you tell Mrs. Bristol my feelings about the debate club?”
“I tried, but she wants to talk to you.” Natalie looked away and caught Stu’s eye.
“I told you to take care of this,” Mrs. Marshall shouted.
“Maybe I better go,” Stu said.
Natalie grabbed his elbow. “Please don’t go. Please.”
Stu looked back and forth between Natalie and her mother. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.
“Mrs. Bristol said she’ll call after dinner. I don’t want to drop the debate team.” Natalie looked to Stu for support, but he took a step back.
“Your prom dress came in. I thought we would pick it up before dinner.”
Natalie turned back to her mother. “The dress can wait. Stu took great pictures of a Snail Kite today and I want to look at them on his big screen. Stu said I could.”
At school, Natalie always used perfect diction and grammar. Some of Stu’s friends thought she was stuffy because of it, but Stu noticed that Natalie was almost “baby talking” her mother. Stu took a small step toward the door.
Mrs. Marshall glared at Natalie and then at Stu. “Is that right?”
“Yes, Mrs. Marshall, Natalie can come look at the pictures if it’s okay with you.”
“Is anyone home at your house?” Mrs. Marshall asked.
“My mother usually gets home from work before I leave school,” Stu said.
“Be back in time for supper.”
“Yes, Mom. Thank you.”
Natalie dragged Stu out of the house. As soon as they were clear, Natalie said, “Thank you. I didn’t want to go look at the dress and I didn’t want to be there when Mrs. Bristol called.”
Natalie spoke in the voice she used at school. Stu blinked at the contrast.
“You’re welcome. I’m sure you can come over anytime you need a safe place to hide.”
“I am counting on it. My mother wants us to go back to Virginia and stay with my grandparents this summer so I can do The Cotillion.”
“Cotillion? Really? Do they even do that anymore?”
“Yeah, there’s a school here, but my mother doesn’t think they’re good enough.”
“Somehow, I don’t picture you as the Cotillion type.”
“Can you imagine me with a bunch of snooty rich girls with legs as long as their horses?”
“Not really.”
“My mother and grandmother did The Cotillion and they insist that I do it. It sounds dreadful.”
“I agree.”
Stu and Natalie chatted about some of the other pictures Natalie had seen displayed at the school’s art show as they walked.
“Mom, I’m home,” Stu called as he opened the door.
“Stu, come to the kitchen.”
Stu dropped his backpack on the hall table and motioned for Natalie to follow him.
Stu’s mother looked up hearing two sets of feet coming in her direction. “Oh, hi Natalie, how are you?”
“Fine, Mrs. Greene, thank you.”
“That was an exciting game the other night. I saw you jumping up and down every time your brother scored a basket,” Stu’s mother said.
“Jason’s having a good year,” Natalie agreed. “He misses Danny. He was glad you came to the game.”
“Well, even though Danny graduated and we no longer have a son playing on the team doesn’t mean we don’t care about his former teammates. Did you see the article on Jason in Sunday’s sports section?” Mrs. Greene asked.
“He has a dozen copies.” Natalie chuckled and turned to Stu. “Did you take the picture?”
“Yes,” he said.
“How did they get it?” Natalie asked.
“I sent it to them,” Stu said.
“Do you do that a lot?” Natalie asked.
“I send pictures and they pay me for what they use,” Stu said with a shrug.
“Keeps him in ink and paper, and pays his monster cell phone bill,” Mrs. Greene said.
Natalie said, “Stu took pictures of a Snail Kite and I wanted to see them blown up.”
Mrs. Greene smiled. “Download to the shared drive so we can view them on the computer in the family room. Natalie, would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Stu’s mother returned with soft drinks. Stu ran through the pictures he had taken of the Snail Kite as well as a few he had taken at soccer practice. As a yearbook photographer, he always carried his camera. He took a lot of teasing about it, but he rarely minded because he always got the picture he wanted sooner or later.
Stu looked to his mother for approval. She had been an art major before deciding to teach elementary school “These are nice,” she said, “but you have better. I know you worked hard to get these, but they need careful cropping and color balancing before you can use them.”
“I won my bet with Mr. Daniels. I don’t have to shoot the dance club show,” Stu said.
“But you didn’t bet with me. Your sister is in that show and you will shoot it.”
“But, Mom.”
“You need the practice. It’ll be good for you.”
“Aw, Mom.”
“Would you like to discuss this with your dad?”
“No,” Stu said. “I’ll shoot it.”
“Show Natalie the pictures you took at Viera.”
“What’s Viera?” Natalie asked.
“It’s a wildlife refuge near Melbourne,” Stu said.
“How do you get there?” Natalie asked. “You can’t ride your bike that far.”
“Danny’s college won’t let freshmen have cars on campus, so I get to take his on weekends until he comes back for it.”
“What kind of bird is that?” Natalie asked.
“Great blue heron.”
“Look at how big its wings are,” Natalie said.
Stu smiled. “Yeah, they’re big birds.”
They viewed pictures Stu had taken at refuges and gardens all over Central Florida.
“Stu, these are awesome,” Natalie said.
“They’re okay,” Stu stammered. “I mean when you look at some of the stuff people like Ansel Adams or Alfred Stieglitz did, it’s not really that great.” Natalie’s praise embarrassed him and brought a flush to his cheeks.
“Don’t let him kid you. We’re proud of his photography,” Stu’s mother said. “Stu, weren’t you going to Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge tomorrow? Do you think Natalie might like to join you?”
“Do you want to?” Stu asked, turning to Natalie.
Natalie smiled a coy little smile as she thought about it. “Let me ask my mother. I have to be home for dinner soon anyway.”
“Stu, walk Natalie back and you can talk to Mrs. Marshall.”
“Sure.”
Natalie was in no hurry to go home. They stopped every time some flitty little bird passed by and Natalie made Stu try to identify it. Stu’s mother had called Natalie’s mother by the time they arrived.
Mrs. Marshall said she was not comfortable with the idea of Natalie spending the whole day with Stu. Mrs. Greene’s call had helped, but as little as she might like the idea, Natalie was old enough to make up her own mind and Butch was out of town with his family. Even so, she hedged before she decided to let Natalie go. Finally, Mrs. Marshall said, “Jason is in the regional basketball tournament at the University sports complex tomorrow night. We promised we would be there to cheer.”
“Mrs. Marshall, what time is the game?” Stu asked.
“He is scheduled to play at seven.”
“I can bring Natalie directly to the game if you like.”
“That will be fine.”
Stu thought for a moment and said, “Natalie, the best time to catch the birds is early in the morning. The people that are really into this get up at dawn, but where I want to go there are birds all day. Still, the morning light is best. I’ll see you about eight. That okay?”
“See you then,” Natalie said.

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