The Underside of Joy

were drowned for real.’ He fell back on the bed and buried his head in Joe’s pillow.
    ‘Well? Yesterday? I heard an amazing story that a wise old man told me.’
    ‘A true story? Or a pretending story?’
    ‘True. Absolutely. When he was a little boy, even littler than you, he almost drowned.’
    Zach gasped, and for a minute I was afraid the whole thing would backfire. ‘Did he die like Daddy?’
    ‘Well, no, he didn’t. He almost died. He was under a lot of water. And he said he felt happy, even though he was almost drowned. But then he came to the top of the water and breathed in air and he lived.’
    ‘Did a mermaid save him?’
    ‘No. Remember? True story.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘So I was thinking . . . Maybe Batman and Robin only almost drowned.’
    ‘And Catwoman? And the Joker too?’
    ‘Every plastic being you can think of.’
    Now he was jumping up and down on the bed, whooping and hollering. We raced outside, still in pyjamas, the dewy meadow grass licking our feet. I grabbed the shovel, with Callie joining in the digging once she saw what we were up to, and we had our own little action-figure Easter celebration, as we dug up one mud-caked plastic body after the other – the heroes and even the villains – redeemed now from their sins, born again the very morning that Capozzi’s Market would experience its own joyous and miraculous rebirth.
    Most of the town of Elbow turned out for the opening. They filled the store, spilling out onto the porch and the street, and even Clem Silver walked down to sign maps. The owners of the Elbow Inn brought their large historical photo of the picnickers on the river, framed and tied with a bow, to hang on the wall. I was glad and appreciative to see everyone, but I also knew that Life’s a Picnic was not going to survive on neighbourly goodwill alone. For one thing, each one of them could go home and pack their own picnics at a fraction of the cost. We needed hungry tourists. We needed wealthy out-of-towners.
    We needed a boatload of publicity.
    I grabbed David’s arm. ‘So where are the hordes of press?’
    He patted my hand. ‘Oh, don’t worry. They’ll trickle in over the next few weeks. But I’m expecting someone will show up today. Isn’t it marvellous? Everyone loves it!’
    ‘I heard Ray Longobardi talking about how he might need to take out another mortgage so he can go on a frickin’ picnic.’
    ‘Ray Longobardi is hardly our target market. Don’t pay attention to him. His idea of a picnic is a Spam sandwich on Wonderbread with an Old Milwaukee. I heard Franny Palomarino raving about the luscious raspberry-painted porch furniture, and that this was the best chicken curry salad she’d ever tasted in her entire life. Do your lurking by Franny and maybe you’ll calm down.’
    Frank walked in carrying a basket of handmade soaps. Lizzie had her own very successful soap-making business she operated from their old barn. ‘Lizzie couldn’t make it,’ he said. ‘But she sent these.’
    I took the basket. ‘That’s nice.’ We both knew that she could easily have made it to the opening, but what she couldn’t do was be my friend. ‘Tell Lizzie I said thank you.’ Frank hugged me and set off to overload his plate.
    Annie wore an outfit similar to mine that she’d picked out, clogs with leggings, a long peasanty top. She’d asked me to pull all her hair back into a French braid, so her perfect pearl of a face glowed as she said to one of her friends from school, ‘You would not believe how long it took to get these tablecloths arranged just right.’
    I went over to her and said, ‘You’ve done a great job with the place.’ She beamed even brighter. Zach whizzed through with Batman and Robin and a trail of little boys following him. I opened the door. ‘The fresh air is calling.’ They ran out.
    Lucy sat on the front porch. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still watching him. They just made a beeline before I could lay my body down in front of the door.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I looked around. ‘Seen anyone jotting down notes, maybe carrying a microcassette recorder?’
    She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
    I shrugged, then started setting up glasses, filling them with champagne and apple cider, and passing them out. I gathered everyone outside, in front of the porch like they had been on every Fourth of July. I stood on the porch like Joe always had and raised my glass. ‘To get this done? In just a couple of months? A downright miracle. You