Summer Accommodations: A Novel by Sidney Hart Page A

something. He’s not to be trusted, I’ve told you that but you’re going to have to learn the hard way.”
    I shrugged. It made no sense to continue the conversation because it would only lead to the same dead end. There was no budging Ron once he took a stand. Well, at least Heidi’s presence during lunch would be a pleasant distraction, I thought, and maybe she could get to know me and set me up with one of the counselors in the day camp. I looked around for Harlan to see if he was happy Heidi would be circulating at lunch. He was talking with Ivan and when he saw me approach he beckoned me into their conversation.
    â€œIvan and I were just saying that it’s likely it’s one of the bell hops who’s doing the thievery because they get to size up the merchandise, so to speak, on arrival. You know, the kind of car the guest is driving, the quality of the luggage, the jewelry the women wear even when they’re dressed casually for the trip up, a lot of little clues if you care to pay attention.” Ivan was staring at Harlan with great concentration.
    â€œYou know, Harlan, that wasn’t we who were saying that, it was all you. You seem pretty aware of what a thief looks for in a target.”
    â€œHa, ha, yeah, well I read a lot of crime novels—Mickey Spillane, Raymond Chandler, they tell you how it’s done. Why, you think I’m the thief, Ivan?” Once again Harlan’s honesty was being challenged and I was angry about it. I was sure that Ron had led Ivan down this path.
    â€œWhy would Harlan …?
    â€œI can speak for myself, Jack, don’t jump in here. Are you saying I’m the thief, Ivan?” Harlan suddenly stood straighter and taller as if readying himself to square off with Ivan Goldman who was easily three inches taller and thirty pounds heavier. But, as often happens when someone plants his feet and stands up for himself, his accuser backed down.
    â€œNo, no, Harlan, I was just saying that you should get all the credit for those ideas, that’s all. I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything, okay? I’m going to shoot some foul shots before lunch.” He gave me an affectionate punch in the shoulder and left.
    â€œJack, I appreciate your interest and concern but don’t get involved in matters pertaining to me, all right? I can see it’s going to be an uphill fight for respect in this place and I’ll tell you if I need your help, okay?” Embarrassed, I nodded. “You know he wasn’t trying to give me credit for figuring out who the thief might be, don’t you? He was making an accusation. That really pisses me off. Mr. All American misjudging me really pisses me off.” And then, as quickly as he had become angry, he was in a happy frame of mind. “So, I get to see my Heidi at lunch time every day, pretty good, right?”
    â€œYeah,” I said, “pretty damn good.”
    By lunchtime that same day Heidi was in the dining room. She was totally unlike any other girl I had seen at the hotel and so unlike all the other Bravermans in looks and manner that I wondered whether she might have been adopted. She was very beautiful, looking uncannily like the actress Susan Strassberg, and as graceful and nimble as a dancer. She walked on the balls of her feet, like someone unaware that the high heels had come off her shoes, and her long, straight hair was pulled back in a magnificent ponytail that flowed out behind her and seemed to do a dance of its own as she walked. Her manner was soft and self-assured, her voice musical, her disposition cheerful. She bore her gifts gracefully and graciously as though oblivious to the effects of her allure. I was emptying my dirty dishes in the kitchen when she came up beside me and began to speak.
    â€œAre you interested in meeting a nice girl, Jack?” she asked, adopting my adopted name.
    â€œSure,” I said. Actually, I was more interested in