Geezer Paradise

by Robert Gannon

  Once again we moved silently through the darkness, travelling through the back yards, until we were one house away from mine. We crouched down and looked around for any sign of danger. The place was eerily quiet. We came at my place from the back yard and went into the carport through the passage-way between the storage shed and the house. I had put up a few sheets of white plastic lattice on the open side of the driveway last year. It gave us some cover. We crept to the side door and let ourselves in. So far, so good. When we got into the kitchen I grabbed the laptop and the charger from the table. Then we went back outside and I locked the door behind us. We started back taking the same route we had taken coming in.

  We were one house away when a gunshot rang out. We took off running, well, half-running as fast as we could, keeping to the shadows. We ran until we couldn't run anymore. Then we crouched in the darkness, trying to catch our breath. Nothing was moving. I could hear a few of the park's residents talking from up the street. They had heard the gunshot. That was good. The residents would call the police. The shooter would know that, and get out of there before the cops showed up. We worked our way back to the fence and climbed over. I picked up the plastic crates and flung them. We hurried back to the Wrangler and headed back to Tarpon Springs.

  "You were right about Flaherty not giving up on us," Willey said. "That bastard must really want to kill us."

  "But it was worth the trouble to get my laptop back," I said. "Thanks for coming with me."

  "Don't mention it. How about we stop and buy some beer on the way home, after we buy some clothes."

  "I forgot about telling Sofie we were going to buy clothes," I said. "It would look kind of strange if we came back empty handed."

  "You don't think Sofie would object to us drinking some beer, do you?"

  "Not if we bring her a bottle of good wine," I said.

  As we drove I realized I wasn't as upset about being shot at this time as I was the first time at Ransom's. Do you get used to getting shot at after a while? I had a feeling I'd find out before this whole thing came to an end. We stopped at a package store and picked up some beer and a fifteen dollar bottle of Rose for Sofie. Then we went off to buy some clothes.

  When we got back to Sofie's we all sat out on the back deck, watching the lights of the boats going up and down the river and drinking beer. Sofie wasn't too sure about Oscar drinking beer, but I explained Oscar's background to her, and how he was used to drinking beer. That seemed to mollify her a little. Oscar was a good boy, sipping his beer. Sofie even had a few glasses of wine with us before she started yawning. Then she went to bed.

  "It sure is nice here," I said.

  "Well, don't get too comfortable," Willey said. "Sitting here isn't helping us get our homes back."

  "You're right," I said. "But what can we do?" We sat quietly, searching for a way to get back into our houses.

  Then it came to me. "I have an idea," I said. "I remember Mary telling me about some old Indian artifacts her grandfather found years ago. She's got a box full of the stuff. I remember telling her she should donate them to a college or a museum. She said she was going to but she never mentioned them again. I think she just forgot about it." Willey gave me a blank stare.

  "Don't you see?" I said. "If Indian artifacts are found somewhere, it usually means that place was an Indian burial ground. Sacred ground! You can't build condos on sacred ground. They won't allow it."

  Willey perked up at that news. "Barney, sometimes I actually think you've got a brain. That's it, that’s the answer to our problem. All we have to do is plant some of those trinkets in the park, and have somebody find them and call the newspapers. You think Mary still has them?"

  "Give her a call and ask her," I said.

  Willey opened Mary's cell phone and called her new number. "Hello, Mary, it's Willey, Barney and I were just wondering about that old Indian stuff your grandfather gave you. Do you still have it? You do! That's terrific. Here, Barney will tell you his plan." Willey handed the phone to me and I told Mary what we wanted to do.

  "That's a good idea." Mary said. "Why didn't I think of that? I'll be the one that finds them and calls the newspapers.

  "That could put you in danger," I said.

  "Don't worry about me, Barney. Unlike Freddy, I have a gun. And I know how to use it. If they mess with me they'll be sorry." Willey was right, she was a fighter. We made arrangements to meet Mary tomorrow night and take the artifacts from her. The plan was, Willey and I would go back to the park after dark and plant some of them in the ground. We weren't worried about Flaherty's thugs because we wouldn't be going near the front of the park where our houses are. We'd plant the stuff right smack in the middle of the park.

  We would keep some of it to plant in different parts of the park if need be, to make sure the entire park would be designated as an historic site. Willey and I wondered if they would let us go on living there after the park was designated an historical site. We decided they probably would. The plan was on.

  The next night we decided we wouldn't tell our plan to Sofie. We figured the fewer people who knew about it the better. We told her we were going target shooting. It gave us an excuse to carry the gun. We got into the Wrangler and I said, "Wait a minute, I forgot my glasses, can't drive without my glasses." I went back inside. When I came out and got into the Wrangler again I said, "Damn, I forgot my hearing aid." I went back inside again.

  When I came out again and got into the Wrangler Willey said, "You sure have a lot of parts, Barney."

  "Yes, I said. "When I die they'll bury me in one big box and seven l boxes."

  "Next you'll be getting a toupee."

  "I'm not bald," I said. "I just have a wide part."

  We drove in silence to meet Mary in a McDonald's parking lot in Palm Harbor. We figured it would be safer to meet out of town.

  Mary held a cardboard box in her arms.

  "Hi, Mary. Thanks for coming."

  "Don't thank me. I have just as much at stake as you do. I'm just glad you guys came up with this idea." I looked into the box. It was almost filled with arrow heads, pottery shards, rough tools, beads and bones. And that was only what I could see without digging down into the stuff.

  "This is perfect, Mary. Where did your grandfather find all this stuff?"

  "He told me he found it in a shell mound on Captiva Island down near Naples. In those days there were no laws about removing these things. People just picked them up as souvenirs." I carried the box to the Wrangler. Willey opened the rear gate and folded the rear seat over. I put the box on the floor and locked the Wrangler.

  "How about a burger and fries?" I asked Mary.

  "Sounds good. I'm starving."

  "Me too," Willey echoed. We trooped into the restaurant, waited for our orders and sat way down the back where we could talk in private.

  Willey asked Mary, "Do you think the town will throw us out of the park when this stuff is found? You know, sacred ground and all that."

  "I hadn't thought of that," she said. "Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants? We can't ask around until the artifacts are found, either. And then it would be too late. I'll do some research on my computer and see what I can find out. I don't think we should wait, though. This afternoon a survey crew was in the park marking off the boundaries." We told her we were going to the park later that night to get things started.

  "Where's your monkey," Mary asked.

  "He's staying with his grandmother," Willey said.

  "His grandmother?"

  "It's a long story," I said. "Mary, how are you going to pretend you found the Indian stuff? It's going to be buried."

  "Just leave that to me," she said. "I can be creative when I have to be. Just let me know when the stuff is buried, and where. And leave me some kind of marker so I can find at least a few pieces. I'll take care of the rest."

  We finished eating and went back out to the parking lot. I checked the back of the Wrangler. The box was still there.

  "Thanks agai
n, Mary," I said. "Let's hope this plan works. We're running out of options."

  "I'll keep my fingers crossed," she said, and waved goodbye as she drove out of the lot. Willey and I got into the Wrangler and drove south toward the park. We entered the park the same as we did when we came for my computer. We found the plastic crates and used them to get over the fence again. Once again we stayed in the shadows and walked behind the houses, hidden from the street. This time we headed straight for the middle of the park. I carried the box of trinkets, as Willey called them, and he carried a straight bladed shovel we had bought on the way down.

  We stayed in the shadows until we came to 377 Second Avenue. Mary had told us it was an empty house, which made planting the artifacts easier. Willey used the straight shovel to cut out a square piece of sod. The depth of the square hole was about three inches--which was the depth of the grass roots. I had a garden tool that I used to stab into the ground at the bottom of the shallow hole. Then I inserted four different artifacts into the stabbed places at different depths and angles. I tamped the dirt down so it would be hard again. It couldn't look like the earth had been disturbed. Willey replaced the square of sod and stepped on it to flatten it. It was impossible to see that the ground had been tampered with.

  Finally, I took an arrow head and inserted it into one of the seams in the sod so that only the tip of it protruded above the ground. Then we put a bottle cap down beside it so Mary could find it. We repeated the process a half-dozen times in the same area, with different pieces buried in the ground, and different markers. The rest were for the archeologists to find.

  "I guess that's all for now," I said. "Let's get out of here." We picked up the box and the tools, and walked through the shadows until we came to the fence and the plastic crates. We climbed over the fence, threw the crates into the underbrush, and pushed our way through the bushes to the Wrangler. Then we loaded our stuff into the back of the Wrangler and headed back to Tarpon Springs.

  On the way back to Sofie's we called Mary and told her where to look for the buried pieces and what we used as markers. She said she would do it first thing in the morning so it would make the afternoon papers. I told her it might be a good idea to call the local TV stations and tell them, too. When we got back to Sofie's she asked us how the target shooting went. We gave her blank stares, we had completely forgotten our lame excuse for going out.

  "It was terrific," I said. "Hit the bull's eye every time." I don't think she bought it, but she didn't say anything. Later, we all sat out on the back deck. Willey and I were antsy. We could hardly wait for tomorrow and the big discovery.

  The morning started quietly enough, but by noon the story of the Indian find was on the TV news. The talking heads were happily telling South Florida of an historic discovery: "Indian artifacts have been found in the Blue Orchid Mobile Home Park in Citrus Bay . . ." We watched the videos of TV crews milling around inside the park. Mary had done an excellent job. When the afternoon paper arrived there was a picture of Mary smiling, and holding up an arrowhead. I was still worried about Mary's safety, afraid the notoriety would attract the attention of Flaherty and his goons.

  I used Willey's phone to call Mary and find out what else was happening in the park. She said, "A group of students from U of Tampa has just shown up to start excavating the site. And the word is that Flaherty is bringing in an expert to debunk the find. I don't think they'll get very far because the artifacts are real. They'll carbon date them to determine their age. The bones and pottery will tell them how old they are. And a few minutes ago a group of old ladies from The Preservation of Our Heritage Society, showed up to protest. So far I can't figure out if they're protesting the group from the U of Tampa, or the expert who's trying to debunk the find. This place is like a circus. All we need are some elephants to make it complete."

  "I don't have any elephants," I said. "But I could lend you a monkey."

  "Oscar would fit right in with this bunch."

  Then I asked, "Mary, is McKnight still in the hospital?"

  "No, he's recuperating in a nursing home. He won't be back for two weeks."

  "Do you still have the keys to his place?"

  "Yes, I check on it from time to time. Why?"

  I said, "Willey and I would like to come by and see the circus for ourselves, and McKnight's place would be perfect. We could see without being seen"

  "Sure," Mary said. "You and Willey should be safe in this crowd. Hit men don't usually hang around where there are television cameras. I'll leave McKnight's side door unlocked for you."

  "We'll lock it back up when we leave," I said.

  "When will you get here?"

  "We'll be there in about an hour. By the way, how did you work out how you happened to find the artifacts?"

  "I told them I was walking my poodle, Bubbles, when she suddenly stopped and dug an arrow head out of the ground."

  "I thought pets weren't allowed in the park."

  "They're not, and I don't have a dog. But they don't know that."

  "You're a little devil," I said. "We'll be there in an hour. Bye."

  Willey was watching the news. I told him what Mary said.

  "Mary's behind on the news," Willey said. "A group of Indians has shown up to claim the land as their own. Crowds of people are stopping to rubber neck and the riot police have been called in to control the crowds. I haven't seen this kind of excitement since Brittany forgot to wear her undies."

  We told Sofie that something was going on at the park and we had to look into it. She made us promise to be careful. There was no question about Oscar coming with us. Sofie wouldn't allow it. Willey and I climbed into the Wrangler and headed off to the circus.

  We turned in at the back of the farm and tried our best to hide the Wrangler. Then we recovered the plastic crates and went over the fence. There were no people inside the park. Everybody was up at the front gate enjoying the Show. Still, we walked through the backyards and stayed off the streets as much as possible. When we got to McKnight's place we found the side door unlocked, just as Mary had promised. We went in and locked the door behind us.

  From the living room we had a good view of the front entrance to the park. We kneeled on the couch and peered out the windows. Mary wasn't exaggerating when she said it was a circus. The Indians had come in full tribal dress. One of them was wearing a long, feathered war bonnet. He must have been the Chief. His outfit was impressive, except for the sneakers. They were doing some kind of dance. Willey thought it was The Green Corn Dance. A large crowd of spectators had gathered, and the riot police were trying to keep them all apart.

  The little old ladies from The Perseveration of Our Heritage group were arguing with the news people, and a street juggler was doing his thing in the middle of it all. We watched as a truck pulled up carrying wooden poles and bales of thatch. The Indians unloaded the truck and carried it's cargo to the park's clubhouse where they proceeded to build a chickee on the clubhouse's front lawn. The park manager, a lady named, Meg, was trying to stop them. The park residents stood back at a distance, taking it all in.

  Then an open backed National Guard truck pulled up carrying about a dozen armed soldiers. They jumped down from the truck and cleared out all the spectators, the Indians, the U of Tampa students, and the little old ladies from The Preservation of Our Heritage Society. Then the soldiers stood guard at the entrance. Willey and I both knew the National Guard showing up was the work of Senator Buckland. Soon the park was back to its usual sleepy self. Mary opened the front door and walked into McKnight's living room.

  "What do you think of that?" she asked. "Buckland must have leaned on the Governor to get the National Guard here. It must be nice to have friends in high places."

  "Do you think they can squash the whole thing?" I asked.

  "No, they'll just make sure that the bureaucrats in Tallahassee drag their feet until it's too late and the condo's are built. Then they'll put a display of the artifacts and maybe a statue of an Indian inside th
e clubhouse, in honor of the Sacred Burial Ground beneath it."

  "Well, the party's over," Willey said. "There's nothing more we can do here. We might as well go." We said goodbye to Mary and headed out of the park and back to Tarpon Springs. We were not happy campers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ON OUR WAY back to Sofie's I said, "Wait a minute. Let's go to Bertha's and ask the Judge what he thinks about all this. I'm sure he's seen it on TV."

  "Good idea, Barney." We turned around and headed down to Clearwater.

  Bertha's looked just as it did the last time we were there. The same crowd was at the bar. Didn't any of them work? The crowd was yelling at the TV over some sporting event. Bertha waved as she moved up and down the bar serving drinks. Frank Sinatra was still moaning in the background. It made me grind my teeth. My first job out of school was in a department store where they played Sinatra songs day and night. By the time they played One More For The Road, for the thirteenth time, we would mosey up to the snack bar, where Ed, the snack bar guy, would give us a glass of orange juice for fifteen cents. For another fifteen cents he would take the glass under the counter and pour a shot of vodka into it. By late afternoon the snack bar was a popular place.

  The judge sat alone at the end of the bar. We walked over to the Judge and said hello. We sat down and gave Bertha our order, including one for the judge.

  "How are you?" the Judge asked.

  "Not so good," I said. Bertha came with our beer. I really didn't like drinking beer that early in the day, but I took a swallow just to be sociable.

  I said, "We came to ask if you saw that business about the discovery of an Indian burial ground up in Citrus Bay."

  "Was that your park . . . The Blue Orchid?" the Judge asked. Willey and I nodded.