When they came back Snydely looked a little better. We put him in the back seat with Oscar and hit the road again. When I looked in the rear view mirror, Oscar was standing on the seat with his arm around Snydely's shoulders. Snydely didn't seem to mind. Willey took out his cell phone and called Eduardo again to tell him the Feds had taken Stevens into custody, and we were heading back to the safe house in Palm Harbor.
When Willey put the cell phone back in his pocket he said, "Eduardo wants us to drive back by a different route, and he wants us to go back to Tarpon Springs instead of Palm Harbor. He says there's a chance Stevens followed us all the way here from the safe house. He said it might be too dangerous to go back there."
I said, "I don’t think Stevens had to follow us. I think Snydely is right, Buckland knew when and where the deposition would take place. Stevens was here waiting for us."
"Lovely," Snydely said from the back seat.
"We'll go home on the Tamami Trail instead of Alligator Alley," I said. "We'll stay on it all the way to Naples. From there it's a straight run up to Tarpon Springs."
"You da boss," Willey said. We headed south to Eighth Street in the heart of the Cuban district. Eighth turns into Callee Ocho, and then into the Tamiami Trail, and runs parallel to Alligator Alley through the Everglades to the west coast. We were headed back to Sofie's.
Chapter Twenty
THE TAMIAMI TRAIL was a slower, more scenic road than Alligator Alley, but the wide expanses of saw grass were still daunting. Once in a while we saw an alligator or two. An occasional flock of Snowy Egrets would take flight and circle the area. The best part was it was daytime. Only the occasional bug splattering on the windshield. I had to wonder how the Seminoles were able to survive in this wilderness. Between the heat, the alligators, the snakes, and the bugs, they must have had their hands full. It couldn't have been a fun place to live. I turned on the radio and settled in for the long ride. At the top of the hour the news came on. I was only half listening when I heard the name, John Flaherty. Willey beat me to the volume knob.
The announcer went on, ". . . were reports today that John Flaherty had gone missing. The owner of one of Florida's largest construction companies was reported missing early this morning by his wife, who hasn't seen him since he went out to buy a loaf of bread two days ago. In a related matter, police have issued a warrant for Flaherty's arrest. So far the charge has not been made public. The police say they are working in conjunction with the Attorney's General's Office."
"Sounds like he went on the lam," Willey said. "Things must be heating up." The newscaster continued, "Also today, Senator Buckland tried to push a bill through the Senate that would provide fifty million dollars to purchase wooden bows and arrows for Samoans living in Alaska. Shortly afterward the Senator was escorted from the chamber by his handlers."
That was good news. If Flaherty was in hiding there was a good chance his company would put a hold on its projects--one of them being turning our park into a parking lot. And it sounded like Senator Buckland was being sat on. The ride went much smoother after that. When we reached Indian country we started to see small stores by the side of the road, called Trading Posts. Then there were the alligator wrestling attractions. Tourists were filing in to see real alligators up close. At the airboat rides we parked and watched the boats full of tourists fly through the saw grass, the airplane propeller at their backs pushing them on at high speed. As always in the Everglades, the sun reflected the bright green of the bushes into the jet black water below.
We continued on the final leg of our trip through the River of Grass. As we came to another Trading Post, which were really just tourist trap gift shops, Willey said, "Barney, pull in there. I want to get a postcard to send to Mary." I parked and we all climbed out. The sign said, "Billy Bowlegs Trading Post." It looked like it could have been around for a hundred years. Trees had grown tall around it and it had a front porch with a railing that was hand carved.
Billy Bowlegs had been a Seminole Chief who lived about a hundred and seventy years ago. He had raised banana trees in his village and was proud of them--until the Calvary came in and knocked them down. Billy and his band of Indians retaliated by attacking and killing a group of calvery. That started another of the three Seminole Wars. I took Oscar by the hand and we went inside to look around. Snydely got out and walked around to stretch his legs.
The entire store was packed to the rafters with every kind of goods you would expect to find in an old time general store. Judging from the thick layer of dust that covered everything, it had been there for a long time. Behind the counter stood a withered, sun browned old Indian wearing a silk top hat. He had to be the owner. While Willey looked at the postcards I went up to the counter and said, "Hello."
"Good day white man, the Indian replied. The old codger was really playing it up.
"You must be Billy Bowlegs," I said.
"Chief Billy Bowlegs the fifth," the old man corrected.
"Have you lived here all your life?"
"Not yet. I'm still alive." The old guy was a character. "He looked over at Oscar and said, Nice monkey. Him make good soup." I felt Oscar grip my hand a little tighter. Could Oscar understand what the old guy was saying? Or was it just the way the old Indian was looking at him that made him nervous?
"Not really," I said. "His name is Oscar and he can't even boil water let alone make soup."
The old geezer grinned at me. He said, "You look just like a soldier I met during the third war." He was talking about the Third Seminole War between the Seminoles and the U.S. Calvary. That was a long time ago. This guy was old, but not that old.
"So I remind you of that soldier, Huh? He must have been a good looking devil." The old man reached under the counter and came up with a scalp--minus the rest of the soldier. It was the real thing. It was pinned down to an ancient block of wood, and there was piece of forehead still attached to it. I was at a loss for words.
The old Indian said, "He ain't so good looking since I took this from him.
I backed away from the counter and found Willey. "Let's go." I said. "I want to get home before dark." I grabbed Oscar's hand before he became soup and we waited outside. When Willey came out I said, "That old bastard wanted to make soup out of Oscar."
Willey said, "Did he give you the recipe?"
Snydely picked Oscar up in his arms and climbed into the back seat with him. We got back on the road and finally we turned north toward Tampa. I looked in the rear view mirror. Snydely and Oscar were sound asleep, side by side. Snydely had his arm around Oscar.
It was after seven when we pulled into Sofie's driveway. I was looking forward to some of Sofie's home cooking and a nice soft bed.
Eduardo had told Sofie we would be bringing Snydely back with us. She met us at the door and welcomed us in. "It's good to see you again, Mister Snydely, She said. "I hope you'll forgive me for scaring you the first time we met, but I have to be careful. Some of the people who stay here, their lives are in danger, and it's my job to protect them. I hope you'll understand. It was nothing personal."
Snydely still looked a little dubious, but he said, "That's quite understandable, Ma'am. Think nothing of it."
"Thank you," Sofie said. "Please, everyone sit down. Supper is almost ready. We all sat around the kitchen table while Sofie placed plates of steaming hot food in front of us. It was pork chops smothered in a red sauce with mushrooms and peppers, and loaves of freshly baked bread. Sofie fussed over Oscar, putting a bib on him and cutting his meat so he could eat with his fingers.
Sofie kept looking at Willey's dark hair and beard. Willey had to make up a lame excuse about looking younger for his new license photo. We couldn't tell her we broke into Flaherty's house. That would make her an accessory after the fact.
The next morning Sofie went shopping for groceries. We offered to pay for them, but she said she got reimbursed by the government. When she came home we helped her carry in the bags. She had a big smile on her face as she reached
into her purse and took out two tickets.
"I ran into a friend of mine who sells real estate," she said. "She gets free tickets for different things and she gave me two tickets to see Tom Jones this afternoon in Tampa. Are any of you Tom Jones fans?"
Nobody said anything, so I said, "Sure, I'll go. I kind of like his music."
Sofie smiled and said, "Lunch will be ready in a few minutes." We all went out on the back deck to get out of her way.
"Looks like you got yourself a date tonight," Willey smirked.
I said, "Shut up you old goat. You're just jealous." Willey hee-heed.
After lunch Sofie came out of her room wearing a peach colored pull over jersey and jeans. She had her hair done up in the back and I noticed she had put on a little lipstick. We just stared. She looked like a young woman--and her jeans fit her just fine. "Ready?" she asked.
"See you later," I said to Willey, Snydely, and Oscar. I opened the door for Sofie and we were off to see Tom Jones.
The Pavilion was lit up like a Christmas tree. Crowds of middle aged and older women were streaming in. It was definitely an older crowd--nobody under fifty. Tom Jones was sixty-five years old, and his fans were that old or older. Sofie wasn't the only grandmother in the audience. There were a lot of grandmothers there, and they were excited. You could see it in their faces.
We got good seats in the middle of the floor and settled in. I looked around. There were a few men in the crowd, but it was mostly women. The curtain went up and we were entertained by a band that had a black male singer who was pretty good. That went on for a half-hour. I noticed there was an old man sitting in front of us. He was staring straight ahead. His face was expressionless. He didn't smile, he didn't applaud. He was obviously deep into dementia.
I thought, that's nice, somebody went out of their way to take the old guy out for the night. It didn't matter that he didn't know what was going on, at least he was out and among people.
Then the time came. Tom Jones came running out on stage singing, "She's A Lady." Everyone jumped to their feet, screaming and applauding. Sofie, too. I stood up just so I wouldn't look out of place. Then the crowd started to dance in place. Two plump, middle aged women next to me were swinging white pillowcases over their heads, dancing and singing along with Tom. What did the pillowcases mean? Did it mean they wanted to sleep with him? Then I noticed the pillow cases had more than one opening . . . and then it came to me. It wasn't pillow cases they were swinging--it was their panties. They were swinging their bloomers around. Everywhere I looked there were older women swinging their panties over their heads. Those closer to the stage were tossing their undies onto the stage.
Suddenly I realized the old guy with dementia wasn't in his seat. Had he wandered off in all the commotion and nobody noticed? And then I saw him. He was standing up, dancing like a teenager, a big smile on his face. It was like the night of the living dead.
Sofie was having a great time, singing and dancing along with the music. She didn't look like a grandmother then. After the concert we stopped at a hotel and went in to the bar to have a drink. As we walked Sofie put her arm in mine. I felt like a teenager again. We took a table and ordered our drinks. We talked about how strange it was that we were both carrying guns at an age when we should be sitting on a porch in a rocking chair.
"Yes," Sofie said. "Sometimes life throws surprises at us, but Eduardo keeps me young. He always finds something for me to do. He knows I love to feel that I'm helping him. He takes good care of me. My son and his family live in Chicago, so I seldom get to see them. But I can't complain, they're all healthy and they call me often. Do you have any children, Barney?"
"No, we never did," I said. "But I can't complain either. I have my health and I manage to keep busy so I don't get bored." Mostly I keep busy trying to outrun my creditors. I leaned in a little closer and said, "Tell me about Tarpon Springs in the old days. I want to write an article about it."
Sofie's face grew sad at the mention of the past. "It was a wild place then," she said. "And the men risked their lives diving for the sponges. Too many young men were brought to the surface dying from the bends, bleeding from their eyes and ears. My husband was one of them. But I had family here, they took care of my son and me." She paused for a second, deep in thought. Then she said, "The city has come a long way since then, but I still remember those old days with a sense of longing." Just then we heard a commotion behind us. We turned to look. Tom Jones had come into the bar and people were flocking around him trying to get his autograph. We decided it was time to leave
****
Snydely was fuming. How could they leave him alone with only a senile old Cracker and a monkey for protection? He might as well be on his own. He looked around, Willey and Oscar were watching television. Willey didn't care if Snydely lived or died. His only hope was to escape from these clowns. He would be safer on his own. He had a gun, it was time for him to leave and take his chances. If he waited any longer Flaherty would find him, and that would be the end of him. He sat quietly, planning his escape. Willey and Oscar were drinking beer. Soon Willey would have to go to the bathroom. That would be Snydely's chance. He would slip out of the house and run for his life. It was his only hope.
Fifteen minutes later, Willey got up and headed for the bathroom. Snydely got up and patted Oscar on the head. "Goodbye, Oscar. Take good care of yourself." Oscar smiled at Snydely. Then Snydely went out the door. In an instant he was gone, with the door closed behind him. He didn't want Oscar to get out and get hurt.
****
When Sofie and I arrived at her house after the concert, we stopped at the front door.
"Thank you, Barney,' she said. "I had a wonderful time."
She looked prettier than ever in that light. "Me too," I said, and leaned in to kiss her. It was a slow, lingering kiss. Was it my imagination or were my dentures sliding around? Just then the door flew open and Willey came running out.
"Where is he?" Willey yelled. "I just went to the bathroom for a minute and when I came out he was gone."
He had lost Snydely, damn. Now we wouldn't get paid. "Check out the back deck," I said.
"I already did. He's not there." Oscar came out to see what all the yelling was about. I grabbed Oscar's hand and said, "Let's go look for him. He can't have gone very far."
The four of us piled into the Wrangler and headed toward the center of town. As we drove down Athens Street Sofie said, "There he is." Snydely was on the left side of the street, almost at Dodecanese Boulevard. Then he seemed to disappear. I parked the Wrangler illegally on Athens Street, and we all got out. We looked down the Boulevard. Snydely was nowhere in sight. The right side of the Boulevard was waterfront with the sponge boats at dock. The left side was shops. They were all closed. We were the only people on the streets. I knew there was an open air mall called The Sponge Exchange that wound around through alleyways behind the shops, and exited out onto Dodecanese Boulevard ahead of us. It also exited onto Athens Street behind us.
"He must have gone into the mall through the Athens street entrance here," I said. "There's another entrance down Dodecanese near that little cigar stand. Willey, you and Sofie go watch that entrance in case he tries to come out there. I'll take Oscar and check out the mall from this entrance." They hurried down the Boulevard toward the other entrance. I grabbed Oscar's hand and we went back up Athens street a little way, and into the mall entrance.
We came in through a wide alley, then the mall opened up into a courtyard. Snydely was nowhere in sight. In the middle of the courtyard was an old sponge boat sitting in a cradle. It was a tourist attraction. Oscar and I walked all around the courtyard, looking in all the dark corners. Snydely wasn't in the courtyard.
I took Oscar's hand and we started toward the other entrance. We had looked everywhere . . . except, could Snydely be hiding on the sponge boat in the courtyard? We walked back to the boat. I looked up. The name on the side said, Agean Isles. It was about forty feet long and it was cradled in a r
ecessed pit so it wouldn't sit up so high the people wouldn't be able to see the deck. The pit had a low railing to keep people from falling in. Oscar and I walked all around the pit, Snydely wasn't hiding there. I wondered if Snydely had climbed up onto the boat and was hiding there. I didn't want to try scaling the side of the boat so I stood Oscar on my shoulders and he hopped aboard. Oscar looked down at me. "Find Snydely," I told him. He seemed to recognize the name and he went off down the deck toward the bow. A minute later I heard Snydely say, "Leave me alone, I'm not going back." Oscar came back to the rail and looked down at me as if to say, what should I do now?
"Snydely," I said in my sternest voice, "You come down from there right now."
"What are you going to do if I don’t . . . keep me after school?"
I decided to lay some guilt on him. Maybe that would work. "Listen, you ungrateful turd, we're risking our lives protecting you. The least you could do is cooperate."
"Is that why you left me unprotected and ran off with Sofie? Leaving me with nothing but a crazy old Cracker and a monkey to protect me?"
He had me there. "We were only gone for a few hours," I whined. "It wasn't my fault, Sofie wanted to see Tom Jones . . . you saw how she looked in those jeans." No answer.
"Oscar," I said. "Go and try to get him again." Oscar just stared at me. I shooed him away, waving my hand, and Oscar went off again. I waited and waited. No Oscar, no Snydely. Willey and Sofie came around the corner, they must have gotten tired of waiting for us.
"He's on the boat," I told them. "Oscar's up there now, trying to get him down." Just then Oscar appeared at the rail and smiled down at us. Then Snydely was there beside him. He had changed his mind. Maybe he decided he would be safer with us than he would be alone.
"How am I supposed to get down from here?" Snydely asked.
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