57 Harpers Gold (1/2)
On Sunday, 18th of January, 2035, Li Yang and the Lees watched the TV broadcast in Rose Fogerty's room. It was warm in the apartment: the heating had been on all morning, and they also had hot running water. They all had a bath, they all had a hearty meal, and now they all were seated in front of the TV set, with the cat purring in Charlene's lap. It really felt like normal life, and Li Yang found himself close to crying.
Wiping away a nonexistent tear, he glanced at the cat. Its eyes were closed and it was a picture of contentment. It became Charlene's pet the moment it joined the household. She'd called him Jimmy and fed him well and let him sleep on her bed. Li Yang thought that Jimmy had a hell of a lucky break. From the brink of death from starvation into Charlene's bed, in twenty-four easy steps: that's how many separated the two floors in their building. If a cat could get this lucky, why shouldn't he, Li Yang, also get lucky, even if it was in some minor way?
The broadcast was boring. It was a rerun of last Sunday's news and speeches and interviews. Charlene started bitching about that, but Harper said:
”They're repeating everything because a lot of people didn't catch it the first time around. And it's all information that bears repeating. What did you think you'd get, Charlene? Sunday cartoons?”
”Fuck off,” said Charlene and grabbed the cat and got up and stormed out of the room. Harper and Li Yang kept on watching the program, and were rewarded with a couple of minutes of real news near its very end. The trains were running again! A couple of airlines had resumed limited service with processor-chip free planes they'd pulled out of a junkyard! Over a million private mints had already been registered worldwide, ensuring a rapid spread of the new currency! A couple of supermarket chains were to reopen, with a blowout sale of all electric appliances at as little as 20% of their original price!
”Maybe we could catch a train down to Washington,” said Li Yang. Harper Lee's plan to move house down to Chesapeake Bay had been postponed, but not abandoned. They still wanted to set up a settlement in the New World from an Old World base that would offer them a better existence than a run-down apartment in New York.
”You kidding? You think they're running a passenger service?”
Li Yang shrugged and said nothing.
”I told you, I've got it all worked out,” said Harper. He got up and switched off the TV set and unplugged it.
”Get ready, Bruce,” he said. ”We've got a lot of walking to do today. We'll start by taking this baby to my man.”
He started coiling the TV cable, avoiding Li Yang's eyes.
A few moments later, they emerged into the street carrying Rose Fogerty's TV set. It was heavy as hell, and both of them were also carrying backpacks with twenty MREs in each. They had to stop many times to rest before they made it to a rickshaw rental near Central Park.
Harper's man turned out to be a big black dude with a shaven head and a gold earring. He examined the food they'd brought critically, complaining about the cheese tortellini. But he took it all along with the TV set, and wheeled out a rickshaw that had been converted into a cargo vehicle. The double seat in the front had been replaced by an open box made out of wood and wire fencing.
”The bottom's solid one inch of wood, bro,” he told Harper. ”An' I reinforced it with a couple two-by-fours. Sides of fencing for less weight, just make sure of the wire that's holding the top to the poles now and then. Almost-new chain, almost-new tires. An' I'm throwing in a hand pump.”
They shook hands and Harper told Li Yang to get into the carrier box in front. Then he sat down behind him, and pedaled them away.
They didn't go home. Harper drove the rickshaw down a series of streets Li Yang had never been to before. The city was peaceful and calm that Sunday; just a fortnight earlier, there hadn't been an hour without gunshots. They passed and were passed by several army vehicles: a truck, a jeep, a couple of personnel carriers with grim-looking soldiers manning the machine guns over the drivers' cabs.
Eventually they stopped in front of a rowhouse in Harlem. Harper told Li Yang to stay with the rickshaw and went in. He reemerged a little later with another black guy in tow.
”This is Bobby, the friend I told you about,” he told Li Yang. ”Bobby, meet Bruce. He's my benefactor.”
”How you keepin',” said Bobby, showing a gold front tooth. He was wearing a black tracksuit and black baseball cap and white sneakers. He looked like a wiseass, and Li Yang mistrusted him on sight.
”Why don't you guys come in for a while,” he said to Harper. ”I've got the gear ready for you.”
Harper shook his head, to Li Yang's relief.
”No,” he said. ”Can't leave our limousine unattended, and we got loads of stuff to do back home. And so do you, Bobby. Remember, we're gonna be leaving by President's Day at the latest. That's in five days. Is Olga coming with you?”
”Don't know, man,” Bobby said. ”One day she's coming, the next day she's staying. The bitch can't make up her mind. Either way I'll be there. When will you collect your gear?”
”Can you bring it with you on Monday? It ain't like it's a big load.”
”No way I'm walking around with two pieces. Wait here.”
Bobby went back into the house, leaving the door open. When he showed up again a minute later, one of his hands was hidden inside his tracksuit top and the other was clutching a small box. He walked up to Harper and thrust the box into his hand.
”Twenty cartridges,” he said. He pulled his other hand from under the tracksuit. It was holding a gun: a small snub-nosed revolver similar to Li Yang's.
”Thirty-eight Police Detective,” he said. ”Never used. No papers, so keep it somewhere safe, bro.”
”No problem,” said Harper. He put the gun and the box of ammunition in the inside pocket of his padded jacket. Then he and Bobby touched fists and Bobby gave Li Yang a curt nod and went back inside the house.
”He's coming with us?” asked Li Yang, the moment the door closed behind Bobby's back.
”Yeah,” said Harper.
”You didn't tell me. You didn't ask me, either.”
”Didn't I?” Harper looked genuinely shocked, but Li Yang was sure he was acting anyway. Harper was an insurance salesman, and slick as soap at times.
”No you didn't” said Li Yang. ”You don't think I have a say?”
”Now hang on,” said Harper. ”Don't talk to me like that. I was sure I'd talked to you about it. I'm sorry if I didn't. Maybe you're the one who can't remember. Anyway, if you don't want Bobby along, he won't be coming along. I'll think of something. Deal?”
”You'll tell Bobby he isn't coming with us? Just because I said so?”