124 The Laughing Seagull (1/2)
Both Jake and Li Yang were eager to find out more about Olga's plans. However, she sat down by the old man at the boat's stern the moment they cast off, and immediately engaged him in vigorous conversation. When Jake touched her soldier and indicated he'd like a bit of conversation too, she frowned and said:
”I'll talk to you guys later.”
Them she returned to talking with the old man, all smiles and charm.
Li Yang and Jake moved to the front of the shallow cabin and half sat, half lay down, keeping their heads low because of the swinging boom of the mainsail. The stern wind meant they could hear Olga's conversation with the old man - she was telling him about her life in Russia - but Olga couldn't hear them if they spoke softly.
”I don't trust her,” Li Yang said to Jake.
”Then why are you here? You wanted to go along.”
”I trust those people at Paradise Villas even less.”
”Yeah. There's something bogus about that setup,” said Jake. ”I have an idea. Let's ask the old guy what he knows about them.”
They waited for their moment, listening to Olga describe their journey from New York to the old man; they noted that she kept out the shooting at the crossroads. But apart from that, she was very forthright and honest. She told the old man they'd ended up with a group of people living next to the burnt-down Paradise Villas, and hadn't liked it there.
”What happened to those houses, why did they burn down?” Olga asked. ”Do you know?”
The old man was silent for a while. He bent down his head so that the peak of his baseball cap hid his face. After a moment he raised his head again to give Li Yang and Jake appraising looks, then turned to Olga and said:
”I sure do. I know what happened to Paradise Villas. They were set on fire. You want the whole story?”
”Of course,” said Olga.
”Yes, please tell us,” said Jake. The old man threw him a glance and said:
”You kids sure don't know much. Okay, I'll help out in that department. It was revenge for something that happened last year. See, one of those houses belonged to big shot in the music business. He was rich, and he was gay, and he made sure everyone knew that. He had a guy staying at his place, and they would roll into town in this silver Maserati and then walk around, groping each other and kissing in public and that kind of stuff. I guess they got a kick out of shocking other people. Anyway, one evening they were a little too successful and got called a few names by a couple of local boys that had been drinking.
”So, you know, after everything broke down including law and order, them boys collected some friends and paid a visit to Paradise Villas. Really stupid, because the new government cancelled all outstanding debts, right? But like I told you, they were none too bright.
”So they went there, and some people ended up getting shot and killed, including old Mr. Gibson who lived with his wife in the other house. He was a retired businessman, and a decent guy even though some people said he was some kind of accountant for a crime organization. But people always say that kind of thing when someone has more money than they do, it fills them with envy and it makes them hateful.
”Anyway, Mr. Gibson tried to intervene, and got shot for his pains and his house burned down along with the other. His wife must've died in the fire, no one's seen her since.”
”What happened to the two guys in the other house, the gay guys?” Olga asked.
The old man shrugged.
”What do you think? They was shot and killed too.”
”And the guys that did it? The local boys and their friends?”
The old man looked away and at the water, as if admiring the bay. He said:
”They're still around. I heard a couple are staying with those people that set up a trailer park behind Paradise Villas.”
”Oh fuck,” said Jake. Li Yang didn't say anything, but he fully agreed with Jake.
Olga was shaken a little too, but she recovered instantly. She said:
”They got away with it? What about the police? You don't have a sheriff?”
The old man laughed.
”Girl,” he said, ”Our entire police force consists of three people. The sheriff, his deputy, and someone we unkindly call Joe the Retard. He answers the phone and writes out parking tickets and he really has to think hard to get either done. But still, calling him that isn't kind.
”Anyway, all three including Joe have been drafted to help deal with troubles elsewhere. So after they left, we had a few killings, some arson, a few robberies - but it's nothing compared to what's been going on in other places.”
”We've heard things were bad in Baltimore,” said Jake.
”Yeah, things are pretty bad in Baltimore. You heard right.”
”What's going on there?”
”A lot of things, son. Snipers on the rooftops, Molotov cocktails, hundreds of dead every day... In the old days, with proper communications and helicopters and drones and cameras recording every single fucking thing it would have all been over in a couple of days. But these aren't the good old days. It's funny how they seem good now. Back then, everyone was bitching how bad things were all the time.”
They were all silent for a while. Then the old man said:
”And how was it in New York? We got next to no news down here.”
”It wasn't that bad,” said Jake. ”There were a couple of weeks back in January when things got a little out of control, but then the army moved in and within a week everything was as close to normal as it could get.”
”Yeah,” said the old man. ”We had a platoon of National Guard back in January. Stayed for a couple weeks, saw that everything was a-okay, and left, taking our entire police force with them. Couple of days later, people get killed and a couple of houses get burnt down. I'm not even sure it got reported.”
”You didn't report it?”