“Not exactly. But I eat lunch with the mayor at least once a week. I’m working on a project that involves the town government.”
“What do you do, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Glad you asked,” Jeff said. “I make things happen.”
She felt that knee press again, and she instinctively retreated, but then she pressed back. She was playing this thing by ear. On the outside, as they say in jazz. “Oh? What kind of things?”
He smiled and nodded. This man was actually massaging her knee with his knee. What an ick. “I move mountains,” he said. “As a matter of fact.”
———
Casey wasn’t used to drinking. There had been a time, oh yes. But lately he had stayed away from it. He wouldn’t even be downing these old fashioneds right now if he had anything to smoke, not that he could smoke anything right here, belly up to the piano, but he could go out in the parking lot, as he had done so often in his long, happy career as a melancholy musician. What a time to be without a stash. That was definitely a decision to reconsider.
Not that these old fashioneds were doing much good. He was still able to tie knots in the cherry stems inside his mouth; there they sat: four in a row, trophies on a napkin.
And he still hurt.
By now Casey was on a first-name basis with the cocktail waitress. He held up his hand and said, “Rose?”
———
“So,” the little lady said, “you’re telling me you operate a bulldozer?”
“Actually, moving mountains isn’t that hard,” Jeff told her. “You just put the right people together and tell them to do the right things. No. I don’t operate the machinery. I operate the people. That’s what I’m good at.”
“I can see that,” she said. “So how many mountains did you and your people move today?”
“To tell the truth, I am kind of celebrating today. Major break. The mountains won’t actually start moving till June, but things are falling into place.” He swiveled in his chair and called out, “Rose!” He snapped his fingers twice. “Two more!”
“What happens in June?” she asked. She was obviously getting excited. Jeff loved it when they got excited about his work. From there it would be an easy transfer. People skills is all it takes, no matter what you’re trying to do or who you’re trying to do it with. Yes. Jeff Cushman loved his job.
“Come June,” he said, “we’re going to change the face of Southern California forever. Have you ever heard of geothermal energy?”
“Like in Iceland?”
“Safest, cleanest, cheapest energy in the world,” Jeff told her. “Forget Iceland. Who wants to live in an igloo? Sweetheart, we got geothermal right here in Anacapa County. All it takes is someone to turn it on.”
“And that’s you.”
He nodded. “That would be me.”
Rose set their drinks before them, and Jeff said, “Lengthen my tab, Rosie.” He lifted his Dewars and saluted Diana. “To Hope Springs Estates.”
“Hope Springs Estates?”
“You got it.”
“You mean as in Hope Springs, that historic hotel up in the Tecolote Valley?”
“You know the place?”
“I’ve heard of it. Belongs to the Hope family?”
“What’s left of them. The head of the family bought the farm in a car accident on New Year’s Eve, leaving the land deal in a mess. He was ready to sell the whole mountainside over to my company, and now the place is owned by his sisters, a couple of crazy old ladies who live there with a tribe of hippies. They don’t want to sell.”
“So you’re out of luck?”
“Only temporarily. Actually, Joel Hope’s death was a stroke of luck for our side. He was driving a hard bargain, asking for a shitload of cash, which SoCal Development agreed to pay him. Now we’re going to get that mountainside for a song.”
“But if the sisters don’t want to sell—”
“They’ll sell. They’ll have to.”
“What do you mean, have to?”
“Honey, have you ever heard of a little thing called eminent domain?”
Diana shook her head.
Jeff lit a cigarette and took his time. “Eminent domain means a government—local, county, or state—can seize private property for the public good, so long as they compensate the owners fairly. Which is what Anacapa County is going to do. They’ll basically buy that mountainside dirt cheap and sell it to SoCal Development for a profit. It’s a win-win-win for everybody. Those old gals will be paid fairly, the county will make money on the sale, and SoCal will change the face of Southern California forever. Look out, babe, the eighties are going to be known as the Geothermal Decade.”
“Thanks to you,” she said. She was sparkling. God, this was great. Jeff could feel a hard-on coming on fast.
“I’m just playing my part, like anybody else. The guy that operates the bulldozer? He’s just as important as I am, really.”
“But you get paid more.” She reached across the table and ran her knuckles down his lapel. “Right?”
“I take bigger risks.”
Diana raised her rum and Coke and said, “Here’s to you.”
———
“You know, Warren,” Casey said, “the sad part is Diana and I never got to really enjoy our romance. I mean, we slept together once, we’ve lived together, and we’ve worked together, and we’ve laughed together and sung together and taken baths together and walks together, and we came here together, tonight, for our first date. But I was such a dumbshit, wasting all that time when I should have been showing her how I felt, ’cause if I’d been honest with her and with myself, she’d be sitting right here with me, not off in some dark corner flirting with a rich man in an expensive jacket instead of some goofball in a faded Madras. Save my seat. I gotta pee.”
———
“I don’t get it,” Diana said. “Eminent domain. Who determines what’s fair compensation when the county grabs their land?”
“Sweetheart, they’ll get a cool million for that land. That price has been approved by the Board of Realtors, and if the sisters take us to court, the judge has also pre-approved the price. I got that worked out today, which is why I’m feeling festive. Besides, a million dollars is a lot of money, even to a couple of filthy rich ladies.”
“But what about the other people who live there? The tribe of hippies, you called them.”
“Well, they’ll either land on their feet or on the street. Don’t worry about them. People like that can always find a place to crash.”
Diana felt lucky that the room was dark enough to hide the flush of rage she felt burning in her face. “I still can’t help feeling sorry for those Hope sisters. Hope Springs has been in their family for almost a hundred years. Probably. I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Believe me, sweetheart, they’ll be better off. They think they’re going to turn that old firetrap into a first-class hotel. Well, good luck with that. Those two don’t know the first thing about the hotel business. We’ve got them jumping through so many hoops, come June they’ll be delighted to take the money and run.”
“Hoops.”
“Licenses, permits, inspections, the whole nine yards. Nothing there is up to code. Another thing, if it gets down to playing hardball. We happen to know they’re growing pot up there. We’ve got a guy out on bail who was picked up for selling pot on the street. He’s ready to lead the law to their crop, in exchange for having the charges dropped.” Jeff Cushman grinned and ground out his cigarette. “We’ve got those ladies nailed. If they cooperate with the city, the county, the state, and SoCal Development, everybody wins. If they don’t, they’re looking at jail time.”
“Mr. Cushman, you—”
“Jeff.”
“Jeff, you think of everything. I’m impressed.”
“Well, that’s my job. Say, you know what, Diane?”
“Diana.”
“Diana, right. You know what? I know this sounds like a
line or something, but it’s not. You want to see a model of the property? You want to see the plans?” He pressed his mustache against his upper lip and waited.
Diana let him wait, watched him twitch. She took her knee away from his and said, “What do you have in mind?”
“My room. Suite, actually. My office. Upstairs. I mean I’ve got like this humongous architect’s model of the development. And a scrapbook. Aerial photos. It’s pretty interesting stuff, actually. I mean it’s the future of Southern California, right here in Anacapa County, of all places. So. What do you say?”
Diana nodded slowly and forced a small smile onto her lips without looking him in the eye. Her mind was made up, but she gave him a minute to sweat before she looked at him, laid a hand on his, and said, “Wait here. I have to get my purse.”
She rose and weaved her way among the tables across the room to the piano. Casey’s stool was empty, and Warren told her that Casey had gone to the men’s room. She counted the tied cherry stems lined up on a cocktail napkin in front of Casey’s stool and said, “Did he drink all of those? Good lord, he sure knows how to hold his liquor.”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Warren said.
“Oh. Oh God. You’ve got to get him sober, Warren. I’m going to need him in a little while.”
She went to the bar and asked Rose to get ready to give Casey a message.
———
“There it is,” Jeff Cushman said. “The face of tomorrow. Is that beautiful or what?”
Spread out on a surface the size of a Ping-Pong table was a miniature mountainside covered with toy condos, streets, automobiles, street lamps, a school, three churches, a shopping mall, two gas stations, three convenience stores, and a couple of parks with playgrounds.
The setup reminded Diana of the electric train set her father and brother had built in their basement in Minneapolis when she was a little girl, perfect in every detail and utterly lifeless except for the stupid train that went around and around, all day long.
It also reminded her of the mountainside she now called home. The contours were all there, and so was the road winding up from the town of Tecalote, winding up the canyon until it reached the hotel. And there was the hotel: a perfect miniature, the size of a pack of cigarettes. And across the road from it, a small building the size of a matchbox. The hot springs bathhouse.
Except for these details, though, this was not the mountainside Diana knew and loved. Gone was the forest. In fact, on closer inspection, the road was no longer the road. It was a city street, a main artery, a four-lane with crosswalks and stoplights. And something else was missing: the sulfur stream was gone.
Diana leaned over the table and plucked the hotel off the landscape and examined it closely. The shingles, the shutters, the verandah, the front steps, the fire escape around back, the long dormitory on the third floor. Suddenly Diana felt homesick.
“So this is where the hippies live?” she asked. Stay cool, she told herself. We’re still on his territory. Sound pleased. Sound impressed.
“For now.”
“Have they agreed to leave and make way for the face of tomorrow?”
“They don’t even know about it.”
“You haven’t told them you plan to convert their home and their livelihood into a housing development?”
“We don’t dare tell them, babe. It would ruin the surprise. It’s all going to happen so fast they won’t know what hit them.”
“Hmm.”
“Sweetheart, we can’t always wait for people to agree. These back-to-the-land types are notoriously slow about things like that.”
“So how will you persuade them to leave before June, so you can break ground?”
She felt his hand caressing the back of her neck. Felt his fingers squeeze. “We have ways,” he said.
“Oh? You don’t really have much time, do you?”
“It won’t take long,” he said. He chuckled. “Hey, we’ve pretty much jinxed their plans to open a hot springs resort hotel. The health department’s agreed to shut down their bath house. The County Road Department is already scheduled to repave the only road to the place, starting in May. That’ll make their access in and out inconvenient for everybody. If that doesn’t work, we’ll bring out the air force.”
“The air force?”
“Only if the present residents don’t cooperate.” Jeff pointed to a canyon north of the hotel, then waved his fingers all over the side on the mountain. “If they don’t agree to move and make way for construction, we have the authority to spray the entire hillside with malathion. People like that hate malathion. Just hate it. They’re paranoid about malathion.”
“Malathion.”
“Yup.”
“As in medfly.”
“You got it. The vicious Mediterranean fruit fly.”
“Are you telling me there are medflies on this hillside?” Diana demanded. Stay cool.
“Looks that way. Yesterday the county health inspector captured a yellow insect on the premises that looked suspicious. We’re sending it to Cal Poly to be identified. You can never be too careful, especially in an agricultural county. I’ve got friends in the Ag Department at Cal Poly, and they owe me a favor or two. No big deal. Medfly it is.”
“And when does this aerial assault begin?” Diana asked.
“Second week in May, if the Hope sisters and their band of bohemians aren’t out of there by then.” Jeff moved behind her and began massaging her shoulders. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions, you know that? I like that you’re interested in my work, but maybe I could interest you in something a little more fun.”
Diana took another look at the hotel in her hand. She brought it to her mouth and kissed it gently, then set it back in its place on the miniature mountainside. “Mr. Cushman, sir,” she said softly, “I want to thank you for sharing all this with me.”
“Like I say, I have a lot more to share with you.” His hands moved down to her waist. She felt his fingers urging her backwards against his body and then she felt the boner pressing against her butt.
Gross. She lifted his fingers away from her waist and stepped to the side, turned, smiled at him, and took a deep breath. Then said, “I think it’s time for me to call Casey and let him know the plans have changed.” She made her way to the bedside phone, sat down, and lifted the receiver. “May I?” she said.
“Be my guest,” Jeff said. “Does he have a ride home? Or is he going home with Twinklefingers?”
When she got through to the cocktail lounge she asked for Rose and said, “It’s time to let Casey know he’s on his own. And Rose? Could you send up a bottle of Maison Deutz to room 1026?”
She hung up and said, “I hope you don’t mind.”
That grin, that shit-eating grin. He didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.
———
Jeff sat down beside her on the bed and put his arm around her waist. He felt her stiffen. Then with his other hand around front, he zeroed in for the feel he’d been looking forward to all evening. This was going to be great. If she backed away, she could only go back onto the bed, and he’d be on top of her, and before she could stop him she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. Jeff knew her type: she was as ready as he was.
There was a knock on the door, and Diana pushed Jeff away, singing, “Room service!”
“Shit.” Okay. This will slow it down, he thought, and maybe that’s good. We got all night.
He stood up and walked to the door and opened it. There was the bozo in the Madras sport coat, grinning and carrying a tray with three glasses and a bottle of Champagne in an ice bucket. Three glasses?
“What are you doing here?” Jeff asked.
“I believe somebody called and requested a brut?”
“Is that Casey?” Diana called from inside the room. “Come on in, sweetie. Join us!”
“Wait a minute, I’ll take that,” Jeff said, but the bozo walked right past him, into the room. “You can set that on the desk
over there,” Jeff told him. “Fine. Now, if you don’t mind…”
Diana and Casey hugged. They kissed. Like a real kiss, okay? Okay, Jeff thought. Be patient. They’re friends, and she owes him one for the change of plans. But what is it with good-looking women and fags?
“Casey, let me show you something,” Diana said. She led him to the model of Hope Springs Estates and picked up the hotel, the one she’d been fondling, and handed it to him. “Look familiar?”
Talk about looking familiar. Jeff took a closer look at the fag who was bird-dogging him. “I’ve seen you before,” he said.
The two of them were holding hands now. Diana said, “Casey, this is Jeff Cushman, a mover of mountains. He works for SoCal development. Jeff, this is Casey.”
“I’ve seen you before,” Jeff repeated. “Yesterday. Right there.” He pushed past them and pointed to a spot on the model. “Right where the road goes over the stream.”
“I meant to ask you about that, Jeff,” Diana said. “What happened to the stream on this model? How come there’s no water in this canyon?”
“All that water’s going to go underground, piped around where it can do the most good,” Jeff said. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want the stream above ground. That water stinks to high heaven. Right, big guy? You were there yesterday. You should know.”
Casey nodded. He was not smiling anymore. He took a long look at the model and placed the hotel building back exactly in place. He said, “You were one of those guys surveying the road yesterday.”
“I know what I was doing,” Jeff said. “What were you doing, is what I want to know.”
“I was taking a walk. It was my day off. I was sorting out my life. I was singing ‘Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.’”
Diana covered her face. She was laughing. Bitch.
“Okay, I get the picture,” Jeff said. “Casey, right? I’ve heard about you. The manager out there at Hope Springs. Everybody tells me you’re a pain in the ass. Nobody told me you were a homosexual.”
“Imagine that,” Casey said.
“Of course I don’t really care one way or the other if you’re a homosexual,” Jeff said.
“That’s very broadminded of you.”
Hot Springs Eternal Page 13
