"I see," he said, then stopped. He knew he'd already been nosing around the hook, and for longer than just this past week; was he now on the verge of also taking the line and sinker? Well, if he was, then so be it. Realistically, at his age there might not be enough time left to permit the luxury of procrastination; he should either do it or get off the pot. What was the worst that could happen? "The truth is," he started, "I'm getting used to having you around, and I like having you around." He looked down at his plate and cleared his throat. "I've always been fond of you, and a lot more so lately. I hope you'll stay as long as you like."
"Really? You really mean that?" she said, brightening. He nodded. "Well okay then! But tell you what, let's get a couple things straight before we go any further. I told you my apartment's tolerable now, so don't be shy about kickin' me out for a while if you need to. I'm not itchin' to move in with you for good, not right now anyway. This is sorta like a little vacation for me, that's all, which is somethin' I don't often get. And I always need money, you know that. And for the record, I've mostly been hangin' around here because I think I'm fallin' for you too. So there you go!" she concluded, and rose to clear the dishes.
So, now he'd gone and done it. He felt his stomach drop, but he wasn't sure if it was from giddiness or dismay. Oddly enough, he thought it might be both, not unlike the mixed emotions he recalled experiencing while watching the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York City on live TV years ago. He'd since read somewhere that this was not an atypical reaction to certain kinds of disasters. Was this then a disaster in the making? He guessed time would tell.
He noted that she hadn't said anything about her arm, which raised a small flag, but maybe that was just an overly suspicious artifact of his new detective persona. But even if she wasn't yet telling him the whole truth, he decided that if she was going to be an integral part of his life from here on, then he should proceed with his plan and be honest and come clean with her. If you want to have a good neighbor, you have to be a good neighbor, right? He probably didn't have a choice anyway, practically speaking - which went for the Captain, too, of course.
"Well, it's good you're not giving up your apartment just yet, because I may not be in this house much longer." In response to her not unexpected look of concerned surprise, he continued, "I have a story to tell you, but the Captain also needs to hear it, and it would be easier to tell it once. So I'm going to go give him a call. If he's available later, what time would be good for you?"
"Uh huh. Okay, I'll try to be patient. Any time at all is fine with me, I'm not goin' back to the shop today. I'd only be open a couple more hours or so anyway, and you and I both know I probably won't be missin' out on much."
Ketch went out onto the deck to make his call, and to pick up his beer bottles; if he forgot about them and left them there, especially overnight God forbid, his deck could turn into Roach City. He was able to placate the somewhat irate Captain by promising to explain absolutely everything to him later and offering to come to him at the boatyard; and also by promising to bring shrimp, hush puppies, and beer.
"He's out and about right now, so we'll bring supper down to the Minnow later," he called as he reentered the house. "Kari?"
"In here," she called back from his bedroom. When he entered the darkened room and saw her lying naked and smiling at him on the bed, all he could do was smile back. "I should have known," he said.
"I just figured we should do somethin' useful while we're waitin'. And then you can take a nap after, I bet you could use one." She patted the mattress. "Come on now, time's a-wastin'!"
~ ~ ~
14. Forgoing unnecessary chatter while at sea was considered a virtue.
But though they'd be on a boat, it would remain docked. The Captain started pawing through the bags as soon as Ketch and Kari arrived with the dog in tow. "Dirty Dick's hush puppies - nothin' finer!" he exclaimed, popping one into his mouth. "Srimp's good too. And crab pops? I must a died and gone to heaven!" The dog moved closer to him and sat and wagged.
"Not so loud, we didn't bring enough for everyone in the boatyard," Ketch said while Kari set places for them at the Captain's table. "And be sure to save a few of those hush puppies for Jack," Kari added, "we got more than enough."
The Captain tossed one to the dog, who caught it in the air. "And I see you brought the right beer. You, sir, are almost forgiven - almost!"
After Ketch opened the bottle of wine he'd brought, they all sat down and started to dig in. The sun hadn't quite started to drop yet, and the bugs weren't bad and it wasn't unbearably hot, and the drinks were cold. Pleasantly muted music wafted across the still water from one of the houseboats. The setting was peaceful, certainly more so than the new Dirty Dick's would have been if they'd decided to eat there; though their food was excellent as always, it was crowded and noisy and it lacked the old-timey atmosphere Ketch had appreciated at their previous location. He still liked to eat there occasionally, but he had to be in the mood for it. A fine, quiet evening like this at the old boatyard was eminently preferable to him most of the time. Too bad the place was doomed.
"God, I do love this wine!" Kari said to him. "You've got yourself into some trouble with this, mister. I don't think I can drink that old stuff anymore."
"Oh, so you're going to turn high-maintenance on me now, are you?"
"Hey, I'm not that high-maintenance! And even if I get to be, you know I'm worth it!" she declared with a suggestive smirk.
"So y'all are with this damn yankee now? I knew it," the Captain said. "Ketch, you dawg! But hey, get a room, I got bidness with ole Lucy here," he admonished. "For starters, Mister Storm Ketchum, tell me if you please what in holy hell were y'all doin' out in the middle a the dang ocean yesterday in that bathtub toy a yours? You like to worried me half to death!"
"What?" Kari exploded, almost choking on a hush puppy. "How do you know about that? I didn't know." She turned to look at Ketch. "I thought you were cleanin' your boat!" Her face started to color. "What exactly did you do with that tank I gave you?"
"All in good time," Ketch said, raising his hands to forestall further inquiries. "It's a long story, and it would be better if I started at the beginning."
And so he finally did, starting with the series of letters he'd received from Ingram offering to purchase Port Starbird for a barely acceptable price. He told how they'd progressively escalated in tone, culminating in the ultimatum that threatened imminent seizure via eminent domain at an even lower price.
"So now he's just gonna take it? How can he do that?" Kari asked in disbelief.
"I told you," the Captain said. "Did you talk to a lawyer?"
Ketch tried to give a succinct explanation (which wasn't easy) of how eminent domain worked and how it was being abused these days in North Carolina and elsewhere, and why Ingram thought he could get away with what he was doing. "And no, I haven't talked to a lawyer. I've done my homework, and I think it would be a waste of time and money to hire a lawyer to tell me what I already know. There are ways I might be able to delay him for a while, but I don't believe I can legally stop him - short of some extraordinary event like finding an ancient burial ground or some unique organism that would become extinct. Though it's a little strange," he mused, "I ran into him after our charter on Monday, and he offered me one more week to sell, even though I'd missed his deadline. I think it was because he'd save money and avoid legal hassles that way, that's all. It certainly wasn't because he's a nice guy, I can tell you that, the smug bastard."
"Well then, why don't you just sell out like everybody else?" the Captain asked. "Sounds like you'd get more money that way at least."
"Because I refuse to, that's why. You know how I feel about this island, and this town. I'm against that man and everything he stands for, and there's no way in hell I will ever cooperate with the likes of him." Ketch paused and then sheepishly added, "Besides, I doubt that offer still holds. I insulted him and made him pretty angry."
"Down at
Oden's, this was? No wonder you was off your feed on the way back."
"Yes, and again just this morning - which Kari already knows something about. But I'll get to that soon."
"Why didn't you tell us about all this before?" she asked.
"Oh, he told me some of it early on," the Captain said, "but he's been holdin' out on me ever since. You, he ain't been close with that long - but when me and him's been good friends like we have, that kinda ticks me off, I have to say."
"Well, I'm sorry, I really am," Ketch apologized. "I figured it was my problem, and there was nothing anyone else could do to help. I think I was a little depressed about it too, and I didn't want to bother you with all that. But I should have told you."
"Damn right," the Captain said. "Even if we can't do squat about it, we're your friends. Now tell me 'bout them floats you got at the house. If you ain't gonna be livin' there, why in hell you wanna spend all that money'n do all that work?"
"They weren't cheap, but they're one of the cheaper options, and it's wasn't as much money as you think. Plus the company doesn't charge for delivery in North Carolina," Ketch added weakly. Well, here we go, he thought - here's where they'll probably start beating him over the head with something in earnest. "The protests and petitions of the environmentalists and preservationists didn't accomplish anything, as you know," he continued, "and the politicians in this state don't seem to be motivated to do anything about eminent domain abuses right now. I know I can't stop Ingram's project either, but I thought of a way I could help bring more attention to those issues, maybe even on a national scale, and the more people become aware of these things, the more likely it might be that something will be eventually be done about them. So..." he took a deep breath. "I'm converting Port Starbird into a floating house. I'm going to float it out into the sound and anchor it there, I'm going to tell the media why I did it, and I'm going to embarrass crooks like Ingram and the politicians they have in their pockets. I hope," he concluded, and then braced himself.
To his great surprise, the Captain let out a great whoop. "What the hell! Are you kiddin' me? Oh, that's rich!" he howled. "I love it!"
"Huh!" Kari said with a shell-shocked look on her face. After a bit she commented, "Well, I think it's kinda crazy - okay, maybe just extreme, not crazy - no, way extreme - but I guess it might could work. It sure would get you some attention anyway. But how can you do that? If you do it before you lose the house, wouldn't you get less money, and if you do it after, wouldn't you be stealin' somebody else's property?"
"I'll do it right after the eminent domain settlement is directly deposited in my bank account. I suppose it won't be legal, but Ingram might not file a complaint. It would make him look even worse in the public eye, and he's only going to demolish it anyway, so I'll actually be saving him money by moving it off my lot. That's the one part of this whole thing I don't especially like."
"The one part?" the Captain snorted. "That's the only part you don't like?" he got out before dissolving into a series of belly laughs. When he could breathe again, he said, "I'm sorry, I know this mess ain't really all that funny, but I couldn't help it, it just tickled me." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at his eyes. "Okay, so here's a thought - even if Ingram and the cops don't bother you, what are y'all gonna do if the Coast Guard gets after you? What if they end up makin' you pay to tow it somewhere and scrap it?"
"I don't know, I haven't thought much about that yet. But even if that happened, the publicity might be worth it. I know I'm not wealthy, but I'm getting old, and you can't take it with you."
"You're not that old," Kari said. "Who knows, you might live another fifty years."
"Well, I'd probably still have some savings left, plus my pension and Social Security later on. And if they wait long enough to act, maybe I can claim squatter's rights and gain adverse possession of whatever property I'm floating over. I read about that, too. Or maybe I could find a boatyard or marina somewhere that would take me."
"I guess you really did do some homework. You sound like a dang lawyer," the Captain said.
"Okay, so what about the secret mission you went on in your boat?" Kari asked. "I think it's time we heard what that was all about."
"All right, but you might not like this part very much," Ketch said, meaning specifically three parts, actually - the part about him following her old boyfriend to Roanoke, the part about Mick and Mario illegally dumping the drums, and the part about him diving alone. He managed to get through it all with minimal interruptions, mainly because he insisted on brooking none this time until he was done.
"So, there's that part of the story," he finished. "All this talking is parching my throat," he said, and took a break to pay some attention to the beer he'd been neglecting.
"I can't believe you went divin' like that all by yourself," Kari said, shaking her head. "That was really dangerous. You know that, right? You better not ever do it again, I'll tell you that, or me and you are gonna have a serious problem. I can't believe you did that," she repeated.
"I know," Ketch said, "and again, I'm sorry. I should have asked for your help. Both of you."
"Well, at least you had enough sense to give me your position just in case," the Captain said. "But still... Christ, man, you could a got seriously hurt out there all by your lonesome - and maybe if those two scallywags had caught on to you too."
"I wish I could say I also can't believe Mick did all that, but I'm not real surprised," Kari said. In an apparent attempt to make amends for her recent sternness, she added in as deep a baritone as she could manage, "He's a sneaky little shit, just like you."
"The dean in Animal House," Ketch said with a relieved smile. "Yes, I guess I am. And again, I apologize for that."
Kari gave him a quick smile back, then got serious again. "So what does all this have to do with your house?" she asked. "It seems like a totally separate thing."
"Well," Ketch said, "I guess that brings us to what happened at HatterasMann Realty this morning. Which is the final part of this story, I promise."
"I recall you said somethin' 'bout pissin' Ingram off this mornin'," the Captain said. "What happened, y'all go down to his place? How come?"
"Well, it turned out there is a connection between my house and that toxic waste business. I found out Bob Ingram now runs Tibbleson Construction, because it was his wife's business. The second one. So that makes Ingram criminally liable for what Mick and Mario did. I researched that as well. If I report the illegal dumping to the Coast Guard and the EPA, Ingram could be heavily fined, and possibly jailed, for felonies under the Clean Water Act and the Ocean Dumping Act, and maybe the Hazardous Materials Transportation Act."
"That's interestin'. And you have pictures..." the Captain mused. "Wait, don't tell me, lemme guess - you tried to put the squeeze on the man to save your house, and he didn't react real well to that. Am I right?" Ketch didn't have to verbally corroborate the Captain's theory; that was basically it in a nutshell, and a single rueful nod sufficed.
"He sure didn't," Kari said. "I saw Joette after, she works there, and she said Ingram was hollerin' and throwin' stuff at Ketch at the end of it."
"Throwin' things? No shit!" the Captain chuckled. "I gotta tell ya, y'all sure know how to get on the right side a folks. You ought to run for somethin'!", he added before succumbing to another series of convulsions. "Oh lordy, I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes again. "I just can't help it. I wish I could a seen that!"
Ketch stood. "I need a break," he said. On his way back from the head, he glanced around the darkening boatyard and noticed Mario on the deck of his trawler a few slips over. When he returned to his seat at the table, said scallywag was coincidentally the current topic of conversation.
"I gotta tell ya, I don't really know Mick, can't hardly remember what he looks like even," the Captain was saying. "But I'm real disappointed with Mario."
"I am, too," Ketch said. "But I still like him anyway, odd as that may seem. I decided I'm not going to mention ei
ther of their names when I report the dumping to the authorities - which I'm going to do anonymously, by the way - and not just because he offered to help with the house. He's just trying to get by, and I only care about netting Tibbleson and Ingram. If they figure out on their own that it was Mick and Mario and they end up being prosecuted, I can't help that, but it won't be because I ratted on them. So I'd appreciate it if you'd both refrain from mentioning any of this to Mario."
Kari and the Captain promised they wouldn't. "What about the other part, though, losin' the house? It'll probably get around anyways," the Captain asked.
"I don't care anymore who knows about that," Ketch replied. "Everyone will know when it's floating out in the sound. But I'm not going through all this storytelling again. I'm not like you," he said, directing this remark to the Captain, "I find it exhausting. So if someone else wants to tell it, okay, and do it when I'm not around."
Exhausting, yes - but also cathartic, Ketch realized. Finally telling his story to Kari and the Captain hadn't changed anything, as he'd known it wouldn't; but he was gratified to know he had their empathy and their support, and he felt like a great weight had been lifted from him. The difference between these folks and a therapist was, these people cared about him, and that was a world of difference to him. Also, they were cheaper. He wished he'd done this sooner.
He wondered how things might have turned out if he'd had friends like these a few years earlier - when, he knew now, he'd been in real danger of running completely off the rails. The divorce, still a source of angst though many years had passed; the estrangement from his son; the loss of his parents and his dog, all in the same year; his career, such as it was...
He'd gotten hired as a researcher at a pharmaceutical company after the Ph.D., and had gradually moved away from the lab and into clinical data analysis as he'd developed his computer skills, initially as a hobby, along with that then-emerging technology - and despite his value to the company (though admittedly self-perceived), he along with a goodly number of the other employees had been overworked and underpaid, and basically treated like dirt in many respects by the soulless corporate machine. There'd been some casual friends, but he'd been essentially alone at that time and just watching the wheels go round and round, as John Lennon had put it; he'd felt like a powerless bystander just growing a little older every day as things around him kept changing for the worse, if they changed at all - and there came a point when he just hadn't been able to stand it all anymore.
Port Starbird (Storm Ketchum Adventures) Page 17
