'So we get married as well, do we?' she whispered. I mean you did mention it in passing just now.'
'Yes, sure, sure. But we'd better not have any kids, Katy. The gang business being risky.'
Her eyes shone happily towards him. 'It was sure a funny proposal,' she said. 'But I accept. I've loved you ever since I saw you bite through that pack of cards.'
'There was no aces and no kings,' he said modestly. 'But it was my own teeth. So we join the gang then?'
'Oh sure, it sounds fine. But... but what do they calculate to steal? I mean things are guarded. You couldn't even walk out of here with a piece of their free bread without the alarm going off.'
Lou nodded his heavy head. 'Okay, okay. You're right Katy. But it's going to be all scheduled see. Every detail. And these guys figure that nobody is going to suspect a gang of old folks to be operating the crimes. You get it?'
'What if the cops get us?' said Katy. 'They'll put me in a women's prison and you in a men's prison. It's no use being married if we're in different prisons, now is it? What's the sense of that?'
'We don't get caught, that's all,' said Lou decisively. 'If we do we say we thought it was for charity.' Thought lay thickly on his brow. 'For myself, Katy, I'd like to do it. I been missing the
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excitement these past few years. After what I've done. You know I've been in theatres in every state and in Mexico and Cuba. I was the strong man of Havana before Fidel Castro had any chance of growing a beard. I guess I'd like to take a final fling.'
She laid her hand on his again and looked at him intensely. 'Right, let's do it. Let's join,' she said. 'Who knows, maybe we can steal a few things for our new home.'
'Guns,' said Molly as she led Ari up the winding stairs of Sunny Gables Hotel. 'Sure I got guns. When I dug them up on the beach I thought maybe I ought to tell the police, but then I thought, maybe not. I figured they might come in useful someday, like if Fidel Castro invaded the United States. So I stored them.'
She opened the door of her room and felt a small blush in the gloom of the passage. 'No man has ever been in this room, Ari. Not since Melford died.'
'I'll respect that, Molly,' said the Greek. 'I only want to view the guns.'
'So you shall.' She worked the lock with some difficulty and then let the door creak open. Ari looked in. Right opposite on a sideboard against the wall was a Russian one-man rocket firer.
Dumbstruck, Ari stepped cautiously in the room. 'I keep that one there for decoration,' said Molly blithely. 'I think it's just cute. The others are in the bathroom.'
Modestly she led Ari through the tight living room, pausing to indicate a dim photograph. 'That was Melford with the Elks,' she whispered. 'There, that's him, smiling. He was a great Elk, Melford, and he enjoyed smiling. But even Elks die.'
'It's a common happening,' agreed Ari. 'Myself I try to avoid the matter. I think maybe I'll get overlooked and I'll be around for ever. But I guess that won't happen.'
'You don't get luck like that,' agreed Molly seriously. 'Not on South Miami Beach. Somebody goes every day. Here's the guns.'
She opened the bathroom door and Ari's eyes bulged. Ranged around the walls was a complete armoury, pistols, short rifles,
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grenades, sub-machine guns and a flame thrower displayed over the toilet cistern. 'Jeez,' muttered Ari. 'Jeez.'
'Melford mounted them. Before he died of course. He was with me when I found them buried on the South Beach. Melford thought they must be something to do with all the Cubans we have down here. They're into guns, the Cubans you know, I found them with my detector. Gee, it was like the Fifth Symphony when I got this lot on the earphones. They were only just under the sand in a kind of box. Melford said it had Soviet writing on the side.'
'And you ... you and Melford,' said Ari still staring, 'just dug them up and brought them here?'
'Just like that,' she said proudly. 'We had a car then and we loaded them in and unloaded after dark.'
Ari gingerly touched the butt of one of the pistols. 'Ammunition,' he muttered. 'How about ammunition?'
'There's no ammunition,' she shrugged. 'We didn't find any. Except one little itsy-bitsy bullet and that's right over here. Above the washbasin. I hide it among my lipsticks. Don't you think that's clever, Ari?'
'A stroke of genius,' nodded Ari, still looking disbelievingly at all the guns, 'hiding the bullet. But no ammunition?'
'Well we figured, Melford and me, that if there was ever any complications concerning our guns we could always say there was no ammunition so there was no danger, was there?'
'They're Russian guns, and Russian ammunition is hard to come by,' admitted Ari. 'You don't see a lot of it around.' He reached up and brought down the pistol he had touched. It felt ugly in his hand, heavy and menacing. 'Not a pretty baby,' he said. 'But just what we need.'
'Who's we?' inquired Molly without suspicion. She was another who could not easily be surprised. 'Why do you want the guns, Ari?'
Ari knew he might as well tell her. He had thought of making some excuse about a hunting trip but since there was no ammunition he could hardly expect * Molly to believe that. 'We've got a gang,' he said looking straight at her.
'Gee, how nice!' she said warmly, her hands clasping. 'Are you going to rob people?'
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'That's the general idea,' he nodded. 'But we don't want nobody getting Kurt, and especially the members of the gang. It's just a kind of hobby. Something to amuse a few folks around here.'
'Well,' she said decisively, 'if you have my guns, / want to be a member of the gang. I'm getting bored with treasure hunting anyway.' She put out her hand and took the pistol from him. Suddenly she whirled on him, thrust her legs apart, and, crouching, jabbed the muzzle at him. 'Okay buster,' she said, trying for a harsh deep voice. 'Hand over the goodies.'
Ari swallowed uneasily. The aperture of the weapon was pointing at his nose. 'Not the nose please, Molly,' he said, 'that's an easy target.' Cautiously he took the gun from her. I mean, you're sure it's not loaded?'
'No, sir,' she assured him. 'My Melford checked every single one. But he said the grenades work okay. You just have to pull the pin out. See, like ...'
Ari just beat her to the pin. 'No, leave it where it is, Molly. You should just not do anything like that.'
Prudently he led the old lady from the bathroom. He still had the gun. He sat down, staring at it thoughtfully. 'And you want to join?' he asked, his old eyes rising.
'I've got to join,' she said triumphantly. I insist No Molly, no hardware.'
T need to make a call,' said Ari. 'You don't have a phone, do you?'
To his surprise she did, housed beneath a knitted tea cosy on the sideboard. He pushed the Russian rocket firer gently away and dialled the number. 'Boss,' he said, when Loose Bruce had answered, 'she's got the guns. Enough for an army. All clean. Yes, just great ain't it. There's two other items of news. The first is she wants to join. If she don't we don't get the munitions. Sure ... sure ... she's fit. She walks miles on the beach every day and she's watched Kojak because she does the cop's crouch with a pistol. So I guess she'll be fine.'
'Sure ... sure. Okay, I'll tell her. What's that? Oh yeah, the other items of news. We've got everything here, everything but a ballistic missile, it seems to me. But there's a difficulty. It's all Ruskie stuff meant for Castro. It was buried in the beach some-
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where. Everything. But the only ammo is one bullet. Yeah, that's right. You got it. One. I guess we'll have to conserve our ammunition.'
Loose Bruce looked carefully along the row of lined, expectant faces. They sat on the chairs and on the bed in Ari's room at Sunny Gables Hotel, Ari himself squatting on his light canvas chair. Ossie arranged himself awkwardly on the table behind Bruce. Because he had no job and little cash Ossie had now moved into a small room at the hotel, he and Bruce having shone twin smiles at Mrs Nissenbaum who melted and agreed to take the rent at the end of the month.
&
nbsp; Outside it was a sullen day. Clouds lay heavily on the sea and the air was warm as soup. The ancient air conditioning box fitted to Ari's window heaved and grunted as if it were containing some captive animal.
Bruce looked along the eager faces. Ossie's eyes followed his track. What they saw was not encouraging and yet, ironically, just what they wanted. This collection of has-beens with their bright eyes and old limbs looked like anything but a gang intent on criminal pursuits.
Ari the Greek sat on his beach chair trying to look strong, his prow of a nose pushed out, his eyes steady, his muscles below his sweatshirt flexed, ready for action. Next to him sat Molly Mandy who, for effect, had brought with her the detector with which she scoured the beach. She held the upright lightly with one hand, like a soldier leaning on a rifle. Sidewalk Joe fingered his bootlace tie and narrowed his New York eyes.
Lou the Barbender was next, the large face spread like a map, intent on every word which had been said. He kept inserting short encouraging remarks into the discussion. 'My strength is still my own.' I can break in anywhere.' I can handle three cops at once.'
Next to him, her delicate hand in his heavy paw, sat K-K-K-Katy, her fine legs crossed, so excellent that both Bruce and Ossie found their eyes continually drawn that way. If ever I get to go dating a sixty-year-old woman, Bruce thought, that's the one I'm going to date.
'It's important,' Bruce heard himself saying, 'that everyone
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here realizes what all this is about We don't want any backers-out later who'll say they didn't get the idea straight. The group will carry out criminal activities. Is that clear? Robbery, holdup, kidnapping. Criminal activities. Okay?'
All the heads nodded. Only Ari spoke his agreement.
'This could put us all behind bars. Is that understood?' said Bruce. Again the heads nodded. Ari's this time as well.
'And, although we will avoid it if we can, there could be some violence.'
"There could be some violence,' repeated Molly Mandy as if she were looking forward to it. The rest nodded.
'Now, this is the last call. Anybody want to quit? I'm asking you to speak up now.'
Nobody wanted to quit. Their heads shook all along the line.
'Okay, that's settled. Now I'm going to hand you over to Ossie, who's the tactical guy. He was in Vietnam. He's going to tell you what to do next.'
'What about the profits?' asked Sidewalk Joe. 'How about the split?'
Bruce said: 'Equal shares, after the deduction of expenses.'
Sidewalk looked back steadily, then nodded. Nobody else said anything. Bruce felt uneasy. 'Right,' he swallowed. 'Now Ossie is going to go over our plans. Questions and suggestions afterwards. We're going to run this gang on democratic lines.'
'You can't,' interrupted Joe again. 'You can't run a gang like that, son. I know. There's got to be a big guy, the boss, and there's got to be a not-so-big guy and he's the second boss.'
Ossie looked at him. 'Bruce and me thought we kinda fitted those roles,' he said. 'If that's okay with you, Sidewalk?'
'Sure it's okay. It's just important to know, that's all. The bosses always get the longest stretch in the penitentiary. We got to know who they are.'
'Okay, we'll take that responsibility,' swallowed Bruce. 'Now, can we get down to business? Okay Ossie, let them hear it.'
Ossie leaned forward but doubt was still touching his face as he looked at them. 'We have a plan,' he said. 'For the first assignment. We've gotten a real nice lot of Russian guns, mostly pistols, but I might as well tell you the bad news. There's only one bullet.'
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He heard Sidewalk Joe say 'Christ', but he went on talking. 'Maybe this is not such a bad thing. If there's no ammunition, nobody here is going to the penitentiary for murder.'
'It's not the penitentiary I'm worried about,' said Katy thoughtfully. 'It's going up to God with a murder on my conscience. Now that I wouldn't care for.'
'Right,' agreed Ossie. 'So if there's no bullets nobody gets hurt.'
'What do we have to do, yell "bang"?' asked Sidewalk.
Ossie sighed. 'We use the guns as threats.'
'And what if we find we got guns against us?' said Sidewalk. 'Like fuzz guns.'
'We run,' shrugged Ossie. 'Or we surrender.'
'Good thinking,' said Sidewalk.
'Got any better ideas? The way we figure it we ain't going to have call to use any guns anyway. They're just kinda props. It's just for effect, Mr Sidewalk.'
'Which guy has the bullet?' asked Lou.
'Me,' put in Bruce decisively. 'I may have to blow my brains out.'
'Right,' Ossie began again. 'Any more questions about the guns?'
'Excuse me,' said Katy shyly. 'But I can't use a gun. Up to now I've never had a reason.'
'That's okay, Katy,' said Ossie. 'Tomorrow, if we can fix transportation, we are going on a little trip.'
'Goody,' he heard Molly Mandy whisper. 'Oh, goody.' He shuddered.
T know a place,' he went on, 'that's pretty quiet. It's off one of the Everglades tracks and we can take a couple of hours for instruction without anyone seeing us.'
'There's alligators in the Everglades,' pointed out Molly nervously. 'I don't care for alligators.'
'And snakes,' added Katy. 'Fl-fl-flying snakes.'
Ossie sighed. 'I'm afraid, ladies,' he said, 'that we have to take some risks. The whole operation is a risk. Now there's still time to back out. Anyone want to back out?'
Nobody did. Katy lowered her eyes. Ossie went on. 'We're
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going to have some weapons training. I'll handle that with maybe some assistance from Sidewalk, okay?'
'Maybe we ought to take some water pistols and bows and arrows,' suggested Sidewalk sourly.
'I can shoot a bow and arrow,' said Mandy.
'For Chrissakes,' put in Bruce angrily. 'Can we just get this matter straight without making a musical out of it? Okay. We go to the Everglades tomorrow. And I want you to keep your eyes open in that vicinity because that's where we're planning to run our first hold-up.'
'Are we going to rob the Seminoles?' said Lou blinking ponderously. 'Ain't no good robbing the Seminoles. They're poor Indians. They ain't got a bean.'
Ossie sighed. 'No, it's not that. But we think we have an idea how to make some good pickings in that area. First, we got to get this training done. We got to look right. We got to scare people. Okay?'
'Okay,' they all agreed.
'Right. We meet here at ten tomorrow morning. Got that? Ten. Anyone you know can fix transportation?'
T know a guy with a little bus,' said Sidewalk unexpectedly. 'I can get that.'
'Great. What about the dough?'
'Nothing,' said Sidewalk. 'I just have to lean on him a little.'
'That's the sort of talk I want to hear,' put in Bruce encouragingly. 'Let's be like that. Let's lean on people.'
They went out singly, at intervals of two minutes, in case of observation. Molly Mandy was the last to go. She turned at the door and said to Bruce and Ossie, 'Well, off I go to practise looking fierce? She ground her teeth as she went out.
Bruce and Ossie sat down and looked at each other disconsolately. 'Jesus,' said Bruce. 'What are we going to do with this goddamn bunch? I ask you?'
'Make them into a gang,' replied Ossie. 'You wait. It'll work.'
'I've got a name for them,' said Bruce somberly. 'The Ocean Drive Delinquent Society - the ODDS.'
'It sure fits,' nodded Ossie.
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five
South Florida's Everglades Parkway, otherwise known and marked on maps as Alligator Alley, cuts directly, east to west, across the foot of the state from Naples on the Gulf of Mexico to Miami on the Atlantic, a distance of about a hundred miles. After Naples there are no settlements of any size, apart from Seminole Indian Reservations, until Andytown is reached just short of Miami - Fort Lauderdale.
The Seminoles, once the proud water-Indians of the region, are now reduced to
an area of rough country to the north of the highway, with one large compound to the south. The rest of the area is swamp, saw-grass and entwined trees, the home of the alligator, snake, swimming bear, panther, bald eagle and flamingo. It is accessible only by air-boat, a light craft powered by a large fan on its stern, and tenuous man-made walkways linking occasional firm islands in the four hundred square miles of watery jungle.
There are, in addition, a few dirt roads turning off the main highway and pushing for a mile or so into the Everglades, generally to places of interest to tourists.
At one of these attractions, a bogus Seminole encampment, a busload of tourists from the Miami-Fort Lauderdale area were watching an Indian wrestle with an alligator. The air was humid and there was no great enthusiasm from the audience, their guide from Smileytime Tours, the Seminole called Blue Squirrel, or the alligator itself now lying somnolently on its back. Molly Mandy watched with only half-attention, her mind on other things. The tourist guide was a red-cheeked young man with a croaky voice. 'Now folks,' he called. 'Just watch that critter's tail when Blue Squirrel turns him on his front again. He don't like what's been going on and Blue Squirrel sure needs to watch that sneaky tail.'
Blue Squirrel reached carefully and turned the five foot alligator on to its feet again. Its tail struck at him spitefully and he jumped. A minor buzz of interest came from the tourists.
The Smileytime guide called out: 'And that ladies and gentle-
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men is the end of the performance today. I guess you want to show your appreciation to Blue Squirrel in the usual way.'
The people applauded and Molly Mandy in a brightly flowered straw hat slipped away towards a wigwam which bore the sign 'Telephone'. The audience drifted, leaving the Indian looking annoyed. 'Mean bastards,' he said to the alligator. 'Every time that guy says "show your appreciation", they think it's enough to clap. Never a goddamn dime.' The alligator opened its jaws as if laughing at the joke. Blue Squirrel closed them again with a firm push of his foot.
Molly Mandy was in the wigwam. 'Everglades one,' she whispered into the phone. 'Everglades one calling Everglades two.'
That Old Gang Of Mine Page 6
