All of us was real proud of Pop, and Holly said it made her think of the embattled farmers at Concord and Lexington. She is not really too smart of a girl because I don't know where she finds towns called Concord and Lexington in Jersey, and I don't know why them farmers would be embattled. Maybe she meant embittered rather than embattled, because if there is one thing farmers usually is, it is embittered. Anyway she meant well. We drove back to the bridge and the guard didn't want to leave us across, but Pop told him to look at that note again that we had give him and he would find it said to pass this here car over the bridge and it didn't say nothing about only passing the car over once. There is something about listening to Pop that makes some folks a mite dizzy and the feller got nodding in a sort of glassy-eyed way and let us cross.
In no time at all we got back to our camp. Things was just the way we had left them, and we all felt it was sort of like coming home, although of course it warn't really home. Holly and the twins got right to work to stock up on fish and crabs again, and I went after firewood. I was feeling so good I had to work it off so I cut near about a cord of wood. I had figured Pop would be taking a nice long nap to celebrate, but when I come back to camp, dog me if he warn't working. He had built a fence all down the line of our land and had made a sign for out front of our lean-tos. It said:
ANOTHER BETTERMENT PROJECT
—THE KWIMPERS
It took me a while to get what the sign meant, because I couldn't offhand think of any times before that any Kwimpers had done a betterment project, but Pop explained it didn't mean we had done betterment projects before but that the government had done a betterment project and now we had done one too. So that made it clear. It was a nice sign and I was proud to have it, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe the government warn't going to like having just anybody stepping out and bettering things.
5
WELL, we had a high old time for the next two days. There was all kinds of food now that we had been to the grocery, and that give us extra time to work on our betterment project. We laid out some walks on our land with coconuts for markers, and I built a big lean-to that we could have our meals in. Pop wanted some pots and pans and things from town, so I drove to the drawbridge. This time the guard wouldn't let me take the car through, but he couldn't stop me walking so I got into Gulf City and back anyway. One thing I brung was a big American Flag. I cut us a nice flagpole and rim up the flag while Pop and Holly and the twins stood at attention. I had been worrying some about us taking that land, but once we got the flag up it made everything all right, because now nobody could say there are a bunch of Reds that think they can just walk in and take what they want.
The afternoon of the third day after we come back, we heard a siren off in the distance, yowling like a cat telling another one what he was going to do to him when he got good and ready. Pretty soon we heard a bunch of cars coming across the island. We reckoned it might be Governor George K. Shaw opening up the new road, so we all lined up to watch. First a state highway patrol car come across our bridge with its siren yowling, and the fellers in it jerked their heads around and stared at us as they went by. Then come the Department of Public Improvements car and they was staring. Then come a long shiny car with state flags flying on its fenders, and Governor George K. Shaw stared at us too. Well, it was a mighty nice betterment project we had done but it didn't hardly seem worth all that staring, so I looked around to see if we had got the flag upside down or something.
It warn't anything like that at all. It was Pop and the twins. They was at attention and saluting. Only they warn't saluting in the regular way. They was lined up as nice as you please but each one of them had his thumb up at his nose, wiggling his fingers at the government. Now I knowed why Pop had taken them twins off for a couple of walks lately, and why them twins had done so much giggling when they come back. Pop had been practicing with them.
The whole line of ten cars went by with everybody staring at us. For a minute I thought Pop might get away with it, but just before the bend of the road on the mainland, horns tooted and brakes screeched and they all come to a stop. They had been dusting along fast and they done a good job stopping and I don't think more than two or three fenders got mashed. Then there was a lot of running up and down the line of cars, and folks pointing back to us. Finally two cars pulled out of line and headed back to us while the others went on. The first car was a state highway patrol car, with its siren going like the tomcat was good and ready now. The other was a Department of Public Improvements car. They skidded to a halt in front of us. A couple of troopers jumped out, looking like they was ready to shoot if we made a false move, and Mr. King jumped out of the other car looking like he was ready to shoot even if we didn't make no false move.
"Mighty funny, mighty funny!" Mr. King yelled. "But now we'll see who ends up laughing. I told you to clear out of here, didn't I?"
Pop said in a mild way, "We did clear out."
"You must be crazy! You're still here, and a whole motorcade of the top men in the state could see you were still here."
"We ain't still here," Pop said. "We are here again. We left for a while and come back."
"There's no difference at all," Mr. King said. "I warned you. Now we're going to have some action. Sergeant," he said, turning to one of the troopers, "you can arrest these people for trespass and half a dozen other things that I'll think of when I'm not so upset."
The trooper started toward us, but Pop said, "Speaking of trespass, this is private property back of this here fence, and the regulations is the police can't come on no private property unless they got a warrant or is chasing people or seen a crime. Nobody can chase us on account of not a one of us is running, and this is a free country and there ain't no law says it is a crime to thumb your nose at the government which is all we done."
Mr. King said to the trooper, "I tell you these people are crazy. This fill is state land under the control of the Department of Public Improvements."
"Not all of it is," Pop said. "You only got a legal right of way fifty feet wide. Figure it out. Twenty-five feet for the blacktop and twelve and a half feet each side. Our fence don't start till fourteen feet from the blacktop, and our land runs from there to the water which is twenty some feet."
Mr. King was spluttering so you might think he was a rocket getting ready to take off. "I never heard of anything so crazy," he said. "Even if the Department of Public Improvements doesn't own that extra fill, which I don't admit for one second, it's state land and you're trespassing on it. Sergeant—"
"The last time I looked at that state law they passed in eighteen-o-two," Pop said, "it said any land that hadn't been titled was free land anybody could settle on up to a quarter-section. All you got to do is show me this land was titled before we settled down on it and we'll move off."
Mr. King was getting that glassy look in his eyes that folks sometimes get when they argue with Pop. "How could it be titled before?" he said. "This land was just made! It—oh, why should I argue with you! Sergeant, come here."
Mr. King and the sergeant and the other trooper went back to their cars. They got out a map and studied it, and paced off the width of the blacktop and went back to the map again, giving us some mean looks they had to spare.
I sidled over to Pop and whispered, "You are going good, Pop, but what about that law you said they passed in eighteen-o-two? You don't know nothing about the laws in this state."
"Oh, I ain't worried," Pop said. "I have got the feel of this now, and that is a law they ought to have even if they don't. And it will give them a lot of trouble looking it up, because when they don't find it in eighteen-o-two, they will feel they got to look in eighteen-o-one and in eighteen-o-three and so on."
"Pop," I said, "you are the smartest man I ever seen. It probably takes the government months and months to whomp up a law, and you can toss one off without even taking a deep breath."
"I wouldn't want to take too much credit," Pop said. "Back in the Year One whe
n the Kwimpers settled in Cranberry County there warn't nobody bought land. I call to mind my Pop telling me how the Kwimpers had a big row with the government about titles, and some State Senator that knowed the Kwimpers swung a lot of votes dug out a law like that one I just made up, and it ended with the government giving in and letting everybody have titles. So if they had a law like that in Jersey they ought to have one like that down here, and if they don't, it is about time they did have one."
Mr. King finished with the map and the measuring and walked over to us, and if anybody had wanted to take on a real hard betterment project they could have tried cheering him up. "What did you say the date of that law was?" he asked.
"Eighteen-o-two," Pop said.
"I hope for your sake you're right," Mr. King said. "I don't really believe it for one moment, but I'm going to look into it. And in the meanwhile, if you know what's good for you, you, take mighty good care of this land."
"Why wouldn't I take good care of my own land?" Pop said.
Mr. King stood there a moment, and then turned and clumb in his car. I reckon he was more than a little upset, because he shoved her in gear and banged into the back of the state highway patrol car before it was ready to move, and the patrol car got into reverse by mistake and backed into him, and they done quite a lot of talking back and forth but finally got together on when to start and what direction to go, and took off down the road to Gulf City.
Two-three days went by and we didn't hear nothing from Mr. King. What we figured was he probably got bogged down going through old laws, because them things must get piled up pretty high. When the government gets too much money they can shove it off on other countries, and they can give away extra wheat and butter and things, but I don't reckon you can find nobody will take old laws off your hands, on account of everybody has got more than they want anyways. So finally Pop and Holly drove in to Gulf City to see could they learn what was happening.
They come back with Pop looking as happy as if he had thought up another way to thumb his nose at the government, which it turned out he had. "Toby," he said, "I only missed her by eighteen years."
"Whatever it is," I said, "it sounds like a pretty wide miss to me."
"I'm talking about that law, Toby. They got one like it, only it was eighteen-twenty ruther than eighteen-o-two. Didn't I tell you I had the feel of this?"
"Well," I said, "I am not surprised because it sounded right when you whomped it up. But how did you find out about it?"
"Me and Holly moseyed around the County Courthouse and found out. Not everybody at the Courthouse likes that King feller, and when he found that law he run around asking folks at the Courthouse how he could get rid of it, and what with not liking him much they done a lot of kidding and the story got around. The law says you got to keep a building up on unclaimed land and live on that land for six months and then you can file for a title, and if you live on it eighteen more months you can get your title for good and all. But you got to live on that land all that time and keep a building on it right through. One of the fellers at the Courthouse had me swear out a paper that we are on the unclaimed land and have a building and are starting our six months."
"Pop," I said, "I think you are getting carried away by all this. You are a Jerseyman and I am a Jerseyman, and this is the end of April and we was going to head back home as soon as you taught the government a lesson."
"I don't need nobody to tell me I am a Jerseyman because I already know that," Pop said. "It's just that I ain't going to let the government get in bad habits. All the government has to do is come around and say nice
and polite it would like this land back, and we will be heading home before you can say betterment project."
"Then I am with you, Pop," I said. "Because like you said once, there is no future for us here and I can feel my back getting better every day, so we better not stay here too long or you will find I am not Totally Disabled no more."
We figured Mr. King would be around soon to say the government was sorry, but a couple more days went by and he didn't come. So one day I was out on the bridge neatening it up. Of course it warn't my bridge but if you are lucky enough to have a bridge in your front yard you want it to look nice. There was a few cars coming by every day now, and they tracked dirt onto the bridge and so that day I was out with a broom and a shovel cleaning it up. I had just finished and was leaning on the shovel when a line of five big dump trucks loaded with shell come across the island and stopped by me. All of them was Department of Public Improvement trucks.
The driver of the first truck leaned out and said Hi Mac and I said Hi Mac to him and he said, "If you're taking care of this bridge for the department I guess you can steer us right. Is this what they call Bridge Number Four and is that the mainland over there?"
"This is her," I said. "There's a little metal plate on the bridge that says Bridge Number Four, and that's the mainland."
"Good," he said. "We got some shell that Mr. King sent. Prolly you know all about it."
"No," I said, "Mr. King didn't say nothing to me about it but then it's been four-five days since I seen him. How is he these days?"
"High and mighty as ever," the feller said. "He said we should dump this shell just beyond Bridge Number Four, right in front of some shacks that campers built. I see something the other side of the bridge. Are they the shacks?"
"They are really lean-tos," I said, "but I reckon Mr. King don't know that is their name and thinks they are shacks."
"Maybe you wouldn't mind hopping up here with me and riding across the bridge to make sure we get it right?"
I said I wouldn't mind, and clumb up with him and we drove across the bridge and stopped in front of our land.
The driver studied things for a while, and said, "Well, I guess we back up and dump the loads here. But it sure is going to leave a big heap of shell in front of these lean-tos."
"Do you think that's what Mr. King had in mind?" I asked. "Anybody can see that would block off them lean-tos from the road, and what with Mr. King not knowing they are lean-tos, maybe he thinks the back of a lean-to is really its front."
"There's something in that," the feller said.
"You can see it won't do no good to have more shell right by the road," I said. "But the other side of the lean-tos there is a real narrow beach and at high tide the water comes near about up to the lean-tos, so if you dumped shell there it would help keep out the tide."
"What about that fence?" the feller said. "Would they mind us taking down a section so we could get to the beach to dump the loads?"
"Oh, Pop won't mind," I said.
"Pop, you call him?"
"Most everybody calls him Pop," I said. "You can call him Pop, too, because he is used to it. Hey, Pop!" I called. "Some fellers want to dump shell on the beach and part of the fence has to come down."
When I had left to clean up the bridge, Pop had been making our bed and I reckon had decided to see if it was made up good. So now he woke up and come out and I told him again what we wanted. He said we sure could use more shell, and we took down a section of fence and the trucks took turns backing onto the beach and dumping the loads. While they done it, Holly and the twins come back from crabbing down the shore a ways, and Holly told the men if they had a couple extra minutes she'd be glad to heat up some coffee for them. They allowed as that was right nice of her, and one of them said he didn't like leaving no untidy piles of shell on the beach and why didn't they smooth it out some. So we all grabbed shovels and in fifteen-twenty minutes we had the nicest shell beach you ever seen. Then we all had coffee and the trucks finally left.
"That was real neighborly of Mr. King to send us the shell," I said.
"I ain't sure he meant to be that neighborly," Pop said.
"I can think of neighbors I'd rather have," Holly said.
That warn't a very nice way for Pop and Holly to talk about Mr. King, because it is not every day a feller will send you a shell beach, and it is not every week neither, bu
t I let it ride. All I done was make a note to thank Mr. King as soon as he showed up, and have a good laugh with him about how them fellers in the trucks almost made a mistake where they dumped the shell. It turned out I didn't have long to wait. Not more than ten minutes later a Department of Public Improvements car screeched to a stop and Mr. King jumped out.
"What the hell goes on!" he shouted, before I could start thanking him. "I passed those goddam trucks on my way here and they waved and nodded as if everything was fine."
"Oh, everything is fine," I said, "and them fellers done a good job."
"Oh shut up," he said. "You don't even know what I'm talking about."
"Well," I said, "I was talking about that beach you sent us, and I am sorry if it was meant to be a surprise but I was right here when it come and you can't hide nothing as big as five big dump trucks bringing you a beach."
Mr. King muttered something about a dumb son he had met on a beach somewhere, which didn't hardly make sense, and then all of a sudden he screamed, "Beach! Beach! Oh no, you couldn't have, not in that short time!" He jumped over our fence and run down to the beach and found Pop there, tamping down the new shell with the butt end of a log.
"Hello, Mr. King," Pop said. "I'm sorry I give you all that trouble looking up that law. It was just a slip of the mind that made me say eighteen-o-two ruther than eighteen-twenty."
"You stole that shell!" Mr. King yelled. "I don't know how you stole forty tons of shell in ten to fifteen minutes, but you're going to put every piece back or I'll have you in jail."
About then I seen it warn't that Mr. King had made a mistake telling the fellers where to put the shell but that I had made a mistake, so I give him the whole story and said we would be glad to put his shell back but there warn't no way to tell it from ours.
While I was talking he stood there breathing like an old steam engine trying to start up a string of freight cars. Finally he said, like he was talking to himself and not to us at all, "It's not that he's too smart for me. The trouble is he's too dumb for me."
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