Condominium (53 page)

“I sure did. He o-o-o-o-o-o—”

“Hold it! Take a deep breath, Ross. Then try it again. Take your time.”

“He o-opened the door and left the chain hooked and when I tried to tell him everybody had to leave, he said that it was a trick to get him and his wife out of their apartment, and once they left we were going to move his stuff out and change the locks. He said he wasn’t that dumb and he said that
nobody
was getting him out of there. He slammed the door. He used pretty bad language on me.”

“Forget him,” said Brooks Ames. “Let the son of a bitch drown. Fourth floor. The Brasser apartment is empty. So is Four-B, since Sapphiere moved out. Howard and Edith Elbright will evacuate as advised. Then there are us three in a row. Then Harlin Barker.”

“Mrs. Barker is bad off, they say,” Prentice said. “He’s going to stay in a shelter they got at the Legion Hall that’s only a block and a half from the hospital.”

“On the fifth floor,” Brooks continued, “we’ve three empties. Five-A is for sale, Five-E is an empty rental and the Protuses in
Five-G are still on that cruise. How about Mr. Jeffrey, Ross. You covered that floor.”

“Which one is he?”

“The skinny old professor on the bicycle.”

“Oh, sure. He said he’d probably leave.”

“Probably?”

“He said it really wasn’t any of my business because we guards had sort of appointed ourselves and he had no part in it, no voice in it, which made it undemocratic. Because of that he said he did not have to give me a specific answer about his personal plans. Then he gave me a long talk about personal privacy and so on.”

“We’ll check him again. How about Mr. and Mrs. Winney?”

“He just kept smiling and shaking his head no and saying that he and Mrs. Winney would be quite all right. He said they’d made all the preparations to wait it out right here.”

“I’ll give it a try later. Let’s see. The Wasniaks are leaving. Ben and Alice Hascoll are leaving—have left, in fact. I saw their Olds go out last night, loaded. They were terrified. They were heading for the hills.”

“Hills?” Prentice asked.

“It’s just an expression. Okay, the sixth floor. Three empty rentals and one for sale. So there’s only three occupied on six. We know that the Clevelands are staying and going to the Santellis’ hurricane party in Two-A with the Quillans. Has anybody checked with Jack Mensenkott about staying on the mainland? His wife is in the hospital, you know.”

“I tried knocking on his door three times,” Jim Prentice said. “And I’ve phoned him a couple of times. I haven’t reached him.”

“Keep trying. Henry Churchbridge and his wife are getting off the key. That takes care of the sixth floor. Now for the penthouses. The Messengers are gone already. She’s staying at the hospital with
him. The McGinnitys and the Davenports and the Forresters are evacuating. How about the Starfs, Jim?”

“The Reverend Doctor Harmon Starf listened to me, and when I told my story he stared at me for, I guess, five seconds, and then he slammed the door. I mean he is one big man and he really slammed it.”

Brooks Ames nodded and said, “That’s another neighbor I can do without. Okay, let’s recap the master list, men. Here are the ones we know are staying, no matter what we do: Santelli in Two-A; Quillan in Two-B; Branhammer in Three-G; Winney in Five-C. Cleveland in Six-C; Starf in Seven-E.”

“I don’t know if Starf is going or staying,” Prentice said.

“There’s nothing we can do anyway. The ones we have to make another contact with are Colonel Simmins in One-G, Professor Jeffrey in Five-B, Jack Mensenkott in Six-F … wasn’t there somebody else?”

“Lorrie Higbee on the ground floor.”

Ames studied his list. “Dammit, it doesn’t add up. I’ve got forty-six apartments accounted for. I’m missing …”

“Hey,” Ross Twigg said. “We left out the Furmonds.”

“Who?”

“You know. On the first floor. She’s that tall woman with the sunburn and the bulgy eyes that found Jesus and stood up at the meeting after Branhammer popped off.”

Ames checked his list. “Right! They’re in One-E.”

Ross continued, “I remembered because I saw her out in the parking lot yesterday and asked her to leave pretty early to avoid the rush. She said that she and her husband, they were putting their fate in the hands of the Lord, and if they were meant to die in this hurricane, running off to the mainland wouldn’t change a
thing. She said everybody would be better off praying than running around with candles and lanterns and first-aid kits.”

“Damn!” said Brooks Ames. “That makes seven staying, if we count Starf. I’d hoped we’d do better than that.”

“You know,” Jim Prentice said, “we’re doing one hell of a lot better than the people in Azure Breeze and the Surf Club and Captiva House. I’ve got a friend from Azure Breeze I talk to on the beach. He does a lot of surf casting. He told me yesterday afternoon that he didn’t think even a third of their people would leave. He said they got the revetment and the seawall and pilings way down deep, and most of them think that building is the safest place they can be.”

“Not according to the Harrison report.”

“He’d heard something about that, but he hadn’t seen it. He said everybody tries to scare you these days, and the hell with it. He talked it over with his wife, and they’re staying.”

“Well, men, let’s split up and check these people out as best we can, and then ride on over to the Sports Center shelter and see how much help we can be getting the people settled in over there.”

“Helen still thinks we should have all gone to a motel,” Ross said.

“I think it’s better to go where we can be of service. We all know first aid. We all know the rules. We can be a big help.”

Justin Denniver was eating glazed doughnuts and watching the little color set in the kitchen when Molly Denniver came wandering out of the bedroom in her old pink robe. Her face looked puffy and her eyes looked small and red. Her dark red curls were matted and her little plump mouth was pallid.

“What’s new about the storm?” she asked.

“Shut up,” he said, taking another bite of doughnut.

He had Channel 13 out of Tampa. They were on the cable. Roy Leep, the chief meteorologist, was explaining the radarscope picture of Hurricane Ella and had moved over to the satellite photograph.

Molly said, “You know, I don’t ever really believe anything about the weather unless I hear Roy Leep say it’s true.”

“Shut up,” said Justin.

Roy Leep was saying, “You will notice that the cloud mass of this major hurricane reaches all the way from mid-Cuba, to Merida in Yucatán, to Tampa. And right here we can see the well-defined eye, which in this picture, which has a half-mile definition, is approximately forty miles in diameter. It has now changed direction again and is moving due north, at approximately fifteen miles an hour. If it continues on this course, it is going to do enormous damage to the entire West Coast of Florida, particularly the offshore islands and keys.

“All hospitals, law enforcement agencies, fire and rescue organizations and civil defense groups from Naples to Apalachicola have been placed on an emergency basis, and those of you who might be watching this station from any of the exposed keys are urged to evacuate as soon as possible. Very strong winds are reported at Key West. Heavy rains and high tides may block access roads to the keys before a complete evacuation can take place, so those of you in the Fort Myers, Athens and Sarasota areas are advised strongly to leave now.”

“Are we getting off the key, Jus, honey?”

“Shut up!”

“The strong winds from the south are pushing the water levels very high in the Gulf, and the residents of the coast can expect that
as the eye of the hurricane passes their location, as it moves northward up the Gulf, the winds will shift to a westerly direction, piling the water against the coast. The actual direction of Hurricane Ella has now become less stable and more unpredictable. She may move in toward shore and cross the shoreline at any time late today or during the night. If this should happen, there will be very strong winds just south of the eye, perhaps a hundred and fifty miles an hour and more, from the west, plus a storm surge of possibly ten to twenty feet.

“I repeat, this is a very strong and dangerous hurricane and all residents of the West Coast of Florida should take all precautions suggested by the advisory services.”

A man in a hairpiece the color of a red setter began extolling the car deals he was willing to make. Justin Denniver punched the set off and Molly sat down across from him with her glass of juice and said, “I think this time maybe we ought to get off the key.”

Denniver stared at her. He was a big man who seemed to be fashioned of mismated parts. He had an oblong face of an unhealthy yellow-gray cast, short heavy arms, a barrel chest, a pumpkin belly, long slender legs. He wore his gray hair in a high-bristling brush cut and dyed his mustache black. He had a hollow clanging voice, as if he were speaking down into an oil drum. He said, “All my life I’ve been here. Born during the hurricane of ’28. I built this house hurricane-proof. I’ve got respect for those mothers. I laid in all the supplies we need for a week. We couldn’t be no better place than right here.”

“But you heard what Roy Leep—”

“Shut up. Go fix yourself, for God’s sake. Why do you come out here before you even wash your face or brush your hair? You turn my stomach sometimes, Molly, you really do.”

“I think maybe I’ll let you sit this one out here.”

“I thought you might.”

“What does that mean? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’ve got my tail in a crack. You know it and I know it. You made it all clear what I’m supposed to do. No, sir, Your Honor, my innocent little ol’ lady, she never once opened them envelopes Lawyer Traff was leaving here for me. She thought they were some kind of legal stuff is all. She put them in the bedroom safe like I told her to.”

“So?”

“So I’m going to be the loser and you’re going to come out winner. You sure do like to win anything you play, Molly.”

“What’s this all about?”

“What if I tell you that Lawyer Traff’s car was here a lot more times than Lawyer Traff was leaving off them envelopes?”

“I’d say you were absolutely correct. Why?”

“He was here?”

“Of
course
he came here! Quite a few times. Mostly to tell me his troubles. Maybe I’m a mother figure. How should I know? I’d offer him a swim and a drink and a sandwich, and it would shape him up. I think I told you about that more than once.”

“The hell you did!”

“Justin, honey, you seldom listen to
anything
I say. You nod and grunt, and that’s it. I might as well talk to the wall.”

“I would have heard you say that.”

“Who would bother to tell you a nothing thing like that?”

“Somebody that figured I shouldn’t be such a damn fool.”

“About what?”

“About you getting screwed by Lew Traff is what!”

“Oh, Christ, Jus, your troubles are clouding your mind. If I really wanted to get laid by somebody other than you, I would probably pick that kid over at the club, the assistant pro, Troy Mallory.
But they say he’s already got his hands full with Francie Liss. Maybe he could fit me in somehow. I could make an appointment. What do you think?”

He looked at her in a puzzled way. “What do
I
think?”

She laughed with delight. “Oh, God, you look so funny and sweet, Justin. If I’d brushed my teeth yet, I’d have to kiss you. Honey, if we’re going to stay here, are you going to put up the shutters? You’ll need help, right?”

“I’ll get them out now.”

“Nothing ever happened with Lew. Nothing ever could, honey.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m nervous lately.”

“I know, I know. Poor honey. Be with you in a couple minutes.” On the way out of the kitchen she stopped and turned, frowning, and said, “What’s that!”

They both listened. The roar came from a long way off and then arrived, a rain as heavy as they had ever seen. It enclosed the house in a silver curtain, so impenetrable they could not see the dock and the Mako on its davits. The roar was so loud she moved closer to him and raised her voice. “I think we better hurry!”

“Take your time,” he shouted. “There’s plenty of time yet.”

In five minutes the rain slackened as the squall moved northwest.

LeGrande Messenger and his wife were in Suite B on the fifth floor, the top floor of the Dickinson Wing of the Physicians and Surgeons Hospital, four miles east of downtown Athens. Sam Harrison anticipated a lot of arguments about the two heavy suitcases he carried in through the driving rain from the parking lot, but his look of confidence and his seeming awareness of exactly where he
was going took him past the momentarily thoughtful gaze of the desk people.

The foyer door and the inner door were open. Barbara was sitting beside the sleeping man. She got up quickly and came out into the hall and said, “You’re drowned!”

He pulled his shirt away from his chest. “Drip-dry.”

“What on earth have you got there?”

“Emergency stuff. Lots of water, food, candles, flashlights, batteries, radio and so on. All that kind of stuff.”

“For us? But this is a
hospital
!”

“With a limited capacity on the emergency generators, and they’ll save those for emergency-room work. And your odds against getting food and water by using a telephone that won’t work either are not good.”

“Are you trying to scare me, Sam?”

“I was making the assumption you’re an adult. Precautions are the cheapest thing you can invest in.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. And it is very kind of you. Thank you. Where are you going?”

“Not sure. I’ve got some stuff down in the car.”

“Were you going back to Golden Sands for anything?”

“Why?”

“I left something there I shouldn’t have. I’ve been wondering what to do.”

“No problem. I can go back. What is it?”

“Here are my keys. Sam, it’s a bronze bull about this long, six or seven inches. It dates back to twenty-five hundred
B.C
. It’s Chinese.”