Джон Макдональд - A Flash of Green

“People seem unable to listen,” Martin said gloomily. “It’s a delicate situation. Palmland has absolutely nothing worth loaning money on until they have title to the bay bottom.”

“How about the sterling character of the participants?” Leroy asked lazily.

“Oh, each of you could borrow a certain amount on signature alone, of course,” Martin said humorlessly, “but it wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

“You worry too much, dear,” Eloise said.

“I couldn’t go around obligating the bank like that,” Martin said.

“We know that,” Leroy said. “Everybody understands. And we appreciate your making that statement for us.”

“Martin was glad to do it,” Eloise said. She smiled at Leroy. Jimmy could see no meaningful emphasis in her smile or her expression. She looked hearty, handsome, confident and utterly relaxed.

“Maybe they could raise money by having Buck Flake put that up for collateral,” Connie Merry said, looking across the pool.

“Put what up?” Eloise asked. “Oh, is that the one? In the little orange dress?”

“That’s the one,” Connie said.

The orange dress was short, beltless and sleeveless, with a scoop neck. It made a striking color combination with her heavy silver hair. Each time she turned and moved, the dress clung for a moment to the warm lines of her strong young body.

“There is collateral the bank would like to accept, but cannot,” Martin said with heavy-handed humor.

“I saw her and wondered who she was. I’d heard about Mr. Flake’s... interest in her. I didn’t put two and two together. Got his nerve bringing her to a thing like this, hasn’t he?”

“He brought one of his salesmen along too,” Leroy said. “That’s supposed to make it all right. But it doesn’t make it all right with Dellie and Elmo. Not at this kind of a deal. Buck realizes that, so he’s been drinking to keep up his spirits. In spite of his knowing he’s just making certain Betty will hear about it from some dear friend, he has to keep showing her off around town.”

“She’s something to show,” Eloise said. “She must be over five ten.”

“In that glass she’s got is gin and ice,” Leroy said.

“You seem to know her pretty well, Mr. Shannard,” Connie Merry said, with a smile that wrinkled her freckled nose.

“As well as I ever shall, my dear,” Leroy said. “When they’re that young, they alarm me.”

“Maybe it isn’t any of my business,” Martin Cable said, “but isn’t it rather bad judgment on the part of one of the founders of Palmland Development to get mixed up with a young girl? Don’t the rest of you disapprove of such... an obvious relationship?”

Leroy smiled. “Ol’ Buck hasn’t been much use to us lately. But what are we going to do about it?”

“I can tell you one thing you can do about it. You can tell your other associates that the bank, any bank, is always hesitant about loaning money to people of dubious moral stature.”

Leroy looked at him sharply. “Do you mean that, Martin?”

“I was stating a fact, not an opinion.”

Leroy shook his head in mild wonder and said, “You know, I think a romance just ended. Didn’t it sound like that to you, Jimmy?”

Five men stood around Charity Prindergast. They all wore the same glazed, bemused expression. He saw her pat one of them atop his bald head, hand him her empty glass. The man scuttled off.

“I heard a small crunching sound,” Jimmy admitted.

“Suppose he won’t give her up?” Eloise asked.

“A noble stance like that,” Leroy said, “can happen in books, plays, and television, but not in the life of Buckland Flake. When anything stands between Buck and a dollar, he boots it out of the way.”

“Are all men like that, Leroy?” Eloise asked, slightly coy.

“Most of them, my dear. There are exceptions. I try to have the best of both possible worlds.”

“How nice for you!” she said acidly. “Isn’t Leroy clever, Martin?”

“What? I wasn’t listening, darling.”

“Let me guess! You were thinking about the bank!”

“Well... as a matter of fact, I was.”

By twelve-thirty most of the guests had left. Most of those who remained were drunk enough to have no intention of ever going home. There was one stubborn swimmer, and one girl who danced slowly, dreamily by herself, circling back and forth in front of the floodlights.

Jimmy Wing killed time, glancing at his watch. Elmo and Leroy were up in the office. Elmo had told him to come up at about quarter to one. Buck had passed out, facedown on a long padded bench in the workshop. The bar was self-service. Major had gone home. When Jimmy went to make himself another drink he found Charity sitting cross-legged on the floor, going through the stack of records.

She smiled up at him and said, “These are sticky old disks, dear. Look. Wayne King, for the love of God!”

He leaned on a table near her and said, “You’re trapped in the middle ages, Miss Prindergast. Rectangular types. We’re not cool. We’re not way out.”

She laughed up at him. “Buckie does that too.”

“Does what?”

“Tries the hip talk, but it doesn’t sound. It’s way over flat. Like I was to say ‘twenty-three skidoo’ and so forth.”

“God, girl! I’m a more recent vintage than that!”

“What difference does it make? I mean when a thing is gone, does it matter how long it’s gone? It’s like memories, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Well, you have a pocket to keep memories in. And there’s a sweetie memory that happened when you were six, right? And you can take it out of the pocket and it’s as shiny as what happened yesterday. And I have a memory of when I was six. In those memories, yours and mine, we’re both six and it happened yesterday. I was twenty last week. You can be twenty with me by taking out a memory from when you were twenty. There isn’t any age but young, dear. And the only time left is now. What is your name, anyhow?”

“Jimmy Wing. A momentarily confused Jimmy Wing.”

“Oh. With the paper. I don’t confuse myself. Why should I confuse you?”

“Stay where you are. I have to go now. I’ll be back later.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I always like being where I am best. I don’t have to go looking for me because I’m never anywhere else but here.”

“While we’re apart, I’ll think that over.”

Elmo was sitting on his desk. Jimmy sat on the couch beside Leroy Shannard. “We could have banners made,” Jimmy said. “The Palmland Panthers.”

“You drunk?” Elmo asked, frowning.

“No. I was just talking to Miss Charity. I got into the habit of a stream of consciousness.”

“Stream of unconsciousness,” Leroy said.

“Leroy is as pleased as I am with the two little things you worked out for us, Jimmy.”

“I’m pleased that he’s pleased.”

“We’ve decided that for a little while you’re going to mark time,” Elmo said. “We might not have to push anybody. They may drop off of their own selves.”

“Particularly when they find out they’re being un-American,” Leroy said.

Jimmy turned and stared at him. “How’s that?”

“I guess you just haven’t thought it through,” Leroy said. “What’s the greatest strength of America? Free enterprise, of course. And what’s more free-enterprise than reclaiming unsightly disease-breeding mud flats and turning those flats into a garden spot dotted with beautiful American homes? It adds strength to the economy. Why, my boy, if all over this great country little bands of Communist sympathizers and Communist dupes could put a spoke in the wheels of free enterprise by blocking progress and production, Red Russia could bring this mighty nation to its knees without using one single little bomb. Lenin said that in order to achieve victory over the capitalist nations, it is first necessary to bankrupt them. Leaving that bay untouched is one of the devices of a welfare state. It’s socialistic in nature. It’s part of the trend of the government owning everything. Naturally some of the people in Save Our Bays, Incorporated, have the best motives in the world. They love birds, or fish, or canoeing or some damn thing, but can you say they aren’t being subverted by somebody working behind the scenes, somebody who will take every chance that comes along to divide and confuse us and cripple the free-enterprise system? And maybe that person has a Red Chinese wife.”