Pagodaville, page 10
“She’s amazing. I’m flattered.” She allowed the compliment to sink in. “I liked the game too much to make it a career. I had heard nightmares about quality of life.”
“Well, there are some tough women contenders out there. Hey, maybe we should play with the sheriff. He and his wife play frequently, and truth be known, Marge is a better player than he is!”
“Let’s!”
It was almost eleven by the time Steve dropped Lorna off.
Lorna was pleasantly pooped. Her hangover long gone, her spirit back to where it had been since she had moved south, her vision clear.
She was ready to start the next phase of the renovations. Thoughts of Doreen lingered on the periphery, but now that she had a new focus, she was glad to move forward.
TWELVE
Tuesday, June 24, 1980
When Anya and Milton came into the lobby on Tuesday morning to inform Lorna that Hernando was on his way over to the motel, they found Lorna on the floor underneath the front desk.
“Miss! What is wrong?” Anya knelt to be eye level with Lorna.
“I can’t find my favorite pen! I know it was here on the desk before the weekend. But, for the life of me, I cannot find it! I’ve looked everywhere!”
The two of them scuttled around under the desk.
Anya said, “Well Miss, maybe a vacuum cleaning will help. It’s a little dusty down here.”
Lorna looked over at Anya. “Really?”
Milton leaned over, “You want I should look into the trash? Maybe it fell in there by accidental.”
They heard the sound of two trucks entering the turn-around. Anya scooted out from underneath the desk. “This is Nando now. We can help look later?”
Lorna stood up, pulled her shorts out of her butt crack, and smoothed her blouse. “I just can’t imagine where it is!” She didn’t understand why Anya was giggling. “What?”
Anya pointed to her own rear end. “You got a panty problem? Maybe we have to excavate that too!” She let out a good laugh, her gold teeth gleaming in the ambient light.
Lorna raised her eyebrows. “Where do you come up with these things?”
Anya started to exit the lobby. “Oh, Miss…”
Lorna followed her wondering what was so funny about pulling her shorts out of her butt crack. She was surprised she did it in front of anyone. She usually reserved her bodily adjustments for the privacy of her own space. Must be that she felt like Anya was family.
Hernando Rubalcaba and his son, Gabriel, jumped down from their large trucks.
Anya and Milton spoke to them in Spanish while translating for Lorna in English. The details seemed fairly straight-forward. When Nando surveyed the area to excavate, he took some measurements and used a small hammer-like tool to chip away at the surface. He didn’t think it would take more than a day or two to break it all up. His son would drive the haul-away truck, and Nando would use the back-hoe.
After removing all the rusted hardware, Hernando and Gabriel began the process of stripping off the asphalt surface. It proved to be stingy. It was about a foot and a half deep. On day two, they uncovered the asphalt and found a solid layer of concrete stretching the length of the court.
There was a lot of banter back and forth between Hernando and Milton and Anya.
Milton tried to explain to Lorna, “‘Nando says now that the top layer is off, maybe to stop digging.”
“Why? Don’t we want to pull all the cement out and refill with soil for the garden? Wouldn’t we have to put a lot of soil to build up a base?”
“Well, yes, Miss. But he thinks the cement is very deep, maybe five or six feet, and his equipment is not strong enough to break through.”
Anya added, “He says we will have to call other workers in with jack hammers to break up the cement. It could be very expensive, he thinks.”
Lorna had to admit she was a bit out of her league when it came to these matters but she knew enough to know that cement was not a good base for a thriving garden. She asked Milton to ask Nando why he thought the cement base was so deep. “How could he know?” Anya translated.
There was a lot of Spanish going on and very little English in the translation.
Milton said, “Nando does not want to continue, Miss. He says he will break his equipment. He says it is okay to leave the cement base.”
Lorna shook her head. “I disagree.” She walked to the edge of now broken up asphalt surface and stepped onto a patch of concrete. She turned to look back at the crew. “So, let’s have Hernando and Gabriel clean this up and haul it away and call another company who can get through this cement.”
Milton nodded and explained in Spanish. Hernando, with his hands on his hips, nodded and looked at Lorna. She got the distinct feeling that something was amiss. The hair on the back of her neck prickled a bit.
Hernando and Gabriel climbed back onto their equipment and began the process of clearing the rubble into the haul-away truck bed.
Lorna went into the lobby and called Steve. He might know of a company who did heavy labor.
“Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I started digging up the little court. Remember I wanted to make a garden out of it?”
“Yeah, I remember. A great idea.”
“Well, we’ve run into a bit of a snag. Anya and Milton had one their cousins come by to strip off the top layer of asphalt and when they did that, they found solid cement underneath. They don’t have the right equipment to break through it, so I was wondering if you knew of a company that might do that.”
“We use a local outfit that works the municipal areas. Let me get the number here.” Lorna heard shuffling sounds from Steve’s end of the phone then he came back on. “Okay, Earl Driver and Sons. 466-9800. He’s a good guy.”
Lorna asked, “Do I need to get a permit for excavation?”
“Probably. Let me call you back in a few, see if I can expedite this for you.”
Lorna rang off and sat at the desk drumming her fingers. She was very annoyed about losing her pen. She couldn’t imagine where she had put it. Maybe when she was drunk the other night, she used it…for what? To write her last will and testament?
Lorna shook her head and started looking through the desk drawers one more time. Maybe it was buried underneath—
The phone rang. It was Steve.
“Okay, come on down to the station, and I’ll take you over to the local office. The inspector has to come out and make sure there aren’t any lines in the vicinity, things like that. In the meantime, give Earl a call and see if he can get you an estimate.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Steve. I’ll be there in about a half an hour.”
“See you then.”
Lorna dialed Earl’s number and spoke directly to him. He seemed like a friendly type, a little gruff around the edges. He told her he could come out later in the afternoon to see what she had going on.
Lorna went back outside where Anya and Milton were watching Hernando and Gabriel finish up their work.
Lorna said, “I’ve got to go to the Heatherton City Hall to get a permit to excavate. I called someone to come out later and give me an estimate.”
Anya looked at Lorna. “Well, Milton thinks maybe you can put more top soil on the cement to make the garden.”
Lorna looked at Milton, who looked away from her. “I’m a little confused. Milton, you’re so knowledgeable about these things.”
“Well, Miss. I…”
Anya interrupted, “You see, Milton is just trying to save you the headaches and money of more work that might not have to be done, comprende?”
“I understand but don’t worry about the money. I want this done right.”
“And the mess.”
Lorna felt her temper rise a bit. “What is going on, you two?”
Milton offered in his quiet tones, “We don’t know how deep, you see? It could be very deep.”
“So?”
No one said anything. Lorna felt her hackles rise again. “What is with you two?”
Hernando approached them. He spoke to Milton. Milton said, “They are ready to leave. He says he will send you the bill.”
“Okay.” She turned to face Hernando, “Gracias señor.”
He nodded. “D’nada. Adios, senorita.”
Lorna went back into the lobby to collect her purse and keys. Anya and Milton went back to their cabin.
As she was leaving, she heard Anya and Milton using raised voices in their cabin. They rarely spoke to one another in angry tones, at least since they had been at the motel. What was going on? She started to walk towards their cabin but stopped midway. It wasn’t her place to intrude.
When Lorna returned to the motel from filling out the paperwork downtown, she found Anya and Milton waiting for her in the lobby.
Lorna asked, “Are you two okay, you look troubled?”
Anya lifted her head and took in a deep breath. “We must go down to Boynton Beach. Our cousin Gloria has taken to be very ill.”
Lorna frowned and looked at Milton. He averted his gaze.
“Okay.” Her gut told her something wasn’t quite right.
Anya continued, “Cheenah will go too. She and Gloria are very close, you see.”
“Okay.” Cheenah never mentioned a cousin named Gloria. “When will you be back?”
“Well, this will depend on whether Gloria passes on or not.”
Lorna nodded her head. “Well, I’m sorry she is ill. You’ve never spoken of her.”
“We have a very big family, as you know. You see, we were only told about Gloria just this morning. We had to talk to our cousins down in Boynton Beach to get the details and so on.”
Lorna was not going to stop them from leaving but she had a very odd sensation flutter through her chest. Something was just off. “Will you call to update me? This is kind of sudden.”
“Yes, we understand. We will call.” Anya gave Milton a little shove and they left the lobby.
After they left, Lorna called over to The Palms. Cheenah did not answer the front desk phone. Her second-in-command, Paula McPherson, did.
“Hi Paula. This is Lorna over at The Pagoda. Is Cheenah available?”
“She just drove off the lot. Said she was going to be gone for a few days down south, a sick cousin. I had to rearrange my whole life to cover for her. Not that it’s a bad thing, I could use the money, but still…” Paula, a heavy smoker, coughed away from the receiver. “Oh, this cough!”
Lorna thought, “Maybe if you stopped smoking.” “Sure. Okay, thanks,” she said.
When Lorna hung up the phone she definitely knew something was not right. It was not like Cheenah to not call her. Their friendship had blossomed to where they spoke every day.
This was very unusual.
By the end of the day, Lorna had met with Earl Driver. He surveyed the area and decided that a crew of five would get the job done in less time. His rates were reasonable. The process could start the following day pending the okay from the inspector.
This was the first time Lorna had truly been alone on the property since hiring Anya and Milton. It felt strange. She walked into each cabin, ran her hand over surfaces, surveyed the interior, breathed in the silence.
The whole place felt very peaceful, maybe too peaceful. She wanted to hear voices, see women come and go about their lives, reap the benefits of her hard work and good will.
She called Avril but got her answering machine instead. She left a quick message and rang off. She was still mystified about the disappearance of her pen. She sat at the desk tapping her foot.
No one was around. Maybe she would call Steve.
“Nah.”
She decided to go to St. Augustine. It was a lovely evening. The sun was just starting to drop down out of the sky towards the horizon. The colors of the sunset were, as on par with northern Florida, simply lovely.
The motel was just too quiet.
THIRTEEN
Wednesday, June 25, 1980
The weather held during the morning of the excavation. There was a threat of a thunderstorm in the afternoon, but Earl and his crew were making good progress.
The sound of the hammers was deafening, so Lorna decided to head down to the beach.
As she was gathering her gear, Earl Driver entered the lobby. He didn’t come all the way in because he was covered in cement dust.
He spoke quietly, but the tone of his voice gave Lorna a chill. “Uh, Miss Hughes, we have a problem.”
FOURTEEN
Lorna followed Earl out towards the work area. It was quiet save for the hissing of the water in the hammer hoses. All the men leaned and stared down into the pit they had just unearthed. Lorna followed their gaze and saw what the problem was.
She had no words.
Earl cleared his throat and said quietly, “Ma’am, I think we need to call the police.”
Lorna nodded numbly, lightheaded.
Earl asked, “Are you alright, Miss?”
“No. I think I might need to sit down.” She turned away from the pit and walked unsteadily towards the main building. After ten steps she turned around and walked back to the pit, the possibility of what she thought she saw might not be the truth. She looked down into the pit again. Her head throbbed at the temples, the reality of what lay below her blurred her vision.
She mumbled, “This. Cannot be.”
FIFTEEN
When she heard the sirens, she realized Earl Driver had gone to his CB in the truck to call the police.
Steve Kent pulled up first in a cloud of dust as he skidded to a stop in the turnaround. He got out of the cruiser, went directly to Lorna and looked down into the pit.
“Ah. Jesus,” Steve muttered.
Steve continued to survey the pit while reaching up to his two-way located on a shoulder strap. “Marie?”
“Go Steve.”
“I’ve got a 10-16 at the Pagoda Motel. You need to notify the local FBI office in Jacksonville. Keep it quiet, Marie.”
“Ten four.”
Another cruiser pulled up right behind Steve. The Chief of Police and another officer approached the scene.
Steve put his hand on Lorna’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Sure. Sure, I’m fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a bunch of fucking human remains on my property. All in a day’s work, right guys?”
She looked at the workmen. They avoided her glare. One of the men said, “Look, it ain’t our fault. We was just doing a job is all.”
A few of the other men chimed in. “Yeah, ain’t our faults.”
Steve said to Earl, “You and your crew need to stick around. I imagine the FBI will be here soon. Might as well have your men relax in the shade.”
Earl shook his head, “Wait a minute, Officer. We got other jobs lined up for this afternoon.”
Steve nodded. “I understand, Earl. But, unfortunately, this is now a crime scene.”
Lorna turned away from Steve and Earl. The Chief approached Lorna.
“Miss Hughes? I’m Chief Sheriff Dan Goslin.”
“Hello Chief,” she managed to say. Her throat was parched.
He had kind eyes and was soft spoken. “This must come as a bit of a shock.”
She nodded her head and snorted. “You think?”
He took her arm gently and guided her away from the scene. “Let’s you and me go into the lobby and talk a bit, okay? Officer Kent has this under control.” The sheriff nodded towards Steve and the other officer as if they could read his mind. They pulled yellow crime-scene tape from the trunk of Steve’s cruiser.
She mumbled, “This just can’t be happening.”
SIXTEEN
“How about we have something to drink. Maybe some lemonade or iced tea?” Chief Goslin asked.
“I have a pitcher in the fridge, would you mind getting it? I have to make a phone call.” She directed him to the kitchen.
“Sure. I can do that.” He smiled at her and patted her arm as he passed her on his way.
Lorna picked up the phone and pressed the number two on her speed dial. When Avril answered, Lorna sat down heavily, put her head into her hand and quietly said, “I need you.”
SEVENTEEN
Lorna waited for the sheriff to re-enter the lobby. She excused herself to go up to her bathroom.
The chief nodded and said, “I’ll be down here when you’re ready.”
She closed the door quietly then sat down on the edge of the bathtub and put her head in her hands. She gasped and choked out a cry.
“Breathe,” she muttered. “Just breathe. Avril will be here soon. We’ll work this out. It’s going to be okay. How in the fuck did this happen?”
A turn of bad luck.
But, why? Why now?
She splashed cold water on her face and towel dried it. In the mirror, her eyes were dark, and her mouth was set in a slim line. “Damn it,” she said.
Lorna rejoined the sheriff when she composed herself. She was still shaky and bewildered.
“Better?” He smiled and handed her a tall glass of lemonade.
She took the glass and set it down on the table, “Yes, thank you.” Her voice a monotone.
He waited until she sat down opposite him.
“Miss Hughes, do you know anything about the history of this motel?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
He nodded and looked around the lobby. “You’ve done a good job fixing it up. Officer Kent keeps me apprised of the progress.”
She wasn’t in the mood for renovation chit-chat.
The sheriff cleared his throat and continued. “There is a bit of, well, shall we say lore about this property.”
“Oh?”
“Nobody really knows for certain, but we believe that the motel was used as a safe house, a hideaway for the mafia back in the late ’30s and ’40s. What with it being so off the beaten track, know what I mean?”
Lorna nodded. “Go on.”
“A Mexican family ran the place for many years.”
