The Homeless Millionaire

Harry's radar had already told him something was off, because by the time I'd climbed the stairs to Gina's flat he was on the couch in the living room, lacing up his boots. He raised his head tolook at me when I entered the room, and said:

"Hey there. Didn't expect to see you again so soon. Something happen?"

I told him that indeed, it did. His face got increasingly tense as I told him the details, and it was frozen in a mask of anxiety by the time I was done. Harry didn't interrupt me once, even though I went on for a good minute. Gina had removed herself discreetly and was knocking around in the kitchen, and when I'd finished talking Harry lifted his chin and called:

"Gina!"

"What?"

"I've got to leave right away. Be an angel and make some extra strong coffee, will you?"

"All right," she called back, sounding resigned. Harry looked at me and said:

"F.u.c.k, man. I'm not sure it was a wise move to strand those guys like that. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice move. Very stylish and all that. But not necessarily wise. See, if we go back and confront them, they'll know it's my pot. They can go and report me for cultivation with intent to traffic on top of armed assault."

"Armed assault?"

"Sure. That reminds me. I better buy a bag of rock salt, I'm not sure I've got any left at the house."

"What the f.u.c.k are you talking about?"

"You'll see."

He remained enigmatic while getting his stuff together and smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. Gina didn't stay with us, she handed us our mugs and said she was going to have a shower and left before I had a chance to thank her for my coffee.

We drank in silence, and I kept throwing inquiring glances Harry's way over the brim of my mug and he kept ignoring them. Eventually he stubbed out his cigarette and put the empty mug down next to the ashtray and said:

"I gotta have a word with Gina. Why don't you run ahead and get us a couple of those club sandwiches to go, with some fries. And a couple of Cokes. We'll meet by the car, okay?"

"Okay," I said, and drank up and left.

When I was paying for the sandwiches I discovered I was down to my last thirty dollars. I'd been spending like crazy, what with all those cab rides to and from Lion's Bay. I really couldn't afford to spend any more money. It could be weeks before Chaz sold any of my stuff and it was weeks before Harry would pay me whatever he would end up paying me. If he lost that Cambodian stuff on top of what he'd lost earlier, he'd only have the skunk left. He wouldn't make a lot of money on that, especially if he kept some for his own use in the months ahead.

I really couldn't count on getting more than a couple of hundred from Harry, and that was a fifth of what I'd originally counted on. A couple of hundred was very little to get started on: after I'd paid for a room, I wouldn't survive for more than a couple of weeks. It really made me glum and when I met Harry by the car he instantly said:

"Hey. Did you tell me the whole story back there? Or have you left something out?"

"I left nothing out. You got the whole story," I said, handing him the bag with his sandwich and fries and Coke. There were no fries and no Coke in mine. I'd grabbed a couple of wrapped toothpicks on my way out of the Red Door Bar and Grill: I was going to chew on that if things got tough, just like those hardasses in the movies.

Harry reached out and gave my shoulder a light punch.

"We'll sort this out somehow," he said. "Chin up." And then, bless his heart, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet and gave me a five to cover his food. I made motions to give him change, but he waved it away. I got a dollar tip from that deal, actually a little more. It made me as happy as it would a beggar meditating over an empty cup on a street corner.

We got into the car and drove around town for a while before Harry managed to purchase his rock salt. Then we drove to Lion's Bay and had to buy some gas for the boat, the tank was almost dry. Harry cut the engine a couple of hundred yards short of the southern shore of our island, and used the paddle to put us ashore. So it was nearing three in the afternoon and the sun was well on its way down by the time we dragged the boat onto the shore, getting our feet wet in the process, and cautiously made our way to the house.

When we got close enough to see it we skulked in the bushes for a while, watching and listening. There seemed to be no one around, so we crept up to the house Viet Cong-style and got inside and locked the door. I put the bag with my new jacket on the sofa and went to the kitchen to get a beer. Some of that club sandwich seemed to have gotten stuck halfway down my gullet, and I needed to wash it down.

I could hear Harry moving around in his room, and the slam of a drawer being shut. He came into the kitchen carrying the rock salt he'd bought in one hand and shotgun shells in the other. He put everything on the table and rummaged around in the kitchen drawers until he found the knife he wanted. He also got a roll of black insulating tape and put it on the table with the knife and got himself a beer. When he'd sat down and lit a cigarette, I asked:

"Can you tell me what all that is for? Do you have a plan?"

"Yeah," he said. He smoked for a while, fooling around with the shotgun shells until all six of them were standing lined up in a row. Then he said:

"It's gonna start getting dark soon. We stay here, and wait until morning. But no sleeping. I'll keep watch out of my room. You'll watch the front and the sides of the house. If they got evil intentions, they'll likely approach from the back. Hopefully they won't come by at all. And as soon as it's light enough, we'll go looking for them. I reckon they'll stay near the shore so that they can signal a passing boat. There's gonna be a few of those because it's going to be a nice sunny weekend, likely the last one like that for quite a while, and a lot of people will be out on the water. So with any luck, they'll have waved someone down before we can find them. And it's gonna be a while before they find that cruiser, and return for the pot."

"What if they take it with them right away?"

Harry shook his head.

"Nah. They won't risk carrying it on board of the boat that picks them up. Too risky. They'll hide it someplace where they can find it easily, choose a landmark and leave it somewhere close. We'll try to find it before they come back."

"And if we don't?"

"We'll keep an eye and a ear for that cruiser - you said it's pretty loud - and we'll make sure we're waiting for them where they make landfall. We'll let them retrieve the stuff and then I'll walk up to them for a chat. I'll ask them to open those bags, and then if they're the ones that have been growing pot on the island."

"Ask them? Jesus."

"I'm here, my son," said Harry. "And I have a gun." He grinned, enjoying the look on my face, and added:

"I'll take the shotgun along."

"What if they aren't afraid of your shogun?"

"Then I'll shoot one of those guys and that will make them frightened, all right. Don't worry. I'm gonna shoot them with this."

He tapped the bag of rock salt standing on the table.

It took him the best part of an hour to slice the cardboard tops off the cartridges, exchange the lead shot for rock salt, and tape up the tops. While he worked he explained to me that rock salt mixed with pig bristle was the preferred combination.

"But we got no pig bristle," he said. "So we will make do with just salt. A guy gets a load of that in his crotch or his a.s.s, it's gonna hurt like hell without doing any real damage. Hopefully it won't come to that."

It turned out to be a very long night, one of the longest in my life. Harry insisted on keeping the windows open wide enough to hear anyone coming, and on keeping the house dark: we didn't light a fire. It was f.u.c.k.i.n.g cold, to sit there practically motionless for what seemed like an age. I was really glad I'd bought that jacket, I would have frozen to death without it. But it also irritated the shit out of me because it was brand new and stiff and kept rustling even when I was doing nothing but breathing. I was totally freaked out after an hour of that. My paranoid pal had a great time though, he really enjoyed every minute.

There were some funny noises outside shortly before midnight and I was still making up my mind whether to go and tell Harry about them when he came down from his room and told me that it was okay, it was just a raccoon looking for edible garbage left outside the house. I had been close to pissing myself from all the tension and when Harry had told me that, I had to instantly go and use the chemical toilet. I didn't feel so bad about it because Harry had to hit the can, too.

"You cool?" he asked softly on his way back to his room.

"You can say that again," I told him. "Can I smoke?"

"Sure you can. But take care when you light it, and keep it cupped in your hand so that the glow doesn't show. We don't want them to know we're in here."

"Okay," I said.

I spent the rest of that night chain-smoking cigarettes.

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