Geezer Paradise (21 page)

             
We would keep some of it to plant in different parts of the park if need be, to make sure the entire park would be designated as an historic site.  Willey and I wondered if they would let us go on living there after the park was designated an historical site.  We decided they probably would.  The plan was on. 

             
The next night we decided we wouldn't tell our plan to Sofie.  We figured the fewer people who knew about it the better.  We told her we were going target shooting.  It gave us an excuse to carry the gun.  We got into the Wrangler and I said, "Wait a minute, I forgot my glasses, can't drive without my glasses."  I went back inside.  When I came out and got into the Wrangler again I said, "Damn, I forgot my hearing aid."  I went back inside again. 

             
When I came out again and got into the Wrangler Willey said, "You sure have a lot of parts, Barney."

             
"Yes, I said.  "When I die they'll bury me in one big box and seven l boxes."

             
"Next you'll be getting a toupee."

             
"I'm not bald," I said.  "I just have a wide part." 

             
We drove in silence to meet Mary in a McDonald's parking lot in Palm Harbor.  We figured it would be safer to meet out of town. 

             
Mary held a cardboard box in her arms.

             
"Hi, Mary.  Thanks for coming."

             
"Don't thank
me
.  I have just as much at stake as you do.  I'm just glad you guys came up with this idea."   I looked into the box.  It was almost filled with arrow heads, pottery shards, rough tools, beads and bones.  And that was only what I could see without digging down into the stuff. 

             
"This is perfect, Mary.  Where did your grandfather find all this stuff?"

             
"He told me he found it in a shell mound on Captiva Island down near Naples.  In those days there were no laws about removing these things.  People just picked them up as souvenirs."  I carried the box to the Wrangler.  Willey opened the rear gate and folded the rear seat over.  I put the box on the floor and locked the Wrangler.

             
"How about a burger and fries?" I asked Mary. 

             
"Sounds good.  I'm starving."

             
"Me too," Willey echoed.  We trooped into the restaurant, waited for our orders and sat way down the back where we could talk in private.

             
Willey asked Mary, "Do you think the town will throw us out of the park when this stuff is found?  You know, sacred ground and all that." 

             
"I hadn't thought of that," she said.  "Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants?  We can't ask around until the artifacts are found, either.  And then it would be too late.  I'll do some research on my computer and see what I can find out.  I don't think we should wait, though.  This afternoon a survey crew was in the park marking off the boundaries."  We told her we were going to the park later that night to get things started. 

             
"Where's your monkey," Mary asked.

             
"He's staying with his grandmother," Willey said. 

             
"His grandmother?"

             
"It's a long story," I said.  "Mary, how are you going to pretend you found the Indian stuff?  It's going to be buried."

             
"Just leave that to me," she said.  "I can be creative when I have to be.  Just let me know when the stuff is buried, and where.  And leave me some kind of marker so I can find at least a few pieces.  I'll take care of the rest." 

             
We finished eating and went back out to the parking lot.  I checked the back of the Wrangler.  The box was still there. 

             
"Thanks again, Mary," I said.  "Let's hope this plan works.  We're running out of options." 

             
"I'll keep my fingers crossed," she said, and waved goodbye as she drove out of the lot.  Willey and I got into the Wrangler and drove south toward the park.  We entered the park the same as we did when we came for my computer.  We found the plastic crates and used them to get over the fence again.  Once again we stayed in the shadows and walked behind the houses, hidden from the street.  This time we headed straight for the middle of the park.  I carried the box of trinkets, as Willey called them, and he carried a straight bladed shovel we had bought on the way down. 

             
We stayed in the shadows until we came to 377 Second Avenue.  Mary had told us it was an empty house, which made planting the artifacts easier.  Willey used the straight shovel to cut out a square piece of sod.  The depth of the square hole was about three inches--which was the depth of the grass roots.  I had a garden tool that I used to stab into the ground at the bottom of the shallow hole.  Then I inserted four different artifacts into the stabbed places at different depths and angles.  I tamped the dirt down so it would be hard again.  It couldn't look like the earth had been disturbed.  Willey replaced the square of sod and stepped on it to flatten it.  It was impossible to see that the ground had been tampered with. 

             
Finally, I took an arrow head and inserted it into one of the seams in the sod so that only the tip of it protruded above the ground.  Then we put a bottle cap down beside it so Mary could find it.  We repeated the process a half-dozen times in the same area, with different pieces buried in the ground, and different markers.  The rest were for the archeologists to find.

             
"I guess that's all for now," I said.  "Let's get out of here."  We picked up the box and the tools, and walked through the shadows until we came to the fence and the plastic crates.  We climbed over the fence, threw the crates into the underbrush, and pushed our way through the bushes to the Wrangler.  Then we loaded our stuff into the back of the Wrangler and headed back to Tarpon Springs.

             
On the way back to Sofie's we called Mary and told her where to look for the buried pieces and what we used as markers.  She said she would do it first thing in the morning so it would make the afternoon papers.  I told her it might be a good idea to call the local TV stations and tell them, too.  When we got back to Sofie's she asked us how the target shooting went.  We gave her blank stares, we had completely forgotten our lame excuse for going out. 

             
"It was terrific," I said.  "Hit the bull's eye every time."  I don't think she bought it, but she didn't say anything.  Later, we all sat out on the back deck.  Willey and I were antsy.  We could hardly wait for tomorrow and the big discovery.

              The morning started quietly enough, but by noon the story of the Indian find was on the TV news.  The talking heads were happily telling South Florida of an historic discovery: 
"Indian artifacts have been found in the Blue Orchid Mobile Home Park in Citrus Bay  . . ." 
We watched the videos of TV crews milling around inside the park.  Mary had done an excellent job.  When the afternoon paper arrived there was a picture of Mary smiling, and holding up an arrowhead.  I was still worried about Mary's safety, afraid the notoriety would attract the attention of Flaherty and his goons. 

             
I used Willey's phone to call Mary and find out what else was happening in the park.  She said, "A group of students from U of Tampa has just shown up to start excavating the site.  And the word is that Flaherty is bringing in an expert to debunk the find.  I don't think they'll get very far because the artifacts are real.  They'll carbon date them to determine their age.  The bones and pottery will tell them how old they are.  And a few minutes ago a group of old ladies from The Preservation of Our Heritage Society,
showed up to protest.  So far I can't figure out if they're protesting the group from the U of Tampa, or the expert who's trying to debunk the find.  This place is like a circus.  All we need are some elephants to make it complete."

             
"I don't have any elephants," I said.  "But I could lend you a monkey."

             
"Oscar would fit right in with this bunch."

             
Then I asked, "Mary, is McKnight still in the hospital?"

             
"No, he's recuperating in a nursing home.  He won't be back for two weeks."

             
"Do you still have the keys to his place?"

             
"Yes, I check on it from time to time.  Why?"

             
I said, "Willey and I would like to come by and see the circus for ourselves, and McKnight's place would be perfect.  We could see without being seen" 

             
"Sure," Mary said.  "You and Willey should be safe in this crowd.  Hit men don't usually hang around where there are television cameras.  I'll leave McKnight's side door unlocked for you." 

             
"We'll lock it back up when we leave," I said.

             
"When will you get here?"

             
"We'll be there in about an hour.  By the way, how did you work out how you happened to find the artifacts?"

             
"I told them I was walking my poodle, Bubbles, when she suddenly stopped and dug an arrow head out of the ground."

             
"I thought pets weren't allowed in the park."

             
"They're not, and I don't have a dog.  But they don't know that."

             
"You're a little devil," I said.  "We'll be there in an hour.  Bye."

             
Willey was watching the news.  I told him what Mary said. 

             
"Mary's behind on the news," Willey said.  "A group of Indians has shown up to claim the land as their own.  Crowds of people are stopping to rubber neck and the riot police have been called in to control the crowds.  I haven't seen this kind of excitement since Brittany forgot to wear her undies."

             
We told Sofie that something was going on at the park and we had to look into it.  She made us promise to be careful.  There was no question about Oscar coming with us.  Sofie wouldn't allow it.  Willey and I climbed into the Wrangler and headed off to the circus.

             
We turned in at the back of the farm and tried our best to hide the Wrangler.  Then we recovered the plastic crates and went over the fence.  There were no people inside the park.  Everybody was up at the front gate enjoying the Show.  Still, we walked through the backyards and stayed off the streets as much as possible.  When we got to McKnight's place we found the side door unlocked, just as Mary had promised. We went in and locked the door behind us. 

             
From the living room we had a good view of the front entrance to the park.  We kneeled on the couch and peered out the windows.  Mary wasn't exaggerating when she said it was a circus.  The Indians had come in full tribal dress.  One of them was wearing a long, feathered war bonnet.  He must have been the Chief.  His outfit was impressive, except for the sneakers.  They were doing some kind of dance.  Willey thought it was The Green
Corn Dance
. 
A large crowd of spectators had gathered, and the riot police were trying to keep them all apart. 

             
The little old ladies from The Perseveration of Our Heritage group were arguing with the news people, and a street juggler was doing his thing in the middle of it all.  We watched as a truck pulled up carrying wooden poles and bales of thatch.  The Indians unloaded the truck and carried it's cargo to the park's clubhouse where they proceeded to build a chickee on the clubhouse's front lawn.  The park manager, a lady named, Meg, was trying to stop them.  The park residents stood back at a distance, taking it all in. 

             
Then an open backed National Guard truck pulled up carrying about a dozen armed soldiers.  They jumped down from the truck and cleared out all the spectators, the Indians, the U of Tampa students, and the little old ladies from The Preservation of Our Heritage Society.
 
Then the soldiers stood guard at the entrance.  Willey and I both knew the National Guard showing up was the work of Senator Buckland.  Soon the park was back to its usual sleepy self.  Mary opened the front door and walked into McKnight's living room. 

             
"What do you think of that?" she asked.  "Buckland must have leaned on the Governor to get the National Guard here.  It must be nice to have friends in high places." 

             
"Do you think they can squash the whole thing?" I asked.

             
"No, they'll just make sure that the bureaucrats in Tallahassee drag their feet until it's too late and the condo's are built.  Then they'll put a display of the artifacts and maybe a statue of an Indian inside the clubhouse, in honor of the Sacred Burial Ground beneath it."