Prisoners of the Williwaw (14 page)

"All-right!" both men said.

"Just one thing, men."
 
Gilmore kept his voice low.
 
"I'd like your support next meeting when we talk about bringing more convicts here.
We just don't have enough people to make it work."

"Right."

"Sure thing, Boss."

"Listen, Big Jim, can you excuse me for a minute.
 
There's a private matter I've got to talk over with
Fitznagel
."

"Sure, Boss."

Big Jim left and Gilmore put his arm around
Fitznagel
. "Fitz, it's about this black-white thing."

"Oh,
Jesz
, Boss, I'm sorry about that.
 
It's that
fuckin
' Wilson.
 
He's so - "

"No, the point I want to make is the prison system uses race to keep us divided.
 
We might need Wilson's vote one day.
 
You get my drift?"

"Oh, yeah, - sure, Boss."

Fitz's eyes were blank.
 
He probably didn't understand. "What I mean, Fitz, is don't get Wilson mad.
 
But come on, let's forget about it.
 
Walk me over to the liquor table and we'll get a drink."

Gilmore had noticed
Muscoti
and his wife standing by the table.
  
It would be a convenient way to get rid of
Fitznagel
and to switch over to the more important talk with
Muscoti
.
 
A little circle of wives stood by the table.
 
He had to remember to introduce Latisha to them.

Fitznagel
was back on the sea otters.
 
"God, you could make a video of that and - "

"Fitz, can you excuse me?
 
I've got to talk to
Muscoti
.
 
Get yourself a drink."

"Sure, Boss."

Gilmore went up to
Muscoti
and his wife.
 
Muscoti
was a Mafia boss, the old school, who had gone legit into the garbage business.
 
He had the know-how and the connections to build a rival organization, but Gilmore saw no evidence of the usual collection of muscle and bagmen.
Just in case, Gilmore had instructed his staff to listen for him to tell them someone was sterling.
 
That meant they were to neutralize the person anyway they could.
 
They even had a practice session where Gilmore declared someone sterling, and the staff tried to take that person out.
 
All agreed that
 
sex, drugs, and knock-out drops were the best ways to deal with a sterling person.

Gilmore shook
Muscoti's
hand and nodded to Missus
Muscoti
.
 
"I hope you folks are enjoying yourselves."

"Yeah, nice party, Gilmore."
 
Muscoti's
slight smile seemed to indicate that he knew exactly what Gilmore was up to.

"Can you excuse us for a minute, Missus
Muscoti
?"

She nodded and backed away.
 
Gilmore led
Muscoti
to a chair along the wall. "I'm glad you came tonight.
 
I'm
honored
."

Muscoti
nodded.

"And I think Villa was really smart to put you on the council.
 
We need a man of your experience to advise us."

Muscoti
glanced at Gilmore like he was putting him on.
 
"No, I mean it, Moose."
 
The use of
Muscoti's
nickname would imply they were equals.

"Yeah,"
Muscoti
answered, "Villa knows what he's doing.
The question is - "
Muscoti
stared hard at Gilmore
 
" - what are you doing?"

Muscoti
was sharp, no question.
 
He would have to be brought in on operations.
 
"That's what I want to talk to you about, Moose.
 
Cars.
 
A gold mine."

"Yeah, Villa slipped up there.
 
I seen how fast you moved in on everything with wheels."

"I tell you, they're pure gold," Gilmore said, standing up.
 
"You know how these cons are; they like their cars more than their women.
 
And with this weather everybody is going to want a car to get around.
 
My men have located about thirty cars, a few 4-wheel drives, and one truck.
 
I've got one mechanic on the job already.
 
Of course, we only have a few running so far."

Muscoti
stood up, too.
 
He picked up a long piece of tundra grass someone had carried into the building and bounced it idly against his hand, like he was thinking over what Gilmore had just said.
 
Gilmore knew
Muscoti
already understood he was asking him to take over the car business and run it as a subsidiary of Boss Gilmore Enterprises.
"How is this of concern to me, Gilmore?"

"I want you to run the operation.
 
Think big, think for the future.
 
Imagine the business we'll have if everybody wants a car.
 
Gas stations, new cars, rental cars.
  
And of course the more cons we get up here, the stronger our economy is and the more guys there are, the more cars we'll need.
 
I hope I can count on your vote to bring more people up here, Moose."

"We'll see, Gilmore, we'll see."

Muscoti
was an unknown.

Muscoti
motioned for his wife to join them.
 
Gilmore shook his hand and headed again for the liquor table.
Latisha was still behind the table arranging the cheese and crackers.
 
This was the time to -

Somebody tapped him on the back.
 
Baker.

"Hell of a show, Gilmore.
 
Thanks for the invite.
 
This is Alice, my Missus"

With Baker he would take a different approach.
 
Alice Baker was part of the organization.
 
Some said she was the organization.
 
The Bakers had ruled the downtown bar scene for years, but both husband and wife were now in their early sixties.
 
The story went around they were taking a nap when the Feds moved in on them.

"You going to work in this factory tomorrow, Gilmore?" Baker asked.

That was a question to duck.
 
Gilmore laughed easily.
 
"That bitch,
Carvinere
, on your case?"

"Fuck, yeah.
The bitch wants me and Alice to work same as everyone else.
 
What the fuck, I say.
 
If we run out of food or heating oil, Uncle Sugar will help out.
 
He always has."

Alice added her 'yeah.'

"No, I'm afraid it's for real this time.
 
It's work or starve.
 
The Feds
ain't
kidding.
 
And things aren't going to change until we can get more people up here to do the grunt work.
 
That's why I made the motion for another shipment of cons.
 
Support that motion and I sure as hell would go along with a motion to make you work coordinator. You say who works where."

"What about me?" Alice asked.

"Both of you.
It's a big job."

But Gilmore knew he couldn't slack off on the factory.
 
He had to live up to his promise to Alexander
Duban
to make this factory run efficiently..

"Factory's important for another reason, Baker, Alice.
 
Without it we have no way to do any smuggling."

"Smuggling?"

"Yeah, a factory means goods moving out and component parts moving in.
 
We have to find a way to beat the mail censors in Seattle.
Men do have money back on the mainland, but they can't get it here.
 
And we need an ongoing method to get booze and drugs up here."

Alice spoke up.
"Sharp, Gilmore, sharp.
 
But we're going to do like you and sleep in tomorrow."

"I'm not sleeping in.
 
I'm taking it on myself to make sure the factory operates, that people show up.
Do you think anyone's going to work because Straight Frank tells them to?
 
No.
Cons will listen to a prison boss, not some choirmaster."

"Whatever," Baker said with a sigh.
 
"As long as I
ain't
got to work."

Baker's attitude was dangerous, Gilmore thought. People had to report for work in the morning.
Maybe if he sent Larson with a clipboard to stand at the factory door.

Gilmore noticed Latisha still behind the table, but Big Jim and
Fitznagel
were in front of the table and he'd already talked to them.
 
If he moved toward Latisha, they'd corner him again with more talk of sea otters. They really were ignorant crackers.

Anyway it was time to look for Rodriguez.
 
What was it that Latisha wanted?

Chapter 15

"How does this look?"

Jeannie Dickinson came in with a plate of cheese and crackers, the cheese cut into numbers and letters.
 
Her expectant eyes looked up at Latisha.

"Very nice, very nice indeed.
 
Here, let me help you," Latisha said, taking the tray from her.

"How was my mom?" Jeannie asked.

"Excellent, good, couldn't be better," she said while wanting to say, "Obscene, crude and unnatural."

Jeannie looked around.
 
"This is so cool.
 
Your husband puts on a great party.
 
I just wish there were more people my age.
 
I know what, I'll take the cheese tray around."

"Okay."

Latisha watched her go.
 
The girl had no hesitation walking up to people.
 
If only she could be like that.
 
Then she wouldn't need Gilmore.
  
He had never
honored
her request to 'introduce me.'
 
He had connections to make.
 
Obviously she wasn't one of them.

Latisha bent down behind the table to clean up a drink someone had spilt. When she stood up Big Jim and
Fitznagel
were back in front of the table for the fourth time.
 
They picked the cheese off some crackers, letting the crackers fall to the floor. They ignored her, turning away toward the party, and continued to talk.

"So why is he so hot to get more cons up here?"
Fitznagel
asked.

"Takeover, man, a
fuckin
' takeover.
 
Boss figures a lot of these people are loyal to Villa.
 
But a new bunch won't know anything about Villa.
They'll line up behind Gilmore.
Fuck, man, every prison Gilmore's been in, he's come out on top."

"And we'll be his lieutenants."

Big Jim eyed
Fitznagel
.
 
"Well, at least I'll be."

"What about me?"

"That nigger talk, well - us whites got to play it cool."
 
Big Jim shrugged and turned toward Latisha to get more whiskey.
"Hey, sweet mama, I seen you around tonight. Here - " he shoved his glass at her - "put a spike in this drink and - " his eyes went up and down her - "I'll put
somethin
' into you later."

The pig.
The animal.
 
She stuffed the dirty towel she'd been using to clean the floor into his glass, then walked out of the auditorium.
 
The hell with Gilmore and his henchmen.
 
She was so invisible these two didn't even know who she was.

 
She grabbed her parka from the front hall and stepped outside, against the building, where the weather raged at her. The wind felt like it was pinning her against the building.
 
Rain drove into her face from the west, big globs of water that hit her straight on, then slid down under her parka.

She focused on an old panel truck that had been in the parking lot since they came.
 
It had probably been abandoned when the Navy left.
The fierce wind was actually rocking the truck.

The anger she felt minutes before dissipated as she watched the violence of the wind.
Rather than turn out of the wind, she continued to face into it.

She was proud of him earlier, in the afternoon, as he took his place on the council. After the meeting they walked in the rain and then he took her for tea and they talked about family. She would have gone to bed with him, but when they got back to the officers' club, he immediately got involved with planning this party.
 
And now
 
he was Boss Gilmore, ignoring her, building his organization.

What should she do?
 
All evening she'd worked on his party, trying to be part of his life.
 
What good did it do her?

Abruptly there was no wind at all, creating an eerie sense of impending disaster.
 
The driving rain changed to gentle drops.
She flattened herself against the building. Without warning the panel truck that had been buffeted from the west was hit by a williwaw from the north.
 
Without so much as one rock back and forth, the truck tipped over with a loud crash.

Amazing.
 
A wind that stored itself up behind Mount Moffett and then roared down on Adak.
 
A powerful wind that settled things once and for all. A williwaw.
That's what she would do.
 
She would pull Gilmore away from the party and confront him.
 
She would hit him with a williwaw.

Inside she walked toward Gilmore who was huddled with
Muscoti
again. As she passed her serving table, she saw Jeannie and her mother sitting there.
A lively girl and a tired mother, a girl who embraced everything that came her way and a mother who pushed the world away.

"Hi, Latisha.
This is my mom, Irma."

Latisha shook her hand.
 
The woman hardly looked at her.
 
"Thanks for the ride yesterday," she murmured.

"My mom came here to rest."

"That
Fitznagel
," Irma said, showing some life, "is a pig.
And so is Big Jim.
 
The two of them asking me for some free romp that Gilmore promised them.
 
Like hell.
I
ain't
giving nothing away for free especially to them slimy bastards."

"Why don't we go into the kitchen and have some tea?" Latisha said

"Hell yes.
If the boss' wife says take a break, I take a break."

In the kitchen Irma sat on a stool by the stainless steel counter and rested her head on her arms.
  
Latisha made tea and Jeannie helped her.
 
"This is such a cool party," Jeannie said.
 
"Do you think I could interview Boss Gilmore?
 
I'm going to do a newspaper."

"Sure," Latisha said out loud, while thinking inside that she would like to interview him as well. Why are you against Frank Villa? Why did you bring me to an island full of convicts and then not even stand by me?

Latisha sat down while Jeannie stared at the image of herself in a stainless steel pot.
 
"Wouldn't it be great if we could have a party for all the kids here?
 
Trouble is there aren't many of us.
 
Boss says they're
gonna
bring more families here, right Mama?"

Irma nodded.
At that moment Latisha heard the door creak open.
 

A large form filled the doorway.
 
"Who's there?" Latisha asked.

Carl Larson walked into the light.
 
Latisha felt fear spread through her body, twisting her stomach, shaking the teacup in her hand.
 
He moved slowly like some Halloween movie nightmare.
 
"Oh," she said, "I thought it was Gil.
 
He said he'd meet us here."

Larson stepped forward, right to the counter they were sitting at.
 
"No.
 
It ain't Gilmore.
 
He's yakking away in the auditorium.
 
He ain't been watchin' you, but I been watchin' both of you, the sea otter and the liquor lady."

Larson glared at both of them, then focused on Latisha.
 
He stared at her breasts and, leaning forward over the edge of the counter, he leered at the rest of her.
 
His right hand went down to his belt buckle.

She took a big breath to give herself courage, then let go of the breath.
 
"Gil - is coming in a minute."

Larson sneered at her.

How could she protect Jeannie?
 
How could one of them escape to get help?
 
A flash of the truck turning over came into her mind.
 
The wind.
 
The wind was powerful.
 
She would be powerful now.
 
"Irma, put your tea in the refrigerator."

"Tea in the refrigerator?"
 
Irma hesitated then she seemed to catch on.
 
She grabbed Jeannie and slid around Larson, heading for the refrigerator and the door.
 
Latisha moved in the opposite direction toward the sink.

At the sink Larson stood between Latisha and the door.
 
"You didn't finish your tea."

"I-I've had enough."

"Tea is nice."

She took a deep breath and tried to get round him.
 
He moved in front of her.
 
She could taste the fear in her mouth.

His penis bulged beneath his trousers.
 
The wind.
The wind, a mantra inside her.

She moved suddenly to her left.
 
He moved with her.
 
Then to the right with the same result.
 
There seemed to be no escape.
 
He took a step nearer.
 
She backed into the sink.

The door to the kitchen opened and Irma came in, followed seconds later by Sam Wong, her husband.
 
"What's the trouble?" he asked.

Latisha didn't wait for Larson to reply.
 
She slipped around him and ran down the main hall to the auditorium.

Gilmore stood by the liquor table with Rodriguez.
 
"Gilmore," she said, "I have to talk to you."

"Come meet Rodriguez, Latisha.
 
I've been looking all over for you."

She raised her voice.
 
"I have to talk to you now.
 
Get your parka and come outside."

"Okay, excuse me, Rodriguez."

Latisha caught the look Gilmore gave Rodriguez: You know how these women are.

"Can we meet inside?
 
It's raining out there."

"No.
 
I want to go outside."

"Okay, okay.
Chill out."

She turned and stormed outside, grabbing her parka on the way.
 
The wind from the west whipped at her face.

A minute, two minutes.
 
Damn him.
No doubt he was putting on his parka, but talking to a half dozen people on the way.

She could feel her skin tightening as the wind beat on her face.
  
In front of her lay the overturned truck. That's what Gilmore needed - a sharp blow to wake him up.
 
A williwaw.

He came out, shivering in the cold rain.
 
"Can we go inside and discuss this, Latisha?
 
It's insane out here."

"No."

"What's the matter, Latisha?
 
Just a few hours ago we had tea and . . . "

"Go to hell, Gilmore.
 
I asked for a house and you have me living in a house of prostitution.
 
Everybody else here has a house.
 
I wanted neighbors and you won't even introduce me.
 
You promised me safety, then you hire a sex killer as your security man."

He folded his arms.
  
Damn him!
He was trying to think his way through this new problem.
 
Didn't he know she wanted his arms around her?
 
Larson had scared her.
 
She wasn't just an administrative problem.

"What happened, Latisha?"

"Larson scared me."

"What did he do?"

"He scared me, isn't that enough to know?
 
He had me trapped in the kitchen and he started to - his penis was sticking out.
I thought he was going to rape me."

He tried to take her hand, but she pushed him away.
 
"I know you're upset and I'm going to warn him severely and - "

"Fire him."

"I plan to as soon as I can find a replacement."

"You're hopeless, Gilmore."

"No.
 
I'm not.
 
I love you."
 
He pointed back to the building.
 
"I'm doing all this for you."

"I'm leaving you," she said.
 
Good.
That felt good, just like the williwaw.
A sudden sharp blow.

He looked shocked.
"You can't leave until March."

"I can leave right now, Gilmore.
 
And I'm going to.
 
I may have to live on Adak, but I don't have to live with you. Goodbye."

She walked away from the shelter of the building and turned toward Bering Hill where Maggie lived.
 
The fierce wind felt good as it beat on her face.