Ravens. Part 17

"You have a picture of his car? You got an outside camera?"

Mr. Hu tried another tape. It was from a camera focused on the pumps - but during the time in question, there was no car to be seen. This wasn't surprising though - McBride hadn't come for gas. He'd have been parked over by the air pump.

But Burris and Mr. Hu did get a glimpse of something something pa.s.sing through the frame and driving out of the lot. Blurry and inconclusive but it might have been McBride's car. Sedan. Kind of boxy. pa.s.sing through the frame and driving out of the lot. Blurry and inconclusive but it might have been McBride's car. Sedan. Kind of boxy.

Burris shook his head. "OK. You can turn it off now."

Mr. Hu complied.

"Hey, aren't you getting some money for this? For selling the winning ticket?"

"No money," said Mr. Hu. He smiled some more.

Said Burris, "I thought the store that sells the ticket was supposed to make a lot of money."

"No for me. I just manager."

His grin was not rueful at all, but truly content. He seemed quite pleased to be taking no part of this pie - altogether pleased that winged megafortune had chosen to alight on some other poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d's shoulder, and not his.

Shaw went with Mitch to visit this big financial guy, Henry Lonsdale. Lonsdale lived in a parvenu mansion in the Black Banks neighborhood of St. Simon's Island. Tabby walls and cold beetling balconies, windows of smoked gla.s.s. From the driveway you were led by the maid beneath a columned pergola to the 'office', which had a twenty-foot-high vestibule. One wall was adorned with trophies and plaques for ba.s.s-fis.h.i.+ng prowess. went with Mitch to visit this big financial guy, Henry Lonsdale. Lonsdale lived in a parvenu mansion in the Black Banks neighborhood of St. Simon's Island. Tabby walls and cold beetling balconies, windows of smoked gla.s.s. From the driveway you were led by the maid beneath a columned pergola to the 'office', which had a twenty-foot-high vestibule. One wall was adorned with trophies and plaques for ba.s.s-fis.h.i.+ng prowess.

Lonsdale came in and introduced himself. Shaw asked him, "You really won the Ba.s.smaster Southern Open?"

"Which one? Oh, yes. '06."

"Wow. What'd you haul?"

Lonsdale shrugged. "Oh, I think 59, 3. Something like that."

"G.o.d. What were you throwing?"

"Well, I started spinner but swimbait filled my bag. If memory serves I used a King Shad."

"That's soft?"

"That's a hardbody. It all depends on your throw. I saw you on TV, Mr. McBride. I take it you like to fish?"

"Just, well, up in Ohio. Where I'm from. Never largemouth. I'd love to cast for largemouth."

"Well, there's not a lot of that action here on the coast. But I'll gladly take you jigging for redfish, if you'd like."

"I would like that very much."

It was plain that fis.h.i.+ng was Lonsdale's pa.s.sion in life. He told Shaw he didn't do finance full-time anymore. "A few clients, just to keep my hand in," he said, imperially.

At the man's great stone desk, three factotums awaited. Banker, Accountant, Lawyer. They all wore s.h.i.+mmery suits, and looked you in the eye when they shook your hand, and imagined they were big movers and shakers. But Henry Lonsdale in his tennis shoes and chinos outcla.s.sed them easily. While they chattered amongst themselves, he flopped into his chair behind the desk and took up the twelve-page memo of understanding, and leafed through it - and then when he was ready, he simply launched. It was a joy to witness. The way he just shredded shredded the thing. Slicing out one phrase and transplanting another, X-ing out extraneous dross, peppering the poor fools with questions and complaints, brooking no dissent and contemptuous of any hesitation. What a show! Shaw, transfixed, said not a word but once or twice he laughed out loud. And only after the thing seemed to have been settled to everyone's satisfaction did he dare to inquire: the thing. Slicing out one phrase and transplanting another, X-ing out extraneous dross, peppering the poor fools with questions and complaints, brooking no dissent and contemptuous of any hesitation. What a show! Shaw, transfixed, said not a word but once or twice he laughed out loud. And only after the thing seemed to have been settled to everyone's satisfaction did he dare to inquire: "Oh, Henry. By the way. Do you think I could have some cash?"

Smiles all around. Lonsdale finally saying, "Cash?"

Shaw nodded. "I could use a little bit of cash."

"Shaw. It'll all all be cash." be cash."

"It will?"

"The whole shebang. What we're talking about is getting you out out of cash the moment it lands - and into securities, into long-term investments, so you can start earning some return on your capital-" of cash the moment it lands - and into securities, into long-term investments, so you can start earning some return on your capital-"

"But I want to start giving it away."

"So I understand," said Mr. Lonsdale. "But you know, we'll need to set up a foundation -"

"I don't want a foundation. There isn't time."

"There isn't? Why not?"

"Because the world is coming to an end."

How gravely and stupidly they took in his words. The Banker, the Accountant, the Lawyer: they all had the mien of grieving cattle. Shaw broke into a wide grin. "Look at you guys!"

Still the grave faces.

"I'm kid kid-ding."

And then, one by one, they began to chuckle.

"No rush at all," he a.s.sured them. "And hey, can I tell you something? You know how I said on that TV show that I'm giving it all away? Well. Slight correction. Not all all of it." of it."

More laughter, which grew quickly into barks and wheezes of relief. Understandably, thought Shaw: the thought of me giving away my fortune must have seemed an insult to their very natures. Shaw waited patiently for the laughter to fade. Then he said: "But I really could use a bit of spending money."

"Of course," said Lonsdale. "We'll keep a few million liquid. Will that do you?"

"Great."

"Say, five million? Enough for now?"

"Perfect. And when will all this come in?"

Lonsdale turned to the Banker. "Dave?"

"I'm expecting it to land by Tuesday. If we get everything signed today."

"Well, that's wonderful," said Shaw. "That's sooner than I thought. That's just great. Thank you all very much."

Said Henry Lonsdale, "Tell you what. When it does. .h.i.t? Let's celebrate with a little redfis.h.i.+ng."

Tara was in her room, listening to Trevor the spooky ex-soldier organize the world. He'd set up his card-table office right outside her window, and all day he'd been out there snapping commands: planning the kitchen, laying out the camp, negotiating with the cops and with the neighbors. Tomorrow the pilgrims would have to move, but for tonight he'd made a deal with the neighbors, and they could stay. was in her room, listening to Trevor the spooky ex-soldier organize the world. He'd set up his card-table office right outside her window, and all day he'd been out there snapping commands: planning the kitchen, laying out the camp, negotiating with the cops and with the neighbors. Tomorrow the pilgrims would have to move, but for tonight he'd made a deal with the neighbors, and they could stay.

He was good at all this stuff, a natural vizier vizier. She hated him. The sound of his voice grated on her. But where else could she go? Mom was in the kitchen and Shaw in the living room, and the pilgrims had the house surrounded, and if she went outside for an instant they'd mob her.

So she stayed there. She tried to read: she couldn't. She tried to watch Before Night Falls, Before Night Falls, the movie where JCD Jr. was so stunning as Bon Bon the transvest.i.te - but his profile brought up thoughts of Shaw. She killed it. She tried listening to music on headphones but they made her feel too isolated, too vulnerable. the movie where JCD Jr. was so stunning as Bon Bon the transvest.i.te - but his profile brought up thoughts of Shaw. She killed it. She tried listening to music on headphones but they made her feel too isolated, too vulnerable.

She went online. She looked through the hundreds of new comments on her Mys.p.a.ce page.

Tara I think you're beautiful and I would like to be just like you. I think Shaw McBride is a dream. You're not lucky, you're blessed.

Another wrote: You're a sign to all of us that the Lord is 'with us' and watching over us.

Another wrote: i watch u on the video when u win the lotery, and I love u and want u to be my wife.

She scrolled through them. She didn't answer.

On her photo alb.u.m was the CRUNK POSSE!, that shot of her and Clio and Cindy and Jennera when they were so drunk and stoned at Rafters. Someone had written: GAWD YU GIRLZ IZ SMOKKIN!!

Wasn't that the night she had kissed James? And thought she wanted to marry him? There was a pic of the two of them at the Arcade Fire concert: he looked like a kid. G.o.d. They both looked like kids. And this photograph was taken six months ago?

She stayed away from pictures of Nell.

Shaw came to visit. He knocked politely. She murmured, "Yeah," and he came and sat in the camp chair and asked her, "So what do you think?"

"About what?"

"This great adventure."

She looked away from him.

He said, "Romeo thinks you're not scared of him."

"I am."

"If he goes off, he'll go off like a banshee. You don't want to test him."

"OK."

"There was a guy once back in Ohio who made the mistake of insulting us. We just ruined ruined his head. We tore him to bits, and he didn't even know who was doing it. He thought we were his friends. Romeo took him for a walk one time, so the poor guy could talk about his problems. They went up on the railroad bridge. You know what happened up there?" his head. We tore him to bits, and he didn't even know who was doing it. He thought we were his friends. Romeo took him for a walk one time, so the poor guy could talk about his problems. They went up on the railroad bridge. You know what happened up there?"

She shook her head.

He smiled. "I don't either. But next day they found the guy's body down on the rocks. With his brains smashed out. Suicide. Do not ever ever test Romeo's love for me." test Romeo's love for me."

She kept her eyes low, but she knew he was staring at her.

He said, "I know how scary this is for you. But it's also so f.u.c.king exciting. We're going to bring beauty to this world. Beauty like you've never dreamed of."

"Yes."

He said, "Look at me."

She met his gaze. "It will be worth the struggle," he said. "I swear to you."

Romeo took a right off 17 onto Belle Point Road, then a left at Indian Mound Road. He cruised past Uncle Shelby's. The took a right off 17 onto Belle Point Road, then a left at Indian Mound Road. He cruised past Uncle Shelby's. The snap snap whip whip snap snap whip whip of sprinklers, and there was Shelby himself in the driveway, vacuuming the Escalade. of sprinklers, and there was Shelby himself in the driveway, vacuuming the Escalade.

Romeo thought, I bet I could work up some hate for this this guy. guy.

Not just on account of the n.a.z.i landscaping but also because he's vacuuming his car on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Wasting a Sat.u.r.day afternoon on such cinch-up-your-a.n.u.s bulls.h.i.+t. Wasting a Sat.u.r.day afternoon on such cinch-up-your-a.n.u.s bulls.h.i.+t.

If I got to know him, I'm sure I could come to detest him. Then if I had to I could kill him.

He drove down to the end of Seahorse Drive, turned around and came back. Pulled into the driveway. In his pocket he still had the leaflet that Tess had given him, from her Church of Jesus Triumphant, and as he emerged from the car he took it out and handed it to Shelby. "Hi, there. You got the word on Jesus?"

This only peeved the man.

"Son, I'm a deacon at Faith Renewal. I don't need this."

Offering it back. Romeo thought the visit was going well. The guy was a puffed-up jacka.s.s, and that stirred a small resentment in Romeo's heart. He just needed to give this a little juice. Maybe if he got a look inside the house?

"Sir, you wouldn't have anything I could drink, would you? Gla.s.s of lemonade?"

"I think we're out of lemonade," said Shelby. His look said, Enough. Go away now. Enough. Go away now.

"Not even powdered or something? How about water?"

Thinking, you're a Christian, Shelby: you can't deny a poor pa.s.serby a drink of water.

"All right. Hold on."

He meant for Romeo to wait outside. But Romeo followed him right into the garage. Skateboards hung on hooks near the back door, with badminton rackets, lacrosse rackets, skis. Said Romeo, "You guys are so sporty."

As Shelby opened the kitchen door, a golden retriever commenced a low woofing. Shelby called, "MacKenzie! Come hold Lucky. We've got a visitor."

A little girl, radiant and ringletted, came and grabbed the dog by the collar.

Romeo followed Shelby into the kitchen. What a paradise! Earth-tone tiles and seash.e.l.l lighting and Old Testament magnets on the refrigerator door. "Hey Dad," came a boy's voice from the great room, "you should see the approach Sergio just hit. Oh man, he nailed it. With a three-iron. Six yards from the hole."

"Darn," said Shelby. "How's Phil doing?"

"Phil's out of it."

"Darn."

The little girl was staring at Romeo.

Her father told her, "MacKenzie, would you please give this man a gla.s.s of water?"

Romeo said, "MacKenzie. That's a beautiful name." He took the gla.s.s from her and drank. The lovely cascading void.

"Thank you," he said.