Along Gran Bay Boulevard they had knocked down the corrugated tin and plywood shack affectionately know as Dick’s Bait and Beer and built houses on sandy fill over the sub-divided marsh.
The developer thought the name Gran Bay gave the suburban access road some class.
Never mind that the new boulevard ended where it met Rufus Road. That was where the well-scrubbed residents roamed the environs around the Shoppes of Smelt Cove. Until last year, those same residents roared through the area as fast as possible, not wanting to breath the rot of fish from the tidal basins or see the hard-scrabble existence of the locals who sat in front of clapboard cabins at the Smelt Cove Inn Motel.
The motel is gone; in its place the strip of shoppe-fronts with fresh paint await the fate of their kind. Smelt Cove was now on the map, a desirable address, where the well scrubbed, well heeled can get away from the bustle of the city. In truth, Smelt Cove had always been on the map, it was just that the well heeled had avoided the mosquito infested bog unless they were slumming, looking to buy pot or illicit sex or wanted to get their ass kicked by one of the bikers that hung out at Dick’s Bait.
Harvey kept looking from the corner of his eye, instead of turning his head. The parking lot was full and his car might go unnoticed. He was sure they would be looking for a gold Buick, or at least a gold car. Along Highway One-Eleven police cruisers streamed in both directions and made excursions up both Gran Bay and Rufus. If he got out of this with his skin, he’d give up drinking. Oh please God.
An ambulance screamed north headed for the hospital, Harvey had no doubt it carried the kid he had hit. He didn’t mean too, but she stepped into the crosswalk and he hadn’t seen her. His speed had carried him past the intersection and when he saw the body in the road he’d panicked. This was a world class ****-up, he was a candidate for mayor and the election was tomorrow. He’d wanted to celebrate and Mona offered the best afternoon of celebration in south bay.
“Sir” Harvey had been so intent on the street activity he hadn’t seen anyone approach. He reacted with a jolt, sat up straight and spun, to face a police officer.
“Who? Me?” Harvey pointed his finger at his own chest.
“Yes, sir, I need to speak to you, could you come with me?”
“What’s this about; I’m waiting for a friend”
“Sir, I’m going to have to insist.”
The officer motioned toward the lot where police cruisers corralled Harvey's Buick. A woman in a floral blouse repeatedly pointed from the car to Harvey.“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, it was an accident.” Harvey couldn’t generate the will to move, he was bolted to the bench as he searched for a logical answer to what had happened. “I, I, I didn’t…” he fell quite as the officer took his elbow and lifted him from the bench.
“Sir, come with me and we’ll have this sorted out in no time.” Harvey knew this wasn’t going to sort out, not now, not ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment