Nehalem (Place People Live). Hap Tivey

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СКАЧАТЬ as a friend. You can go to Astoria if you’d rather, but you only save an hour driving. You’ll get half the money, but I’d rather you get half the money than get caught in Portland.”

      John climbed in behind the wheel. “I’m OK.”

      Billy held the door open for a moment. “I’d go, but I want to see how Maggie’s doing.”

      John looked directly at Billy with a note of mutual concern in his voice. “I’m OK. You watch yourself.”

      Billy laughed and swung the door shut. “Good, cause I’d probably fall asleep and unload these fish in the forest.”

      John rolled the window down. “Go see Maggie. Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Tell her to get Cedar and go to Aunt Sue. Tell her don’t stay at the trailer.”

      In a quieter tone Billy added. “Come back early. I’ll take care of Maggie.” He backed away from the cab and asked. “What about the rest of that net? What did Sven say?”

      “Net’s too big. Says we should strip it off the jetties in one piece. He’s gonna pull it part way and hook heavy lines on it. They’re gonna haul it up the launch with trucks. Whole town’s gonna get fish.”

      “What trucks?”

      “Radio said log trucks are coming.”

      Billy came back to the cab window. “You think Lester’s coming?”

      “Lester’s gonna get drunk. Blame Maggie, if she stays in the trailer.”

      Billy tensed. “How do you know that?”

      John maintained his unwavering calm voice, but his eyes narrowed. “Lester’s gone bad, just like Maggie’s dad. He’s gonna blame her, probably beat her. Started last year. She won’t take help, even from me.”

      Billy stretched his fingers and looked down at his hands. “Not today. That’s not happening today.”

      “Go see Maggie. Tell her what I told you.”

      Billy looked back at John and nodded. “I’ll take care of Hecate and go to the trailer. I’ll need your bike. You got the key?”

      “Don’t need a key. My bike’s protected.”

      Billy flashed an amused smile. “Well my key goes in your pocket when you get to Portland, not the ignition. This is the eighties and my truck’s damn near new. Get these kids home and come back to the boat.”

      John started the engine. “I’m Ok. Eagles are watching tonight. All night.”

      11AM: Boat Launch

      Crowds filled the harbor boat ramp. Two log tractors, hooked to inch and half hawsers, pulled a section of net up the ramp fifty yards and parked while the crowd emptied the contents into wheelbarrows, buckets and bags. Once empty, they dragged it aside making room for the trucks to back down the ramp and park again, while grappling hooks were reset for another extraction. Rumors of a get rich free-for-all brought dozens of locals down to the harbor and vehicles packed the streets leading to the ramp. When Murphy returned from the clinic, he found a temporary barricade of day glow orange sawhorses blocking the street from the highway down to the harbor. A couple of old timers pulled one away and waved him in. They directed traffic informally, opening the barricade to allow loaded cars out and empty ones in, as space allowed. His street had transformed into a parking lot with a steady stream of people carrying sacks and coolers of booty from the pirate net to their vehicles. He parked beside the barricade on one side and flipped the lights on. It gave the barrier an official look. He waved to his spontaneous deputies and walked down toward the semi-organized delirium that intoxicated the town with the spirits of unexpected treasure.

      When he reached his office he could see the extent of the crowd and the festival atmosphere on the ramp. Glass slumped in his doorway. Sammy’s board stood on its tail leaning against the wall. Murphy sat down on the sidewalk beside him with his back against the building and they watched the spectacle in silence for a few minutes before he said anything. “I’m going to Astoria to talk to Amato about this net. Billy thinks a factory ship lost it. I think we can find out who did this.”

      Glass shook his head. “Not from Amato.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      Exhaustion tempered his volume, but not his apparent disgust. “His head is twisted. Anybody closes a break like river mouth has sand for grey matter. Nobody ever got hurt there, before this. And whose fault is that? Not the ocean. Not surfers. That was pure meanness.”

      “I don’t know his reasons, but even if he made a bad choice there, why would that stop him from helping us find the people responsible for this?”

      “He doesn’t give a shit about people here, especially fishermen. He’s in some other universe. And me and Sammy aren’t in it.”

      Responding to Glass’ emotional pain, Murphy dropped the problem of Amato’s attitude and turned to face him. “I expect Sammy’s fine wherever he is. And I would like to see you stick around my universe. I don’t want to miss seeing you in perfect overhead tubes off north jetty. You’re the best we have in this town.”

      “That’s over.”

      “This is a bad time Rich.” Murphy stood up and looked out at the harbor. “Maybe you should wait for Billy down on Hecate. I know he wanted to talk to you, thank you for saving his ass.”

      Glass looked up. “Did he say that?”

      Murphy turned and offered Glass a hand. “Just talked to him at the clinic. Crash aboard Hecate. You look like you could use some sleep.”

      Glass accepted the hand up. “I probably can’t get my camper out till tomorrow. Is it cool sitting on the jetty all night?”

      “Keys in it?”

      “On the tire.”

      “No problem. If I have an emergency I’ll move it.”

      Glass started for the harbor and Murphy called after him. “What about the board?”

      Glass stopped and thought for a moment. “If Maggie doesn’t want it, trash it.”

      Murphy called after him. “Lester’s coming by later.”

      Without looking back Glass muttered. “Screw Lester.”

      2 PM: Lester’s Trailer

      Thirty years of derelict pickups had accumulated along the driveway, some with missing engines or transmissions, most up on blocks and all rusting into the blackberries and ferns. Ten acres of third growth timber surrounded the trailer. Except for fresh tire tracks and the mailbox lying in the gravel beside the county road, the drive looked like any abandoned logging track that hunters maintained for seasonal camps. The front of the trailer developed into a large screen porch with attached woodshed and recently repaired steps. A neat vegetable garden with flowers was the only island of order in a chaotic jumble of useless machinery, broken appliances and dead chain saws. The shape of the chain link fence surrounding it suggested that it might have once served as a dog run, but morning glory and sweet pea transformed the galvanized links into СКАЧАТЬ