Prisoners of the Williwaw (26 page)
"Take charge," he repeated.
She pressed her hand down on his.
"Take charge of the council, of Larson, of Doc, of the election, of the next three hundred, of…."
She hesitated, then said, "…of Gilmore."
He looked into her eyes.
He felt the warmth of her hand on top of his.
In his mind he added another take charge:
Take charge of your feelings.
She took her hand from his, reached over and held his medallion in her hand.
She smiled.
"Imitate the wind. Blow where you will."
She let go of the medallion and he felt it bang into his chest.
She placed her hands on the table by her place.
He reached over and took her hands in his.
He stared at her with the eyes of love and she looked back the same way.
Suddenly he sensed someone standing by their table.
It was Judy.
"So.
The great Frank Villa.
This is what you do all day."
He took his hands off Latisha's.
"You snake. You bastard."
She spat out her words, her face burning.
Latisha
stood.
"I'll see you, Frank."
"Bitch," Judy hurled after her.
Latisha kept going.
Judy turned back to Frank.
He felt terrible. What could he ever do to repair this damage?
If things were bleak before, they were worse now.
Frank saw Jeannie and Sam Wong standing by the kitchen door, obviously to see what all the shouting was about.
"I see how busy you are, Frank Villa. You tell me you're running this island, but really you're dallying with your black whore."
Frank stood, his face defiant, his voice deadly quiet.
"She's not a whore."
But the sight of Judy's face close-up immediately ended his defiance.
He had hurt this woman.
There were tears in her eyes.
What could he do?
How to take charge, to use Latisha's words?
Judy slammed the palm of her hand on the table.
"This is the thanks I get for coming to this wet hell."
She slapped the table again.
"You can just sleep in your office tonight, Frank Villa."
And then she was gone.
Judy had ordered him out of her bed, he, Frank Villa, the one who had argued in front of Congress that putting a man back with his family would cure him of his criminality.
And here it was that he couldn't keep his own marriage together.
Doc could advise him. Frank knew that, despite all the bombast, Doc and Hanna really cared for each other.
He walked back down the hill to Doc's clinic. The strange weather continued with intense storms, then sudden streaks of sunlight, but now with the addition of wind. Luckily, as he walked down the hill,
it blew on his back.
In the clinic Hanna alone was on duty.
"Can't disturb him now, Frank."
She pointed to the back, toward their living quarters.
"He's back there trying to get his erection up over two inches."
She laughed.
"No, actually, he's sleeping.
I insisted.
I'll tell him you stopped."
Frank left. Work.
That's what he'd do.
He'd go back to his office and work.
Keeping busy was the way to solve one's problems.
As he set out an eagle swooped over his head, followed by another. He stopped to watch them.
Even eagles had trouble flying in a straight line on Adak. On fall evenings in prison he would see Canadian geese fly overhead in their 'V' formation.
The prison lay next to a large swamp where the geese rested on their journey south.
For him they symbolized freedom as they flew over the prison walls.
He looked to the north where the snowy tops of the mountains caught a few rays of sunshine that had broken through the rolling clouds.
The mountain tops
shone pink.
This really was a wonderful place and worth fighting for.
Despite the problems, he was a free man.
He imagined Williwaw lurking in the shadows of those mountains, waiting to do damage. Who was this strange god?
Was he just a trickster, reminding people how powerless they were? Or was he a jealous, evil god, anxious to drive all human beings into the sea?
Frank shrugged at his own superstition. Williwaw was a figment of Aleut imagination.
Weather science explained strong winds, differences in atmospheric pressure and all that.
At the bottom of the 'U' as he started up the hill, he faced into the wind, which had grown stronger now.
Every step was an effort.
The wind sliced into his face and blew into the crevices of his parka to find his warm flesh. He shivered.
One step after another.
Upward.
On and on.
No matter what happened, he had to go on.
As he approached the Marine Barracks he saw someone else standing in the wind.
He couldn't make out who it was, because the effort to look straight into the wind was too difficult. Besides the person faced into the wind.
A black garbage bag had wrapped itself around the person's leg, but they ignored it.
He got nearer.
Judy.
"Judy," he called out.
She turned and… smiled.
"Let's go inside," he said.
Frank held the door for her.
Had she forgiven him?
He was going to change now.
He would spend more time with her - a lot more.
She took off her parka.
Her red cheeks, bitten by the wind, made her face glow. Her eyes, almost shut against the wind's assault, opened wide.
She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her.
He took her hand.
"Judy, I can't tell you how sorry I am."
"I know, Frank."
His heart swelled.
She was forgiving him.
"I'm gonna change, Judy."
She nodded, and murmured, "Uh-huh," but it wasn't very convincing.
"Frank, I just spent a half-hour out in the wind.
It blew into me, blew through me, forced me to think."
She glanced in the darkened window and used it to fluff her hair, misshapen by being confined in the hood of her parka. "The thing is, Frank, I've been a success.
I've made it on my own.
I've raised a son and held down an important job at Gold's.
Maybe Wal-Mart needs a manager. I've bought a house and fixed it up and paid the taxes.
I'm a success, Frank."
"I know."
He reached out to take her hand, but she ignored it, straightening her sweater in the dark window.
"No offense, Frank, but I don't need you.
You're a good person and you're doing what's right for you, but it's not for me."
"But I need you."
"No, you don't Frank.
Let's be honest with each other. You probably need that Latisha person. She seems gung-ho for this place."
Even Judy saying her name stirred him.
He probably was in love with Latisha.
Judy put her hand on Frank's arm.
"Let's have a cup of tea and talk. Come on."
She led him into the kitchen and busied herself with making tea in the narrow kitchen.
He sat down at the small table and watched her.
As she waited for the water to boil, she turned toward him, her back to the stove.
"See, I always thought I wasn't a success, because my man wasn't with me.
Somehow, I was incomplete.
But I'm me.
I'm Judy Villa.
No, I'm Judy Haspert."
She poured the hot water into the tea pot and then put the kettle back on the stove.
"You know, Frank, now that I think of it, I don't think Reverend Ellsworth thinks I'm a success, either.
But I am."
"I'm sure he does."
She sat down at the table.
"No, he treats me, he treats everybody like we're children."
But the Reverend was not his concern.
What did it mean that she used her maiden name?
He reached across the table and put his hand on hers.
"Things are gonna get better here.
We're just beginning."
She pulled her hand from under his.
"You and I?
No, Frank.
It's taken me some time to realize this, but the best we can hope for is friends."
"Just friends?"
"That's a lot.
You're gonna have your hands full here, Frank.
Rapists and killers and three hundred more coming.
Brrrrr." She shook herself in a fearful way.
"We're going to get control."
"You'll never get control of this weather. It's not for me, Frank."
Neither said anything for a minute.
Then he said, "I couldn't have come here without you.
I'm really grateful for that."
She nodded.
"You know, Frank, you've never seen my little house.
I've got a little kitchen with red and white curtains.
When my friend, Susie, comes over we sit in the kitchen and have tea.
We go bowling together. She lost her job, too, but she's surviving.
"That was a good life, Frank.
I thought I could have something better coming here with you.
But I can't.
I think I should go back.
I'm going to apply at
Wal-Mart
."
"Wait," Frank said, holding up his hand, "I -"
"No.
It's over, Frank.
Let's face the facts."
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. "I really appreciate you coming here.
Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"People can adapt, you know.
We could make it work."
"Why, Frank?
It's not what I want and it's not what you want."
He said nothing. The minutes passed.
Finally he said, "You've been a good mother."
"Thank you, Frank.
Let's part friends.
I'm sorry for what I said this afternoon.
You sleep here in the living room and I'll take the bedroom until I leave."
"Will you - will you tell Frank Jr. some good things about me?"
She smiled.
"I will, Frank, I will. There's a lot to tell."
Frank filled his coffee cup in the Bering Cafeteria, paid Jeannie Dickinson two dollars and took his coffee to drink it by the window. The last thing on his mind was this primary election, but here it was - the results.
Behind him Blanche Carvinere had commandeered three tables and was counting the paper ballots.
Frank sipped the coffee.
It was bitter as usual.
Outside he heard the wind whistling around the edges of the building. Though it was too dark to see anything, he heard bits of stone and dirt strike the building.
He'd never been elected to anything in his life and right up to that morning, Doc kept telling him what a lousy job he was doing as a politician.
Last night they had a debate in the council meeting room, a debate that seven - only seven - people attended.
Gilmore accused him of taxing everyone to death and of not being tough on law and order. Gilmore claimed that Frank had allowed Larson to run free and had made no serious effort to catch him. Further, Gilmore charged that Frank had not given Nelson the Plumber the resources he needed.
According to Gilmore, if he were elected, everyone would have indoor plumping before spring.
Gilmore even hinted that he, Frank, had made a deal with the Bureau of Prisons to take hard core prisoners on Adak in exchange for a reduction in his own sentence.
Frank ignored Doc's suggestions to attack Gilmore.
Instead he gave a passionate talk on the failure of prisons to teach men how to live in the modern world and how Adak was built on the twin ideas of respect and democracy.
Doc's comment, after the debate, was, "Thank God, there were only seven people there."
"Villa, three.
Gilmore, one."
Blanche counted out loud and put the ballots on a pile as she did.. "Villa, one.
Gilmore, two." And so on.
Frank listened with only half his attention.
If people voted him out, that would mean Big Jim and Boss Gilmore would face each other in the general election. And it would mean that people wanted leaders who promised an easy life.
"Go, Frank, go," Doc called out.
Doc and Hanna sat at a table near him, while across the room Gilmore and Big Jim Harris waited for the results.
For him, Frank, life would be a lot simpler without running this island.
He could read and he could teach, and maybe, someday, somehow there would be someone special for him, though at present he couldn't see how that might happen.
Judy was going home and Latisha planned to leave.
How could there ever be anyone for him?
He took another sip of coffee. At least he wasn't behind bars.
If he won this primary and then the general election, crisis after crisis would fill his days.
When the next three hundred came, he'd have to watch Gilmore carefully for takeover plans
No matter who won, he had established the name of the contest and that name was democracy.
Hopefully it would last.
"I have the results here," Blanche said, rapping one of her wooden ballot boxes on the table.
George Washington
- 1
Bugs Bunny
- 1
Doc Raymond
- 1
"He voted for himself," Hanna called out.
"I did not.
It was probably you."
Blanche rapped the table again and continued:
Jim Harris
- 54
James Gilmore
- 157
Frank Villa
- 215
The people had affirmed him.
But…but… he added Big Jim's numbers and Gilmore's numbers in his head. 54 plus 157 was 211.
Compare that to his 215.
Big Jim's voters would be more inclined to vote Gilmore than him. Was there a way to get Big Jim to support him?
To win the general election, he had work to do.
Blanche announced that the voter turnout was about 75 percent and she credited that to her policy of letting people vote at work.
Doc slapped him on the back.
"We did it, Frank.
Now for the general election.
Let's go have a drink to celebrate."
Frank looked at Doc in a surprised way.
"A drink?
Where?"
"Gilmore's, of course.
Only place we can get a drink."
Frank looked to see if Gilmore had left.
He had.
"You're crazy, Doc.
That's like the Greeks walking into Troy."
"My point, exactly.
It's real in-your-face to walk right in there."
Hanna joined in.
"Frank, you have to understand. This is one of Doc's sweaty fantasies.
He thinks Gilmore's hos are all in love with him."
Actually, Frank thought, it wasn't such a bad idea.
When the new cons came, if he and Gilmore presented a united front, even a limited united front,
there would be a lot less trouble.
Frank motioned toward Big Jim.
He stood by the ballot table, arguing with Blanche.
"I want to talk to Big Jim," Frank said.
As he approached them, Blanche slammed her hand onto one stack of ballots.
"What do you find so hard to believe, you big ox?
54 people voted
for you. That's all.
These people aren't dumb."
Frank stuck out his hand to Big Jim.
"Nice race, Jim."
Jim wasn't very enthusiastic. "Yeah, thanks, Villa."
"I'd like your support in the general election, Jim."
The big man blinked a few times, then Frank saw the lights coming on.
"What's it worth to you, Villa?"
What could he possibly promise this man?
Certainly not what he wanted most - women.
Frank reproached himself mentally.
He hadn't thought this out thoroughly.
"I don't know, Jim, I think sports are pretty important.
A lot of guys can work off a lot of piss with a good boxing match or a knock-down game of football.
How would you like to be sports coordinator?"
"What's the pay?"
"Hey, Jim, you know our financial situation."
Jim sneered.
"Yeah, sure.
We'll see what Gilmore offers."
He turned and left the cafeteria.
As he went out, Nelson came in and asked who won.
When Blanche told him, he said, "Congratulations, Frank.
Now where is Gilmore?
I want to hear first hand what he said at that debate last night and I think I want him to publicly retract it.
No way in hell we could have indoor plumbing by spring unless Uncle Sam suddenly bought me lots of pipe and plumbers to install it."
"So, there you are, Frank," Doc said.
"Nelson wants to see him, too.
Let's all go to Gilmore's."
"Good idea," Nelson said.
"A large volume of liquid under pressure can often clear an obstruction in the line."
"See that, Frank?" Doc said.
"That explains everything."
*
*
*
Forty-five minutes later, Frank, Nelson,
Doc and Hanna entered the Sea Otter.
The last time he had been here, Frank had gone immediately to Gilmore's office to demand that he turn Larson over.
He hadn't really looked through the place.
Now he scrutinized every room for any sign of Larson,
the entranceway, the auditorium, the offices, and the kitchen.
No Larson.
Doc led the way into the lounge part of the Sea Otter.
Frank stood at the doorway, but before he knew it, Doc had ordered a bottle of whiskey and four glasses and put them on one of the round wooden tables in the bar.
"Come on, Frank, join us," he said.
Doc poured a round and before anybody had done anything but sip their drink, Doc was ready for another.
"Easy there, Mighty Mouse," Hanna cautioned.
Doc stood up and said in a loud voice, "Now a round for the house on Boss Gilmore to celebrate Frank Villa's victory in the primary."
The bartender just stood there.
"All right," Doc said and poured himself a generous shot, "Here's a toast to Boss Gilmore, Adak citizen of the year."
Frank noticed Gilmore standing in the doorway.
He picked up his drink and walked over to him.
Frank saw the wary look in Gilmore's eye, like a snake was coming at him.
Frank motioned to a nearby table.
"Time to talk, Gilmore."
Gilmore stared at him for a minute, then spoke in a clipped, angry tone.
"Yeah, Villa, what should we talk about?
Wife stealing?"
Frank knew that was coming.
He let out a breath of air and motioned again to the table.
"Let's talk about the future."
Gilmore checked behind himself as if Frank had a man behind him, then sat in the chair nearest the wall. "What about the future?" Gilmore asked.
"When the new guys come, I think we should stand together. No matter which of us wins the election, we've got to support the council.
We're both on it."
"Sure thing, Villa.
Support your council."
"It's our council."
"Sure thing."
"If we have anarchy, you won't make any money."
"What do you know about making money, Villa?"
Latisha's words came to him again.
Take charge. Take charge of Gilmore
.
He had tried, but the man was impossible.
Frank slammed the table with his hand, spilling his whiskey glass.
"I'm warning you, Gilmore.
Any takeover attempt is liable to bounce back on you.
You organize the new cons to knock me over, the idea gets in their heads that they can knock you over.
If the two of us support the democratic process…."
Gilmore waved his hand, as if to rid himself of Frank's words.
"Democratic process… give me a break, Villa.
You forget you're dealing with convicts.
And that was mighty good whiskey you spilled."
Gilmore stood up, a mocking grin on his face.
"Just a minute, Gilmore."
Nelson the Plumber stood up.
"What did you say the other night?"
Frank waited to hear Gilmore's answer, but he didn't have a chance. Joe Britt burst into the lounge. "Frank. It's Mrs. Robinson.
Her two boys have been missing since this afternoon and there may be a williwaw."