Read Online Miami Blues by Charles Willeford - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charles Willeford
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Still, I try not to carry more'n fifty dollars on me at a time."
"Tomorrow I'll get us some out-of-state plates we can switch. And tomorrow night I'd better get some Miami credit cards. I'll get some for you, too, some ladies' cards, so you can buy things when I'm not around."
There were thirty four-story condominium apartment buildings in the complex that made up Kendall Pines Terrace, but only six of the buildings had been completed and occupied. The other buildings were unpainted, windowless, concrete shells. Construction had been suspended for more than a year. Almost all of the apartments in the occupied buildings were empty. For the most part, their owners had purchased them at preconstruction prices during the real estate boom in 1979. But now, in fall 1982, construction prices had risen, and very few people could qualify for loans at 17 percent interest.
"There's been some vandalism out here," Susan said, when she parked in her numbered space in the vast and almost empty parking lot. "So they built a cyclone fence and hired a Cuban to drive around at night in a Jeep. That's stopped it. But sometimes, late at night, it's a little scary out here."
There was a tropical courtyard in the hollow square of Building Six--East. Broad-leaved plants had been packed in thickly around the five-globed light in the center of the patio, and cedar bark had been scattered generously around the plants. There was a pleasant tingle of cedar and night-blooming jasmine in the air.
Susan had a corner two-bedroom, two-bath apartment with a screened porch facing the Everglades. There was eggshell wall-to-wall carpet throughout the apartment, except for the kitchen, which had a linoleum floor in a white brick pattern. Both bathrooms had been tiled in blue and pink. The furniture in the living room was rattan, with blue-and-green-striped cushions. There was a large brass bed in the master bedroom. In the smaller bedroom, Susan's, there was a Bahama bed and a rattan desk. There were antique white Levolors in all of the windows, but no curtains or draperies.
While Freddy looked around the apartment, Susan got two San Miguel beers out of the refrigerator. She took Freddy out to the screened porch and pointed toward the dark Everglades.
"In the daytime you can see them, but not now. For the next four miles or so, those are all tomato and cucumber fields. Then you get to Krome Avenue, and beyond that it's the East Everglades--nothing but water and alligators. It gets too drowned with water to build on the other side of Krome, and Kendall Pines Terrace is the last complex in Kendall. Eventually, the rest of those fields will all be condos, because Kendall is the chicest neighborhood in Miami. But they won't be able to build anymore in the 'Glades unless they drain them."
"This apartment looks expensive."
"It is, for the girl that owns it. She put every cent she had into it, and then found out she couldn't afford to live here. She's just a legal secretary, so she had to rent it out, furniture and all. We only pay her four hundred a month rent, but she was glad to get it. She tried to sell or rent it for four months before we came along. Even with our four hundred, she still has to come up with another four-fifty every month."
"Where does she live now?"
"She had to move back with her parents in Hallandale, and she's twenty-five years old. I know how bad she feels. I'd never move back in with daddy. I'd rather die first."
"This is good beer."
"San Miguel dark. It's the best, and it comes all the way from the Philippine Islands. The man at Crown gets it for me. Of course, in addition to the four hundred a month, the electric bill comes to another two hundred."
"No shit?"
Susan nodded. "On account of the air conditioning. And it'll be going up again soon. The anchorette on Channel Ten said so last night. Without the money from Marty coming in, I don't think I can handle it. I'm worried."
"Don't be. We're engaged, so I'll take care of
"Tomorrow I'll get us some out-of-state plates we can switch. And tomorrow night I'd better get some Miami credit cards. I'll get some for you, too, some ladies' cards, so you can buy things when I'm not around."
There were thirty four-story condominium apartment buildings in the complex that made up Kendall Pines Terrace, but only six of the buildings had been completed and occupied. The other buildings were unpainted, windowless, concrete shells. Construction had been suspended for more than a year. Almost all of the apartments in the occupied buildings were empty. For the most part, their owners had purchased them at preconstruction prices during the real estate boom in 1979. But now, in fall 1982, construction prices had risen, and very few people could qualify for loans at 17 percent interest.
"There's been some vandalism out here," Susan said, when she parked in her numbered space in the vast and almost empty parking lot. "So they built a cyclone fence and hired a Cuban to drive around at night in a Jeep. That's stopped it. But sometimes, late at night, it's a little scary out here."
There was a tropical courtyard in the hollow square of Building Six--East. Broad-leaved plants had been packed in thickly around the five-globed light in the center of the patio, and cedar bark had been scattered generously around the plants. There was a pleasant tingle of cedar and night-blooming jasmine in the air.
Susan had a corner two-bedroom, two-bath apartment with a screened porch facing the Everglades. There was eggshell wall-to-wall carpet throughout the apartment, except for the kitchen, which had a linoleum floor in a white brick pattern. Both bathrooms had been tiled in blue and pink. The furniture in the living room was rattan, with blue-and-green-striped cushions. There was a large brass bed in the master bedroom. In the smaller bedroom, Susan's, there was a Bahama bed and a rattan desk. There were antique white Levolors in all of the windows, but no curtains or draperies.
While Freddy looked around the apartment, Susan got two San Miguel beers out of the refrigerator. She took Freddy out to the screened porch and pointed toward the dark Everglades.
"In the daytime you can see them, but not now. For the next four miles or so, those are all tomato and cucumber fields. Then you get to Krome Avenue, and beyond that it's the East Everglades--nothing but water and alligators. It gets too drowned with water to build on the other side of Krome, and Kendall Pines Terrace is the last complex in Kendall. Eventually, the rest of those fields will all be condos, because Kendall is the chicest neighborhood in Miami. But they won't be able to build anymore in the 'Glades unless they drain them."
"This apartment looks expensive."
"It is, for the girl that owns it. She put every cent she had into it, and then found out she couldn't afford to live here. She's just a legal secretary, so she had to rent it out, furniture and all. We only pay her four hundred a month rent, but she was glad to get it. She tried to sell or rent it for four months before we came along. Even with our four hundred, she still has to come up with another four-fifty every month."
"Where does she live now?"
"She had to move back with her parents in Hallandale, and she's twenty-five years old. I know how bad she feels. I'd never move back in with daddy. I'd rather die first."
"This is good beer."
"San Miguel dark. It's the best, and it comes all the way from the Philippine Islands. The man at Crown gets it for me. Of course, in addition to the four hundred a month, the electric bill comes to another two hundred."
"No shit?"
Susan nodded. "On account of the air conditioning. And it'll be going up again soon. The anchorette on Channel Ten said so last night. Without the money from Marty coming in, I don't think I can handle it. I'm worried."
"Don't be. We're engaged, so I'll take care of
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