Raylan picked up his binoculars and put them on the groups by the tables, over in the trees, to see Huggers in grungy clothes and tie-dyed outfits, dropout campers having fun: drinking beer, sniffing the guy with the snake tattoos’ smudge stick, banging on drums, sucking on balloons a guy was filling with nitrous oxide from a tank, Huggers giving new arrivals peace signs and hugs. Dawn had described a sign, WELCOME HOME, and there it was, fixed to a tree. Raylan edged his binoculars past other groups, normal-looking picnickers, families.
He watched a girl come out of the rest room building and lowered the glasses, a fat girl coming over to the car now, saying, “I need a hug, bad. Will you give me a hug?” She squeezed her head and shoulders through the window and got Raylan around the neck, pressing his face to her breast before he could protect himself. She said, “Love you,” and walked away as he took his hat off and replaced it over his eyes.
Not long after that he saw Melinda coming up the path along the banyan thicket with a skinny guy in jeans and white tennis shoes, a red, white, and green rugby shirt, sunglasses, the guy fairly young, his hair blond in the sunlight-until Raylan put the glasses on him and he became an older guy with gray hair. Finally, the one and only Chip Ganz, the guy slouching along next to Melinda, middle-aged hip, talking, smoking a joint pinched between his thumb and finger. Raylan watched him offer the joint to Melinda as they came past the parking circle. Bringing the stub to her mouth and taking a drag, she looked right at the car. Now they were heading toward the phone booth by the rest rooms, Chip digging into his pocket for change and then counting what he had in his hand. Now Melinda had her little purse open and was feeling inside.
Raylan got out of the car and walked over to them, standing by the phone booth now. He saw Chip look at him and start to look away-at the grass, the trees, at whatever was there that seemed to hold some fascination for him-Raylan was sure Chip knew who he was.
“You need change?”
Chip came around showing surprise now. “Oh… yeah, if you could help us out.”
Raylan put his right hand in his pants pocket, his left hand in the other pocket and stood this way looking at Chip, not saying anything for several moments. He watched Chip studying his change again to be occupied.
“You see Harry lately?”
Chip raised his eyebrows looking up. “Harry?”
“The one you owe the sixteen five.”
Chip put on a tired smile now, shaking his head. “He sent you to collect?”
“That was another guy,” Raylan said, “your gardener.”
“Oh. Yeah, the one my mother hired.”
“While you’re down in the Keys.”
“That’s right, but I did see the guy. I explained it to him.”
“What?”
“That I’d pay Harry in the next sixty days or so.”
Chip maintaining an innocent look: blank, but somewhat bewildered.
Raylan said, “You came all the way up here to get hugged?”
Chip grinned. “Well, among other things. I like the atmosphere, it takes me back, man, to that time, the peace movement, we were gonna change the world. You must’ve been around then.”
“I was in a coal mine,” Raylan said. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
“A friend of Harry’s. You must be the one stopped by and spoke to my caretaker, Louis? He called and told me.”
“While you were in the Keys.”
“Yeah.”
“Were you going home from here?”
Chip shook his head. “No reason to.”
“Is Louis there?”
“I think he has Saturday off.”
Raylan said, “Who’s there, just Harry?”
He watched Chip frown now, giving it all he had.
“You think Harry’s at my house?”
Frowning and then shaking his head.
Raylan said, “Where’re you parked?”
Chip hesitated. “On Summit. In one of those strip malls. Why?”
Raylan said, “Give me your car keys.”
“Why? What for?”
Raylan said, “You want to see my I.D.?”
“I just don’t understand why you want my keys.”
Raylan held out his hand.
Chip shrugged. He dug the keys out of his jeans and held them up, a finger in the key ring. “Okay, now what?”
“Take off the one for the car.”
Chip sighed now, going along, worked the key from the ring and handed it to Raylan. He said, “You know, this would appear to be a car-jacking, except you don’t seem the type that goes around boosting cars.” His expression turned deadpan, a stand-up comic now as he said, “Hey, but what do I know?” Then seemed to laugh without wanting to, ruining the effect.
Raylan thought Chip was doing the best he could, trying hard to seem innocent, good-humored, but the man was becoming giddy. Raylan doubted he’d be able to keep it together for long.
Handing the car key to Melinda, telling her, “It’s a tan Mercedes that needs bodywork,” came close to finishing Chip off.
He said, “Peanut?”
The poor guy, betrayed by this nice-looking young girl. She said to Chip, “It’s Melinda, just so you’ll know who set you up.”
“Summit’s that way,” Raylan said, pointing south.
Melinda nodded. “I’ll see you later,” and walked off across the grassy park.
Chip watched her with an expression Raylan thought of as forlorn, lost, no one to help him. But then said to Raylan, still with hope at this point, though not much, “How do I get my car back?”
“I don’t know,” Raylan said. “You don’t have Bobby to pick it up, do you?”
That seemed to finish Chip off, at least for the time being. He looked at Raylan with nothing to offer.
Raylan put his hand on Chip’s shoulder.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Yesterday when Harry said he heard something that sounded like shots, coming from outside, Louis said, “Yeah, is that right?”
This morning when Louis went in the room and saw Harry pulling his bathing cap over his face, Louis said, “You don’t need that no more. The one you had to worry about’s gone.”
Harry said, “The guy that shot King?”
“I fired him,” Louis said.
“He left?”
“Gone. You never see him again.”
“We still going to Freeport?”
“We going today, so clean yourself up.”
“We gonna fly?”
“You see me taking you through Customs and Immigration? The man ask the purpose of your visit? We going by private yacht.”
“What time?”
“Be cool, Harry, I let you know.”
This afternoon Louis brought Harry his snack and Harry asked if they were going now.
“Pretty soon,” Louis said. “Tell you what I’ll do, I’ll take the plywood down off the window; you can look out, see the boat when it comes.”
“I could hear the ocean out there,” Harry said. “I like to just sit and look at the ocean sometimes.”
Porky little guy looking up at him.
“Me too,” Louis said.
“You know I don’t have any clothes,” Harry said. “I’m gonna look like a bum over there.”
The little guy worrying about his appearance.
“You be fine,” Louis said. “You don’t even need shoes. We gonna walk out in the ocean-walk in the water like Ramsey Lewis, no relation to me. Get in a rubber raft to take us to the yacht. My man was gonna pick us up in the Innercoastal, but he say he look at his charts and don’t like the way it becomes so narrow by here. He like it where if the Coast Guard’s coming you can see the motherfuckers before they down on you.”
Louis remembered Harry the first few days asking was anybody there and then yelling, saying he wasn’t gonna say nothing if they didn’t talk to him, so fuck you. Acting tough way past his prime. Now Harry was submissive, as Chip had said he’d become, but without it taking weeks. Louis felt, in a way, he had made a friend of Harry, had saved his life, kept Bobby from killing him; so there wasn’t anything wrong with letting Harry give him half his money. Like it wasn’t a crime kind of gig no more.