Pagodaville, p.4
Pagodaville, page 4
On Halloween of 1939, after a very raucous party at The Palms, Cesare and Consuela cleaned up and went down to the dunes near Heatherton County beach. It was a gorgeous night, the sky full of bright twinkling stars. It was the night they became pregnant.
Consuela gave birth to their first child, a beautiful baby girl they named Alianah, in July of 1940.
FOUR
Monday, March 17, 1980
Heatherton County, Florida
Lorna flew down to Jacksonville, Florida, then rented a car to drive the hour and a half south to Heatherton County to be on hand for the inspection of her newly acquired property.
The ancient drawbridge that connected the mainland of St. Augustine with Heatherton County over the intracoastal waters ended on a paved road with one light swinging overhead. Lorna slammed on the break when the light suddenly turned red. She made a right hand turn with the green light, although it seemed like there was no one around for miles, and followed a small, cockeyed wooden sign with a green arrow that read The Famous Pagoda Motel Turn Left. She headed onto the dirt and gravel turn-around driveway and parked next to a GMC truck that she assumed was the inspector’s vehicle.
She felt a surge of excitement because she was finally here. Her first glimpse of the property was a sun-bleached replica of a pagoda listing dangerously to the right, surrounded by a semi-circle of two cement benches in various forms of decay. She imagined the previous owners wanted to exude the feeling of peace and tranquility for their guests, but now it looked more like a war-torn temple and less like the structure of strength and clarity it was supposed to represent.
She turned to look at the front of the main building. Her expectations and short-lived excitement plummeted.
“Oh, my God,” she said.
She was met with another sun-scorched wooden structure that might have been lovely at one point in time but now looked like someone had beaten it with a spiked bat. The pictures must have been altered in the darkroom because what she recalled from the realtor was not this. She was afraid to see the cabins. She hoped they were still standing. She heard Avril’s words “one big-assed mistake” echo as she made her way towards the sagging front steps of the building.
“Hello!” A voice came from behind her. A middle-aged man with blue chinos, a white golf shirt, and a great tan approached her. “You must be Mrs. Hughes?”
Lorna corrected, “It’s Miss Hughes and yes, that would be me.”
He reached out to shake her hand. “Jim Tate. I got here about an hour ago so I thought I would walk around a bit before you arrived.”
Lorna shook his hand. “I imagine you have some pretty discouraging news.”
“Well, actually, it’s not that bad, Miss Hughes.”
“Please, call me Lorna.”
“Sure. Lorna, it’s mostly cosmetic. The whole place, while a bit depressing visually, has pretty good bones. Let’s go into the main building here and you can take a look around. It’s kind of nice.”
Lorna got her hopes up. “My God, I hope so.”
Once inside the lobby of the main building, she was impressed with the big wrap-around desk that served as Reception. Beautiful stones and pieces of gray slate were inlaid on the front of the desk in the wood, while the top of was solid redwood. It scarred from use but exuded character. She ran her hand along the molding. “This is stunning. It looks hand tooled.”
Jim said, “I think it was. In fact, I believe a good deal of the woodwork here in this building was hand tooled by the initial owners. A Mexican family named Puente.”
She looked around at the rest of the lobby area. Wainscoting covered the bottom half of the pale green walls, while areas of darker green where pictures had been hung on the upper part of the walls were apparent. A fan with sagging blades sat at a cocked angle in the middle of the ceiling.
She followed Jim behind the desk into a small office. Carcasses of June bugs littered the floor. She tried to sidestep them but heard an occasional crunch as she walked back into the kitchen.
Lorna entered the kitchen and felt more comfortable. On the yellow walls was a beautifully hand-painted, brilliantly colored—albeit a bit faded—scene of a Mexican gathering where food was abundant on a picnic table, drink bottles spilled out of silver buckets of ice, and children played in a large yard. Black cast-iron pots rested on cement arms over a fire pit.
Lorna remarked, “Oh this is just lovely. It feels so happy and content.” She studied it for a few moments with Jim.
He responded in kind. “I agree. It’s like a piece of a bigger story, don’t you think?”
Lorna nodded. She made a mental note that when it came time to repaint the kitchen, the mural would stay as it was.
Jim opened a cabinet door. “They hang fairly plumb here, see?”
Lorna opened the other doors. “It seems as though the woodwork is very solid. Good workmanship is hard to come by these days.”
“You know, my wife and I once thought about buying this place but decided it would be too much work for both of us. We bought a boat instead!” He chuckled. “But I think it’s a gem, Lorna. And maybe what looks like a beaten down place now can be fixed up with hard work and creativity, and of course, a bit of cash.”
It was at this point that Lorna noticed Jim’s gaze fall to her ring-less left hand.
He asked, “Are you just buying the property on your own or will you be joined by someone later on?”
“Divorced. No kids.” It was just easier that way.
Jim said, “Oh sure. Sorry to hear. Make a fresh start of things then?”
“Something like that.”
They continued up a set of stairs that lead to the owner suite. The master bedroom overlooked the front of the motel driveway. Jim showed her the bathroom. “Full bath and shower, linen closet, vanity, mirror, standard stuff.”
Lorna nodded. In her mind, she agreed with Jim that creativity and ingenuity would turn this place into what it must have been like back in the ’40’s and ’50’s. Her mind’s eye was already tearing the wallpaper down, repainting, and cleaning. More bugs carcasses crunched underfoot. She would get an exterminator first thing.
Jim said, “Why don’t we take a look at the cabins? I turned on the water—there is a small unit behind the main building where the water tanks are— but a plumber is going to need to do some basic work.”
There were six cabins, three in a semi-circle on each side of a dried grassy courtyard. The pool and tennis court bordered the courtyard area away from the cabins.
Jim said, “The pool is probably not worth fixing. See all those cracks along the bottom and edges? You’d spend a pretty penny fixing it. You might want to fill it in at some point in time. Same thing with this little tennis court thing. I’m not even sure what it is because it’s too small to be a tennis court and maybe it’s something…”
Lorna offered, “A badminton court?”
Jim nodded, “Yes, you could say that, I suppose. Not sure why they built it, but see here?” He walked over it. “There are heaves all over the place. Dig it up, I say.”
Lorna nodded her head. “I’ve already got some ideas.”
They went into each of the cabins and while some of them had two very small bedrooms, all of them had a galley kitchen, a small dining area, a seating/den area and a full bath. She would clear all the old furniture out of the cabins and start over with the basics..
Jim pointed to the windows. “They look pretty good. In fact, I think,” he looked through his paperwork, “new windows were installed just two years ago. Yep. Each cabin and the main building were done.”
Lorna was hot and uncomfortable in her business/travel attire, hungry, and completely overwhelmed. She asked, “Jim, would you mind if I left you to it? I’d like to check into my motel on the mainland and get something nutritious to eat. The flight was pretty bumpy, so I settled for ginger ale and pretzels.”
Jim smiled. “Of course. You run along. Here’s my card, come by the office later this afternoon and I can discuss the results with you.”
Lorna took his card, shook his hand, and thanked him. She found her way back to her rental car, started the engine, blasted the air conditioning, and stood at the door of the car for one more look at the front of the main building. She was determined to turn this run-down place into a home.
She unbuttoned her suit jacket, took it off and tossed it onto the passenger seat. With a sigh she allowed herself a small smile while looking at the old wooden pagoda baking in the late morning sun. With a grunt, she pushed on the tilted side of the structure to set it back towards center. She held it there and said, “Well, it’s you and me now. Shall we make a go of it?”
When she let go of the icon, it stood for a few seconds on its own then slowly creaked its way back to where it originally slumped.
Driving back to the mainland over the intracoastal, the car sufficiently cooled off, she rolled down the driver’s side window. The sky was a deep cerulean blue, the calm waters wafted up salty and delicious to her nostrils. She breathed in deep, the air filtering out the Cleveland winter grime from her lungs.
When she arrived at The Palms motel, she found the front desk empty. She dinged the little bell and a short, heavy-set Mexican woman with long jet-black hair tied behind her head and whose smile sported several gold-capped teeth emerged from a back room. “Oh! Good morning, Miss! What brings you to beautiful St. Augustine?”
Lorna set her baggage down. “Well, I’m the new owner of The Pagoda Motel over in Heatherton County.”
“Oh si! How nice for you! The Pagoda is a little bit of a competition for us here, but I am glad to see it won’t stay empty. The more business for you, the more business for me, comprende?”
“Yes. I truly believe that.”
“And will your husband come to the motel with you as well?”
“Well, actually, ah, no. No husband.”
“Oh! No husband. Well…”
Lorna changed the subject. “So, I’d like to check in. I have a reservation for Hughes. Lorna Hughes. And after I get changed, where can a very hungry single gal get a good meal around here?”
The clerk’s face brightened. “Ah! You must go to El Mocambo. The chef, he is my brother. He will cook for you the best fish you will ever eat. You will tell him I sent you. Each morning he goes to fish!”
Lorna smiled. “And who shall I say sent me?”
The woman continued to speak while she wrote down the reservation information. “I am Cheenah. Okay, here you are, Miss Lorgana Hughes. Room 114. And here is your key.”
Lorna picked up her bags and took the key. “It’s Lorna, actually. Say, do you know of any good handymen in the neighborhood?”
Cheenah raised her eyebrows and smiled. “My sister, Anya and her husband Milton. They are the Catalvos, and they will work good for you.”
Lorna chuckled, “Well, I was looking more for a crew. You know, a few men to do some work.”
“Oh no! You don’t need big crew. You need Anya. She is crew. She will be the best, really.”
Cheenah came around the desk and extended her hand. “I think maybe I will take you to lunch at El Mocambo. I will introduce you to the right people at Mocambo!”
Lorna asked, “But…can you just leave? Is there anyone else working here?”
Cheenah smiled. “Just me. Is hokay.” She reached behind the desk and pulled up a little sign that read: BE BACK IN UNA HORA, SIESTA!”
Lorna shrugged, liking this woman immediately. “Who am I to argue? I’ll change quickly and then we can drive over in my car.”
Cheenah shook her head, “We will walk, it is practically right next door!”
Twenty minutes later, Lorna exclaimed when they walked up to the little stucco building, “This is charming, so authentic looking!”
The front patio seating area sported a few wrought-iron chairs and tables balanced on buckled cement. Lorna made a move to sit down but Cheenah directed her inside, where a heavenly scent wafted out of the propped-open door. Lorna could make out a small kitchen, about ten tables, and a neon sign advertising Tecate. Her taste buds tingled in her mouth. She was ravenous.
A tall, gangly young man with a thin mustache, a mop of dark brown hair spilling onto his forehead and a big smile approached them. He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel that hung from the tie of his half-apron. He kissed his sister on both cheeks. “Ah, my Cheenah. You look so beautiful today!”
Cheenah stood up on her tip-toes and kissed her brother on the cheek. She said to Lorna, “He says that I am beautiful always even though most times I look a wreck.”
Luis waved his hand, “Ach, you will always be muy bonita!”
Cheenah wrapped her hand around Lorna’s elbow. “Luis, this is Miss Lorgana. She just recently bought The Pagoda Motel. She is new in town!”
Lorna cleared her throat. “Yes, well, it’s Lorna, actually.”
Luis embraced her. “Ah! Welcome Miss Lorgana! Today you will have the house specialty!”
Lorna returned the simple hug gesture somewhat tentatively. She asked, “Okay, what would the house specialty be?”
Cheenah and Luis responded in unison with their forefingers raised. “The fish stew!”
Cheenah waved her brother off. “Go make the food! We will sit.”
A young Mexican boy came by the table and dropped off a basket of freshly made tortilla chips. He set down a white bowl of salsa. Lorna could smell the freshness and dug in.
Cheenah smiled. “You will never get better Mexican food anywhere else, Miss Lorgana.
Lorna shoved more chips in her mouth. “Oh my God.” She ordered a beer when the young man returned to the table to drop silverware.
“Miguel, say hello to Miss Lorgana. She just bought The Pagoda Motel.”
Lorna went to correct Cheenah again but stopped herself. It was kind of sweet in a slightly annoying way.
Miguel bowed. “Miss Lorgana.”
Cheenah leaned in after Miguel went to fetch Lorna her beer. “He is my God son.”
“What, are you all related here? You guys must run the town.”
Cheenah winked at her but said nothing.
The stew was succulent. Full of potatoes and beans so flavorful between the tartness of the pepper sauce and the sweetness of the fresh fish that Lorna could not speak while she was eating.
Cheenah prattled on about how great the area was and how the tourists came and went. She talked about Anya and Milton and said, “If you want, I will call Anya right ahora from the telephone in the kitchen. They work for a man Mister Johnston and he is el diablo. Very bad man but they need the work. Maybe they will come and work for you then they won’t have to work for Mister Johnston anymore.” Cheenah looked at her watch. “Ah yes, right now they are on lunch so they will answer the phone.”
Lorna scraped up the last of the stew from her bowl with a tortilla chip. “Well I suppose you could.”
Cheenah pushed her chair away from the table. “I will call them, and they will come to The Pagoda after they are done working for that…very bad hombre!”
“Okay.” Lorna chugged her beer and watched Cheenah walk into the kitchen. She could hear Cheenah and Luis speaking rapidly in Spanish and she was able to make out the words: Anya, Milton, Miss Lorgana, someone named Anita, and Mister Johnston.
When Cheenah sat back down at the table she said, “All is done! I think you are making a smart movement, Miss Lorgana.”
Lorna chuckled, “I think the word you want is move. Smart move.”
Cheenah bowed her head and murmured, “Oh si. Smart move.”
“I would like to pay for lunch since you were so kind to—"
Cheenah put her hand on Lorna’s forearm, allowing it to linger. “No, no, Miss Lorgana. Today you are our guest.”
FIVE
After her wonderful lunch with Cheenah at El Mocambo, Lorna took her legal pad and favorite pen with her back to The Pagoda to start her lists.
At three o’clock, while Lorna made notes about the entrance to the main building, a light blue van entered the turn-around and the driver’s side door opened as the driver was putting the van into park, sending up a plume of dust.
Lorna watched as a stocky Mexican woman jumped out and adjusted her shorts. Lorna figured this must be Anya, Cheenah’s sister.
The closer the woman got, Lorna noticed that even though she looked chunky, she was solid muscle, her arms and legs clearly defined underneath a tight tee shirt and carpenter shorts.
“Miss Lorgana, I am Anya Catalvo, Cheenah’s sister.”
Lorna smiled and held out her hand. “Hello, Anya. I’ve heard a lot about you and your husband from Cheenah.”
The passenger side door opened, and a thin, small-boned man approached. His tone was gentle and his handshake warm. “I am Milton Catalvo.”
Lorna was taken in by Milton’s kind eyes. “Hello, Milton. I am Lorna Hughes.”
Anya cleared her throat, all business. “Yes, well, right now we can come in tomorrow to see what you need to have done. Cheenah said you needed a crew. We are crew. I will be the handy person and Milton will look at the plants. He is, how do you say, the green finger?”
“Green thumb is how it goes. Why don’t you and Milton come back tomorrow in the morning. Say, ten o’clock?”
Anya signaled for Milton to get back into the van. “We will not be busy to come at ten o’clock, Miss Lorgana. Adios!”
Lorna waved and watched as Anya peeled out of the driveway sending gravel flying up into the wheel wells.
She chuckled and waited for the dust to settle.
Lorna started the rental car and drove to the address on the card for Jim Tate. She found his office in the lovely, quaint downtown square of St. Augustine.
They sat at a small conference table while Jim offered and poured Lorna a glass of iced tea.
She said, “I had the most delicious meal this afternoon at little place called El Mocambo.
Jim nodded. “Ah! Know it well, the food is first rate.”
