Chapter Eighteen

The Second Floor: The Plan

 

The following is an excerpt from Chapter Eighteen of Mama Root: The Old Woman of Loop Road

 

 

~~~    Through the years talking about Mama Root, how old she was and how much money she had squirreled away had become something of a pastime for south Florida locals.  Depending upon who you talked to, her age ranged anywhere from ninety-seven to over two hundred years old, and she had somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand to well over ten million dollars.  She could also turn you into a frog, fly around on a broomstick or remove her own head if she had a mind to.

          The very sound of the word money caused Chris’ senses to instinctively sharpen, relative to the way contact with anything at all will trigger a shark’s bite response.  By the time he reached the group, he had already developed a plot line and created a persona.

          “Hey guys, didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were saying someone around here has cattle and land?”

          The self-delegated spokesman of the group scratched at a bristly chin and offered a response.  “Naw not has – had – long time ago.  Mama Root.”

          “Mama Root?”

          “Yeah, real old gal, lives off Loop Road a ways east o’ here.  Back in the Eighties – Eighteen Eighties, that is – husband an’ her had all kinds o’ business goin’ on ‘round Arcadia.”

          “Hmmm.  Just sold off the rest of my bonds and a lot of the futures I had.  I’m looking to invest in something solid – real estate, cattle, whatever.  You said she lives near here?  She’s still alive?”

          “Oh, hell yeah.  She’s older’n dirt.”

          Chris’ eyes keened.  “I’m guessing after all these years she doesn’t have all the businesses anymore?  Probably just lives on Social Security?”

          “Naw, no cattle anymore, but I think she still owns land all ‘round here, whether she ‘members it or not.  Also’s got a general store out in the swamp. An’ I don’t think she’s big on Social Security – she’s pretty proud, an’ that’d sound too much like a handout ta’ her.  ‘Sides, she don’t need the money anyhow.  So, what - you a reporter?  Already had one o’ them ‘round here lookin’ for her.”

          “No, no, like I said, just somebody with money burning a hole in his pocket.  You say she doesn’t need Social Security; everybody needs money – what makes her so different?”

            The local grinned at the intruder and smiled.  “Ya’ don’t seem too smart for somebody that looks like he went ta’ college.  Think ‘bout it: her an’ her husband built, bartered or grew most everything they had.  Brought lots o’ money in an’ didn’t spend hardly any of it.  Been that way since anybody can remember.  Always been her own person an’ never wanted to be obliged ta’ anybody else.  Not ta’ say she’s stingy – she’s helped out a lot of folks ‘round here.  Husband died when she was still pretty young, an’ she just picked up an’ moved, an’ even then had like a travelin’ store.  Same thing – she’s never stopped workin’ an’s never spent much o’ what she had.”~~~