Chapter 27
"So, where are you from?" Jason asked as they all crowded around the campfire, stuffed after the grand meal. "I detect a little southern—"
"Americus Georgia," the man said. "Had a small construction company back there. But I lost everything, except for the equipment. Was a family thing, that there," he pointed at the family immediately to his right, "my cousin, Alexo, his wife, Deloris, and their two youngins, David and Junior. They lived six blocks from us." He gestured next to them, "That there's my brothers, Brock and Marko, and Marko's kid, Jasmine. And right down around the way is my number one straw boss, Digman, and his clan, but I still ain't got all their names down."
"Everyone call me Biggie anyway," Digman said, patting his girth before shaking Jason's hand. "I got six kids running around here, you'll see 'em all from time to time, but just the two girls, Amelia and Joanna right here, sit still long enough to see 'em. And of course, my other, Angela. With such a big family, we naturally had an RV with tip outs for family vacations and trips and such." He gestured over his shoulder at the thing sitting atop the hill next to several pitched tents. "Boss man, Stone, there, had a small fleet of work trucks and vans and lots of equipment. When the president said we could hit the west coast and make our fortune, we all jumped at it. Said all we needed was to document with pictures and such the condition of the site when we found it, then the improvements we did to it. Said they'd have inspectors flooding the area in a matter of weeks, but we ain't seen one yet. Came out with everything we figured on needing, have Wal-Mart for the rest."
This was the part Jason needed the most, "I heard about that, but never had the particulars. How do you file a claim?"
"Well," Biggie said, "how the paper tell it, you find an area, ten acres a person, take you some pictures of how it was, then improve it. You know, build on it. If you improve it enough, they sign it over to you. Said because it was all condemned as a natural disaster, the government and the insurance companies had already paid for it, so they went ahead and eminent-domained it, then made it available for free. Well, a hundred dollar an acre, maximum of ten acre a person. Angel there has a copy of the newspaper we read it in. Figured, better to have it in black and white in case there be no fine print mistakes." He smiled wide. "Says in it, ten acre per family member."
Jason's little group didn't have many power tools. But they did have some mansion seeds. "What about farmland?"
"That covered in there too. They say that you have to prove that it won't farmland before you got to it. But you get a crop growing, they accept that as an improvement too. I think it's like ten percent of your claim is all what needs to be fruitful, but read it yourself if you want. Amelia, go show him."
A little girl, no more than ten, ran up, grabbed him by the arm, and tugged him toward the RV that looked like a bus. Inside looked like a living room with all the carpet and high fashion of a modern home. The little girl pulled a paper off the stack, plopped it on the dinner table, and flipped it open to the dog-eared page.
Jason read every detail.
The way the bill was passed, if a loss claim had been filed, for example had the rental company filed the serial numbers of all their jetskis as flood loss, then anyone who could show that they had been salvaged and fixed could essentially keep them. Homes that were unaffected by the floods, however, could not simply be moved into, even if it had been written off as a loss. So, technically, they did loot the mansion, and could be jailed for it, but salvaged the rental place. Gina had taken lots of pictures with her cell-phone as she dismantled the engines, and lots of notes on how to put them back together. They should be fine on all of that.
A standing house was still owned by the state and the land surrounding it couldn't be claimed. One that had been leveled to its foundation could be documented, then salvaged. It ended with a strong warning that satellite photos could and would be used to verify all claims. Several consecutive nights of bonfires in the shape of an X were used to draw satellite attention to each claim.
When done, he folded it and returned to the fire, and quietly laid all his cards down on the table. They had a sailboat that was more of a fishing platform or an RV on the water, but it was worthless close to land. But the amount of fish they could catch could easily feed every hungry mouth on shore. And they had gotten good at fishing over the years.
On shore, Jason's little clan didn't have the tools or the ability to build homes like a professional contractor could, but they did have labor to spare. What came next was what Biggie called an hour-long session of good old-fashioned horse-trading.
And Jason's family had something to trade. It all was looking very promising as he discussed and made plans late into the night with what were, essentially, perfect strangers.
Noon the next day, Jason held his arms over his head and formed an X, angrily flipped off his friends on the boat, then turned to moon them, shouting, "Get your asses over here!"
Nathan promptly ferried Makayla and another fish over, then let Jason return to the boat alone while they got the tour and met their new neighbors.
". . . According to the paper I read, all you have to do is keep your notes and those photos and we should be plenty good with keeping the jetskis," Jason said to the sisters, but mostly Gina. "The deal I struck was that we would keep someone out here fishing while the rest of us stayed inland. We'd help them with the building, and in turn, they'd keep us in fuel and help us stake a claim."
"Now, how do we know that they won't let us do all the work, then claim our land too?" Ava asked as dusk slowly set in.
That was a good question, for which he didn't have a good answer. "I would say only that perhaps the same thing that would keep us from making a claim against something they built that we helped on. Our house would come last, they said, which only seemed fair, really. But our garden would come first, in hopes that we could add something more to the diet than just fish. And an acre garden is enough of an improvement to allow a claim for ten acres. So, to answer you, I don't really know, Ava. We just have to trust, sometimes.
The nearest stocked supply house, they say, is over two hundred miles away. But they have a van jammed full of nails and screws and every kind of hardware you would need to build houses—"
"Doesn't it seem awfully convenient that a housing contractor would be the first person we would meet out here?" Gina said with some distrust.
"Well, yes it does. But I doubt anybody other than a housing contractor would have the skills or the daring—" Jason paused, not wanting to discount Gina's instinct out-of-hand, "I would be more surprised with a wave of secretaries or car salesmen. His business was destroyed with the first flooding, at least that's what he told me. Hell, his name is on most of the trucks. I kinda trust him, Gina. Look, say that we put in a lot of labor, give away a lot of fish for almost free, and get little or nothing in return. That's no worse than what we've been doing so far. This is a chance. A good one, I think. Maybe we get taken, but at least it isn't by a bunch of Canadians."
Gina laughed, but Ava turned very serious, "I liked the Canadians we met, Aye."