Unknown Victim by Kay Hadashi (classic books for 11 year olds .TXT) 📕

don’t always filter the beer through fresh filters, or filter it at all. Kill the yeast, run it through a sieve to get the big stuff out, and pour it into bottles. The formaldehyde doesn’t get drawn off.”

“How can they do that?” Gina asked.

“Inspectors get paid off to turn a blind eye. Cheaper to pay them than to replace old filters, I guess. But the people who drink that stuff all the time get pretty sick with bad livers. I’m surprised it can even get imported here.”

“Do you know where I can find it?” Gina asked.

“Just drink Budweiser.”

“I’m not going to drink any. I just want to see the stuff for myself.”

“Why’s it so important?” he asked.

“It just is.”

“I’ve never seen it on shelves here.” Felix called Gabe over and asked if he’d ever seen Tuyo in a market.

Gabe turned up his nose. “Tuyo? Only place I seen it is at Pinoy Boy Market in Kapalama.”

“I’ve heard of Kapalama,” Gina said. “It’s a part of town in Honolulu, right?”

“Nice there,” Felix said. “Flor and Florinda live there. But you stay out of Pinoy Boy. Too much trouble in that place.”

“Whatever.” That reminded Gina of something. “Someone said something to me yesterday. It was salamat or something like that. What’s that mean?”

“Salamat po means thank you very much. Or just salamat for a quick thanks.”

“It’s a Filipino language?” she asked.

“Every Filipino says it, no matter what language they use.”

By then, her crew was assembled and Clara had taken the long way around the house to the backdoor, taking grocery bags with her. Gina explained her new schedule of getting the trees pruned and branches chipped by the end of Friday, the next day, and wanted the pond dug out by the next week. She and Felix left them to work while they went to the hardware store.

“How much longer until the walls are put up in the house and get painted?” she asked as they drove.

“One room a day is about as fast as I can manage by myself, maybe a little longer. Then about one or two weeks to paint them.”

“Why so long to paint?”

“I have to put down a coat of primer over everything, and wait for that to dry. Then a coat of regular paint, and wait for that to dry, followed by another coat of paint. In higher humidity, it takes a little longer for paint to dry. Just like that old saying.”

“What old saying?” she asked.

“Sitting around watching paint dry is really boring, so I’ll help in the gardens in between coats of paint.”

After picking out the chipper/shredder that would suit her needs at the farm, she went down the sporting goods aisle to look at a few things. She found a badminton set.

“Taking up a new sport in your spare time?” Felix asked.

“I’ve noticed the kids looking bored lately. Is this something they’d like to do?”

“They’d love it. They could play beneath the trees at the back of the house.”

“That’s what I was thinking. What else do they like to do? Do they read?”

“Read?” he asked.

“Yeah, like comic books?”

“Not old enough to go to school, so they haven’t learned yet.”

“I forgot kids are in school. It seems like summer vacation.” Leaning in one corner at the end of the display of sporting goods was a metal detector. “Ever use one of these?”

“I got a cuz that uses it at the beach early in the morning after a high tide. He finds pocket change, occasionally a ring or watch. He makes a few bucks. Why? You lose something?”

“The estate is supposed to be one part botanical garden and one part historical site at the end, right? I thought it might be fun to look for whatever might’ve been lost a long time ago.”

“Like that old scythe we found the other day?” he asked.

“Exactly like that. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just something to put on display for visitors to see.”

Felix gave her a thumbs-up and a broad smile. “Good idea, as long as I get to be the one using it!”

***

That evening, Gina convinced herself she was going supermarket shopping for the second evening in a row because she needed to stock the cabinets and fridge. With the part of town she wanted marked on her new map, and the name and address of the store on her phone, she set off in the Datsun.

When she drove past Pinoy Boy Grocery Emporium, it was anything but. It was more of a corner grocery than an emporium. None of the signs were in English. If the place was back in Cleveland’s Little Italy, it would’ve been named Frankie’s Fine Meats, Smokes, and Liquor, the ‘fine meat’ being the hookers that hung around in the evening plying their wares. The pair of characters hanging around the front door that evening weren’t literature readers, and one even had his shirt open exposing a gold chain and a pumped chest.

“I wonder what they call Filipino guidos?” Gina asked herself as she drove by. “Joey Scapone would fit in pretty good with these guys.”

She went around the block the same as she would’ve if she’d been on patrol. She made note of the one alley that didn’t seem to have an outlet, and where the nearest intersection with a traffic signal was located. When she parked behind the store, there was only one way in or out. She made sure she had enough space to back out and around if she needed to get away in a hurry.

She felt naked walking to the front door of the place without a shield on her chest, a sidearm, or nightstick through a belt loop. All she could take was her coin purse, which she stuffed to the bottom of her front pocket. When she went past the two men that needed something better to do with their lives that lean against a wall, one made a kissy sound while the other said something in a language that she thankfully couldn’t understand.

When