The Last Good Paradise by Soli Tatjana

Author:Soli, Tatjana [Soli, Tatjana]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Literary, Retail, Fiction
ISBN: 9781466842304
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2015-02-10T05:00:00+00:00

“Look around. Your place is getting rough around the edges,” Dex said.

“People will forget,” Ann said.

Loren shook his head. “I’m pulling the plug. I want you all to leave the island.”

“No,” Richard answered. Ann was near tears, and even if he didn’t understand, he wanted to help her get whatever it was she was after. “I’m cooking. Dex is paying. Ann is looking after you. We’re not ready to leave just yet.”

“Besides, there’s no boat,” Wende added. “We’re marooned.”

Loren got up and without another word walked away.

He made a big production of wanting to be alone, but once he was back in his fare, ironically he longed to be in the company of people. He sat hoping that someone would come and disturb him so that he could act annoyed and too busy for whatever concerns they had. Sometimes the need for solitude was real, and other times it was a mere costume. Like all true recluses, he was simply waiting to be found by the right person.

Ann barged into his hut as he was pouring himself a tumbler of rum.

“Don’t be so mad,” she said.

“Judas. You came and betrayed.”

“What? Your public webcam? Was it really a secret? Isn’t the very concept an oxymoron?”

“It’s for Lilou.”

“Who is that? Your wife? Girlfriend?”

“My daughter.”

“You said you didn’t have anyone.”

“We haven’t spoken in years.”

“So how do you know she watches?”

“I know it here,” he said, and touched his hand to his heart.

Ann threw herself into a chair. She was confused and tired; her efforts at doing good, even for herself, were going nowhere. “It was wrong. I knew better, but I was desperate. Everyone was leaving.”

“You did what it took,” Loren said. “You Americans, always going around fixing the world.”

Ann started to cry.

“Tears won’t move me.”

She shook her head, unable to stop. “Me either.”

But tears did move him. Loren had already sold out weeks ago when he bought the Crusoe Cam domain name, allowing it to be commodified by views, if not dollars. So he told her the history of his coming to the islands—the real, unembellished version, which he had never shared before in its unflattering, unfun entirety.

“… After they took the girls away, I still called and wrote. It wasn’t as easy as today, with email. Did their mother give them the letters? I don’t know. Two years later, I received an official letter that Bette had died. Drowned in a bathtub. There were bruises on her body. My wife didn’t have the decency to inform me. Lilou never forgave me for not rescuing them.”

“How can you ever forgive me?”

He waved her words off, deep in the presenting of his case to an invisible jury. “Why didn’t they understand? I was accused of a perverted lifestyle. Things that would damage a child.”

“Children don’t understand logic. Neither do most adults. We want a magic fix.”

He slumped in his chair.

“Contact her. She has a right to know you’re sick.”

Loren poured another glass. “Did you know that there were a hundred thousand viewers just

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