Empire Of Salt Read Online Free PDF Page B

even heard about some of the problems with the place, but you said to yourself, How bad can it be ?"
    Natasha found herself nodding as the other girl spoke.
    The girl held out her arms as if to encompass Bombay Beach, the Salton Sea and the universe. "How bad can it be? It can be this bad." She shook her head and laughed. "Name's Veronica Lopez. I used to be like you when I first got here, then I got used to it."
    "I don't know if I can get used to this."
    "You'd be surprised how easy it is to get used to something. Hell, girl, give it a few weeks and you'll be telling someone else the same thing I'm telling you right now."
    "Where are you from?" Derrick asked.
    "Los Angeles."
    Derrick's eyes rounded. "Really?" His expression was a mix of incredulity and puppy love. He tried not to grin, but had no control over his mouth.
    "Oh, Lordy." Veronica shook her head. "This one's going to be trouble."
    Although the girl can't have been more than two years older than Derrick, there was an epoch of experience between them that was clearly noticeable. Veronica was sixteen going on thirty.
    "Did you ever meet anyone famous?" Derrick asked.
    "My cousin."
    "Which movie was he in?"
    "He wasn't in no movie. Raul was arrested by the cops in South Central. He was a gangbanger. Everyone knew Raul. It's why I'm out here living with my auntie and uncle. Mom didn't want me getting hooked up with the same crowd."
    "Gangbanger?" Derrick said. "You mean like drive-bys?" He made a firing motion with his fingers.
    "For some of us drive-bys aren't something on the evening news. I bet where you're from you can walk down the street just as plain as day and not worry about who's gonna shoot you for wearing the wrong color shirt." She shook her head and her eyes softened. "Never mind. Listen, let me give you a tour. There's some funny shit in this place."
    Veronica walked with a strut, like she had something to prove. She guided them down a side street and began to point at different homes and cars, telling stories about each one. The streets were arranged in a simple grid system. Numbered streets ran east and west and lettered avenues ran north and south. There were no lawns or plots of vegetables. Everything was covered in sand, even the road, which at times couldn't be seen for the sand blown across it. The only plant-life -aside from weeds - was palm trees that grew stubby, browning leaves and gray beards as if they were old men of the sea. Giant satellite dishes were prominent in many yards, as were aluminum antennas growing on the roofs of homes like the strange technological horns of prehistoric animals. When asked about these, Veronica responded that Bombay Beach didn't have cable, so if someone wanted more than the three static-laced channels broadcast from El Centro, they needed these antique satellite dishes. None of the regular subscription satellite companies made Bombay Beach part of their territory, so it was a retired rocket scientist who, for a few bucks a month, came by and serviced everyone's dishes.
    They came to what looked like three trailers welded together and Veronica told them that it belonged to an Amish family who'd come out to the Salton Sea for the "simplicity of life," whatever that meant. Natasha and Derrick were quite familiar with Amish people. They saw them all the time coming from Pennsylvania in their horse-drawn buggies, old-timey clothes and existences free of creature comforts. In fact, Lancaster County, where they were from, had a large Amish population, so their presence here provided a strange comfort. Still, Natasha had never expected to see Amish people in the middle of the desert, much less on the shores of a rotting sea. Although the trailers were a modern contrivance, there were no antennas, satellite dishes or electric lines running from the poles alongside the road to the home, like in the other trailers. The shades were drawn and the sun glinted off the siding in places where the paint had worn. Nothing