{"id":490,"date":"2009-09-07T06:00:34","date_gmt":"2009-09-07T11:00:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.greatsociety.org\/?p=490"},"modified":"2018-10-30T21:03:18","modified_gmt":"2018-10-31T01:03:18","slug":"brave-captain-harvey-its-all-about-the-money-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/?p=490","title":{"rendered":"Brave Captain Harvey-It’s All About the Money, Part 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

I sat in my living room with my feet up, the dog by my side whimpering.\u00a0 Harvey was in the shower, slapping lather up and down his arms and gargling.\u00a0 The water shut off and he stomped in the tub to cast off the excess.\u00a0 He was true to his word, in and out in five minutes\u2014a soldier\u2019s shower.\u00a0 He came out wrapped in a dingy, grease stained towel that probably also pulled double-duty as his apron.\u00a0 Harvey was somehow tan across his body despite always being clad in that bomber jacket.\u00a0 His stomach was concave under the overhang of his broad ribcage, and his chest muscles sagged like flat pads slowly sliding towards the ground.\u00a0 Underneath his sparse gray chest hair over his heart was an old once-black-now-green tattoo, burned small in cursive\u2014Nancy<\/em>.\u00a0 He crossed the room to retrieve his rucksack then turned and exited the room.\u00a0 I watched his vertebrae wobble underneath his freckles and scars.\u00a0 The dog wanted to launch up and keep tabs on the stranger, but I held him fast by his collar.\u00a0
\n<\/p>\n

Cristo had refused to close his barbershop up early\u2014he kept appointments\u2014but promised to go out with us right after six if we would bring him a couple of crawfish pies from Tee Eva\u2019s.\u00a0 Brave Captain Harvey and I stood in line outside the small kitchen with its window access.\u00a0 When it came time to pay Eva he shook his head.\u00a0 I sighed and pulled out my wallet.\u00a0 I was down to ten dollars for the rest of the week now, which meant it was time to start rationing cigarettes.<\/p>\n

Cristo locked the door to his shop and pulled down the blinds.\u00a0 His one hand alternated between holding up a pie for a bite and counting his cash, curling the bills by denomination between his fingers and setting them in piles in an old cigar box.\u00a0 Harvey sat in the first barber chair and watched the money pile.\u00a0 Cristo did eighty haircuts a week at twenty-five per. \u00a0I watched Harvey do the math.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, Harvey,\u201d Cristo said, \u201cHow much capital do we need?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCass has ten dollars.\u00a0 I\u2019d say just another forty should cover it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cristo whistled.\u00a0 \u201cFeeling confident today, huh, Cap?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just stunt money,\u201d Harvey replied.\u00a0 \u201cA prop.\u201d\u00a0 He slid a pocket knife out of his jacket, opened the blade, and started cleaning his nails, tossing grime out from under them with little flicks.\u00a0 Cristo grinned at me, pointed his chin at the Captain and winked like watch this<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cYo, Harvey.\u00a0 We gotta set some ground rules here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said no.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cristo ruffled his hair with his hand.\u00a0 His cut-off bicep rolled by instinct inside his sleeve along with the motion.\u00a0 \u201cNo whiskey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, whiskey.\u00a0 Once we get rolling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo whiskey, no flirting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is bullshit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want my help?\u00a0 No whiskey.\u00a0 You drink light beer, Harvey.\u00a0 No flirting.\u00a0 I want you focused.\u00a0 And Cassander holds the money.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harvey chuckled and snapped his blade closed.\u00a0 \u201cIf Cass holds the money he\u2019s gotta be our bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cristo grinned at me again, bright white teeth outlined by that faint Latino goatee.\u00a0 \u201cOh, yeah.\u00a0 Cass will be our little go-fer bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n

We walked down the street to the Lasseiz-Faire.\u00a0 We stepped up through the tight doorway into the loud bar, a crossroads for all kinds of people headed for all kinds of Friday nights.\u00a0 A few of the daytime drunks still maintained on their stools rubbing shoulders with a happy hour office set, but younger people in tighter clothing and flashier lingo with 2 a.m. goals would overcrowd them soon.\u00a0 The jukebox beamed miscellaneous: Michael Jackson to Stevie Ray Vaughn to Dr. John.\u00a0 Two pool tables occupied the center of the front room, covered in smooth, burgundy felt.\u00a0 One was open.\u00a0 The other stood fast against the slapstick play of three paralegal types.\u00a0 Three quarters lined up in their slots and fed into the plunger produced a loud thump in the guts of the table.\u00a0 The balls rolled in a roaring line and dropped into the window.\u00a0 Brave Captain Harvey pulled them out and dropped them into the rack, alternating stripes and solids.\u00a0 Cristo crossed the wall and selected the best two cue sticks available, carrying them both in his one hand.\u00a0 I leaned in between to separate groups at the bar.<\/p>\n

Jackie ran back and forth, throwing laughs over her shoulder and whipping a flat silver bottle opener out of her right ass pocket to speed-shuck the caps off three bottles of Dixie.\u00a0 She spun the loop of the tool around her index finger once before sliding it home back in her jeans.\u00a0 Her long, flat black hair spun summer-skirt style when she whipped her head towards the three sides of the bar to focus on shouted orders, her skinny body always aimed the opposite way of her face.\u00a0 In between the execution of several orders and side-to-side trips one shot glass appeared in front of me and then another.\u00a0 She harassed a shaker into submission while popping olives into two martinis and placing the stems of the glasses into eager hands poking through the frontline of bodies.\u00a0 Finally she stopped for a moment and strained the liquid into the glasses.\u00a0 We touched them together then knocked their bottoms on the bar and bounced them to our lips.\u00a0 Cold rum, lime juice, and some secret spicy ingredient coated my mouth and throat and eased down into my belly.\u00a0 I felt better already.<\/p>\n

\u201cJackie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCass.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to need your help tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked over my shoulder.\u00a0 \u201cAll right, just let me know when.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me get three Dos Equis for right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got it, sugar.\u00a0 Just tell those two to quit when they\u2019re ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

I returned to the table and handed the men their drinks.\u00a0 \u201cJackie says play it cool.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harvey swallowed half of his bottle at once.\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019s the hotshot,\u201d he said, pointing at Cristo.<\/p>\n

\u201cCalle te<\/em>.\u201d Cristo set his drink down on a ledge, reclaimed his cue, and zoned in on the three ball.\u00a0 He laid the stick across the edge of the table, sliding it across the border of felt, digging an imperceptible groove.\u00a0 He leaned down low, sighting along the stick.\u00a0 Finally he stabbed the stick forward, turning his torso almost ninety degrees while keeping his feet planted like he was thrusting a rapier.\u00a0 The cue ball clacked the three and stopped dead.\u00a0 The three ball hit the back wall of the corner pocket and dropped down the chute.\u00a0 Instead of drawing the stick back like those with two arms, he always lifted the tip up rapidly towards the lamp right after impact then brought his arm down to his side and let the stick slide between his fingers until the butt hit the floor.\u00a0 Cristo smiled and looked for his next target.\u00a0 I cleared empty cigarette boxes and bottles off of a booth table and snugged up lengthwise with my beer.<\/p>\n

Cristo and Brave Captain Harvey played through a few games.\u00a0 The barber always won.\u00a0 He celebrated with woops while Cap shook his head and gritted his teeth.\u00a0 He play-paid Cristo with his own ten-dollar bills.\u00a0 Stunt money.\u00a0 Lasseiz-Faire started to fill up.\u00a0 The back room opened up with its own bartender and a competing jukebox.\u00a0 The doors clapped thick every other minute with new arrivals.\u00a0 People and noise compiled, and Harvey stepped up the drama to compensate.\u00a0 Some people started to notice and even actively watch the one-armed man dressed neatly in slacks and a crisp gray shirt with pearl buttons cracking his stick and putting the old able-bodied man in chinos and a v-neck down every time.\u00a0 I fetched beer, dawdling at the bar when I felt it was necessary to slow Cap\u2019s action.<\/p>\n

\u201cI give up!\u201d he yelled after a handful of games.\u00a0 \u201cWho\u2019s my partner?\u00a0 Who\u2019s my partner?\u00a0 Who\u2019s gonna help me take this freak down?\u201d\u00a0 He leaned in between two buddies, thirty-ish post-punks past their prime.\u00a0 \u201cYou guys want to play?\u00a0 I\u2019ll put up the money.\u201d\u00a0 The two guys shrugged and fetched sticks for themselves.\u00a0 They shared names and handshakes over the table.\u00a0 The two old punks pitched balls down the table to decide the break.\u00a0 Harvey\u2019s partner bounced his back smooth and clean, an inch from the bumper.<\/p>\n

\u201cRock and roll,\u201d Cap said, and broke.<\/p>\n

Cristo\u2019s talent suddenly dropped off.\u00a0 He spazzed a few bank shots, came up short on straight lines.\u00a0 His punk tried to pick up the slack.\u00a0 Harvey\u2019s punk became serious as soon as it was his turn.\u00a0 He played solid, kissing balls into the side pockets and stranding the cue ball in tough spots when he had to.\u00a0 Harvey started in on his stories: he escaped from Cambodia.\u00a0 He trucked dead bodies from UN sites in Bosnia.\u00a0 The punks urged him on, \u201cReally, brah?\u201d\u00a0 Harvey\u2019s team won a game, then handed the money right back to Cristo\u2019s team the next.\u00a0 I got up to fetch beers.\u00a0 Jackie still ran hot behind the bar, pinballing from the cooler to the ice bunker, hitting a row of cups with soda from the fountain gun.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019s it going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think we just finished Act One,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cNow comes the Ol\u2019 Switcheroo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everyone around the table laughed and pushed off of each other now.\u00a0 Cristo and Brave Captain Harvey had joined forces against the punks.\u00a0 Cristo\u2019s cheeks were pink, but he kept his composure, seeing openings the others couldn\u2019t and twisting his body in hard power shots and just barely lifting the stick forward with the delicate ones.\u00a0 He rang in three or four balls in a row.\u00a0 The punks made shots but kept shaking their heads\u2014they couldn\u2019t keep up.\u00a0 Harvey kept them distracted, jawing and jawing.\u00a0 Before they knew it they were out seventy bucks.<\/p>\n

I was getting drunk.\u00a0 I saw people outside on the sidewalk milling around or waiting in line.\u00a0 The entrance was a bottleneck now, and the room was hot.\u00a0 Girls kept pushing dollars into the jukebox unaware that it held a fifty song backlog.\u00a0 Still, amidst all the separate cliques and groups, Cristo and Harvey had attracted enough attention.<\/p>\n

Look at that one-armed guy shoot.\u00a0 Jesus, that\u2019s weird.<\/em><\/p>\n

Yeah, but\u2026He\u2019s saddled with that old, drunk vet.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

We could take \u2018em.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

Harvey hit the john.\u00a0 He nodded me to join him.\u00a0 Inside the tiny closet he handed me the cash and washed his hands.\u00a0 \u201cGo get us some food.\u201d<\/p>\n

I jostled my way against the people pushing inside and went down the block to the Pop-n-Go, embraced bags of chips and pretzels.\u00a0 Harvey broke them open when I returned, wiped salt and oil on his shirt.\u00a0 They were playing two construction workers flush with Friday cash now, a lean bald guy with a Dallas drawl and this tough-titty girl in a wife beater and cargo pants.\u00a0 She was the dead shot of the two, almost running the table the first game.\u00a0 Cristo quickly caught up.\u00a0 Dallas fudged on the eight ball and Cap clipped it in quick.\u00a0 The two of them exchanged smirks below the trundle lamp.<\/p>\n

\u201cDouble or nuthin\u2019,\u201d Dallas dared.<\/p>\n

It hit eleven o\u2019clock, see and be seen time.\u00a0 A swampy rock band started up in the back room.\u00a0 Jackie rolled the volume up on the jukebox on her side, but their drums still beat through the loose slatted walls.\u00a0 The room was tilting now, not so much in celebration than partaking in a hyperactive cooperation against sobriety.<\/p>\n

I zoned in on Cristo.\u00a0 He had started limiting himself to little sips from his beer.\u00a0 His back was getting to him, I could tell, but he fought on, enjoying the ride.\u00a0 He\u2019d never try and pull a stunt like this on his own, even though he probably could.\u00a0 The art of his swing was just second nature now, hard-won through practice but too exact to be a challenge or delight anymore.\u00a0 He needed Harvey to make it look like fun, to spread his chatter like covering fire over his own awesome accuracy.<\/p>\n

Crack!\u00a0 Cristo hit the eleven in the side with enough spin to carry the cue ball straight down the side and shoulder the thirteen in.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t tell if he\u2019d meant to do that or if his subconscious and body had seen the pattern and latched onto it out of habit and ability.\u00a0 The girl got smart.\u00a0 Cristo popped a light, moist sheen.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, honey, he\u2019s a fucking barber,\u201d Harvey said.\u00a0 \u201cHe relies on good hands and good luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t quite convinced.\u00a0 Luckily she took it to heart and went on a frenzy, popping in four balls in a row.\u00a0 She took a bead on the eight ball where it sat three or four inches from a corner.\u00a0 She tapped and sent the cue ball down just a little too fast.\u00a0 It hit the eight ball into the pocket then rolled right in after it.<\/p>\n

\u201cMotherfucker!\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat up straight and signaled to Jackie.<\/p>\n

Dallas put his hand on her back.\u00a0 \u201cWe don\u2019t pay out on scratches.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harvey chalked his cue.\u00a0 He glanced at Cristo, then back at Dallas.\u00a0 \u201cYou lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019mon, man, that\u2019s bullshit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, not double for that game.\u00a0 Just toss us a twenty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s fair, man.\u00a0 We bet, you lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dallas and the big girl frowned at each other.<\/p>\n

Jackie poked up behind Cristo with a tray of shots of Jaeger.\u00a0 \u201cHere you go, guys, on the house.\u00a0 Don\u2019t sweat too hard, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

The group all took a glass and shot the sticky stuff.\u00a0 Cristo looked like his eyes were going to pop, but he held on.\u00a0 His opponents beat their chests together and whooped.\u00a0 \u201cI love New Orleans!\u201d Dallas cackled.\u00a0 \u201cOkay, twenty.\u00a0 Now double or nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn fifty or on seventy?\u201d Cap asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m asking, son, if you want to go double or nothing on the original fifty or the whole enchilada here.\u201d<\/p>\n

The girl threw shadow boxer punches.\u00a0 \u201cWe can do it.\u00a0 Come on.\u00a0 That scratch was a fluke.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dallas looked to the barber.\u00a0 Cristo burped and covered his mouth.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s up to you.\u00a0 We\u2019re just trying to have a little fun.\u00a0 It\u2019s not like we do this for a living.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dallas laughed and shook hands.\u00a0 \u201cOkay, seventy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cristo and Harvey went to work.\u00a0 Harvey popped in two solids off the break, then made a convincing miss on the six.\u00a0 Dallas\u2019 broad was seeing double now, but still hitting clean shots with one eye closed.\u00a0 She missed a bank shot by inches and gave over, cursing.\u00a0 Cristo took a chance and let a clean-up shot at the corner come up short, but still left it there to block the pocket.\u00a0 Dallas was nodding along with the music this whole time, letting it get ahold of him and rile up his confidence.\u00a0 He was a rock star now.\u00a0 He took an easy straight shot then tried to jump the cue ball over a row of solids.\u00a0 He miscalculated and split them apart.\u00a0 The girl hit him with a hard jab right in the bicep, almost tottering him into the booth with me.\u00a0 They all hit one and none after that.\u00a0 The game got tense as the table cleared.\u00a0 Cristo\u2019s turn came up.\u00a0 Both teams had one ball left on the felt an the eight ball sat square in the middle.\u00a0 Cristo looked over at Harvey.\u00a0 The captain nodded.\u00a0 Cristo looked at me, nervous.\u00a0 I shrugged, not seeing what angle he was after.\u00a0 The barber leaned in tight, drawing the stick across the bumper like a violin bow on a droning note.\u00a0 He stabbed, his tip flew up clear, and the cue ball flew across the table, sideswiped the last solid into a corner pocket then hit the rail hard.\u00a0 It deflected straight back and clipped the eight, sending it straight into the side.<\/p>\n

The girl looked like she was going to shit.\u00a0 Dallas spat, grabbed their lonely fifteen ball and wound up like a pitcher aiming towards the window.\u00a0 I shot up in the booth, standing on the bench and spread my arms out.<\/p>\n

I was going to say, \u201cWhoa, buddy,\u201d but the ball had already hit me square in the sternum and my eyes popped, staring at Dallas holding his follow-through pose, slack-jawed and broadcasting Oh shit<\/em>.<\/p>\n

The girl threw her stick across the table and fled into the back room, disappearing into the mass of nodding blues aficionados.\u00a0 Cristo slid into the booth opposite me and held out his hand.\u00a0 I passed out for a few seconds, my lungs struggling to refill.\u00a0 When I got hold of consciousness again Harvey had Dallas pinned on the ground with his knee pressing into his balls, yelling, \u201cThe money, the money, the money!\u201d<\/p>\n

The crowd around us gawked for a few moments but kept on churning.\u00a0 Two girls popped up on the abandoned pool table, twisting their boots into the felt, pumping their plastic cups with sloshing pink liquid, shagging along to the chorus of \u201cParadise City.\u201d\u00a0 My chest felt like reverberating cast iron.\u00a0 Overstimulated and malnourished I passed out for good.<\/p>\n

The world felt close and hot and suffocating when I woke up.\u00a0 My chest still felt cratered, but I was relaxed, stretched out, elevated.\u00a0 Soft jazz wandered into my ear canals.\u00a0 I lifted my hand and felt calm pressure easing it back down.<\/p>\n

Cristo spoke to me, \u201cRelax, Cass.\u201d<\/p>\n

He unwound a hot shave towel from around my jaw and mouth, then unpeeled the one covering my forehead and eyes.\u00a0 His shop was low-lit and warm.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want a beer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe made out like Turkish bandits.\u201d\u00a0 Harvey\u2019s voice, smoke-rimmed and soft somewhere behind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cTechnically,\u201d Cristo said, \u201cI should have called that shot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFuck,\u201d Cap said.\u00a0 \u201cWhat is this, Victorian England?\u00a0 You made the shot, and that\u2019s what counts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat time is it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost four,\u201d Cristo said.\u00a0 \u201cAlmost time to kick you guys out.\u00a0 I gotta open up in five hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFour, you\u2019re shitting me,\u201d I said.\u00a0 \u201cI wasn\u2019t out that long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot the first time, kid,\u201d Harvey said.\u00a0 \u201cBut we\u2019ve been around the block and back.\u00a0 Took that cowboy\u2019s money and turned it into a real cache at Dos Jefes.\u00a0 You don\u2019t remember?\u00a0 You were talking to that nurse at the bar for, like, two hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou started repeating yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harvey stood and walked over, bowed his head in reverse over mine. \u201cNever repeat yourself, kid.\u00a0 It gives them a chance to catch you in the lies.\u00a0 Anyway, here\u2019s your share, minus expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n

He let a flat stack of tens fall onto my chest.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t count it, but it was enough to get through the week, at least.<\/p>\n

Cristo took off down the street in his rumbling Beetle convertible.\u00a0 I walked Harvey back to Brothers Three.\u00a0 He put his hand on the door instead of heading around back to the stairs up to his room.<\/p>\n

\u201cCap.\u00a0 Come on, take it easy,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

The door swung open and Johnny Cash\u2019s voice swept out alongside dust and cooped-up air seeking to escape.\u00a0 Joe was huddled up against the bar, toothpick in his mouth, waiting for the early morning to send him the stragglers he depended on.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a nightcap,\u201d Cap said.\u00a0 \u201cJoe and I got things to talk about.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tried to stare him down, wondering if that roll in his pocket could survive til the next evening, whether it would ever make its way into the hand of the man he owed.\u00a0 There were a lot of ways to spend seven hundred dollars in this town before dawn.<\/p>\n

Brave Captain Harvey nodded along as if I\u2019d spoken aloud.\u00a0 He patted me on the shoulder.\u00a0 \u201cGuess what, kid?\u00a0 I\u2019m going to have occasion to explain this night to someone, somewhere.\u00a0 And you\u2019ll get an honorable mention.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.\u00a0 A clean wave of new energy dislodged itself somewhere inside of me and reanimated my limbs and re-corrected my sight.\u00a0 I stepped through the door after him.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe I need a night cap, too,\u201d I said, \u201cbut you\u2019re buying.\u201d<\/p>\n

We sat down and Joe reached down for two ten ounce glasses.\u00a0 \u201cCash only right now,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cMachine is down.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harvey lit a cigarette and smiled, \u201cNot a problem tonight, boss.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I sat in my living room with my feet up, the dog by my side whimpering.\u00a0 Harvey was in the shower, slapping lather up and down his arms and gargling.\u00a0 The water shut off and he stomped in the tub …<\/p>\n

Brave Captain Harvey-It’s All About the Money, Part 2<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[57,4],"tags":[143,68,64],"class_list":["post-490","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cass","category-stories","tag-captain-harvey","tag-cassander","tag-new-orleans"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/490","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=490"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/490\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":820,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/490\/revisions\/820"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=490"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=490"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=490"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}