chiaasen.stormyweather-第46章

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　Always。'〃　He　gave　a　scornful　laugh　and　hung　his　bony　arm　out　the　window；　preparing　to　toss　the　ring　from　the　truck。
　
　〃Don't　do　that；〃　Edie　said；　backing　off　the　accelerator。
　
　〃The　fuck　not？　If　I　can't　hock　the　goddamn　thing；　I'm　gone　dump　it。　Case　we　get　pulled　over。〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　said；　〃Just　don't；　OK？〃
　
　〃Oops。　Too　late。〃　He　cocked　his　arm　and　threw　the　ring　as　far　as　he　could。　It　plopped　into　a　roadside　canal；　breaking　the　surface　with　concentric　circles。
　
　Edie　saw　everything　from　the　corner　of　her　eye。　〃You　lousy　prick。〃　Her　voice　was　as　hard　as　marble。　The　woman　in　the　back　seat　felt　the　Jeep　gain　speed。
　
　Defiantly　Snapper　waved　the　heavy　black　pistol。　〃Maybe　you　never　heard　of　somethin'　called　'possession　of　stolen　property'…it's　a　motherfuckin'　felony；　case　you　didn't　know。　Here's　another　beauty：　Vi…o…lay…shun　o'　pro…bay…shun！　Translated：　My　skinny　white　ass　goes　straight　to　Starke；　I　get　caught。　Do　not　pass　Go；　do　not　collect　any　hurricane　money。　So　fuck　the　cop's　jewelry；　unnerstand？〃
　
　Edie　Marsh　said　nothing。　She　willed　herself　to　concentrate　on　the　slick　two…lane　blacktop；　which　intermittently　was　strewn　with　pine　boughs；　palmetto　fronds　and　loose　sheets　of　plywood。　A　regular　obstacle　course。　Edie　checked　the　speedometer：　ninety…two　miles　per　hour。　Not　bad　for　a　city　girl。
　
　Snapper；　ordering　her　to　slow　down；　couldn't　keep　the　raw　nervousness　out　of　his　voice。　Edie　acted　as　if　she　didn't　hear　a　word。
　
　The　one　who　called　himself　Skink　didn't　stir　from　his　nap；　trance；　a；　whatever　it　was。　Meanwhile　the　young　newlywed　（Edie　noticed　in　the　rearview）　carefully　removed　her　own　wedding　band　from　her　finger。
　
　The　tollbooth　was　empty　and　the　gate　was　up。　Edie　didn't　bother　to　slow　down。　Bonnie　Lamb　held　her　breath。
　
　When　they　blew　through　the　narrow　lane；　Snapper　exclaimed；　〃Jesus！〃
　
　As　the　Jeep　climbed　the　steep　bridge；　Skink　raised　his　head。　〃This　is　the　place。〃
　
　〃Where　you　spent　the　storm？〃　Bonnie　asked。
　
　He　nodded。　〃Glorious。〃
　
　Beneath　them；　broken　sunlight　painted　Biscayne　Bay　in　shifting　stripes　of　copper　and　slate。　Ahead；　a　bloom　of　lavender　clouds　dumped　chutes　of　rain　on　the　green　mangrove　shorelines　of　North　Key　Largo。　As　the　truck　crested　the　bridge；　Skink　pointed　out　a　pod　of　bottle…nosed　dolphins　rolling　along　the　edge　of　a　choppy　boat　channel。　From　such　a　height　the　arched　flanks　of　the　creatures　resembled　glinting　slivers　of　jet　ceramic；　covered　and　then　uncovered　by　foamy　waves。
　
　〃Just　look；〃　said　Bonnie　Lamb。　The　governor　was　right…it　was　purely　spectacular　up　here。
　
　Even　Edie　Marsh　was　impressed。　She　curbed　the　Jeep　on　the　downhill　slope　and　turned　off　the　key。　She　strained　to　keep　the　rollicking　dolphins　in　view。
　
　Snapper　fumed　impatiently。　〃What　is　this　shit？〃　He　jabbed　Edie　in　the　arm　with　the　。357。　〃Hey　you；　drive。〃
　
　〃Take　it　easy。〃
　
　〃I　said　fucking　drive。〃
　
　〃And　I　said　take　it　fucking　easy。〃
　
　Edie　was　livid。　The　last　time　Snapper　had　seen　that　hateful　glare　was　moments　before　she'd　bludgeoned　his　leg　with　the　crowbar　iron。　He　cocked　the　revolver。　〃Don't　be　a　cunt。〃
　
　〃Excuse　me？〃　One　eyebrow　arched。　〃What'd　you　say？〃
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　feared　that　Edie　was　going　to　lose　her　mind　and　go　for　Snapper's　throat；　at　which　point　she　certainly　would　be　shot　dead。　Snapper　jammed　the　gun　flush　against　her　right　breast。
　
　The　governor　was　unaware。　He　had　everted　the　upper　half　of　his　torso　out　the　window　to　watch　the　dolphins　make　their　way　north；　and　also　to　enjoy　a　fresh　sprinkle　that　had　begun　to　fall。　Bonnie　tried　to　grab　his　hand；　but　it　was　too　large。　She　settled　for　squeezing　two　of　his　fingers。　Gradually　Skink　drew　himself　back　into　the　Jeep　and　appraised　the　tense　drama　unfolding　in　the　front　seat。
　
　〃You　heard　me；〃　Snapper　was　saying。
　
　〃So　that　was　you；〃　Edie　said；　〃calling　me　a　cunt。〃
　
　Violently　Snapper　twisted　the　gun　barrel；　bunching　the　fabric　of　Edie's　blouse　and　wringing　the　soft　flesh　beneath　it。　God；　Bonnie　thought；　that's　got　to　hurt。
　
　Edie　Marsh　didn't　let　it　show。
　
　〃Drive！〃　Snapper　told　her　again。
　
　〃When　I'm　through　watching　Flipper。〃
　
　〃Fuck　Flipper。〃　Snapper　raised　the　。357　and　fired　once　through　the　top　of　the　Jeep。
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　cried　out　and　covered　her　ears。　Edie　Marsh　clutched　the　steering　wheel　to　steady　herself。　The　pain　in　her　right　breast　made　her　wonder　briefly　if　she　was　shot。　She　wasn't。
　
　Snapper　cheerlessly　eyed　the　hole　in　the　roof　of　the　truck；　the　acrid　whiff　of　cordite　made　him　sneeze。　〃God　bless　me；〃　he　said；　with　a　dark　chuckle。
　
　A　door　opened。　Skink　got　out　of　the　Jeep　to　stretch。　〃Don't　you　love　this　place！〃　He　unfolded　his　long　arms　toward　the　clouds。　〃Don't　it　bring　out　the　beast　in　your　soul！〃
　
　Glorious；　Bonnie　agreed　silently。　That's　the　word　for　it。
　
　〃Get　back　in　the　car；〃　Snapper　barked。
　
　Skink　obliged；　shaking　the　raindrops　from　his　hair　like　a　sheep　dog。　Without　a　word；　Edie　Marsh　started　the　engine　and　drove　on。
　
　
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY…FOUR
　
　
　〃What　do　you　mean；　no　roosters？〃
　
　The　owner　of　the　botdnica　apologized。　It　had　been　a　busy　week　for　fowl。　He　offered　Avila　a　sacrificial　billy　goat　instead。
　
　Avila　said；　〃No　way；　Jose。〃　The　sutures　from　his　goring　itched　constantly。　〃I　never　heard　anyone　running　outta　roosters。　What　else　you　got？〃
　
　〃Turtles。〃
　
　〃I　don't　got　time　to　do　turtles；〃　Avila　said。　Removing　the　shells　was　a　messy　chore。　〃You　got　any　pigeons？〃
　
　〃Sorry；　meng。〃
　
　〃Lambs？〃
　
　〃Tomorrow　morning。〃
　
　〃How　about　cats？〃
　
　〃No；　meng；　hiss　no　legal。〃
　
　〃Yeah；　like　you　give　a　shit。〃　Avila　checked　his　wristwatch；　he　had　to　hurry；　do　this　thing　then　get　on　the　road　to　the　Keys。　〃OK；　senor；　what　do　you　got？〃
　
　The　shop　owner　led　him　to　a　small　storage　room　and　pointed　at　a　wooden　crate。　Inside；　Avila　could　make　out　a　furry　brown　animal　the　size　of　a　beagle。　It　had　shoe…button　eyes；　an　anteater　nose；　and　a　long　slender　tail　circled　with　black　rings。
　
　Avila　said；　〃What；　some　kinda　raccoon？〃
　
　〃Coatimundi。　From　South　America。〃
　
　The　animal　chittered　inquisitively　and　poked　its　velvety　nostrils　through　the　slats　of　the　crate。　It　was　one　of　the　oddest　creatures　Avila　had　ever　seen。
　
　〃Big　medicine；〃　promised　the　shop　owner。
　
　〃I　need　something　for　Chango。〃
　
　〃Oh；　Chango　would　love　heem。〃　The　shop　owner　had　astutely　pegged　Avila　for　a　rank　amateur　who　knew　next　to　nothing　about　santeria。　The　shop　owner　said；　〃Si；　es　muy　bueno　por　Chango。〃
　
　Avila　said；　〃Will　it　bite？〃
　
　〃No；　my　freng。　See？〃　The　botanica　man　tickled　the　coati's　moist　nose。　〃Like　a　puppy　dog。〃
　
　〃OK；　how　much？〃
　
　〃Seventy…five。〃
　
　〃Here's　sixty；　chico。　Help　me　carry　it　to　the　car。〃
　
　As　he　drove　up　to　the　house；　Avila　saw　the　Buick　backing　out　of　the　driveway；　his　wife　and　her　mother；　undoubtedly　off　to　Indian　bingo。　He　waved。　They　waved。
　
　Avila　gloated。　Perfect　timing。　For　once　I'll　have　the　place　to　myself。　Quickly　he　dragged　the　wooden　crate　into　the　garage　and　lowered　the　electric　door。　The　coati　huffed　in　objection。　From　a　cane…wicker　chest　Avila　hastily　removed　the　implements　of　sacrifice…tarnished　pennies；　coconut　husks；　the　bleached　ribs　of　a　cat；　polished　turtle　shells；　and　an　old　pewter　goblet。　From　a　galvanized　lockbox　Avila　took　his　newest；　and　potentially　most　powerful；　artifact…the　gnawed　chip　of　bone　belonging　to　the　evil　man　who　had　tried　to　crucify　him。　Reverently；　and　with　high　hopes；　Avila　placed　the　bone　in　the　pewter　goblet；　soon　to　be　filled　with　animal　blood。
　
　For　sustenance　Chango　was　known　to　favor　dry　wine　and　candies；　the　best　Avila　could　do；　on　short　notice；　was　a　pitcher　of　sangria　and　a　roll　of　stale　wintergreen　Life　Savers。　He　lighted　three　tall　candles　and　arranged　them　triangularly　on　the　cement　floor　of　the　garage。　Inside　the　triangle；　he　began　to　set　up　the　altar。　The　coatimundi　had　gone　silent；　Avila　felt　its　stare　from　between　the　slats。　Could　it　know？　He　whisked　the　thought　from　his　mind。
　
　The　final　item　to　be　removed　from　the　wicker　chest　was　the　most　important：　a　ten…inch　hunting　knife；　with　a　handle　carved　from　genuine　elk　antler。　The　knife　was　an　antique；　made　in　Wyoming。　Avila　had　received　it　as　a　bribe　when　he　worked　as　a　county　building　inspector…　a　Christmas　offering　from　an　unlicensed　roofer　hoping　that　Avila　might　overlook　a　seriously　defective　scissor　truss。　Somehow　Avila　had　found　it　in　his　heart　to　do　just　that。
　
　Vigorously　he　sharpened　the　hunting　knife　on　a　whetstone。　The　coati　began　to　pace　and　snort。　Avila　discreetly　concealed　the　gleaming　blade　from　the　doomed　animal。　Then　he　stepped　inside　the　triangle　of　candles　and　improvised　a　short　prayer　to　Chango；　who　（Avila　trusted）　would　understand　that　he　was　pressed　for　time。
　
　Afterwards　he　took　a　pry　bar　and　started　peeling　the　wooden　slats　off　the　crate。　The　sacramental　coati　became　highly　agitated。　Avila　attempted　to　soothe　it　with　soft　words；　but　the　beast　wasn't　fooled。　It　shot　from　the　crate　and　tore　crazed　circles　throughout　the　garage；　scattering　cat　bones　and　tipping　two　of　the　santeria　candles。　Avila　tried　to　subdue　the　coati　by　stunning　it　with　the　pry　bar；　but　it　was　too　swift　and　agile。　Like　a　monkey；　it　vertically　scampered　up　a　wall　of　metal　shelves　and　bounded　onto　the　ceiling　track　of　the　electric　door…opener。　There　it　perched；　using　its　remarkable　tail　for　balance；　squealing　and　baring　sharp　yellow　teeth。　Meanwhile　one　of　the　santeria　candles　rolled　beneath　Avila's　lawn　mower；　igniting　the　gas　tank。　Cursing　bitterly；　Avila　ran　to　the　kitchen　for　the　fire　extinguisher。　When　he　returned　to　the　garage；　he　was　confronted　with　fresh　disaster。
　
　The　electric　door　was　open。　In　the　driveway　was　his　wife's　Buick；　idling。　Why　she　had　e　back；　Avila　didn't　know。　Perhaps　she'd　decided　to　pilfer　the　buried　Tupperware　for　extra　bingo　money。　It　truly　didn't　matter。
　
　Apparently　her　mother　had　emerged　from　the　car　first。　The　scene　that　greeted　Avila　was　so　stupefying　that　he　temporarily　forgot　about　the　flaming　lawn　mower。　For　reasons　beyond　human　prehension；　the　overwrought　coatimundi　had　jumped　from　its　roost　in　the　garage；　dashed　outdoors　and　scaled　Avila's　mother…in…law。　Now　the　creature　was　nesting　in　the　woman's　coiffure；　a　brittle　edifice　of　chromium　orange。　Avila　had　always　believed　that　his　wife's　mother　wore　wigs；　but　here　was　persuasive　evidence　that　her　fantastic　mop　was　genuine。　She　shrieked　and　spun　about　the　front　yard；　flailing　spastically　at　the　demon　on　her　scalp。　The　jabbering　coati　dug　in　with　all　four　claws。　No　hairpiece；　Avila　decided；　could　withstand　such　a　test。
　
　His　wife　bilingually　shouted　that　he　should　do　something；　for　God's　sake；　don't　just　stand　there！　The　pry　bar　was　out　of　the　question；　one　misplaced　blow　and　that　would　be　the　end　of　his　mother…in…law。　So　Avila　tried　the　fire　extinguisher。　He　unloaded　at　point…blank　range；　soaping　the　stubborn　animal　with　sodium　bicarbonate。
　
　The　coati　snarled　and　snapped　but；　incredibly；　refused　to　vacate　the　old　woman's　hair。　In　the　turmoil　it　was　inevitable　that　some　of　the　cold　mist　from　the　fire　extinguisher　would　hit　Avila's　mother…in…law；　who　mashed　her　knu