chiaasen.stormyweather-第53部分

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　The　man's　bed　looked　like　a　grenade　had　been　set　off　under　the　sheets。　Max　Lamb　thought：　He's　either　having　fantastic　sex　or　horrible　nightmares。　The　disarray　made　it　impossible　to　determine　if　two　persons　had　shared　the　mattress；　the　cast　of　A　Chorus　Line　could　have　slept　there；　for　all　Max　could　tell。
　
　Uncertainty　nibbled　at　his　ego。　He　got　an　idea…　distasteful　but　effective。　He　bent　over　Augustine's　bed　and　put　his　nose　to　the　linens　whiffing　for　a　trace　of　Bonnie's　perfume。　Uncharacteristically；　Max　Lamb　couldn't　recall　the　brand　name　of　the　fragrance；　but　he'd　never　forget　its　orchard　scent。
　
　He　sniffed　in　imaginary　grids；　starting　at　the　headboard　and　working　his　way　down　the　mattress。　An　explosive　sneeze　announced　his　findings：　Paco　Rabanne　for　men。　Max　recognized　the　scent　because　he　wore　it　himself　（in　spite　of　a　near…incapacitating　allergy）　every　Monday；　for　the　sixth…floor　meetings　at　Rodale。
　
　Paco　and　laundry　bleach；　that's　all　Max　detected　on　Augustine's　sheets。
　
　One　more　place　to　check：　the　wastebasket　in　the　bathroom。　Grimly　Max　pawed　through　the　litter：　no　used　condoms；　thank　God。
　
　Later；　stretched　out　on　Augustine's　sofa；　Max　realized　that　Bonnie's　faithfulness；　or　possible　lack　thereof；　wasn't　the　most　pressing　issue。　It　was　her　sanity。　Somehow　they'd　snowed　her；　those　madmen。　Like　some　weird　cult…one　eats　road　pizza；　the　other　fo'ndles　human　skulls。
　
　How　could　such　a　bright　girl　let　herself　be　brainwashed　by　such　freaks！
　
　Max　Lamb　decided　on　a　bold　move。　He　posed　a　script　for　himself　and　rehearsed　it　for　an　hour　before　picking　up　the　phone。　Then　he　dialed　the　apartment　in　New　York　and　left　the　message　for　his　wandering　wife。　The　ultimatum。
　
　Afterwards　Max　called　back　to　hear　how　it　sounded　on　the　answering　machine。　His　voice　was　so　steely　that　he　scarcely　recognized　himself。
　
　Excellent；　he　thought。　Just　what　Bonnie　needs　to　hear。
　
　If　only　she　calls。
　
　Avila's　wife　snidely　announced　that　his　expensive　san…teria　goats　were　in　the　custody　of　Animal　Control。　One　had　been　captured　grazing　along　the　shoulder　of　the　Don　Shula　Expressway；　while　the　other　had　turned　up　at　a　car　wash；　butting　its　horns　through　the　grillwork　of　a　leased　Jaguar　sedan。　Avila's　wife　said　it　made　the　Channel　7　news。
　
　〃So？　What　do　you　want　me　to　do？〃　Avila　demanded。
　
　〃Oh；　forget　about！　Three　hundred　dollars；　chew　jess　forget　about！〃
　
　〃You　want　me　to　steal　the　goats　back？　OK；　tonight　I'll　drive　to　the　animal　shelter　and　break　down　the　fence　and　kidnap　the　damn　things。　That　make　you　happy？　While　I'm　there　I'll　grab　you　some　kittens　and　puppies；　too。　Maybe　a　big　fat　guinea　pig　for　your　mother；　no？〃
　
　〃I　hate　chew！　I　hate　chew！〃
　
　Avila　shook　his　head。　〃Here　we　go　again。〃
　
　〃Chew　and　Chango；　your　faggot　orichal〃
　
　〃Louder；〃　Avila　said。　〃Maybe　you　can　wake　some　of　your　dead　relatives　in　Havana。〃
　
　The　phone　rang。　He　picked　it　up　and　turned　his　back　on　his　wife；　who　hurled　a　can　of　black　beans　and　stormed　from　the　kitchen　in　a　gust　of　English　expletives。
　
　It　was　Jasmine　on　the　line。　She　asked；　〃What's　all　that　noise？〃
　
　〃Marriage；〃　Avila　said。
　
　〃Well；　love；　I'm　sitting　here　with　Bridget；　and　guess　where　we're　going　tonight。〃
　
　〃To　blow　somebody？〃
　
　〃God；　look　who's　in　a　piss…poor　mood。〃
　
　〃Sorry；〃　Avila　said。　〃It's　been　a　shitty　day。〃
　
　〃We're　driving　to　the　Keys。〃
　
　〃Yeah？〃
　
　〃To　meet　your　friend；〃　said　Jasmine。
　
　〃No　shit？　Where？〃
　
　〃Some　motel　on　the　ocean。　Can　you　believe　he's　payin'　the　both　of　us　to　baby…sit　some　old…timer。〃
　
　〃Who？〃　Avila　couldn't　imagine　what　new　scam　Snapper　was　running。
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃Just　some　yutz；　I　don't　know。　We're　supposed　to　keep　him　busy　for　a　couple　days；　take　some　dirty　pictures。　Five　hundred　each　is　what　your　friend's　giving　us。〃
　
　〃Geez；　that　sucks。〃
　
　〃Business　is　slow；　sweetie。　The　hurricane　turned　all　our　regulars　into　decent；　faithful；　God…fearing　family　men。〃
　
　Avila　heard　Bridget's　giggle　in　the　background。　Jasmine　said；　〃So　five　hundred　looks　pretty　sweet　right　about　now。〃
　
　〃You　can　double　it　if　you　give　up　the　name　of　the　motel。〃
　
　〃Why　do　you　think　we　called？　Aren't　you　proud　of　me？〃
　
　Avila　said；　〃You're　the　best。〃
　
　〃But　listen；　honey；　we　need　to　know…〃
　
　〃Let　me　talk　to　Bridget。〃
　
　〃Nope；　we　want　to　know　what　you　got　in　mind。　Because　both　of　us　are　on　probation；　as　usual…〃
　
　〃Don't　worry；〃　Avila　said。
　
　〃…and　we　don't　need　no　more　trouble；　legally　speaking。〃
　
　〃Relax；　I　said。〃
　
　〃You　ain't　gonna　kill　this　guy？〃
　
　〃Which　guy…Snapper？　Hell；　no；　he　owes　me　money　is　all。　What　time　are　you　meeting　him？〃
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃Around　eight。〃
　
　Avila　checked　his　wristwatch。　〃You　girls　ain't　gonna　make　Key　West　by　eight　o'clock　unless　you　got　a　rocket　car。〃
　
　〃Not　Key　West；　honey。　Islamorada。〃
　
　It　was　seventy…five　miles　closer；　but　Avila　still　wasn't　certain　he　could　get　there　in　time。　First　he　had　to　make　an　offering；　such　a　momentous　trip　was　unthinkable　without　an　offering。
　
　He　said；　〃Jasmine；　what's　the　name　of　the　motel？〃
　
　〃Not　till　you　promise　me　and　Bridget　won't　get　in　trouble。〃
　
　〃Jesus；　I　already　told　you。〃
　
　She　said；　〃Here's　the　deal；　so　listen。　You　gotta　wait　till　we　get　our　money　from　your　friend　Snapper。　Then　you　gotta　promise　not　to　shoot　anybody　in　front　of　us；　OK？〃
　
　Avila　said；　〃On　my　wife's　future　grave。〃
　
　〃Also；　you　gotta　promise　to　pay　us　what　you　said…　five　hundred　each。〃
　
　〃Yep。〃
　
　〃Plus　two　stone　crab　dinners。　That's　Bridget's　idea。〃
　
　〃No　problem；〃　Avila　said。　Informing　the　prostitutes　that　stone　crabs　were　out　of　season　would　only　have　muddled　the　negotiation。
　
　〃The　name；〃　Avila　pressed。
　
　〃Paradise　Palms。　I've　never　been　there　before。　Bridget；　neither；　but　Snapper　promised　it's　really　nice。〃
　
　〃pared　to　prison；　I'm　sure　it's　the　fucking　Ritz。　What's　the　room　number？〃
　
　Jasmine　asked　Bridget。　Bridget　didn't　know。
　
　〃Doesn't　matter；〃　Avila　said。　〃I'll　track　you　down。〃
　
　〃Remember　what　you　promised！〃
　
　〃Yeah；　I'll　try。　It's　already　been　at　least　seven　seconds。〃
　
　〃Well；　sweetheart；　we　better　cruise。〃
　
　Avila　was　about　to　set　the　receiver　on　the　cradle　when　he　remembered　something。　〃Hey！　Jasmine；　wait！〃
　
　〃Yeah；　what。〃
　
　〃Did　you　tell　her　about　me？〃
　
　〃Bridget？　I　didn't　tell　her　nuthin'。〃　Jasmine　sounded　puzzled。　〃What's　to　tell？〃
　
　〃Nuthin'。〃
　
　〃Oh　。。。　you　mean　about…〃
　
　〃Don't　say　it！〃
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃Honey；　I　would　never。　That　was　between　you　and　me。　Honest　to　God。〃
　
　〃'Cause　the　other　night　you　said　I　was　better。〃　How　valiantly　Avila　had　labored　to　stifle　his　vocalizing　during　the　lovemaking！　What　few　sounds　he'd　made　were　not；　by　any　stretch　of　the　imagination；　squeaks。
　
　〃The　other　night　you　were　just　great；〃　said　Jasmine。　〃Fantastic；　even。　Better　than　I　remembered。〃　Avila　said；　〃Same　goes　for　you；　too。〃　Later；　driving　to　Sweetwater　for　the　chickens；　he　couldn't　stop　thinking　about　the　call　girl's　sultry　pliment。　Whether　she　meant　a　word　of　it　or　not　wasn't　worth　speculating　on；　the　concept　of　sincerity　was　so　foreign　to　Avila's　own　life　that　he　felt　unqualified　to　pass　judgment　on　Jasmine。　He　was　just　glad　she'd　quit　calling　herself　Morganna…what　a　clunker　of　a　name　to　remember　in　the　heat　of　passion！
　
　The　bined　effect　of　marijuana　and　methaqualone　on　Dr　Charles　Gabler's　judgment　was　not　salutary。　Never　was　it　more　evident　than　late　on　the　night　of　September　1；　at　a　roadside　motel　off　Interstate　10　near　Bonifay；　Florida。　Overtaken　with　desire；　the　professor　slipped　out　of　the　twin　bed　he　shared　with　the　sleeping　Neria　Torres；　and　slipped　into　the　twin　bed　occupied　by　the　wakeful　young　graduate　student；　Celeste。　As　he　ardently　attached　himself　to　one　of　Celeste's　creamy　breasts；　Dr　Gabler　was　becalmed　by　a　warm；　harmonious　confluence　of　physical　and　metaphysical　currents。　His　timing　couldn't　have　been　worse。
　
　Neria　Torres　had　been　reevaluating　the　parameters　of　her　relationship　with　the　professor　ever　since　they'd　pulled　off　a　highway　outside　Jackson；　Mississippi；　so　he　could　take　a　leak。　Sitting　in　the　driver's　seat；　watching　Dr　Gabler　try　to　tinkle　in　some　azaleas；　Neria　had　thought：　I　don't　find　this　cute　anymore。
　
　As　the　professor　had　tottered　back　toward　the　van；　the　beams　of　the　headlights　dramatically　illuminated　the　ruby…colored　crystals　dangling　from　the　lanyard　around　his　neck。
　
　〃Oh　wow；〃　young　Celeste　had　exclaimed；　suffused　with　mystic　awe　and　Humboldt　County's　finest。
　
　That　was　the　moment　when　Neria　Torres　had　looked　into　her　future　and　decided　that　the　professor　should　share　no　large　part　of　it；　specifically；　the　insurance　settlement　from　the　hurricane。　Neria　envisioned　a　scenario　in　which　Dr　Gabler　might　endeavor　to　sweet…talk　her　out　of　a　portion　of　the　money…he　would　probably　call　it　a　friendly　loan…and　then　flee　in　the　dead　of　night　with　his　nubile　protegee。　After　all；　that's　pretty　much　what　he'd　done　to　his　previous　lover；　a　vendor　of　fine　macrames；　when　Neria　Torres　entered　his　life。
　
　Even　if　the　professor　harbored　no　selfish　des