chiaasen.stormyweather-第25章
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attorney and moved upstate to Macon。 Lester's father blamed himself； a sentiment echoed in harsher terms by the other Klansmen。 Morale in the local chapter further deteriorated when a newspaper revealed that the young doctor who had revived the dying Kleagle was a black man； possibly from Savannah。
The Parsonses decided to leave the Klan while it was still their choice to do so。 Lester's father joined a segregated bowling league； while his mother mailed out flyers for J。 B。 Stoner； another famous racist who periodically ran for office。 Politics bored young Lester； who turned his pubescent energies to crime。 He dropped out of school on his fourteenth birthday； although his preoccupied parents didn't find out for nearly two years。 By then the boy's ine from stealing backhoes and bulldozers was twice his father's ine from repairing them。 The Parsonses strove not to know what their son was up to； even when it landed him in trouble。 Lester's mother worried that the boy had a mean streak； his father said all boys do。 Can't get by otherwise in this godforsaken world。
Lester Maddox Parsons was seventeen when he got his nickname。 He was hot…wiring a farmer's tractor in a peanut field when a game warden snuck up behind him。 Lester dove from the cab and took a punch at the man； who calmly reconfigured Lester's face with the butt of an Ithaca shotgun。 He sat in the county jail for three days before a doctor came to examine his jaw； which was approximately thirty…six degrees out of alignment。
That it healed at all was a minor miracle； Snapper was spitting out snips of piano wire until he was twenty…two years old。
The Georgia prison system taught the young man an important lesson： It was best to keep one's opinions about race mingling to oneself。 So when Avila introduced Snapper to the roofing crew； Snapper noted （but did not plain） that two of the four workers were as black as the tar they'd be mixing。 The third roofer was a muscular young Marielito with the number 〃69〃 tattooed elegantly inside his lower lip。 The fourth roofer was a white crackhead from Santa Rosa County who spoke a version of the English language that was utterly inprehensible to Snapper and the others。 Although each of the roofers owned long felony rap sheets； Snapper couldn't say that his feelings toward the crew approached anything close to kinship。
Avila sat the men down for a pep talk。
〃Thanks to the hurricane； there's a hundred fifty thousand houses in Dade County need new roofs；〃 he began。 〃Only a damn fool couldn't make money off these poor bastards。〃
The plan was to line up the maximum number of buyers and perform the minimum amount of actual roofing。 By virtue of owning a suit and tie； Snapper was assigned the task of bullshitting potential customers through the fine print of the 〃contract；〃 then collecting deposits。
〃People are fucking desperate for new roofs；〃 Avila said buoyantly。 〃They're getting rained on。 Fried from the sun。 Eat up by bugs。 Faster they get a roof on their heads； the more they'll pay。〃 He raised his palms to the sky。 〃Hey； do they really care about price？ It's insurance money； for Christ's sake。〃
One of the roofers inquired how much manual labor would be involved。 Avila said they should repair a small section on every house。 〃To put the people's minds at ease；〃 he explained。
〃What's a 'small' section？〃 the roofer demanded。
Another said； 〃It's fucking August out here； boss。 I know guys that dropped dead of heatstroke。〃
Avila reassured the men they could get by with doing a square； maybe less； on each roof。 〃Then you can split。 Time they figure out you won't be back； it's too late。〃
The crackhead mumbled something about contracting licenses。 Avila turned to Snapper and said； 〃They ask about our license； you know what to do。〃
〃Run？〃
〃Exactamente！〃
Snapper wasn't pleased with his door…to…door role in the operation； particularly the odds of encountering large pet dogs。 He said to Avila： 〃Sounds like too much talking to strangers。 I hate that shit。 Why don't you do the contracts？〃
〃Because I inspected some of these goddamn houses when I was with building…and…zoning。〃
〃The owners don't know that。〃
Chango had warned Avila to be careful。 Chango was Avila's personal santeria deity。 Avila had thanked him with a turtle and two rabbits。
〃I'm keeping low；〃 Avila told Snapper。 〃B…and…Z's got snitches all over the damn county。 Somebody recognizes my face； we're screwed。〃
Snapper wasn't sure if Avila was paranoid or purely lazy。 〃So where will you be exactly；〃 he said； 〃when we're out on a job？ Maybe some air…conditioned office。〃 He heard the roofers snicker； a hopeful sign of solidarity。
But Avila was quick to assert his authority。 〃Job？ This isn't no 'job；' it's an act。 You boys aren't here 'cause you can mop tar。 You're here 'cause you look like you can。〃
〃What about me？〃 Snapper goaded。 〃How e I was hired？〃
〃Because we couldn't get Robert Redford。〃 Avila stood up to signal the end of the meeting。 〃Snap； why the hell you think you got hired？ So people would be sure to pay。 prende？ One look at that fucked…up face； and they know you mean business。〃
Maybe an ordinary criminal would've taken it as a pliment。 Snapper did not。
All the mattresses in Tony Torres's house were soaked from the storm； so Edie Marsh had sex with the insurance man on the BarcaLounger。 It was a noisy and precarious endeavor。 Fred Dove was nervous； so Edie had to assist him each step of the way。 Afterwards he said he must've slipped a disk。 Edie was tempted to remark that he hadn't moved enough muscles to slip anything； instead she told him he was a stallion in technique and proportion。 It was a strategy that seldom failed。 Fred Dove contentedly fell asleep with his head on her shoulder and his legs snagged in the footrest； but not before promising to submit a boldly fraudulent damage claim for the Torres house and split the check with Edie Marsh。
An hour before dawn； Edie heard a terrible motion in the backyard。 She couldn't rise to investigate because she was pinned beneath the insurance man in the BarcaLounger。 Judging from the tumult outside； Donald and Maria had gone rabid。 The confrontation ended in a flurry of plaintive yips and a hair…raising roar。 Edie Marsh didn't move until the sun came up。 Then she stealthily roused Fred Dove； who panicked because he'd forgotten to phone his wife back in Omaha。 Edie told him to hush up and put on his pants。
She led him to the backyard。 The only signs of the two miniature dachshunds were limp leashes and empty collars。 The Torres lawn was torn to shreds。 Several large tracks were visible in the damp gray soil； deep raking tracks； with claws。
Fred Dove's left Hush Puppy fit easily one of the imprints。 〃Good Lord；〃 he said； 〃and I wear a ten and a half。〃
Edie Marsh asked what kind of wild animal would make such a track。 Fred Dove said it looked big enough to be a lion or a bear。 〃But I'm not a hunter；〃 he added。
She said； 〃Can I e stay with you？〃
〃AttheRamada？〃
〃What…they don't allow women？〃
〃Edie； we shouldn't be seen together。 Not if we're going through with this。〃
〃You expect me to stay out here alone？〃
〃Look； I'm sorry about your dogs…〃
〃They weren't my goddamn dogs。〃
〃Please； Edie。〃
With his round eyeglasses； Fred Dove reminded her of a serious young English teacher she'd known in high school。 The man had worn Bass loafers with no socks and was obsessed with T。 S。 Eliot。 Edie Marsh had screwed the guy twice in the faculty lounge； but he'd still given her a C on her final exam because （he claimed） she'd missed the whole point of 〃J。 Alfred Prufrock。〃 The experience had left Edie Marsh with a deep…seated mistrust of studious…looking men。
She said； 〃What do you mean； if we go through with this？ We made a deal。〃
〃Yes；〃 Fred Dove said。 〃Yes； we did。〃
As he followed her into the house； she asked； 〃How soon can you get this done？〃
〃Well； I could file the claim this week…〃
〃Hundred percent loss？〃
〃That's right；〃 replied the insurance man。
