ch.nativetongue-第7章

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er。　Afterwards　the　warm　rain　washed　the　salt　off　our　bodies。。。。〃
　〃For　Christ's　sake。〃
　〃Joe？〃
　〃Yeah；　it's　me。　Why　don't　you　ever　listen？〃
　〃Because　they　don't　pay　me　to　listen；〃　Nina　said。　〃They　pay　me　to　talk。〃
　〃I　wish　you'd　get　a　normal　job。〃
　〃Joe；　don't　start。〃
　Nina　was　a　voice　for　one　of　those　live　dial…a…fantasy　telephone　services。　She　worked　nights；　which　put　a　strain　on　her　personal　relationships。　Also；　every　time　Joe　Winder　called；　it　cost　him　four　bucks。　At　least　the　number　was　easy　to　remember：　976…E。
　Nina　said；　〃What　do　you　think　about　the　lightning…and…thunder　business？　I　added　it　to　the　script　myself。〃
　〃What　was　it　before…something　about　whales；　right？〃
　〃Porpoises；　Joe。　A　school　of　friendly　porpoises　leaped　and　frolicked　in　the　water　while　we　made　love。　Our　animal　cries　only　seemed　to　arouse　them。〃
　Nina　had　a　wonderful　voice；　Winder　had　to　admit。　〃I　like　the　new　stuff　better；〃　he　agreed。　〃The　storm　idea　is　good…you　wrote　that　yourself？〃
　〃Don't　sound　so　surprised。〃　She　asked　him　how　his　day　had　gone；　and　he　told　her　about　the　stolen　voles。
　Nina　said；　〃See？　And　you　thought　you　were　going　to　be　bored。〃
　〃I　am　bored。　Most　of　the　time。〃
　〃Joe；　it's　never　going　to　be　like　the　old　days。〃
　He　wasn't　in　the　mood　to　hear　it。　He　said；　〃How's　it　going　with　you？〃
　〃Slow；〃　Nina　said。　〃Beverly　went　home　early。　It's　just　me　and　Miriam。〃
　〃Any　creeps　call　in？〃　Of　course　creeps　had　called…who　else　would　bother？
　〃The　usual　jack…off　artists；〃　Nina　reported。　〃They're　harmless；　Joe；　don't　worry。　I　just　give　a　straight　read；　no　moans　or　groans；　and　still　they　get　off　in　about　thirty　seconds。　I　had　one　guy　fall　asleep　afterwards。　Snoring　like　a　baby。〃
　Sometimes　she　talked　about　her　job　as　if　it　were　a　social　service；　like　UNICEF　or　Meals　on　Wheels。
　〃When　will　you　be　home？〃　Winder　asked。
　The　usual；　Nina　said；　meaning　four　in　the　morning。　〃Want　me　to　wake　you　up？〃
　〃Sure。〃　She　had　loads　of　energy；　this　girl。　Winder　needed　somebody　with　energy；　to　help　him　use　up　his　own。　One　of　the　drawbacks　of　his　high…paying　bullshit　PR　job　was　that　it　took　absolutely　nothing　out　of　him；　except　his　pride。
　Hurriedly　Nina　said；　〃Joe；　I　got　another　call　waiting。〃
　〃Make　it　short　and　sweet。〃
　〃I'll　deal　with　you　later；　sailor　boy。〃
　And　then　she　hung　up。
　
　Winder　couldn't　sleep；　so　he　put　a　Warren　Zevon　tape　in　the　stereo　and　made　himself　a　runny　cheese　omelet。　He　ate　in　the　living　room；　near　the　speakers；　and　sat　on　a　box　because　there　were　no　chairs　in　the　apartment。　The　box　was　filled　with　old　newspaper　clippings；　his　own；　as　well　as　plaques　and　certificates　from　various　journalism　awards　that　he　had　received　over　the　years。　The　only　important　journalism　award　that　wasn't　in　the　box　was　the　single　one　that　impressed　anybody…the　Pulitzer　Prize；　which　Joe　Winder　had　never　won。
　When　he　was　first　interviewed　for　the　publicity…writing　job　at　the　Amazing　Kingdom　of　Thrills；　Joe　Winder　had　been　asked　if　he'd　ever　gotten　a　Pulitzer。　When　he　answered　no；　Charles　Chelsea　had　threatened　to　put　him　on　the　polygraph　machine。
　〃I　never　won；〃　Winder　insisted。　〃You　can　look　it　up。〃　And　Charles　Chelsea　did。　A　Pulitzer　on　the　wall　would　have　disqualified　Joe　Winder　from　the　PR　job　just　as　surely　as　flunking　a　urinalysis　for　drugs；
　〃We're　not　in　the　market　for　aggressive；　hard…bitten　newshounds；〃　Chelsea　had　warned　him。　〃We're　looking　for　writers　with　a　pleasing；　easygoing　style。　We're　looking　for　a　certain　attitude。〃
　〃I'm　flexible；〃　Joe　Winder　had　said。　〃Especially　my　attitude。〃
　Chelsea　had　grilled　him　about　the　other　journalism　awards；　then　about　the　length　of　his　hair；　then　about　the　thin　pink　scar　along　his　jawline。
　Eyeing　Winder's　face　at　close　range；　the　publicity　man　had　said；　〃You　look　like　a　bar　fighter。　Did　you　get　that　scar　in　a　fight？〃
　〃Car　accident；〃　Joe　Winder　had　lied；　figuring　what　the　hell；　Chelsea　must've　known　the　truth。　One　phone　call　to　the　newspaper；　and　any　number　of　people　would've　been　happy　to　drop　the　dime。
　But　Chelsea　never　said　another　word　about　the　scar；　never　gave　a　hint　that　he'd　even　picked　up　the　rumor。　It　was　Joe　Winder's　journalism　achievements　that　seemed　to　disturb　the　publicity　man；　although　these　concerns　were　ultimately　outweighed　by　the　discovery　that　Winder　had　been　born　and　raised　in　Florida。　The　Publicity　Department　at　the　Amazing　Kingdom　was　desperate　for　native　talent；　somebody　who　understood　the　mentality　of　tourists　and　crackers　alike。
　The　Disney　stint　hadn't　hurt　Joe　Winder's　chances；　either；　he　had　worked　among　the　enemy；　and　learned　many　of　their　professional　secrets。　So　Charles　Chelsea　had　set　aside　his　doubts　and　hired　him。
　That　was　two　weeks　ago。　It　was　still　too　early　for　Winder　to　pare　the　new　job　with　the　one　at　Disney　World。　Certainly　Disney　was　slicker　and　more　efficient　than　the　Amazing　Kingdom；　but　it　was　also　more　regimented　and　impersonal。　The　Disney　bureaucracy；　and　its　reach；　was　awesome。　In　retrospect　Joe　Winder　wasn't　sure　how　he　had　lasted　as　long　as　he　did；　six　months；　before　he　was　caught　having　sex　on　Mr。　Toad's　Wild　Ride　and　fired　for　not　wearing　his　ID　card。　Winder　felt　especially　bad　that　the　young　woman　with　whom　he'd　been　dallying；　a　promising　understudy　to　Cinderella；　had　also　been　dismissed　over　the　incident；　she　for　leaving　Main　Street　during　Mickey's　Birthday　Parade。
　During　the　job　interview　at　the　Amazing　Kingdom；　Charles　Chelsea　had　told　him：　〃You　work　for　us；　you'd　better　keep　it　in　your　pants；　understand？〃
　〃I've　got　a　girlfriend　now；〃　Joe　Winder　had　said。
　〃Don't　think　you　won't　be　tempted　around　here。〃
　Winder　hadn't　been　tempted　once；　until　today。　Now　he　was　thinking　about　Carrie　Lanier；　the　fearless　beauty　inside　a　seven…foot　raccoon　suit。
　This　is　what　happens　when　you　turn　thirty…seven；　Winder　thought；　the　libido　goes　blind　with　fever。　What　else　could　explain　his　attraction　to　Nina？　Or　her　attraction　to　him？
　Being　a　newspaper　reporter　had　left　Joe　Winder　no　time　for　such　reckless　attachments。　Being　a　flack　left　him　all　the　time　in　the　world。　Now　that　he　was　forbidden　to　write　about　trouble；　he　seemed　determined　to　experience　it。
　He　finished　his　omelet　and　opened　a　beer　and　slumped　down　on　the　floor；　between　the　stereo　speakers。　Something　had　been　nagging　at　him　all　afternoon；　ever　since　the　insufferable　Chelsea　had　drafted　him　to　help　with　the　robbery　crisis。　In　the　push　toward　his　deadline；　it　was　clear　to　Joe　Winder　that　none　of　his　writing　skills　had　eroded…his　speed　at　the　keyboard；　his　facile　vocabulary；　his　smooth　sense　of　pacing　and　transition。　Yet　something　from　the　old　days　was　missing。
　Curiosity。　The　most　essential　and　feral　of　reporters'　instincts；　the　urge　to　pursue。　It　was　dead。　Or　dying。
　Two　strangers　had　invaded　a　family　theme　park　in　broad　daylight　and　kidnapped　a　couple　of　obscure　rodents　from　an　animal　exhibit。　Winder　had　thoroughly　and　petently　reported　the　incident；　but　had　made　no　effort　to　explore　the　fascinating　possibilities。　Having　established　the　what；　he　had　simply　ignored　the　why。
　Even　by　South　Florida　standards　the　crime　was　perverse；　and　the　old　Joe　Winder　would　have　reveled　energetically　in　its　mysteries。　The　new　Joe　Winder　had　merely　typed　up　his　thousand　words；　and　gone　home。
　Just　as　he　was　supposed　to　do。
　So　this　is　how　it　feels；　he　thought。　This　is　how　it　feels　to　sell　out。　On　the　stereo；　Warren　Zevon　was　singing　about　going　to　the　Louvre　museum　and　throwing　himself　against　the　wall。　To　Joe　Winder　it　sounded　like　a　pretty　good　idea。
　He　closed　his　eyes　tightly　and　thought：　Don't　tell　me　I'm　getting　used　to　this　goddamn　zombie　job。　Then　he　thought：　Don't　tell　me　I'm　getting　drunk　on　one　lousy　beer。
　He　crawled　across　the　carpet　to　the　phone；　and　tried　to　call　Nina　at　the　service。　The　woman　named　Miriam　answered　instead；　and　launched　into　a　plicated　fantasy　involving　trampolines　and　silver　ankle　bracelets。　Miriam　was　struggling　so　valiantly　in　broken　English　（〃Ooooh；　bebee；　chew　make　me　b　so　many　time！〃）　that　Joe　Winder　didn't　have　the　heart　to　interrupt。
　What　the　hell；　it　was　only　four　bucks。　He　could　certainly　afford　it。
　
　FOUR
　On　the　morning　of　July　17；　Danny　Pogue　awoke　in　a　cold　sweat；　his　T…shirt　soaked　f