ch.nativetongue-第70章

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　Bud　Schwartz　sat　down　in　front　of　the　television。　The　anchorman　had　tossed　the　sniper　story　to　a　sportscaster；　who　was　somberly　recounting　the　stellar　career　of　Jake　Harp。　The　golfer's　photograph；　taken　in　happier　times；　popped　up　on　a　wide　green　mat　behind　the　sports　desk。
　Danny　Pogue　said；　〃Who　the　hell's　that？〃
　〃Not　Kingsbury；〃　grunted　Bud　Schwartz。　The　mishap　confirmed　his　worst　doubts　about　Lou's　qualifications　as　a　hit　man。　It　was　unbelievable。　The　asshole　had　managed　to　shoot　the　wrong　guy。
　〃Know　what？〃　said　Danny　Pogue。　〃There's　a　Jake　Harp　Cadillac　in　Boca　Raton　where　I　swiped　a　bunch　of　tape　decks　once。　Is　that　the　same　guy？　This　golfer？〃
　Bud　Schwartz　said；　〃I　got　no　earthly　idea。〃　What　was　all　this　crap　the　TV　guy　was　yakking　about…career　earnings；　number　of　Top　Ten　finishes；　average　strokes　per　round；　percentage　of　greens　hit　in　regulation。　To　Bud　Schwartz；　golf　was　as　foreign　as　polo。　Except　you　didn't　see　so　many　fat　guys　playing　polo。
　〃The　main　thing　is；　did　they　catch　the　shooter？〃
　〃Nuh…huh。〃　Danny　Pogue　had　his　nose　to　the　tube。　They　said　he　got　away　in　a　boat。　No　arrests；　no　motives　is　what　they　said。〃
　Bud　Schwartz　was　trying　to　picture　Lou　from　Queens　at　the　helm　of　a　speedboat；　racing　for　the　ocean's　horizon。
　〃He's　gonna　be　pissed；〃　Danny　Pogue　said。
　〃Yeah；　well；　I　don't　guess　his　boss　up　North　is　gonna　be　too　damn　thrilled；　either。　Whackin〃　the　wrong　man。〃
　〃He　ain't　dead　yet。　Serious　but　stable　is　what　they　said。〃
　Bud　Schwartz　said　it　didn't　really　matter。　〃Point　is；　it's　still　a　fuckup。　A　major　major　fuckup。〃
　The　Mafia　had　gunned　down　a　life　member　of　the　Professional　Golfers　Association。
　
　Pedro　Luz　finally　emerged　from　the　storage　room；　where　he　had　been　measuring　his　penis。　He　rolled　the　wheelchair　out　to　Kingsbury　Lane　for　the　morning　rehearsal　of　the　Summerfest　Jubilee；　a　greatly　embellished　version　of　the　nightly　musical　pageant。　Pedro　Luz　needed　something　to　lift　his　spirits。　His　leg　had　begun　to　throb　in　an　excruciating　way；　no　bination　of　steroids　and　analgesics　put　a　dent　in　the　pain。　To　add　psychic　misery　to　the　physical；　Pedro　Luz　had　now　documented　the　fact　that　his　sexual　wand　was　indeed　shrinking　as　a　result　of　prolonged　steroid　abuse。　At　first；　Pedro　Luz　had　assured　himself　that　it　was　only　an　optical　illusion；　the　more　swollen　his　face　and　limbs　became；　the　smaller　everything　else　appeared　to　be。　But　weeks　of　meticulous　calibrations　had　produced　conclusive　evidence：　His　wee…wee　had　withered　from　10。4　centimeters　to　7。9　centimeters　in　its　flaccid　state。　Worse；　it　seemed　to　Pedro　Luz　（although　there　was　no　painless　way　to　measure）　that　his　testicles　had　also　bee　smaller…not　yet　as　tiny　as　BBs；　as　Churrito　had　predicted；　but　more　like　gumballs。
　These　matters　weighed　heavily　on　his　mind　as　Pedro　Luz　sat　in　the　broiling　sun　and　watched　the　floats　rumble　by。　He　was　hoping　that　the　sight　of　Annette　Fury's　regal　bosom　would　buoy　his　mood；　and　was　disappointed　to　see　that　she　had　been　replaced　as　Princess　Golden　Sun。　The　new　actress　looked　familiar；　but　Pedro　Luz　couldn't　place　the　face。　She　was　a　very　pretty　girl；　but　the　black　wig　needed　some　work；　as　did　the　costume…buckskin　culottes　and　a　fringed　halter　top。　Her　singing　was　quite　lovely；　much　better　than　Annette〃s；　but　Pedro　Luz　would've　preferred　larger　breasts。　The　lioness　that　shared　the　Seminole　float　was　in　no　condition　to　rehearse；　panting　miserably　in　the　humidity；　the　animal　sprawled　half…conscious　on　one　side；　thus　thwarting　the　cat…straddling　exit　that　culminated　the　princess's　dramatic　performance。
　As　the　parade　disbanded；　Pedro　Luz　eased　the　wheelchair　off　the　curb　and　approached　the　Seminole　float。　The　pretty　young　singer　was　not　to　be　seen；　there　was　only　the　driver　of　the　float　and　Dr。　Kukor；　the　park　veterinarian；　who　had　climbed　aboard　to　revive　the　heatstruck　lioness。　Dr。　Kukor　was　plainly　flabbergasted　by　the　sight　of　Pedro　Luz。
　〃I　lost　my　foot　in　an　accident；〃　the　security　chief　explained。
　Dr。　Kukor　hadn't　noticed　the　missing　foot。　It　was　the　condition　of　Pedro　Luz's　face；　so　grossly　inflated；　that　had　generated　the　horror。　The　man　looked　like　a　blow…fish：　puffed　cheeks；　bulging　lips；　teeny　eyes　wedged　deep　under　a　pimpled；　protuberant　brow。
　To　Pedro　Luz；　Dr。　Kukor　directed　the　most　inane　inquiry　of　a　long　and　distinguished　career：　〃Are　you　all　right？〃
　〃Just　fine。　Where's　the　young　lady？〃
　Dr。　Kukor　pointed；　and　Pedro　Luz　spun　the　wheelchair　to　see：　Princess　Golden　Sun　stood　behind　him。　She　was　zipping　a　black　Miami　Heat　warm…up　jacket　over　the　halter。
　Pedro　Luz　introduced　himself　and　said；　〃I've　seen　you　before；　right？〃
　〃It's　possible；〃　said　Carrie　Lanier；　who　recognized　him　instantly　as　the　goon　who　shot　up　her　double…wide；　the　creep　she'd　run　over　with　the　car。　She　noticed　the　bandaged　trunk　of　his　leg；　and　felt　a　pang　of　guilt。　It　passed　quickly。
　〃You　sing　pretty　nice；〃　Pedro　Luz　said；　〃but　you　could　use　a　couple　three　inches　up　top。　If　you　get　my　meaning。〃
　〃Thanks　for　the　advice。〃
　〃I　know　a　doctor　who　specializes　in　that　sort　of　thing。　Maybe　I　could　get　you　a　discount。〃
　〃Actually；〃　said　Carrie；　patting　her　chest；　〃I　kind　of　like　the　little　fellas　just　the　way　they　are。〃
　〃Suit　yourself。〃　Pedro　Luz　scratched　brutally　at　a　raw　patch　on　his　scalp。　〃I'm　trying　to　figure　where　I　saw　you　before。　Take　off　the　wig　for　a　second；　okay？〃
　Carrie　Lanier　pressed　her　hands　to　her　eyes　and　began　to　cry…plaintive；　racking　sobs　that　attracted　the　concern　of　tourists　and　the　other　pageant　performers。
　Pedro　Luz　said；　〃Hey；　what's　the　matter？〃
　〃It's　not　a　wig！〃　Carrie　cried。　〃It's　my　real　hair。〃　She　turned　and　scampered　down　a　stairwell　into　The　Catabs。
　〃Geez；　I'm　sorry；〃　said　Pedro　Luz；　to　no　one。　Flustered；　he　rolled　full　tilt　toward　the　security　office。　Speeding　downhill　past　the　Wet　Willy；　he　chafed　his　knuckles　trying　to　brake　the　wheelchair。　When　he　reached　the　chilled　privacy　of　the　storage　room；　he　slammed　the　door　and　drove　the　bolt。　In　the　blackness　Pedro　Luz　probed　for　the　string　that　turned　on　the　ceiling's　bare　bulb；　he　found　it　and　jerked　hard。
　The　white　light　revealed　a　shocking　scene。　Someone　had　entered　Pedro's　sanctuary　and　destroyed　the　delicate　web　of　sustenance。　Sewing　shears　had　snipped　the　intravenous　tubes　into　worthless　inch…long　segments；　which　littered　the　floor　like　plastic　rice。　The　same　person　had　sliced　open　every　one　of　Pedro's　unused　IV　bags；　the　wheelchair　rested；　literally；　in　a　pond　of　liquid　dextrose。
　But　by　far　the　worst　thing　to　greet　Pedro　Luz　was　the　desolate　sight　of　brown　pill　bottles；　perhaps　a　half…dozen；　open　and　empty　on　the　floor。　Whoever　he　was；　the　sonofabitch　had　flushed　Pedro's　anabolic　steroids　down　the　John。　The　ceramic　pestle　with　which　he　had　so　lovingly　powdered　his　Winstrols　lay　shattered　beneath　the　toilet　tank。
　And；　on　the　wall；　a　message　in　coral　lipstick。　Pedro　Luz　groaned　and　backed　the　wheelchair　so　he　could　read　it　easier。　A　wild　rage　heaved　through　his　chest　and　he　began　to　snatch　items　from　the　storage　shelves　and　hurl　them　against　the　cinder　block：　nightsticks；　gas　masks；　flashlights；　handcuffs；　cans　of　Mace；　pistol　grips；　boxes　of　bullets。
　Only　when　there　was　nothing　left　to　throw　did　Pedro　Luz　stop　to　read　the　words　on　the　wall　again。　Written　in　a　loopy　flamboyant　script；　the　message　said：
　
　Good　morning；　Dipshit！
　Just　wanted　you　to　know　I'm　not　dead。
　Have　a　nice　day；　and　don't　forget　your　Wheaties！
　
　It　was　signed；　〃Yours　truly；　J。　Winder。〃
　Pedro　Luz　emitted　a　feral　cry　and　aimed　himself　toward　the　executive　gym；　where　he　spent　the　next　two　hours　alone　on　the　bench　press；　purging　the　demons　and　praying　for　his　testicles　to　grow　back。
　
　THIRTY
　Somehow　Charles　Chelsea　summoned　the　creative　energy　necessary　for　fabrication：
　
　Golf　legend　Jake　Harp　was　accidentally　shot　Thursday　during　groundbreaking　ceremonies　for　the　new　Falcon　Trace　Golf　and　Country　Club　Resort　on　North　Key　Largo。
　The　incident　occurred　as　Mr。　Harp　was　preparing　to　hit　a　ball　off　what　will　be　the　first　tee　of　the　6；970…yard　championship　golf　course；　which　Mr。　Harp　designed　himself。　The　golfer　apparently　was　struck　by　a　stray　bullet　from　an　unidentified　boater；　who　may　have